#i need to see them make love passionately

[woso-dreamzzz]

If You Were My Little Girl II

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: Things are looking up

Alexia watches from the stands.

They're mostly empty, like almost all Barcelona B matches.

Women's football has only really started picking up steam recently but only at the top flight. The lower level leagues are still having a bit of a popularity issue.

But Alexia, for once, finds that she doesn't mind.

Because it means she can sit practically alone in the stands as she watches the home match.

A notepad sits on her lap, a pen tapping against the pages thoughtfully as she watches.

Barcelona B are good and Alexia has never expected anything different. She's seen the system at work many times as La Masia churns out players like Aitana and Pina and Jana, and more recently Vicky and Martina.

There's a reason so many clubs wants La Masia products.

They're all good players but even now, Alexia can tell a great player when she sees one.

You rise up among the crowd in the box and slam the ball into the goal, the net rippling with the force of the shot.

The best part, Alexia thinks, is that you didn't even need a moment to control the ball, hitting it in on the volley and grinning as your teammates practically dogpile you.

A hattrick in ten minutes is impressive in any league and Alexia makes another note in her notebook, humming softly to herself.

She rises out of her seat at the end of the match, disappearing into the building and out the doors.

It takes another half an hour for you to appear again, hair damp and an old crew neck sweater that Alexia's pretty sure is Alba's being tugged over your head.

You slip into the passenger seat, throwing your bag into the backseat and Alexia pulls your head down to press a kiss against the side of it.

You smile shyly at her as she offers up the fries she'd bought for a job well done.

"You did good, kid," She says," Very impressive."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. But I think we're going to work on evading slide tackles next," Alexia says as she drives off," We're trying to keep those ankles of yours intact, alright? I'm going to need them this season."

You roll your eyes and Alexia clicks her tongue.

"Don't roll your eyes at me," She says," I've got a good feeling about that meeting later in the week. A great feeling, actually. You should have one too."

"I'm managing expectations."

Alexia looks at you fondly. "Well, we'll see which one of us is right in a few days."

She lets you choose the music in the car, like she always does when you've scored a goal and you pull up to the apartment a lot quicker than you want to seeing as you're in the middle of singing along to your favourite song but, still, you drag yourself out of the car and up the stairs.

"How was the match?" Olga asks as she greets Alexia with a kiss on the lips.

"She did very well," Alexia brags," A hattrick within the first ten minutes and another goal in injury time."

"Exciting," Olga says indulgently as Alexia grins, already giving her running commentary of everything that happened during the match.

You escape though, hurrying to raid the cupboards before Alexia finally comes to her senses and tries to stop you 'spoiling' your dinner.

You don't know if there's any way to thank Alexia for what she's done for you.

Just three months ago, you were convinced that you were going to quit. You had no passion for the game, no hope of what your future was going to be but now all of that had changed.

You had direction. You had a manager. You had new boots and a place to live that wasn't a group home and support and love and everything seemed to be coming together for you.

A toe pokes you in the leg.

"Move."

"Alexia says that if you're trying to nap on her sofa again then I don't have to move," You tell Alba, who huffs and pokes you with her toe again," She also says that you have your own apartment and should stop mooching of us."

"But Olga's a better cook than me," Alba complains and you roll your eyes.

"Aren't you an adult? Even I can cook."

"Yeah but it's not like you could mooch off your sist-"

Alba falls silent quickly and you pretend to not notice what she was going to say for both hers and your own sakes.

The topic of your sister is kind of off limits when you're in the room. It's not completely banned because Alexia's still Jenni's national teammate but she's not really spoken about if you're in the room.

Alba's face flashes with terror for a moment so you pretend you don't notice her slip up ever though it sends a bolt of lightning into your stomach, a deep pit forming there.

It works for the most part, everyone in the house pretending Jenni isn't who she is to you, pretending that she's just Alexia's teammate and not her friend and ex, pretending that Alexia fostering you isn't her walking on a tight rope because Jenni doesn't know.

All Jenni knows is that you didn't quit when she told you to.

Jenni doesn't know that you live with Alexia. Jenni doesn't know anything. You doubt she even thinks about you when she's got a life far away in Mexico.

She lives there, far away from you and your life here in Barcelona.

She lives there and her presence is hardly ever mentioned around you.

Life is good at Alexia and Olga's house. Life is even good at training, though you could do without the smug little smirk Alexia has on her face when she picks you up.

"You already knew!" You accuse her, waving a finger in her face.

"Knew?" She asks, lips curl up in what can only be described as pure smugness," Knew what?"

"Right, who told you? Go on. Who was it?"

Alexia grins. "You do realise I am the captain? Any time they're looking to bring someone in, they ask me my opinion."

You roll your eyes. "Yeah and I'm sure you gave it."

"You're a good player. A great player," Alexia says," All I did was tell them what they already know."

You look down at your lap, fidgeting with your fingers. You want to be mad at her, to yell at her for keeping this from you. Maybe even yell at her for promising to the staff something you're not but you know she hasn't done that.

If she thought you weren't ready, she would have told them that.

But Alexia didn't. She didn't tell them to let you have a bit more time with the B team. She didn't tell them that you don't quite have what it takes.

"Thanks."

Alexia smiles at you as she drives home, a comfortable silence enveloping you both until your hand is on the door handle.

You stop.

"When I open this door, there's going to be a party, isn't there?"

"I may have told Olga...who told Mami...who told Alba...who told the rest of the family..."

"Is that a yes?"

"Possibly..."

"And there's no getting out of this?"

Alexia ruffles your hair, a soft kiss being pressed to the side of your head. "They're here to celebrate you."

You suck in a breath, just ready to turn the handle when the sound of the lift doors opening chimes down the corridor.

Both you and Alexia turn your heads towards.

It's just a fleeting second.

Just a moment.

But your good mood plummets as the door opens.

Alexia's hand tightens on your shoulder, pushing you slightly behind her and putting herself between you and the elevator.

Between you and Jenni.

[eiightysixbaby]

winter dreams

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

eddie really wants to give you a baby for christmas

cw: 18+ ONLY - SMUT. reader and eddie are actively trying to get pregnant, unprotected piv, creampie

The fire crackles in the fireplace beside you, orange embers licking at the logs below them. The carpet is plush beneath your bare back, skin pleasantly warm from the flames.

There’s a Christmas tree in the corner of the living room, its pretty colored lights partnering with the fire to cast the prettiest glow across the space. A Bing Crosby holiday album plays from the record player, volume turned low, making him sound far away; dreamlike.

Your eyes wander momentarily to the window, and you can see the snow falling down in slow, fluffy flakes. It’s like you’re inside of a snow globe, and someone just shook it upside down. You smile warmly, letting this moment wrap you up in its joy.

Eddie rocks slowly into you, hands braced on the floor beside your head. Every move he makes is entirely intentional, filling you completely full of him with each thrust. Despite his loving pace, it still knocks the breath out of you, feeling him all over you; everywhere.

You let out a satisfied hum, to which he grunts softly in response. His wide, beautiful brown eyes look down at you, twinkling with the reflection of the lights. Long lashes flutter before his eyelids close, face leaning into yours to press a kiss to your mouth, open in a sigh of his name.

"Fuck, baby," he groans. "Feel like fucking heaven." His voice is deep and husky, and it seems to wrap around you, enveloping you in the affection that pours from him.

You don't really respond, aside from another moan. He's turning you to mush, slowing down your brain, rendering you incapable of forming a sentence. Your fingers dig into his shoulder blades, nails digging in to his soft skin.

"Are you feeling good, sweetheart?" he asks, watching the way your eyes roll back as he delivers another deep thrust.

Typically, that question would come out a little cocky; smug. He'd be pounding you senseless, knowing damn well he's making you feel so good and also that you're in no state to respond to him. But right now, there's nothing but pure adoration behind his ask. This is love-making in its purest form, slow and steady and passionate, hands caressing tenderly and lips moving languid across searing skin.

"Yes," you gasp. "So good, baby," your brain manages to string the words together, leaving you breathily.

A pleased noise erupts from deep in his throat, and his mouth dips down to kiss the side of your face, trailing purposefully down to your neck.

"God, I love you," he murmurs into the crook of your neck, strands of his unruly curls tickling your neck.

It drags another high-pitched sound from you, and that's all the response he needs.

"Gonna get you pregnant, holy shit," he pants, statement enunciated by the slick, wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out of you.

And that was always the plan, but hearing him say it now, in the heat of the moment, has your walls clenching around him, your brain fuzzy with desire.

"That what you want, baby? Hm? Want me to give you a baby for Christmas?"

You whimper, back arching til your tits are pressed against his chest, eyes screwing shut.

“Need you to use your words, honey,” he coaxes, letting his mouth dip to your cleavage, pressing a kiss featherlight to the skin.

“Yes, Eddie,” you burn. “That’s what I want.”

It’s something you’d both been talking about for a while. A baby. You’d been less and less cautious during sex lately, rolling with the mindset of, ‘if it happens, it happens’. But this, tonight— this feels more intentional, more promising.

His tongue swirls around one of your nipples, hips unwavering in their steady rocking.

“Good, baby. ‘M gonna give it to you,” he rasps, bringing his mouth back up, bottom lip dragging hot up the column of your throat until he catches your own mouth.

His tongue slots between your lips, moving slow with yours, sending a shiver straight through you. The rough pad of his thumb carefully finds your clit, snagging on it, rubbing in soft circles. A moan catches in your throat, coming out strangled, head tipping back against the soft carpeting.

“Oh, fuck,” you whine, feeling that familiar swell of tension in the pit of your stomach.

“C’mon, baby. You gonna cum for me?”

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes,” you chant, letting him play your body like an instrument, getting such pretty sounds out of you; working you up to your crescendo.

The weight of him on top of you is grounding, comforting as he sends you tipping over your edge. A few more swirls of his finger around your bud timed perfectly with his deep thrusts has you unraveling entirely. You moan unashamedly, hands desperately pulling him secure against your chest as your body shakes.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he pants, his voice wrecked. “I’m gonna cum, gonna cum inside you—”

And just like that, you can feel his cock twitching and his hips stilling, your insides coated with his release. He curses and groans, the noises dizzying, music to your ears. Two chests heave in unison, rising and falling, rising and falling as you both catch your breath. He doesn't pull out, in fact you think he might even push himself deeper, like he's really trying to make his seed stick.

He kisses you like it's his last moment on earth, like he's trying to breathe life into you and steal the life from you all at once. Bodies still entwined, still connected.

When he pulls away, everything feels still. The record player croons, dreams of white Christmases floating through the air. The look in Eddie's eyes says everything, no need for words.

If this were a dream, you'd never want to wake up. You're pretty certain it's real, though.

[shawtuzi]

request: ‘Can you please write a Toji x (blk)fem reader smut but she like one of those earthy girls with all the waist chains/beads and he like obsessed with her style and all the jewelry she wears. boho/earthy girls don’t get enough love.’

i hear you anon and i see you so here you go <333

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ cw include: drug usage (weed), oral m receiving, unprotected sex, riding, slight pussyjob, toji likes her sm so a lot of praise, PUSSYDRUNK TOJI!!!, sex outdoors (no one can see them hehe), creampie, an ‘i like you’ confession bc i’ve been watching a lot of rom coms lately///not proofread sorry :(

‘it’s a lot of lust not a lot of love’

you hummed along to the song as you made out with toji, your tongue swirling against his. your bracelets jangled against your wrist as you tugged on his soft locs, a low groan rumbling in his chest as you did so. “slow down toji, s’no rush,” you mumbled against his lips, teeth biting down the tiniest bit on his bottom lip.

toji tried to distract himself by toying with your waist beads, but it just wasn’t working. between the two blunts you both shared, along with a couple sips of wine—courtesy of you, there was just no way you expected him to be in his right mind enough for him to go slow. “i don’t want to go slow though,” he groaned, grabbing a handful of your ass over your skirt.

you kissed your teeth, now pulling away from the pouting man. you pushed him down against the blanket you had crocheted yourself, your hands now resting on his pecs. “you’re so impatient you know that? need my pussy that bad hm?” you giggled cocking your head to the side. toji gulped, his eyes finding it hard to stay locked on yours. eye contact with you was always so intense.

“yes….yes i am impatient and yes i need your pussy that bad.”

you smiled at his words, now leaning down to give him a slow kiss. you kissed your way down his jaw, to his neck, and finally down his chest. “damn….you got this worked up over a little kissing?” you teased, cupping toji over his jeans, earning a deep groan from him. toji didn’t respond, instead he just gave you the finger, too fucked out already to even come up with a proper comeback.

toji hissed when he felt you finally undo the button to his jeans, his leaking dick now free from its confinements. “go slow m’feelin’ a little sensitive,” toji grumbled and all you did was laugh, taking his throbbing dick in your hands. you gave the tip a soft squeeze, licking your lips. “now you wanna go slow? that’s funny,” you snickered, bringing his dick to your mouth, suckling the tip softly.

you ran your tip along the underside of his dick, fighting the urge to laugh again when you felt toji buck his hips up. toji wanted so badly to just push your head down, but you had just gotten your hair done a few days prior and he’d hate to cause you any discomfort. it was your first time getting passion twists and he was absolutely enamored with the way you looked with them.

“deeper—please go deeper y/n,” toji finally lifted his head up, now making eye contact with you but he reallyyyyy wishes he hadn’t. the way you were looking at him with those low, red eyes; eyelashes fluttering shut each time you took more of him in your mouth had him wanting to bust right then and there. toji felt his face flush, cheeks burning hot at the way you looked at him like he was the most precious thing to ever grace this earth—which in his opinion he wasn’t, far from it honestly.

toji’s eyes rolled back when he felt his dick hit the back of your right throat. “mmph fuck yeah—that’s that shit,” he groaned, bringing his hand to rest on the crown of your head. he didn’t grip it or apply any pressure, he just sat there and let you do what do best—suck the soul outta him.

the wind began to pick up, giving toji’s flaming cheeks a nice breeze to cool off. you made him so…so…beside himself. i mean for god sakes you had him fucking in the middle of a field of flowers, blazed out of his mind—it’s safe to say the grip you had on him was the most annoying shit ever.

“keep sucking me like that baby, f-fuck, take it deeper. be a good girl and take it deeper f’me,” you listened without protest, taking the last few inches of him in your mouth. toji was beyond fucked out, praises flying past his lips left n right and it only egged you on to turn him into even bigger pile of mush than he already was.

you pulled off of his dick with lewd pop! now paying attention to his swollen balls. toji’s body jerked, his heavy hand gripping onto your shoulder. “w—hah! w-wait y/n,” toji hissed, his jaw clenching impossibly tight. you lifted your head up, puffing air through your cheeks.

“i’m sorry i—”

“just shush toji.”

you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand before crawling up toji’s body, your lower half hovering over his twitching dick. you pushed toji down gently by his shoulders, humming to yourself at just how damn good he looked beneath you.

“you’re fuckin’ unreal,” toji sounded damn near breathless as he said it, his chest puffing up with each deep breath. his hand reached up to tug down your olive green, cropped tube top; his rough hands immediately latching onto your breasts.

“you really mean that or you jus’ fucked up?” you knew he meant it with all his heart, you just wanted to hear him say it. you blindly reached for the end of your skirt, tugging the soft material up your thighs. just as you pressed your panty clad pussy against toji’s dick he whispered the three words ‘i mean it’ in your ear, his teeth nibbling at your lobe.

the words ‘i like you’ were sitting so heavy on his tongue but he just couldn’t find the courage to tell you how he felt.

toji—a grown ass thirty four year old man who’s literally served time in the slammer was scared to tell you, a twenty something year old woman who was the literal embodiment of a fawn how he felt about you. what a joke.

“what are you thinking about?” you spoke softly, running your thumb over the stubble on toji’s jaw. toji shook his head, bringing his rough hands to your petal soft love handles.

“s’nothin.”

“liar.”

“i said it’s nothing.”

your breath hitched, mouth dropping open slightly at the feeling of toji’s dick pressed against your bare pussy. he felt so hot and soft against you and toji could certainly say the same thing about you. with one harsh tug toji ripped your thong off, tossing the semi soaked material to the side. you rlly should’ve known better with that one—toji hates whenever things are in his way.

“you’re such a liar toji,” your laugh was breathless as you began to slowly grind your pussy against toji’s dick. he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, his brows furrowing in annoyance but mostly pleasure. he was already so close it was so fucking embarrassing. pre dripped from his throbbing tip and onto his clenching abs, creating an even bigger mess between the two of you.

toji bucked his up, puffing air through his cheeks to silently tell you he was more than ready for you. you gave him a small smile, your tooth gems glistening in the afternoon sun. “can i confess something toji?” you asked, lifting yourself up to balance your weight on your feet. you grabbed toji’s dick, swiping his tip between your folds before slowly inserting it.

you both gasped in unison, toji’s eyes fluttering shut at the warmth that enveloped his cock. “w-what do you need to confess you fu—hucking brat,” he growled, his fingernails digging in the soft flesh of your thighs. in one swift movement you sat all the down, toji’s balls now pressed snugly against your backside.

“i really, really like hanging out with you toji,” your voice was a little high pitched, rightfully so because you practically feel the trembling man below you in your stomach. you pressed your hands against toji’s chest, bouncing on his dick like your life depended on it.

you brushed a stray hair out of toji’s face, cradling his jaw in your palm that still smelled of the shea butter you applied before your outing. “you like hanging out with me too toji? you like me?” your tone was coming off a tad desperate but you could’ve cared less. toji’s adam’s apple bobbed, a pathetic whine bubbling in his throat.

“yes.”

“yes what?”

toji wrapped his arms around your waist, his feet planting into the ground before fucking up into you. “yes i fucking l-like you y/n, could you not—shit! fucking tell? jesus christ your pussy is so good,” toji couldn’t help the drool that slipped past his lips, it was impossible to keep his mouth shut at this point. your hands found themselves in toji’s hair, tugging roughly at the soft strands.

“i knew you did i just wanted to hear you say it. i like you too toji.”

i like you too toji.

toji halted his movements, his dick now in you to the hilt. you suddenly felt a warm sensation in your lower half and knew immediately that toji was in the process of cumming. you circled your hips as best as you could, milking him for all he was worth.

“hah f-fucking shit i can’t stop fucking cumminggg,” he groaned, burying his face in your sweet smelling neck; the scent of vanilla and caramel had him feeling more dizzy than he already was.

after giving toji a few minutes to catch his breath you sat up, his dick still sheathed inside of you. “look how messy,” you spread your lips, giving toji a mouthwatering view of your overly stuffed pussy. toji licked his lips, reaching over to down the rest of the wine that was in your abandoned glass.

“lemme clean you up.”

[kaelidascope]

On one hand, I'm relieved to see that it isn't just me suffering in the engagement department whereas I used to get flooded with comments and the like every time I dropped something. It isn't the only reason why I've moved from fanfic work to original work, but it is part of it. The last round of engagement on the latest MM chapter was abysmal, and while I know it's not a reflection of my quality in writing, I kept beating myself up over the possibility that I took too long to update it and people gave up on it/forgot/fell out of love with my work because I as a creator was not performing good enough. It drove me into a bit of a depression for a while.

On the other hand, this is making me rethink my stance on never telling my favorite authors how much they have inspired me to take off with my writing career. This is going to get a little lengthy but I want to talk about it so bear with me here.

Closed circles know how much of an insane, unhinged fan I am of certain writers, yet I have never actually said a word to them. I think I left one comment on maybe two fics that went unanswered (which is fine. They're not active in the fandoms I'm in anymore and I'm just some guy out of probably hundreds all saying the same thing. They're not gonna reply to me) but apart from that, you wouldn't catch me dead actually admitting how much the works mean to me. But why?

I guess I was far too proud and too terrified of being let down if I exposed myself like that. Despite the fact that these authors were literal catalysts for borderline impossible feats I have done within the last year, WELL RECEIVED FEATS at that, I swore I'd never tell anyone how inspiring they were for me. (Unless a casual friendship has been established. I have had the tremendous honor to able to talk to some of my inspirations one on one but under incredibly lucky circumstances)

I had a scenario in my head that these were the cool kids, and if you ever got picked on at all for admiring anything, you know damn well you never tell the cool kids about your admiration. I was afraid that they'd take one look at the work that was inspired by theirs and laugh at it in their enclosed circles. I wasn't going to risk having my confidence crushed and lose the motivation to continue working on my projects by being a fan.

I know not all authors do this. Every time someone comes to me and tells me I've inspired them to be a better writer, I literally frame it in a collection of screenshots I have saved on a hard drive. Every. Single. Time. And I know anyone else would tell me that if the person I admire would actually be cruel enough to mock an up and coming writer, then they're not worth admiring. Which I agree with! But try telling that to sensitive little Kaeli that safeguards their interests with the fiery defensiveness of a feral bear on cocaine.

But then I see posts like this, and I put myself in their shoes. I don't know them. They could be a jackass but they could also be like me - someone who bases a lot of motivation for project completion based off of whether or not people even care to see it completed.

This is all a very long, round about away to say that who cares if the author you build a mini-shrine for in your brain thinks your cringe for liking their work? Odds are they probably need to hear that you liked it so much, it inspired you to do something with that feeling. We all need to hear it. They inspired you and now you're making something that will inspire someone else. To be a creator is to share that passion everywhere you go. There's nothing cringe about it.

A writer friend told me something that broke my heart a little bit today; they're going to quit publishing their fanfic.

My instant thought was that they had been trolled or attacked or that something terrible had happened in their life because this person is so passionate about their writing. It wasn't any of that. Engagement with their works has been going down, as it has for many of us. Comments are like gold dust a lot of the time, and just looking through the historical comment counts on old fics on ao3 demonstrates this trend very clearly. It was not simply the comments dropping off which caused them to decide to stop posting, however.

My friend came across a discord server for their fandom (I should point out here that their fandom interest and mine diverged a couple of years ago, we stay in touch but don't currently read each other's posts because I'm not into their fandom and they would rather gouge their eyes out with a wooden spoon than read anything Star Wars) and specifically to share fic in that fandom. They joined, because we all love a good fic rec, only to discover that their latest multichapter fic, which has almost no comments and very few kudos, is being hotly discussed in this server as one of the best stories ever. Not one of these people has bothered to say this to them on the fic. When they asked, none of participants could see the point in telling the author of the fic they apparently loved so much that they love it.

This discovery has absolutely destroyed my friend's love of sharing fic. They share because they love seeing other people's enjoyment, and fic writers do that through comments and kudos/reblogs/likes because we don't get paid. There is no literary critic writing a blog post/article about how amazing the story is for us to copy and keep/frame. There is no money from royalties. All we have are the words of the people reading our works.

Those people on that server could have taken five minutes of the time they spent gushing about how amazing my friend's story was to other people and used it to tell the one person guaranteed to want to hear that praise how much they loved it. They could have taken a moment to express their opinion to the person who spent hours upon hours plotting, writing, editing, and posting those chapters. Instead, they deprived my friend of thing that keeps them sharing their writing, and in the process have killed their love of it. My friend now feels used and unmotivated.

I won't be sharing a link to their fic, they said I could share their experience but not their identity. I know they plan to post one final chapter. I know they intend to express their hurt at being excluded from the praise for the thing they created, and I know they intend to announce that as a consequence they will not be posting for a long while, if at all.

So please, I beg you, don't hide your love of a story from the writer. It's just about the only thing we have.

[cheappickle]

⁰⁴ ʙꜰ ʜᴄ’s

𐔌 ⋮ feat ⋮ ꒱ itoshi rin

𐔌 ⋮ genre ⋮ ꒱ fluff

- rin would exclusively use your first name and there's no chance he would ever refer to you with a term of endearment. he will try and probably fail to tolerate every time you call him a nickname/last name.

- he wouldn’t openly confess his love for you like saying ‘i love you.’ even when you say it to him, you either get a softened scoff or THE glare but inside he will try not to look so affected.

- he would never stop trying to become the best striker, and while your goals are less important to his own in his mind, he would support you and expect you to do the same.

- his passion for soccer will always come first, yet he will take moments in his busy life just for you—moments he wouldn’t typically share with anyone else, like adjusting his daily routine to fit you in.

- rin would not take the lead when it comes to physical contact, nor would he expect any kind of physical affection from you. he would let you initiate in a PRIVATE setting but in public, he wouldn’t be comfortable with it at first.

it’ll take a while until he gets used to PDA, but even then he wouldn’t do much because he likes keeping touches to a minimum in public

- his loyalty to you is unwavering (like how he is with soccer) and if he didn’t feel secure in you or your loyalty then he wouldn’t be with you in the first place

- he wouldn’t tell anyone you are dating, even his parents but isagi (and his friends) would notice that he’s been hanging out with someone (unheard of). they’ve tried to bring it up before but rin would ignore them. in his head, he doesn’t see a reason why they need to know who he is with.

- he would let you be around him as he trains/meditates/etc as long as you’re not being a distraction

- he will let you get away with things that others don’t (ISAGI). it’s nothing that goes over his boundaries, but he would speak a little more softer with you and not ignore you unless you ticked him off (again, isagi).

scenario: isagi thought that rin was in a good mood since he’s been talking to you in a slight gentler tone that day, but when isagi asks him for help, rin ignores him — now, isagi knows to ask for your help when dealing with rin, which frustrates your boyfriend, especially because it works MOST of the time

- if he’s jealous, he will literally death glare the person keeping your attention in the hopes that it would make them uncomfortable so they leave you alone. but when you’re looking at rin confused on why the person left so abruptly, he’s ignoring you.

scenario: isagi. that’s it.

- he won’t tolerate anyone making you uncomfortable. like, he will get up in their face and talk openly shit.

ᴄʜᴇᴀᴘ : i tried to make these hcs accurate to me and my friends understanding of rin + i MIGHT make texts with bf!rin…

©cheappickle :: do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

[neostellarjpg]

inner mono-dialogue

the more time i spend being davepeta with you the more i realize almost every single problem in my life was caused by my obsession with being this unfeeling cool dude

but youre cool already

like in the way that actually matters

youre chill and friendly and just nice and thats all there is to it

youre shamelessly yourself even if everybody around you is a jackass and gives you shit for it

youre similar to jade and john in that way

i really envied that about them

but its different actually being at the control panel and feeling where that earnesty comes from

it makes me wanna match your energy and keep that pawsitivity ball rolling even if it ends up being weird or cringe or whatever

fuck man do you know how exhausting it is building yourself social hoops to leap through all the time and when you trip up even once its suddenly the end of the world

what kinda dumbass does that its like dealing with life in hard mode for no reward

fuck that noise

i like your way better

Nepeta's heart burns and shines inside you.

:33 < thank you :))

:33 < but you know

:33 < i dont think doing things your way is unrewarding

:33 < its like

:33 < a shield!

Dave scrunches up with discomfort.

X33 < i dont mean that in an insulting way!

:33 < the fact is that shields are just purractical sometimes

:33 < it doesnt make you cowardly to hide behind one

:33 < in the same way that it isnt cowardly for a predator to hide in the bushes when stalking prey

:33 < its just a way to make sure you dont get hurt!

:33 < purrsonally i found shields too cumbersome

X33 < im a hunter after all!

:33 < and i guess maybe the same goes for my personality

:33 < its not really that im purrticularly brave for being myself

:33 < i just didnt have a say in the matter in the furst place!

:33 < honestly if i had a choice i would have loved to be more like you dave

:33 < you can befriend people almost effortlessly

:33 < and its beclaws youre also just a nice person

Dave recoils in surprise, but Nepeta passionately pushes forward.

:33 < fur real! i f33l it inside you! theres a really strong sense of empathy there

:33 < its just like mine! just smarter, and a bit more analytical

:33 < whenever we encounter someone mew, its like i f33l you lock onto them, and you gather so many insights into their purrsonality without even trying

:33 < and you can use that to bond with others without giving every part of you away

:33 < which unfortunately

:(( < i never really knew how to do

Nepeta sours with unpleasant feelings. Your brows scrunch together with both pain and sympathy.

Nepeta has a big and complex heart. She tried her best to keep it from spilling over, but it always did in the end. And it was embarrassing. It was embarrassing when your friends dismissed your hobbies or focused in on your strange quirks. It was embarrassing when they revealed they knew about your crush on Karkat that you'd worked so hard to hide. And it hurt whenever he would say mean things about you. He and anyone else.

But you always puffed out your chest and sucked it up. You stuck to your guns no matter what. Because it was fun! The things you liked, the people you liked, were fun, and they made you feel good. Why couldn't anyone else see that? And why did it seem like they never gave a single thought to who you were?

You curl in on yourself. Your chest hurts. You suddenly really miss Equius.

And you miss Rose. You miss Jade. You miss John and Karkat and Aradia and Tavros and Terezi and all the others. You miss all the people you can go outside and see whenever you wish, and you miss all the people that you have no hope of ever seeing again. You feel the choral echo of all the times you've ever felt this need for comfort, this thrumming pain searing hot inside you, like hunger wracking your stomach.

You clench your teeth. You remember being on your bed, curled in blankets, not having eaten a proper meal in days. You remember holding your stomach and sneaking to the kitchen, turning your shoulder at every step to look fearfully behind you, only for your fingers to falter hopelessly on the handle of the refrigerator, knowing there was nothing for you inside.

You shake with anger. You know that feeling. The feeling of being chased by something much bigger than you, a hulking silhouette of menacing strength following your scent through the thicket. You'd clutched a beast carcass to your chest, barely breathing as you stalked clumsily through the trees, performance wavering from exhaustion and hunger.

You'd almost died. You'd almost died often. And then after escaping death so many times, it one day claimed you. Casually. Unflinchingly. And the world beat on without you, leaving you stunned by your own insignificance. You'd looked out onto every preceding moment of your life, wondering if there was anything to truly be proud of in the face of your friends accomplishing all these fantastical things. You'd felt lonely before, but after that, you were truly walled off from every single person you knew.

And now, despite everything, you're alive again. Twofold, together with someone.

A warmth coats the ache inside your body. The two parts of you swirl together, feeling and tasting each other, trying to understand themselves.

It feels like a hug.

[district4loading]

"I Love You"

Twice Sana x Male Reader

4k words

Content Warning: smut, fluff, praise, oral, passion, lots of “i love you”

Minors DNI

A/N: Hey guys!! Had a hard time figuring out the title for this one lmao, don't judge too much. Also, Super grateful for the notes and support on my first fic so here's some fluffy lovey dovey sana x reader smut to contrast from the rough sex from the last fic. Enjoy!!!

-

"You already work so hard.. let me do the rest"

-

It was twelve in the morning when Sana finally got back home. Like always, she opened the door slowly and carefully with consideration for you who had been working all day. She assumed you were already in bed and she didn't want to wake you. So she stepped in and locked the door back before taking light steps to your shared bedroom.

Since it was dark she couldn't really see anything nor was she really paying attention to anything except her routine before bed. She wanted to take off her make up, take a shower then slip into bed with you holding her. That's it. She put her purse down on the dresser and took off her coat, hanging it in the walk in closet. She was careful not to make too much noise with the hangars.

Then Sana went into the bathroom, wincing as she turned the bright light on. She then tweaked the light as dim as it could go, hoping that it wasn't disturbing you much. When she got to the sink, she looked into the mirror, maybe taking a few photos because why not? Then she put her phone in her pocket and went into the cabinet to grab some wipes. She had to kneel down until the mirror was no longer in her view to grab the things she needed.

When Sana stood back up, she still wasn't too focused on the mirror with her head down as she tried to open the package of wipes. That is, until she noticed an unusual dark figure in her peripheral. Out of pure instinct, Sana's body jerked in fear, a cute scream escaping her lips at the same time. She turned around to see you just standing there with an amused look on your face. "Babe! You scared me, I thought you were sleeping" She tapped your arm.

"I only wanted to surprise you I didn't know you'd get scared" You leaned down and puckered your lips. Sana tilted her head back without any hesitation, a smile already appearing on her lips as she allowed them to connect with yours. It was a short, sweet peck, nothing too much. "You look incredible" You noticed, looking into her eyes which were a different bluish color because of the contacts she had in. Although you definitely loved Sana whichever way she was, you could never deny the butterflies in your belly whenever you saw her with makeup on.

"Thank you baby" Sana smiled before turning back around to pick up a wet wipe. You slid your arms around her waist and bent over to put your chin on her shoulder.

"How did things go? You know with the recording and whatnot" You asked as if you knew the logistics of anything that she was doing. You only knew the gist of things from what she's told you before.

Sana sighed, putting down the wipe before she grabbed a hair tie from the small drawer in the counter. "Things went really well this time, we finished up on time" She smiled, then passed the hair tie to you "Can you do it for me?" She asked. You nodded your head, stepping back before tying her hair back in a messy bun.

Then you reassumed your position behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist. You took a deep breath, taking in her natural scent mixed with her perfume. "You smell amazing..." You buried your head into her neck. Then you began to leave kisses there "You work so hard.." You mumbled against her skin, then your hands slipped under her top.

"Babe.." Sana whined in protest while ironically moving her head to give you more access, you hummed in response. "I have to take my makeup off" She complained weakly.

"No you don't, do it later" You whispered, making eye contact with Sana through the mirror. She looked so beautiful, the type of woman that could set your entire body on fire with just a glance. A smirk began to form on her lips as you squeezed her waist with your hands. Then you turned her body around so now she was facing you. "Have I told you how incredible you look?" You questioned the brunette.

Sana nodded her head "Yeah but I don't mind you saying it more" She licked her lips, a sheepish smile on her face as she looked up at you. You leaned down and connected your lips once more, leaving a sweet kiss on hers "Your lips taste..."

"Like lip gloss?" Sana smiled cleverly, trying to finish off your sentence for you.

You shook your head "mm-mm... delicious" You corrected her, removing your hands from her waist for a moment. You reached behind her head to take the hair tie out, letting her long brown locks fall over her shoulders and down her back. "You know I've always preferred you with your hair down" You smiled, acknowledging the little baby hairs that rested on her hairline.

The brunette squealed, startled by the sudden movement you made of lifting her by her waist to sit her on the bathroom counter. Sana giggled cutely afterwards, not even being able to say anything before you connected your lips again. This time it was more than just a short sweet kiss. The two of you were making out. Your hands never leaving her waist, her arms wrapped around your neck, your bodies as close as the position would allow you. Your lips moved in unison with each other, exploring the familiar and comforting confines of each other's mouths.

Soon, you began to deviate from Sana's mouth, kissing the corner, then her cheek, then along her perfect jawline all the way to her neck. She closed her eyes, biting her lip to stifle her moans as you began to lick and suck the exposed skin. Of course, she didn't have to tell you not to leave marks because she trusted that you knew better. But either way you still made it feel amazing, even if you couldn't be as harsh as you wanted.

Hearing Sana's breathing become more audible and feeling her chest heaving against yours, you could tell she was getting turned on. Just to be sure this was going where you wanted it to, you pulled away and looked into her eyes. You were searching for tiredness, acknowledging that she had just finished working and she could be too tired for all of this. But in your search, all you found was lust and need... the type of need that said that she'd been longing for this.

You took a moment to admire her entire face. It was a bright shade of pink, her lips parted, lipgloss smudged, looking up at you with those pleading eyes with her eyebrows curved upwards. Sana wrapped her legs around your waist tightly, forcing your bodies to come together and Instead of feeling stirring in your belly, this time the feeling was emerging in your pants. You reached your hand up and put a hand on her cheek then you moved your thumb, pressing it against her plump lips.

Without any words, she opened up for you, keeping eye contact as she took the digit into her mouth all slow and seductive. She wrapped her lips around the knuckle, then you felt her tongue swirl as she opened her mouth wide for you to see the show. Before she could get done, you pulled your thumb out of her mouth and put your hands back on her waist as you prepared to lift her, bending your knees for a second as you took her into your arms you heard her whine a bit. "I was hoping you'd fuck me on the counter" She said in that sexy pouty voice she knew you loved.

"mm-mm" You shook your head slightly as you walked the short distance out of the bathroom and into your bedroom to put her on the bed gently, climbing on top of her. "I'm not going to 'fuck' you, i'm going to make love to you" You whispered into her ear. Sana immediately got chills, whimpering as you kissed her neck a few more times. You pulled away and looked into her eyes again "I love you" You whispered.

"I love you too" Sana put her hands on your cheeks, completely cupping your face. You leaned down and kissed her lips a few times then pulled away again. Sana slid her hands to the back of your neck, interlocking her fingers before she whispered "Make love to me." It was more of a plea with the tone she said it in, her legs wrapped loosely around your waist.

No other words were needed from that point, you leaned upwards and pulled your T-shirt off. Then you tugged at the hem of her black top. Sana lifted herself off the bed, using only her core strength so you could pull the clothing over her head. Then you reached around her back to unlatch her bra, you did it in the first try and it became undone. You slipped them off of her arms and allowed her upper body to fall back on the bed again.

You then connected your lips, moving your mouth passionately and slowly against hers for a bit. Then you pulled away and grabbed the waistband of her sweatpants. Sana raised her hips and you pulled them off swiftly. You withdrew from her completely, standing up so you could pull down your pants as well. Then you got back onto the bed and between her legs where you belonged. "When was the last time we did this?" You breathed in, feeling the electricity between the both of you as you realized it's been long since you two had been intimate like this. It was mainly because of Sana's schedule but you didn't mind it too much.

"I'm sorry" She apologized, a guilty look on her face as she stared into your loving eyes.

"No No..." You kissed her lips once, then twice for good measure "It's your job, I completely understand. It's just been long, so I wanna savour the moment" You kissed her a third time, seeing a dark smile appear on her face when you pulled away. You leaned upwards, pulling her panties off without needing much help. Then you went back down, kissing Sana's neck again. This time she didn't try to stifle her moans, she just let every cute whine and whimper out, setting off fireworks inside of your body.

You kissed down to her collarbone, then her chest where you took her left nipple into your mouth first. You swirled your tongue around the bud, wetting it and sucking gently as you began to hear needy moans coming from the singer. Then you switched to her right nipple, doing the exact same thing until they were both hard. You leaned upwards, kneeling as you gently put your hands on either of her breasts. You squeezed softly, jiggling them and watching how they moved as if they were weightless.

Sana watched your every move silently, lips parted as she enjoyed the sight and feeling of you exploring her body. You tweaked the stiff nubs between your fingers, eliciting a high pitched squeal from the brunette. Then you leaned back down, continuing to kiss down her body. From her toned abdomen all the way to her inner thighs. You laid on your stomach as you positioned your head between her legs.

Propping herself up on her forearms, Sana was able to watch you. It was then you noticed that arousal coated her entire core. Your eyes darted up to meet hers "You're so wet" You announced redundantly, knowing that she of all people would know that information. You stuck your tongue out, maintaining eye contact as you made one long lick from her entrance all the way to her clit.

"Oh!" Sana gasped, biting her lip as she felt your warm, thick tongue come into contact with her flesh. The first taste of her slippery, salty sweetness was dizzying and so you licked more, trying to lap up as much of her arousal as you could. There was so much of it and somehow, that made you even more secure in your relationship. Just knowing that you could still have this effect on her, even after weeks with no sex, even after years of being together.

She let out cute moans, letting you know that you were doing well as you cleaned her up. You hadn't even really started yet and you noticed her hips moving upwards to meet your mouth. That's when you figured you'd actually begin. You specifically targeted her clit, swirling your tongue around the bundle of nerves. You knew it got her when she threw her head back and allowed her body to fall back onto the bed. Her hips raised again and Sana was grinding into your tongue.

You hummed, knowing she loved the vibrations that came with it which always drove her crazy. Sana was gripping the sheets, trying to cope with the pleasure as you kept moving your tongue. You never got tired and you always swore you could spend a lifetime between Sana's legs, just eating her out because she made for the best meal. "Baby..! Oh - Fuck, please don't stop" Sana begged, not knowing that you'd never even think of stopping until she was satisfied.

Sana's breathing became heavy and fast, her body quaking as she squirmed on your tongue. You knew exactly what to do at this point. You brought your fingers up, prodding her entrance with the two digits. Immediately you saw Sana raise her head, her eyes pleading for you to take her. So that's what you did. You slid both inside, a filthy squelching noise and a scream-like moan following it. After curling your fingers you began to pump them in and out, hearing beautiful loud moans coming from your girlfriend.

You always thought she was a great singer but that could never compare to the way she sounded when she was moaning. "Y/n.. please" She begged, not really knowing what for because she knew she could let go whenever she felt like it. "God i'm right fucking there" She warned you as you pressed your fingers up against her g-spot.

Humming "mm-hm" in response to her warning seemed to do the trick as you witnessed her go over the edge right then and there. Her legs began to tremble, back arching as you pumped your fingers in and out with the same rhythm, still swirling your tongue on her clit.

"I'm cumming" She squealed right before you began to feel her leaking all over your fingers, wetness spilling out of her cunt as you slid your fingers out. Sana's body was glowing red and covered in sweat at this point, her face was no different. With strands of her brown hair were stuck to her face she looked so beautiful.

You crawled up her body, beginning to feel an ache in your crotch as you kissed her lips once more. "I love you" You whispered, digging your hand into your boxers to pull your cock out. It was throbbing at this point, aching to be taken care of.

"I love you too" Sana mumbled against your skin "mmh- let me.." She said, trying to reach it after you pulled away to take your boxers off fully. Once they were off you took it into your hand.

"Lay back" You said it so softly, leaning over her with almost all of your weight. "You already work so hard.. let me do the rest" You muttered in that same tone. One that made Sana's face flush even redder.

She didn't say another word, just allowed you to continue. You took your cock into your hand then guided the tip to her entrance. Looking into her eyes once more to make sure, you could see that she was anticipating it. You slid in slowly and unusually, Sana didn't close her eyes. She winced a little, her eyes squinted some and her eyebrows turned upwards but she kept her eyes trained on you. The entire time.

You did the same of course, staring into her beautiful needy eyes as you handled her body with the utmost care. Once you made it to the hilt, you stayed there for a moment and allowed yourself to feel the tight and warm hug her pussy offered to you. She felt amazing, you took a breath before leaning down to kiss her lips again.

Then you came back up, keeping your balance as you grabbed both of sana's wrists and put them against the bed over her head. You held them together with both of your hands and then you began to move, pulling your hips back and gently sliding back inside. Sana's lips parted, letting out soft, pleasureful moans and so you began to roll your hips forwards and backwards in a rhythm.

Sana ended up breaking eye contact, her head turning to the side as she shut her eyes. Her face was sort of scrunched up as she continued to moan, beautiful noises that filled your ears. It didn't help that you could also hear the obscene squelching noises that came with each roll of your hips. It was all so dizzying, the pleasure, her reactions and the sounds she made.

"I need you closer" Sana murmured, her tone whiny and pleading. You let go of her wrists, letting your body lay on top of hers without stopping your thrusts. Your head fell into the crook of her neck, and Sana immediately wrapped her arms around you, her legs also tightening around your waist. "Thank you" she moaned it into your ear.

It was better like this, your bodies pressed together. Her mouth by your ear so you could clearly hear every little noise that escaped her lips. Your lips on her neck where you could kiss and suck on the flesh at your own free will. Sana's legs around your waist, which didn't make much room for flexibility in your movements but you didn't mind. Everything was enough and Sana was more than enough for you.

You closed your eyes, feeling the pleasure begin to overcome your entire body. Low groans bubbled in your throat as you became hotter and hotter. You began to hear Sana's moans get louder, more needy. If that didn't give it away then the clenching you felt inside definitely did. She was close, oh so close. It was hard to handle feeling your body humping into hers at such a slow and sensual pace. Feeling the vibrations of you groaning against her neck, having you so close... it was too much.

Taking this as a sign, you leaned up a bit, just so you could look into her eyes for this moment. You sped up your movements a bit and now there was a soft clapping sound that could be heard with each of your thrusts. "B-baby i'm-"

"Shh" You whispered, pinning her hands to the bed and interlocking her fingers with yours. You felt her squeeze back "Don't close your eyes" You asked softly watching as she struggled a bit to keep them open. Her body had been moving up and down gently from the force of your movements. She looked up into your eyes, a look of pure love and concentration on your face as you tried not to let go. You were also close but you wanted to let her cum first. "I love you" You whispered, leaving a short and sweet kiss on her lips.

Sana moaned a little bit louder, her legs squeezing your hips and her hands squeezing yours. "I love you" She responded right before her body began to tremble. Sana tried to keep her eyes open, she really did. But the second she froze and then her orgasm hit her, there was no hope. Yes her eyes were open, but her pupils seemed to roll into the back of her head so she couldn't see a thing. She also couldn't control it at all when her eyelids inevitably did slam shut. Gasping and shaking she finally came down from the orgasm, it was no doubt one of the best of her life.

She sighed, a small giggle escaping her lips right before she opened her eyes, looking at you with all the love in the world. "Thank you" She whispered and you just leaned down and kissed her, stopping your movements so you could focus on the kiss. It was so pure, so filled with love, so comfortable. You could've spent hours kissing her in that exact way, your tongues intertwining, your breaths synced up. It was all so intimate.

You pulled away and looked into her eyes for a moment. She slipped her hands out of your loosened grip and put them on either side of your face. She was cupping your cheeks now "You're so beautiful" You whispered, beginning to move your hips again. This time you were going at your own pace, the only one that felt right in the moment. You kept it slow as you admired her face. This was a woman you needed to take your time with, appreciate and shower with affection. "You feel so amazing" You sighed.

Sana had a smile on her face, one that spoke a million words. It told you just how much she loved you, the look in her eyes filled with adoration. Her legs tightened around your hips she could feel the way your cock twitched inside of her walls. You didn't fully notice it at the moment but just a few more strokes and you would climax. You didn't want this to end, it was too soon. But she just finished work, this didn't have to be any longer than it needed to be.

So you kept looking into her eyes "Sana..." You whispered "I'm going to"

Sana nodded her head eagerly, that same smile on her face. She looked so damn pretty. "Inside baby" She stated, still cupping your cheeks in her hands. You nodded, getting a final three strokes in before you finally erupted. Spewing thick globs of white into her hot entrance, she began subtly rubbing your cheeks as you orgasmed. You grunted and groaned with each hot spurt that came out having to close your eyes much like she did.

Soon you stopped and allowed your body to fall on top of hers. "I love you" You whispered, swallowing thickly as you caught your breath.

Sana caressed the back of your head, running her fingers through your short hair "I love you more than you could ever know"

[perdidosbucky-yyo]

OHMYGOOOOOOD

Thank God this wasn't as sad as the others 😭 I needed a break from crying.

"Maybe it’s fate," she joked, but her tone had a hint of seriousness.

The way I almost screamed bc IT IS FATE 🥺🩷

Logan followed without complaint, falling into step beside you as you made your way to the car. The streets were quieter than usual, but the tension between rival families was palpable—something was brewing, and everyone knew it.

Istg when I read this I was so sure y/n would end up with a bullet between her eyes, that's how scared I am😂

You laughed, standing up and dusting your hands off. “Sorry to disappoint. I’ve got a weakness for strays.”

Logan being the ultimate stray😅🤭 she's always drawn to him

Mr. Russo gave Logan a once-over, then grinned, his false teeth gleaming. “You any good at cards, tough guy?”

This was so precious to me!! Logan playing cards with y/n and her friends ❤️

“Yeah?” You took a step closer, crossing your arms with a playful grin. “And here I thought I’d be driving you crazy.”

“You do,” he murmured, almost too quietly. His lips turned up slightly, but he looked away, that unspoken wall going back up.

This has so many meanings, not only flirting but I can imagine after over 100 years loving and losing the same person over and over, that would definitely drive him crazy

You glanced down the hall and shrugged. “Guess I can live with that. For now.”

Logan’s lips twitched, just barely. “For now,” he echoed, and there was something heavier in those words, something he wasn’t sharing.

MY HEART ACHED💔💔💔💔

The kiss was desperate, wild, like he was making up for lost time. His lips claimed yours with a roughness that sent a shiver down your spine, his hands moving to cradle your face, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t stand the distance. You gasped against his mouth, your fingers finding their way into his hair, tugging him down harder.

Logan groaned into your mouth, a deep, almost pained sound, and the desperation in it made your blood race. He kissed you like he was starving, like he needed this, needed you, and you felt your body melt into him.

Omfg I've never seen them so passionate it's making me feel things 😮‍💨 the smut was perfect balance of passion and desperation

And this time, he was determined to make it last as long as he could. Maybe, just maybe, even put that ring to use.

Screaming crying throwing up 😭🥺🥺🥺 bc I desperately need to see when he proposes but I can't even imagine how it would go

You felt a surge of affection for him then, this man who’d somehow become both your protector and your closest confidant. He was rough around the edges, guarded and distant with everyone else—but with you, he was different. You brought out a softness in him, a warmth that felt as though it had been buried for a long, long time.

This might be one of the best dialogues I've read, bc it's so true 🥺 for decades this man has tried everything in his power to cherish and protect the love of his life, she's the only one that brings out a resemblance of peace on him😭💔

Logan’s gaze darkened. “It’s not. You know that. And anyone who tries to take it without your say? They got me to deal with.” His voice was low and dangerous, a promise just for you.

Forever obsessed with this story and the way he will do anything to help and adore y/n❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

i love you, in every time ࿐‧₊ 1973 - we meet again my dear...

chapter summary: After leaving Team X behind, Logan finds himself back in New York City working as a bodyguard for various people. Until he finds himself acting as a bodyguard for you, a mobster's daughter.

word count: 18.3k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: i'm a sucker for the bodyguard trope (and also just dofp logan in general, that man makes me go feral), so you know i had to do it when given the chance! i had so much fun writing this version of reader, especially because this is the closest to 'modern' times that we've gotten and i didn't have to do a ton of research about this year. the tags might give away a little bit of the plot, but i promise it's gonna be a fun ride ;)

warnings/tags: fluff, angst, 70s!logan, mafia/mob, implied age gap, flirting, smut, thigh riding, unprotected piv, creampie, arranged marriage

series masterlist - chapter 4 → chapter 6

He left Stryker, Victor, and Team X behind, settling in New York City as a bodyguard, hired by various people: politicians, the mafia, anyone.

Logan was now getting his fifth job, protecting a mobster’s young daughter.

He was used to jobs like this by now, but something about this one felt... different. As he walked through the large estate, the details blurred around him. His focus was on the job—until the moment he saw you.

You were standing by the window, the sunlight filtering through the curtains, casting a soft glow over your face. There was something familiar about the way you held yourself, the way your hair fell over your shoulders. For a second, it felt like the air was sucked out of the room.

Logan’s chest tightened.

It was you.

Same face. Same presence. Same pull that had haunted him for over a century.

But you were different, too. This time, you weren’t a schoolteacher, a nurse, or a coal miner’s wife. You were his new job.

You turned, eyes meeting his, and for a brief moment, it felt like you recognized him too. That sense of familiarity flickered across your face before you smiled—polite, but distant.

“Y/N, this is Logan,” the mobster—your father—introduced. “He’ll be your new bodyguard.”

Your father’s voice faded into the background as Logan’s gaze remained locked on you. You gave a small nod, extending your hand. “Nice to meet you, Logan.”

Logan stared at your hand for a beat too long before taking it. That brief contact sent a shock through him, an old memory he couldn’t quite shake.

“Likewise,” he muttered, his voice rougher than he intended.

Your father clapped Logan on the back. “I expect you’ll keep her safe. There’s been some... tension with a rival family.”

Logan only nodded, but his attention stayed on you. You were right in front of him, alive. But you didn’t know him. Like always.

After your father left the room, you leaned against the window frame, crossing your arms. “So, how long have you been doing this?” you asked, your tone casual.

Logan leaned against the wall, watching you closely. “Long enough.”

You raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth. “That’s vague.”

He didn’t respond, and for a moment, silence settled between you two. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but there was something unsaid hanging in the air.

“What about you?” Logan asked, more to fill the space than out of curiosity. “How do you feel about having a bodyguard?”

You shrugged. “I’ve had worse.”

That earned a faint, almost imperceptible smile from Logan, but he quickly covered it with a grunt. “Glad to hear it.”

A pause. Then you looked at him, your eyes narrowing slightly, like you were trying to figure him out. “You seem... familiar.”

Logan stiffened. “Don’t think we’ve met before.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “No, but... I don’t know. Something about you.”

Logan’s heart pounded in his chest, but he kept his expression neutral. He couldn’t tell you. Not about the past lives, not about how many times he had watched you die.

You shrugged it off, smiling again. “Maybe I’m just imagining things.”

“Maybe,” Logan muttered, not meeting your eyes this time.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of introductions, schedules, and instructions from your father. Logan followed at a distance, keeping an eye on you, but his mind was elsewhere.

That night, Logan sat on the balcony just outside your room, staring out at the city lights. His thoughts raced, the weight of the engagement ring in his pocket feeling heavier than usual.

You were alive. Again.

But for how long this time?

---

You plopped onto your bed, the wire from your rotary phone stretching with you, “he is good looking though.”

You could practically hear Jennifer’s grin through the phone, “oh, yeah? Man, all your bodyguards are good looking. It’s not fair!”

You laughed, twirling the phone cord between your fingers. "He’s… different though. I can’t quite put my finger on it. He’s quiet, but not in the usual 'I’m-paid-to-watch-you' way."

"Is he mysterious?" Jennifer teased, her voice light. "Maybe he’s got some dark, brooding backstory. Mob families always hire guys like that—‘strong and silent.’"

You snorted. "Maybe. But he’s not like the others." You hesitated, leaning back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling. “There’s something familiar about him… like I’ve met him before.”

Jennifer paused on the other end of the line, then her voice softened. "You think he’s one of your dad’s guys from back in the day?"

You shook your head, even though she couldn’t see it. "No, it’s not that. It’s… weird, Jen. Like I know him, but I don’t. It’s been bugging me since I met him."

"Maybe it’s fate," she joked, but her tone had a hint of seriousness. "You’ve been going through bodyguards like they’re tissues. Maybe this one’s here to stick around."

You rolled your eyes but smiled. "Fate? You’ve been reading too many romance novels."

"Hey, a girl can dream!" Jennifer laughed. "But seriously, if you feel something, maybe it’s worth looking into. He’s hot, right?"

You smiled at that, though your thoughts wandered back to Logan. The way his eyes lingered on you, like he was seeing something no one else could. "Yeah," you admitted softly. "He’s definitely that. He’s probably as old as my dad or somethin’. But man, Jen, if you saw him you’d lose your mind.”

You twirled the phone cord around your finger, still smiling to yourself, but your thoughts kept circling back to Logan. Something about the way he looked at you—like he knew more than he was saying—stuck with you. It wasn’t creepy or overprotective. It was... familiar. Comforting, even.

Jennifer’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. “Hey, don’t overthink it, okay? Enjoy the view for once. Not everyone gets a hot bodyguard with a mysterious vibe. Maybe he’s the silver lining to your dad’s whole ‘paranoia’ problem.”

You laughed quietly. “Yeah, maybe.”

You hung up not long after, still feeling the weight of that odd, lingering sense of déjà vu.

---

The next morning, Logan was waiting for you downstairs. Dressed in his usual dark clothes, he stood near the front door with his hands in his pockets, posture relaxed but alert. His eyes flicked toward you the second you entered the room.

There it was again—that heavy gaze that made it feel like he could see right through you.

“Mornin’,” you said, offering a small smile.

“Mornin’,” Logan replied, his voice gravelly.

Your father wasn’t home—out dealing with ‘business’—which gave you a rare moment to yourself. Well, mostly. You slipped on your leather jacket and glanced at Logan, your lips quirking up in a teasing grin. “What’s the plan, bodyguard? Gonna follow me around all day?”

Logan grunted, something close to amusement flashing in his eyes. “That’s the job.”

“You always this chatty?”

“Only when I meet interesting people.” His tone was dry, but there was the faintest flicker of a smile beneath it.

You snorted, heading for the door. “C’mon, hope you like running errands.”

Logan followed without complaint, falling into step beside you as you made your way to the car. The streets were quieter than usual, but the tension between rival families was palpable—something was brewing, and everyone knew it.

Still, Logan’s presence made you feel... safer. Like nothing bad could happen as long as he was there. It was strange. You barely knew him, but being around him felt easy. Natural. Like you’d known him for a lot longer than a day.

---

When you said you were going to run ‘errands,’ Logan hadn’t expected you to walk straight into an animal shelter. He followed you through the entrance, nodding politely at the woman at the front desk as you greeted her like an old friend.

“Morning, Lorraine!” you said with a bright smile.

Lorraine, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes, smiled back. “There’s my favorite troublemaker. The pups will be glad to see you.” She cast a curious glance at Logan. “And who’s this?”

“My latest babysitter,” you said with a smirk, glancing at Logan. “Logan, meet Lorraine. Lorraine, Logan.”

Logan gave a curt nod. “Ma’am.”

Lorraine chuckled. “A man of few words. I like him already.” She waved you both toward the back. “Go on, they’ve been waiting for you.”

As soon as you walked past the front desk and entered the back area, the sound of excited barking filled the air. Dogs of all sizes pressed their noses against the bars of their cages, tails wagging furiously at the sight of you.

You crouched down in front of one of the kennels, talking softly to a scruffy little mutt as it whined and pawed at the bars. “Hey, buddy. Miss me?”

Logan leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching the way you scratched behind the dog's ears. There was something easy about the way you moved here, something soft. For a mobster’s kid, you had a surprisingly gentle touch.

"Didn't expect this to be part of the job," Logan muttered after a moment, his voice low but teasing.

You glanced up, grinning. "What, thought I’d be shopping for fur coats or shaking people down for cash?"

Logan raised a brow. "Somethin’ like that."

You laughed, standing up and dusting your hands off. “Sorry to disappoint. I’ve got a weakness for strays.” You reached into your jacket pocket and pulled out a small bag of treats, tossing some into the kennels. "These guys have it rough enough without me skipping out on them."

Logan watched as the dogs practically fought over the treats, barking happily at your attention. You moved from cage to cage, giving each dog a little affection. It was... unexpected.

Logan watched you toss the last treat into one of the kennels, the scruffy mutt practically vibrating with happiness. He leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, an amused glint in his eyes as you turned and dusted your hands off with a grin.

"You’re full of surprises," Logan muttered.

You raised an eyebrow, smirking as you folded your arms. “Oh, yeah? Disappointed?”

"Not exactly." His lips twitched, like he was fighting a smile.

You took a step closer, tilting your head. "Well, what did you expect?"

Logan shrugged, keeping his expression neutral. "Spoiled. Entitled. Maybe a little dangerous."

You laughed, the sound light and easy, and Logan’s chest tightened in a way that felt too familiar. "Dangerous, huh? Guess I’ve got some layers." You gave him a playful once-over. "What about you? Big, scary bodyguard with a brooding vibe. Got any surprises I should know about?"

Logan snorted. "Not really."

You narrowed your eyes like you didn’t quite believe him, but instead of pressing, you motioned toward the door. "C’mon. I’ve got one more stop."

Logan fell into step beside you as you exited the shelter and made your way toward the car. You chatted casually, filling the silence with stories about your favorite dogs at the shelter. But Logan stayed mostly quiet, his mind racing. It wasn’t just your voice—it was you. The way you carried yourself, the way you teased him like it was second nature.

He stole a glance at you as you drove. God, it felt the same as always. Like gravity pulled him toward you whether he wanted it or not.

---

Logan should’ve expected the second time around that you weren’t taking him to a normal place for errands. He was even more surprised when you parked in a nursing home parking lot and got out with that same pep in your step.

The sliding doors opened as you walked up to the front counter, where a middle-aged woman with tired eyes peered over the top of a blocky computer monitor. Her name tag read Carol.

“Morning, Carol,” you chirped with an easy smile, tapping your fingers on the desk.

Carol looked up and brightened at the sight of you. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite visitor. Here to cheer up the old-timers again?”

“Always,” you said, flashing a grin. “And I brought backup today.” You gestured behind you to Logan, who gave a brief nod.

Carol gave him a once-over and arched an eyebrow. “Well now, you didn’t tell me you’d be bringing a tall drink of water.”

You smirked, glancing over your shoulder at Logan. “Yeah, figured I’d mix things up.”

Logan just grunted in response, but the corner of his mouth twitched slightly—half amusement, half something else. Carol winked at you before waving toward the hallway. “You know where to find them.”

You led Logan down the hall, your steps light and familiar as if you'd been coming here for years. He followed quietly, his sharp gaze flicking between doorways and hallways, always alert.

“You spend a lot of time here?” Logan asked as you slowed near a door marked Activity Room.

You shrugged. “Yeah. Most of these folks don’t get many visitors. It’s nice to stop by and remind them they’re not forgotten.”

Logan gave a small grunt of acknowledgment. It was such a simple thing—volunteering at a nursing home—but it hit him hard. It was just like you to find the overlooked parts of the world and give them your attention, like the dogs at the shelter, like the people here. You always had that streak of kindness, no matter which life you were living.

You nudged open the door, stepping into the room. A group of residents sat in mismatched chairs, some knitting, others half-watching a daytime soap on an old television. At the sight of you, faces lit up.

“There she is!” one of the older women called, setting her knitting aside with a delighted clap of her hands. “I thought you forgot about us!”

“As if I ever could,” you replied warmly, walking over to give her a light hug.

Logan lingered near the doorway, watching as you moved through the room like you belonged there, chatting with each resident, asking about their week, their families—if they remembered them. His heart twisted, both with admiration and an ache that wouldn’t quit.

You noticed him standing off to the side and shot him a teasing grin. “Don’t be shy, Logan. They won’t bite.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Not worried about them.”

You laughed, turning back to an older man with a deck of cards spread out in front of him. “Logan, meet Mr. Russo. He’s got a mean poker face.”

Mr. Russo gave Logan a once-over, then grinned, his false teeth gleaming. “You any good at cards, tough guy?”

Logan shrugged. “I can hold my own.”

You slid into the chair beside Mr. Russo, motioning for Logan to join you. “Care to test your luck?”

Logan hesitated for only a moment before pulling out a chair, the legs scraping against the linoleum. As he sat down, you dealt him a hand, your fingers brushing his in the process—a fleeting touch, but enough to send a jolt of familiarity through both of you.

You caught Logan’s gaze over the cards, a flicker of something unspoken passing between you. There it was again—that sense that you knew him somehow, though you couldn’t quite place it. It nagged at you, but you let it pass, offering him a playful smirk instead.

“Careful,” you warned. “I don’t go easy on anyone.”

Logan returned the smirk, something dangerous glinting in his eyes. “Neither do I.”

---

After the game, which you won—barely, you said your goodbyes to the residents, promising to visit again soon. Logan followed silently as you made your way back to the car, the soft clinking of your keys the only sound between you.

“Not what you expected for today, huh?” you asked as you slid into the driver’s seat.

Logan leaned against the car door, arms crossed. “Not exactly.”

You smiled, starting the engine. “Bet you thought being a mobster’s kid would be more... glamorous.”

“Something like that.” He gave you a sidelong glance. “You like keeping people guessing, don’t you?”

You grinned, shifting the car into drive. “It’s one of my many talents.”

The two of you drove in companionable silence, the hum of the city filling the space between you. Logan rested his elbow on the window frame, glancing at you every so often. You were like a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve—different from the others, yet still unmistakably you.

“Why do you do it?” he asked after a while. “The shelter, the nursing home. You don’t have to.”

You shrugged, your expression thoughtful. "Dunno. Just because I was born into this life doesn’t mean I like what my dad does. I guess sometimes I feel like I’m tryin’ to balance the scales."

Logan leaned back against the seat, his sharp gaze on you, but he didn’t respond right away. You could tell he was chewing on that—probably picking apart your words, trying to figure you out. He always seemed like the kind of man who noticed everything, even if he didn’t say much about it.

You flashed him a teasing grin, trying to lighten the mood. "What about you? Any skeletons in the closet? Or are you just a man of mystery with perfect timing?"

Logan snorted softly, his lips twitching in that almost-smile he had. "I’m no mystery. Just do my job."

"Oh, come on," you pressed, throwing him a playful look. "You gotta give me something. Favorite food? Ever been married? Deep, dark secret?"

He gave you a sidelong glance, amused but guarded. "Steak. No. And not a chance."

You huffed in mock disappointment, drumming your fingers on the steering wheel. "You’re no fun, Logan."

"Never said I was," he muttered, but there was warmth in his tone, like he didn’t mind your teasing at all.

The conversation paused for a moment, the soft hum of the engine filling the space between you. Logan’s eyes lingered on you a little longer than they probably should have—taking in the curve of your smile, the way your fingers tapped a rhythm on the wheel.

And damn, if you didn’t make it hard to stay detached. You were so... alive. Every glance, every smile, every little laugh. You carried yourself like someone who knew how fleeting things could be—and even though Logan knew you couldn’t remember, he remembered every time you’d slipped through his fingers. That thought settled heavy in his chest, like a weight he carried everywhere.

You shot him a grin. "You know, if you keep looking at me like that, I’m gonna think you’re interested."

Logan’s lips twitched. "What makes you think I’m not?"

The boldness of his response caught you off guard for a second, but you recovered quickly, leaning a little closer, eyes glinting with mischief. "Careful, tough guy. You’re supposed to be protecting me, not flirting with me."

"Who says I can’t do both?" His voice was low, rough, and it sent a small shiver down your spine.

You tilted your head, pretending to consider it. "I think my dad might disagree."

Logan’s eyes darkened slightly, though his expression didn’t change. "Your dad’s not here."

There it was—that pull again, the quiet, unspoken gravity between the two of you. It was like standing on the edge of something dangerous and thrilling all at once. You felt it in the way his gaze lingered, in the weight of his words. He wasn’t just playing along.

You cleared your throat, breaking the tension with a teasing smile. "Well, if you’re planning on making a move, Logan, you better make it good. I’ve got high standards, y’know."

Logan let out a low chuckle—quiet, but genuine—and for a moment, you thought you saw something softer in his eyes. Something like... affection.

But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by that familiar guarded expression.

"Noted," he muttered, shifting his gaze back to the road ahead.

You grinned, satisfied that you’d managed to chip away at his walls, even if only a little.

---

The two of you finished your errands without any trouble, stopping by a grocery store for some essentials and grabbing a late lunch at a small diner tucked away from the main streets. It wasn’t much—just burgers and fries—but sitting across from Logan in the booth, you felt surprisingly content.

He was quiet most of the time, but not in a way that felt awkward. It was... comfortable. Like he didn’t need to fill the silence just for the sake of it. And every now and then, he’d throw out a dry, sarcastic comment that made you laugh harder than you expected.

You leaned back in the booth, sipping your soda and watching him over the rim of your glass. "Y’know, Logan... you’re not half as scary as you look."

Logan raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. "Disappointed?"

"Not at all," you replied, your smile turning a little softer. "I like surprises."

He held your gaze for a moment, something unreadable flickering behind those sharp blue eyes. And for a second—just a second—you thought maybe, just maybe, there was something familiar about the way he looked at you. Like you were more than just a job to him.

But before you could dwell on it, Logan glanced at his watch and cleared his throat. "We should head back. Your old man’ll be expecting you."

You sighed dramatically, sliding out of the booth. "Guess my fun’s over."

Logan chuckled, tossing a few bills on the table for the check. "For now."

You gave him a playful nudge as you walked past him toward the door. "Don’t sound too excited."

---

By the time you got back to the house, the sun was starting to dip below the horizon, casting the streets in a soft orange glow. Logan followed you inside, his quiet presence grounding you in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

"Thanks for today," you said, tossing your jacket onto a chair.

Logan gave a small nod, leaning against the wall near the door. "No problem."

You hesitated for a moment, then shot him one last grin. "You know, you’re not as bad as I thought."

"Same to you," he replied, that almost-smile creeping back onto his face.

And just like that, the unspoken connection between you simmered beneath the surface, waiting.

Maybe Logan was right. Maybe your dad would be pissed if he knew how much you enjoyed your new bodyguard’s company.

But standing there, watching Logan’s gaze linger on you for just a beat too long, you found you didn’t care all that much.

"Goodnight, Logan," you said softly, turning toward the stairs.

"Goodnight, Y/N," he replied, his voice low and steady.

And as you climbed the stairs, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t the first time you’d said goodnight to him like this.

Not by a long shot.

---

Your dad told you not to leave the house today, which was fine by you, you had laundry to do anyways.

It had become habit to do your own laundry, even if you did have maids around the house. Nancy, one of the older maids, was the one to teach you that, along with cooking and cleaning since your mother has been gone since you were little.

You had a radio set on the washer, the familiar croon of 70s tunes filling the small laundry room as you pulled warm clothes from the dryer into a basket. You’d been at it for the better part of the morning, the simple domestic task giving you a sense of normalcy. The soft hum of the machines, the crackling radio, and the scent of clean laundry— it was all routine.

Routine helped keep your mind off the storm brewing outside your little bubble.

You sighed, swaying your hips a bit to the music as you lifted the basket. The house felt quieter today, with your dad off dealing with ‘business’ as usual. And Logan? He was somewhere nearby, probably lurking in the shadows like the brooding protector he was.

As if on cue, Logan appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. He was dressed in his usual dark clothing, looking as stoic as ever. You wondered if he ever wore anything other than flannels and a leather jacket.

"You know, I didn’t take you for the laundry-doing type," he remarked, his gravelly voice cutting through the music.

You raised an eyebrow, throwing a playful glance over your shoulder. "What, you think I’m too spoiled to do my own chores?"

Logan's lips twitched, almost forming a smile. "Something like that."

You smirked, grabbing the laundry basket and turning to face him. "I like to surprise people."

"You’re good at it," he replied, his gaze lingering a little longer than usual. There was something behind those eyes, something deeper, but as always, he kept it hidden beneath that calm, impenetrable exterior.

You tilted your head, leaning your hip against the dryer. "You sticking around or just checking on me?"

Logan shrugged, though his eyes never left yours. "Just making sure you're not running off anywhere. Your dad was pretty clear about staying put."

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips softened the gesture. "I’ll be a good girl. Promise."

Logan grunted in response, pushing off the doorframe and walking closer. "You’re a lot of things, Y/N. Not sure ‘good girl’ is one of them."

You let out a laugh, swatting at him with a towel. "Hey, I can behave when I want to. It’s just more fun not to."

He caught your wrist with ease, holding it for a second too long before letting go. There was that familiar tension between you again, the unspoken something that crackled in the air whenever the two of you were close. He probably didn't mean to linger, but you could feel it—that pull.

"Maybe it’s the company," you teased, grabbing your laundry basket. "You bring out the best in me."

Logan didn’t respond immediately, but there was something in his eyes, something that made your breath hitch. He was quiet, but not in the usual way bodyguards were. With Logan, there was a weight to his silence, like he was always holding back, always watching.

You pushed past the lingering tension with a grin, heading toward the door with your laundry. "Come on, broody. Let’s get out of the laundry room before we both go stir-crazy."

As you passed by, you brushed against him—just lightly, but enough to send a small jolt through you. He didn’t move, but his eyes followed your every step, that silent intensity never wavering.

You stopped in the hallway and shot him a look over your shoulder. “You’re making this way too serious, you know. I’m doing laundry, not sneaking out of prison.”

“Old habits die hard,” he replied, crossing his arms with a slight smirk. “Besides, I think your dad’s idea of ‘safe’ is pretty different from yours.”

You rolled your eyes, hugging the laundry basket closer. “Right. Next, he’ll say I need an escort to the mailbox.”

Logan raised a brow, clearly amused. “You wouldn’t be the first.”

That earned him a laugh, and you shook your head, settling the basket on the table in the hall. “Guess you’re stuck with me then, bodyguard.”

“Doesn’t seem so bad,” he said, his voice softening as he glanced at you. His gaze was familiar in a way you couldn’t place, like he’d looked at you this way a hundred times before.

“Yeah?” You took a step closer, crossing your arms with a playful grin. “And here I thought I’d be driving you crazy.”

“You do,” he murmured, almost too quietly. His lips turned up slightly, but he looked away, that unspoken wall going back up.

“Good,” you teased, reaching out to poke him in the chest. “Keeps things interesting.”

Logan caught your hand before you could pull it back, holding it just long enough that you could feel the warmth of his touch, the quiet strength in it. There was something in his eyes that hinted at… more. Like he’d known you far longer than you could’ve ever guessed.

“Is that what you want?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart thumped, but you kept your tone light. “Depends on what you’re offering, doesn’t it?”

His gaze dropped to your hand, still caught in his. He let go, but there was something in his expression that lingered. It was like he was searching for the right words, something he couldn’t quite say. Or maybe didn’t want to.

Instead, he settled back with that guarded look. “Better get used to me being around,” he said, nodding toward the front of the house. “Your dad won’t have it any other way.”

You glanced down the hall and shrugged. “Guess I can live with that. For now.”

Logan’s lips twitched, just barely. “For now,” he echoed, and there was something heavier in those words, something he wasn’t sharing.

You lingered for a moment, the silence stretching between you, before you picked up the basket again. “Well, I’ve got more laundry to fold. But if you feel like helping out…”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Nice try, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes, shooting him a wink. “Fine. I’ll let you off easy this time.”

“Appreciate it,” he said with a smirk, but his eyes softened as he watched you turn to go, like he was holding back something he couldn’t quite name.

As you walked away, the light-heartedness of the moment stayed with you, but so did something else. It was that look Logan had, the one that made you feel seen, like he knew you better than anyone else ever had.

Maybe he did.

Or maybe, in some impossible way, he always had.

---

“No, no, no, cara. Give it to me.” Nancy took the mixing bowl away from you, stirring the batter while muttering something in Italian.

You leaned your hip against the counter, placing your head on Nancy’s shoulder with a pout. "I was doing what you’re doing.”

Nancy shook her head, stirring the batter with a practiced hand, her warm, familiar presence comforting. “No, cara mia, you were doing what you think I’m doing.” She shot you a look, one of those fond, chiding glances she’d perfected over the years. “And it was not the same.”

You laughed, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Fine, but you’re teaching me bad habits. This is how I stay spoiled, you know.”

She chuckled, patting your cheek affectionately. “You think you need me to be spoiled? You do just fine on your own.”

Before you could respond, Logan’s familiar silhouette appeared in the doorway. He leaned against the frame, watching you with a slight smirk that was becoming all too familiar—and endearing.

“Careful, Nancy,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “She’s already hard enough to handle.”

You turned, hands on your hips, feigning offense. “Excuse me, hard to handle?”

Logan shrugged, crossing his arms with a smirk. “You said it, not me.”

Nancy chuckled, eyes sparkling as she looked between you and Logan. “Ah, Y/N, he’s right. You do have a little spirit.”

You scoffed playfully, giving Logan an exaggerated glare before grinning back at Nancy. “What? I’m an angel, and you know it.”

Logan snorted, clearly enjoying himself. “Right. A real saint.” He gave you a knowing look, one that made your stomach flip despite yourself. That unspoken energy simmered between you two, even as you tried to keep it casual.

Nancy just shook her head, muttering something in Italian as she set the bowl down. “Angels don’t cause so much trouble,” she teased, pinching your cheek. “I taught you better.”

You rubbed your cheek with a grin, leaning back against the counter. “I’m blaming Logan. His bad influence must be rubbing off on me.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “That right? Thought you didn’t need any help there.”

“Oh, I don’t,” you said, crossing your arms with a challenging look. “I’m fully capable of trouble on my own.”

Nancy watched the two of you with a satisfied smile, turning back to her baking. “Ah, I see,” she murmured, her voice light. “It’s good to have someone who knows how to keep you in check.”

The glint in her eye wasn’t lost on you, and you rolled your eyes. “You’re making it sound like I’m some kind of wild child.”

“No, no,” she replied with a grin, waving her hand. “Just that I think he knows you better than you think, cara.”

Logan’s gaze softened a little at that, and though he didn’t say anything, his look lingered, as if he were silently agreeing with her.

You cleared your throat, feeling the familiar warmth creeping up your neck. “Well,” you started, trying to brush off the moment, “if Logan’s going to stick around, he might as well help.”

Nancy gave a sly smile, turning to Logan. “What do you say, Logan? A little kitchen work wouldn’t hurt.”

Logan shook his head, holding his hands up in surrender. “You two are doing just fine without me.”

You shot him a grin, taking a step closer. “Oh, come on. Big, tough Logan afraid of a little flour?”

His smirk softened as he looked down at you. “You keep pushing, and I might just teach you a lesson in troublemaking.”

Your stomach fluttered at the way his gaze stayed locked on yours, that familiar pull tugging you closer. “Is that a threat?”

“Call it… a warning,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand brushed against yours, just for a second, but it was enough to send a spark up your arm.

Nancy cleared her throat, clearly amused. “Okay, okay. I don’t need you two making a mess of my kitchen.”

You stepped back, giving Nancy a sheepish smile, and Logan chuckled, the sound low and easy. “She’s right,” he said, nodding toward the door. “Guess I’ll just keep an eye on you from a safe distance.”

Nancy gave him a knowing look, shaking her head with a chuckle. “If only it were that simple.”

---

“Ah, stay still, cara.” Nancy chided you, taking out a roller from your hair.

You gave Nancy a pout, eyes skimming your reflection in the mirror with clear discontent. "I don’t like it." Your voice held more weight than just the hair and makeup, though, and Nancy seemed to pick up on it.

She clicked her tongue, smoothing out a curl before looking at you through the mirror. “Ah, cara mia, tonight is important to your father. Besides,” she added, eyes glinting, “you look beautiful, yes?”

You gave her a half-hearted smile, brushing your hands over the bright yellow fabric of your dress. The dress was elegant and too formal for your taste, the kind of thing you’d never have chosen if it weren’t for your dad’s insistence on making you ‘presentable’ for his associates.

Nancy sighed, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Y/N, it’s one night. Then you’ll be back to your regular clothes, hmm?”

You grinned, rolling your eyes. “Can’t come soon enough.”

Just as you were about to add more, there was a quiet knock at the door. You looked up, already expecting Logan’s familiar silhouette. He leaned against the frame, hands in his pockets, his usual air of calm doing little to hide the intense look in his eyes as he took in the sight of you in the dress.

“Looks like they’ve got you all dolled up,” he remarked, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

You shot him a look, half annoyed, half amused. “Yeah, laugh it up, tough guy. Bet you’re glad it’s not you in this thing.”

Logan chuckled, stepping further into the room. “You could say that.” His eyes met yours, and for a brief second, there was something in his gaze, something you couldn’t quite put into words. But just as quickly, he looked away.

Nancy gave you a knowing smile, patting your shoulder before stepping back. “Logan,” she said, with a gentle warning in her voice, “take care of her tonight, yes?”

Logan’s expression softened, his gaze turning protective as he looked at you. “Always do.”

Nancy winked, then left the room, leaving you alone with him.

You let out a sigh, reaching for the hem of your dress as if you could somehow make it less constricting. “Do I really have to go down there?”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You think your dad’s throwing this party for fun? Whole point is for you to be seen.”

“Great,” you muttered, moving toward the door. But as you passed him, Logan placed a hand on your shoulder, stopping you.

“You’ll be fine,” he said, his voice lower, more reassuring. “They’re not expecting anything from you. Just show up, smile, let them know you exist.”

You looked up at him, searching his face. He was steady, calm, his expression soft in a way he rarely let others see. You didn’t know why, but having him there made you feel a little more at ease. “Guess I don’t have much choice, do I?”

“Nope,” he replied, his mouth twitching into that almost-smile.

With a resigned sigh, you squared your shoulders. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”

---

The party was everything you’d dreaded: formal, suffocating, and filled with people whose only interest in you was as your father’s daughter. You’d stuck close to Logan most of the night, exchanging quiet remarks whenever the chance arose, his presence the only thing keeping you from losing your mind. But as the night wore on, a few glasses of champagne and the tension of the evening started to wear on you.

You tugged on Logan’s sleeve as you leaned in close. “Think anyone would notice if I snuck out?” you murmured, your breath warm against his ear.

Logan chuckled low, his gaze flickering over you. “Considering your dad’s been watching you like a hawk? Probably.”

You rolled your eyes, letting your hand brush his arm. “Figures. He can’t just let me have one night off.” You shifted closer, feeling his warmth through his jacket, and gave him a mischievous smile. “Bet you didn’t sign up for babysitting duty.”

“Didn’t realize you’d need it,” he replied with a smirk, his voice barely loud enough for you to hear.

You nudged him playfully, letting your hand linger on his arm. “I don’t,” you said, a little more insistently. “You just don’t know what to do with me.”

His eyes met yours, and there was something dark and unspoken in his gaze. “Careful,” he murmured, his voice dropping. “I might take you up on that.”

The hint of challenge in his tone sent a thrill through you, and you leaned closer, your hand settling on his chest as you whispered, “Oh, I’m counting on it.”

You could feel his heartbeat, steady beneath your hand, but his expression gave nothing away. He looked down at you, his jaw tight, but his eyes held that familiar intensity, the kind that had always made you wonder just how long he’d been watching you. It was intoxicating, that pull between you, and tonight, with the champagne loosening your guard, you felt bolder than usual.

When you finally pulled away, you could feel his gaze following you, but you didn’t let yourself look back. Instead, you mingled through the crowd, smiling politely, pretending to listen to conversations while stealing glances at Logan across the room.

After what felt like hours, your father’s attention finally shifted, and you took the chance to slip away to your bedroom.

As you walked up the stairs, Logan trailed behind you, like always. You were tired of this, of the flirting, how he did it back to you, but how nothing ever happened.

Well tonight you were done with that.

You opened your bedroom door and sat on the bed, quickly slipping off your heels and tossing them carelessly across the room. The muffled sounds of laughter and clinking glasses filtered up from downstairs, where the party raged on. Logan stood in the doorway, as he always did, watching you in that silent, intense way that had been driving you crazy for months.

You looked up at him, your fingers playing with the hem of your short yellow dress, the fabric brushing against your thighs as you shifted on the bed. “You comin’ in, or are you just gonna stand there all night?”

Logan didn’t respond right away, his jaw ticking as his eyes flicked over you, taking in the sight of you sitting there, legs crossed, your dress riding up just enough to tease. He sighed, stepping into the room but staying near the door. “Your old man’s got half the city downstairs, Y/N. This ain’t the time.”

You raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at your lips. “Since when do you care about my dad? He’s not your boss.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, the leather of his jacket creaking. “He pays me to keep you safe, not… this.”

You stood up from the bed, taking a step toward him. “This?” you repeated, voice playful, but you could feel the tension in the air thickening. “And what is ‘this,’ Logan?”

He didn’t answer, just stood there, his eyes dark and unreadable, but you could see the way his body tensed when you got closer, the way his gaze flicked down to your legs before snapping back up to your face.

You reached out, your fingers brushing against the rough material of his flannel, and you could feel the heat of his body through the layers of fabric. He stiffened, his hand catching your wrist, but it wasn’t harsh. Just enough to stop you.

“Y/N, don’t,” he warned, his voice low, rough.

You tilted your head, stepping even closer until your body was almost pressed against his. “Why not?” you asked softly. “You’ve been following me around for months. Always there, always watching. What are you so afraid of?”

“I’m not afraid,” he muttered, but his grip on your wrist tightened just a little, like he was holding himself back. “You’re too young for this. I work for your dad.”

You pulled your wrist free, undeterred, your hand now resting against his chest. “I’m not a kid, Logan. And you don’t work for him—you work for me. You’ve been protecting me, haven’t you?”

His eyes narrowed. “That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

“Then what do you mean?” you shot back, moving even closer, your fingers trailing up to his shoulder, over the leather of his jacket. “You’ve been pulling away from me every time I get close, but you keep coming back.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, his hands hovering near your waist, as if he was afraid to touch you. “You’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk,” you said firmly, your voice steady. “And you know that.” You pressed a little harder, your lips just inches from his jaw, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his skin. “You don’t have to keep pretending like you don’t want this.”

His hands shot up to your shoulders, gripping you tightly, but he didn’t push you away this time. His breathing was heavier now, the muscles in his arms tensing as if he was fighting against himself. “You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he growled, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Maybe not,” you admitted, your lips brushing the stubble on his jaw as you spoke. “But I know what I want.”

Logan groaned low in his throat, his fingers tightening on your shoulders, but still, he didn’t push you away. His resistance was crumbling, you could feel it.

“You’re not a kid,” he repeated quietly, almost like he was trying to convince himself.

“No,” you whispered back, your lips ghosting along the side of his neck, your hands moving to his chest, fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt. “I’m not.”

In a swift movement, you pushed him back toward the chair in the corner of the room, his legs hitting the edge as you guided him down. He sat heavily, his hands falling from your shoulders to your hips, still trying to hold onto that last bit of control.

You straddled his thigh, your dress riding up as you settled against him, the heat of your body pressed against the denim of his jeans. His hands moved up to your waist, holding you in place, but the look in his eyes told you he was barely holding on.

“Y/N,” he rasped, but his voice was shaky, uncertain.

You didn’t give him time to think. You started moving, rocking your hips against his thigh, slow at first, testing. His grip on your waist tightened, his eyes darkening as he watched you, the tension in his body radiating through his hands.

He wasn’t stopping you.

You bit your lip, your breath hitching as you pressed harder against him, the friction sending a jolt of heat through you. Logan groaned, his hands sliding down to your hips, holding you steady as you moved. His control was slipping, and you could feel it.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his head falling back against the chair, his eyes squeezed shut.

You leaned forward, your lips brushing his ear. “Still think I’m too young?”

Logan’s jaw clenched, his hands gripping you harder as you rocked against him, the rough fabric of his jeans rubbing against the thin material of your underwear. Every movement sent sparks of pleasure through you, and you could tell from the way his breathing quickened that he was feeling it too.

His hands slid up your sides, fingers digging into your skin as he tried to pull you closer, but you were in control now. You pressed your lips to his neck, kissing the exposed skin, feeling the tension in his body as you kissed down toward his collarbone, your fingers tangling in his shirt.

Logan groaned, his hands gripping you tighter as you moved faster, grinding against his thigh with more urgency. The heat between your legs was almost unbearable now, the pressure building with every movement, every gasp that escaped your lips.

Logan's eyes were shut tight, head thrown back against the chair, his hands gripping your waist like he was the one trying to stay grounded. But you weren’t stopping, not after all the months of back-and-forth, all the moments you’d caught him watching you with that dark, unreadable look. The friction, the heat pooling between your legs, was everything you’d been waiting for, and it was clear from the roughness of his breathing that he wasn’t far behind.

You pressed harder, your hips rolling against his thigh as you gripped his shoulders to steady yourself. The thin fabric of your dress had ridden up, and you knew he could feel just how soaked you were through the denim of his jeans. His hands were at your waist, digging into your skin in a way that bordered on painful but only made you push down harder, rocking your hips with more insistence.

Logan’s voice was rough when he finally spoke, his hands tightening as if he was trying to keep himself from pulling you in closer. “Y/N… you’re playin’ with fire here,” he growled, the words thick, like he was barely holding back.

You ignored him, pressing a little harder, your lips hovering just over the edge of his jaw as you breathed, “Maybe I like the heat.”

His jaw clenched, but his hands slid up, settling just under your ribs, holding you steady as you moved. Each shift of your hips brought another groan out of him, the sound vibrating through his chest and sending a thrill straight through you. You could feel yourself getting closer, your breath coming in shallow gasps as the pressure built, the heat between your legs almost too much to bear.

“Logan,” you whispered, your hands slipping up to tangle in his hair, pulling his face closer. You could see the restraint etched across his face, the way his jaw was clenched tight, like he was struggling to keep himself from giving in. “I need you.”

His hands tensed on your waist, fingers digging in harder, his breathing growing rougher with every word that slipped from your lips. But he didn’t pull away; if anything, he held you tighter, letting you grind against him, the rough denim of his jeans rubbing against you in a way that left you breathless, desperate.

“You know what you’re doin’ to me?” he muttered, his voice barely more than a growl as his eyes met yours, dark and full of something you’d been longing to see for months.

“Maybe,” you replied, a small, breathless smile tugging at your lips as you kept moving, kept pressing closer, feeling the tension between you both thicken until it was almost unbearable. “Maybe I want to see how far you’ll let me go.”

Logan groaned, his grip tightening as his eyes fell shut again, his hands shifting to guide your hips, helping you keep up the steady rhythm that was driving you both closer to the edge. You leaned forward again, your lips brushing against his neck, pressing soft kisses along the exposed skin as you rocked against him, the heat building with every second.

“Y/N,” he rasped, his voice so low it sent a shiver through you. “You’re… you’re so damn—”

You cut him off, pressing your lips to the spot just under his ear, feeling the way his breath hitched as your hips ground down harder. You were close, every nerve ending on fire, and you could feel that he was, too. His hands were everywhere, sliding up your back, pressing you closer, holding you tight like he was afraid to let go.

And then, finally, the pressure broke. You gasped, fingers digging into his shoulders as your hips stilled, your body shuddering against him. Logan’s grip on your waist tightened, his own breath hitching as he held you steady, his hands warm and solid as you rode out the waves of pleasure.

He was quiet for a long moment, his breathing heavy, and you could feel the way his body had tensed beneath you, the strain in his hands as he held himself back. Slowly, you looked up, meeting his gaze, and the intensity in his eyes made your breath catch all over again.

Without a word, Logan shifted, his hands sliding down to hook under your thighs as he stood, lifting you with a strength that sent another thrill through you. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as he carried you to the bed, the heat in his gaze leaving no room for second thoughts, no hesitation. This was it, and you were ready.

He laid you down, his hands lingering on your thighs, his fingers brushing over your skin as he looked down at you, his expression a mix of hunger and restraint. You reached up, tugging him closer until he was hovering over you, his weight pressing down just enough to make you feel secure, safe.

This was what you’d been waiting for, what you’d both been skirting around for too long. Logan’s hands slid up your sides, his fingers trailing along the fabric of your dress, and you felt your breath hitch as his gaze darkened, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

His thumbs brushed the exposed skin just above the low neckline of your dress, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You watched him, eyes locked on his as he leaned in, his jaw tight, the hunger in his gaze barely restrained. The room felt smaller, warmer, like the air had thickened between you.

And then, finally, his mouth was on yours.

The kiss was desperate, wild, like he was making up for lost time. His lips claimed yours with a roughness that sent a shiver down your spine, his hands moving to cradle your face, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t stand the distance. You gasped against his mouth, your fingers finding their way into his hair, tugging him down harder.

It had been seventy-three years since he’d last kissed you—nearly three quarters of a century of holding back—and the intensity of it showed. It was all-consuming, like he was trying to make up for every second he’d denied himself this.

Logan groaned into your mouth, a deep, almost pained sound, and the desperation in it made your blood race. He kissed you like he was starving, like he needed this, needed you, and you felt your body melt into him. His hands slid down your body, rough and sure, stopping at your hips to pull you flush against him. The heat between your legs was almost unbearable, and the friction of his jeans against your thighs only made it worse.

You broke the kiss for air, your breaths coming fast, but Logan didn’t stop. His mouth found your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the curve of your throat, teeth scraping against your skin just enough to make you gasp. His hands were everywhere, tracing the curve of your waist, the swell of your hips, gripping you with a possessiveness that sent a thrill through you.

“Logan,” you whispered, your voice breathless, needy. You tilted your head back, giving him better access as his lips continued their descent, leaving a path of fire along your skin. Your hands fisted in his flannel, pulling him closer, and he groaned again, the sound vibrating through your body.

“God, Y/N,” he rasped, his voice thick with desire, like he was barely holding on. His hands slipped under your dress, fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of your thighs, and you shivered, your breath catching in your throat. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes heavy-lidded, pupils blown wide with need. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he muttered, but the words were laced with something softer, something that made your heart skip.

You didn’t reply, just pulled him down for another kiss, this one just as desperate as the first. Your hands roamed over his chest, slipping beneath the open flannel to feel the heat of his skin, the hard muscles that tensed under your touch. Logan shivered, his breath catching as your fingers brushed against his bare chest, and you felt a rush of satisfaction at the way he reacted to you.

His jacket slipped from his shoulders, landing somewhere on the floor, but neither of you paid it any mind. Your hands were already pushing the flannel off him, revealing more of his skin, and Logan helped you, shrugging it off with a growl of impatience. The white beater he wore beneath clung to his chest, and you could see the way his muscles flexed beneath it, the way the fabric stretched taut over his shoulders.

He leaned back down, capturing your lips in another searing kiss, and you moaned into his mouth, your nails digging into his shoulders. Logan’s hands were back under your dress, sliding up, leaving trails of heat in their wake. His touch was rough, calloused, but so incredibly gentle in a way that made your heart ache. You arched into him, your body pressing closer, desperate for more, for everything he was willing to give.

“Fuck,” he muttered against your mouth, his hands sliding higher until his thumbs brushed the edge of your panties. He paused, breathing heavily, his eyes searching yours, looking for any sign of hesitation. But there was none. You were all in, had been from the moment you’d first seen him.

You reached down, grabbing his wrists and guiding his hands further up, silently urging him on. Logan’s breath hitched, and his eyes darkened even more, a low growl rumbling in his chest. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, and you could feel your heart pounding as he tugged, the thin fabric slipping down your legs.

"Fuck, Y/N," he growled, his voice thick with need as his calloused hands slid back up your thighs, pushing your dress higher. "You're so damn wet already."

You gasped as his fingers brushed against your center, your hips jerking up instinctively. "Logan, please," you whimpered, reaching for him.

He leaned down to kiss you hard, his tongue pushing into your mouth as his fingers began exploring you properly. The roughness of his hands contrasted with how gently he touched you, like he was afraid of breaking you. You moaned into his mouth as he slid one thick finger inside, your hands gripping his shoulders.

"That's it, darlin'," he murmured against your lips. "Let me hear you."

Your dress was bunched around your waist now as Logan worked another finger into you, stretching you carefully. Your earlier orgasm had left you sensitive, making every touch feel electric. His thumb found your clit and began rubbing slow circles that had you writhing beneath him.

"Logan," you gasped, your nails digging into his skin through his beater. "I need—ah!—I need more."

He growled low in his throat, curling his fingers inside you. "Tell me what you need, Y/N. Say it."

Your face flushed but you met his eyes. "I need you inside me. Please, Logan. I've wanted this for so long."

Something dark and possessive flashed in his eyes. He withdrew his fingers, making you whimper at the loss, and reached down to undo his belt. The metal clinked as he pulled it free, the sound sending a thrill through you.

You sat up enough to pull your dress over your head, leaving you in just your bra. Logan's eyes raked over you hungrily as he pushed his jeans down his hips. The obvious bulge in his boxers made your mouth go dry.

"Come here," he growled, pulling you into another searing kiss as his hands found the clasp of your bra. It took him only seconds to undo it, and then you were bare before him, your nipples hardening in the cool air.

Logan's mouth moved to your neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks as his hands cupped your breasts. You moaned as he rolled your nipples between his fingers, your back arching into his touch.

"Fuck, you're perfect," he muttered against your skin, his voice rough. He shifted to take one nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak as you gasped and squirmed beneath him.

Your hands found the hem of his beater, tugging insistently until he pulled back long enough to yank it off. The sight of his bare chest, all hard muscle and dark hair, made heat pool between your legs. There were old scars scattered across his skin - remnants of wounds time hadn't quite erased.

You reached for his boxers but he caught your wrists, pinning them above your head with one large hand. "Not yet," he growled, his free hand sliding down between your legs again. "Want to make sure you're ready for me."

His fingers found your clit again and you cried out, oversensitive and desperate. "Logan, please," you begged, trying to buck your hips up against his hand. "I'm ready, I swear. I need you now."

He studied your face for a long moment, his eyes dark with desire, before releasing your wrists. "Take them off," he ordered, nodding to his boxers.

Your hands shook slightly as you pushed the fabric down his hips, freeing his cock. He was huge, thick and hard, already leaking at the tip. You wrapped your hand around him, stroking slowly, and Logan's breath hitched.

"Careful, darlin'," he warned, his voice strained. "Been wanting this too long to end it early."

He pushed you back onto the bed, settling between your spread thighs. The head of his cock brushed against your entrance and you both groaned. Logan braced himself on his forearms above you, his eyes locked on yours.

"You sure about this?" he asked, his voice rough but gentle. "Once I start, I don't know if I'll be able to stop."

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "I'm sure. Please, Logan. I want you."

He kissed you hard as he began pushing inside, swallowing your gasps as he stretched you open. The burn was intense but perfect, your body gradually adjusting to his size. Logan moved slowly, giving you time to adapt, but you could feel the tension in his muscles as he held himself back.

"Fuck," he groaned when he was finally fully seated inside you. "So tight, darlin'. Feel so good around me."

You clutched at his shoulders, panting. "Move," you urged. "Please, I need—"

Logan pulled back and thrust forward again, setting a steady rhythm that had you seeing stars. Each stroke hit something deep inside you that made pleasure spark through your whole body. His hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he fucked into you with increasing force.

"That's it," he growled, watching your face contort with pleasure. "Take it, Y/N. Take all of me."

Your nails raked down his back as the pressure built inside you again. Logan's thrusts grew harder, faster, driving you both toward the edge. The headboard banged against the wall with each movement but neither of you cared about the noise.

"Logan," you gasped, feeling yourself getting close. "I'm gonna—ah!"

"Come for me," he ordered, his voice rough. One hand slid between your bodies to rub your clit. "Want to feel you come on my cock."

The added stimulation pushed you over the edge. You came with a cry, your body clenching around him as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Logan growled, his rhythm faltering as your walls pulsed around him.

"Fuck, Y/N," he groaned, his thrusts growing erratic. "Where do you want—"

"Inside," you gasped, still riding the aftershocks. "Please, Logan. Wanna feel you."

He cursed, his hips snapping forward a few more times before he buried himself deep with a growl, spilling inside you. You could feel him pulsing, filling you up as he collapsed onto his forearms above you.

For several long moments, the only sound was your heavy breathing. Logan's forehead rested against yours, his eyes closed as he caught his breath. You ran your hands up and down his back, feeling the sweat-slick skin under your palms.

Finally, he pulled out carefully and rolled onto his side, pulling you with him. You winced slightly at the soreness between your legs, but it was a good kind of ache. Logan's arms wrapped around you, holding you close against his chest.

---

Logan let out a low groan as he woke, the bed beneath him feeling far too comfortable, unfamiliar in a way that immediately set him on edge. It took a second for his mind to catch up, piecing together where he was and, more importantly, who he was with.

He didn’t need to look over to feel the warmth beside him, or the way your hair fanned out across the pillow. It hit him all at once—the heat of your skin against his, the way you’d leaned into him last night, confident, unrestrained. He opened his eyes, gaze finding you lying beside him, face soft and peaceful in sleep, an arm draped over his chest as if you’d claimed him in the night.

Logan sighed, glancing at the ceiling, but couldn’t help looking down at you again, still asleep and blissfully unaware of the storm in his head. He’d known it was a bad idea from the start, coming upstairs with you last night, letting his guard down. But damn, when you’d gotten close, pushing him toward that chair with that look in your eyes—he’d been gone the second you’d touched him.

He was even further gone when he had finally kissed you—it was one of his biggest regrets the last time he had seen you back in 1943—he never held you the way he wanted to. Too afraid that maybe he was the problem, the reason you kept on dying over and over.

And because of that, he hadn’t been this close to you since 1900.

It was strange, being here like this—letting his guard down after all those lives, all those memories of watching you fade out of his reach. A part of him had always tried to keep a distance, to save himself from the heartbreak he knew was coming. But last night… last night, he’d been weak.

He brushed a thumb over your arm without thinking, lost in thought. It was impossible not to wonder, with you lying beside him like this, what it would be like if this time were different. If, just once, he could hold onto you, let himself believe you’d stay.

But he knew better.

His hand lingered on your skin a moment too long, and he felt you stir, your lashes fluttering as you slowly opened your eyes. A soft smile touched your lips when you saw him, and he felt his resolve crack just a little more.

“Mornin’,” he murmured, his voice rougher than he’d meant.

“Mmm,” you hummed, still sleepy, your fingers tracing a lazy pattern over his chest. “Didn’t think you’d still be here.” You said it lightly, but there was a hint of something else there—relief, maybe. “Guess I finally wore you out.”

Logan huffed, his lips tugging into a smirk. “Guess so.”

You shifted to look at him, your eyes bright with that familiar mischief. “So, what’s your excuse this time?”

He raised a brow. “Excuse?”

“Yeah. For pulling away,” you said, your tone casual but pointed. “You’ve always got one.”

Logan’s jaw clenched slightly, and he broke eye contact, looking away. “It’s complicated, Y/N.”

You reached up, cupping his face and guiding his gaze back to you. “That’s what you always say. Doesn’t mean it has to be.”

He was silent for a moment, searching your face. He could feel the weight of his past with you, all those memories stacking up like a dam holding back a flood. But he couldn’t let you in on that. Couldn’t make you carry the burden of knowing you’d lived—and died—so many times before. It was his cross to bear, not yours.

“Maybe I just don’t want you getting hurt,” he finally said, his voice quieter, a touch raw.

You let out a short, incredulous laugh. “Please, Logan. You think I don’t know what I’m doing?”

Logan just shook his head, but he couldn’t help the small, amused smile that crept onto his face. “You’re a handful, you know that?”

“I’ve heard that once or twice,” you teased, running your hand along his chest. “Lucky for you, I don’t scare easy.”

That hint of defiance in your voice tugged at something deep inside him, and he caught your hand, holding it in his as he looked into your eyes. “You say that now. But I’ve got a way of… complicating things.”

Your gaze softened, but there was still a spark there, unyielding. “Good thing I like complicated.”

Logan’s eyes darkened, and for a second, he felt that familiar pull, the urge to tell you everything—to let you in on the truth of why he was here, why he couldn’t stay away. But he stopped himself, the weight of all those lost lifetimes bearing down on him again. He couldn’t do that to you, not this time.

“Then I guess I’m stuck with you,” he said, trying to keep his tone light, even though his grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly.

“Guess so,” you replied with a grin, shifting closer. You tilted your head, eyes narrowing as you studied him. “Logan?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you ever gonna stop acting like you’re some kind of curse?” Your voice was soft but firm, like you were daring him to argue.

Logan went silent, his gaze flickering away from yours. You’d hit closer to the truth than you knew.

“Don’t know if I can,” he admitted after a pause. “It’s… complicated.” He shrugged, hoping you’d leave it at that.

But, of course, you didn’t. “Then I guess I’ll just have to keep proving you wrong,” you murmured, pressing a light kiss to his jaw, a warm reassurance that only made him feel the pull of his past even stronger.

He didn’t answer, just closed his eyes, letting himself savor this one small, stolen moment with you. Just this once, he’d allow himself that. Because deep down, he knew he’d always lose you in the end.

And this time, he was determined to make it last as long as he could. Maybe, just maybe, even put that ring to use.

---

You were back at the dog shelter, this time staying a little bit longer since one of the workers, Amelia, was out sick.

Lorraine handed you a few leashes, “mind taking some of ‘em out for a walk?”

You happily grabbed the roped leashes, “of course.” Then you glanced over at Logan, who had been eyeing the dogs with a mix of amusement and reservation. “You up for walkin’ some too?”

He raised an eyebrow at you, then at the leashes in your hand, but there was a hint of a smirk playing at his lips. “Didn’t take you for a dog wrangler, Y/N.”

You laughed, clipping one of the leashes onto a small brown mutt who was practically bouncing with excitement. “Come on, Logan. What’re you afraid of? They don’t bite—well, not all of them, anyway.”

Logan chuckled, reluctantly stepping forward. “Right. Long as they don’t try to drag me down the street.”

You handed him a leash attached to a shaggy, medium-sized dog with big brown eyes, looking up at him expectantly. “Here. This one’s named Ringo. He’s a sweetheart.”

Logan eyed the dog suspiciously before giving the leash a little tug, testing the waters. “Ringo, huh?” He knelt down and patted the dog’s head, a faint smile crossing his face as the dog leaned into his touch. “Guess you’re alright.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight. “See? He likes you already.” As you finished leashing up a few more of the dogs, you handed the leashes to Logan. “Think you can handle these guys too?”

Logan took the leashes without complaint, looking down at the little group of dogs at his feet. “Guess I don’t have much choice.”

“Good answer,” you teased, giving him a wink before heading toward the door. You led the way outside, the two of you walking side-by-side with the dogs trotting happily along. It was a warm day, and the sun was shining down, casting a soft glow over everything.

Logan glanced over at you as you moved down the sidewalk together, the dogs tugging excitedly at their leashes. You had a carefree smile on your face, and he found himself watching you more than the path ahead, the memory of a few nights ago still vivid in his mind. The thought of it sent a thrill through him—yet at the same time, a pang of dread.

“You always this happy walking dogs, or is it just ‘cause I’m here?” he teased, a little smirk tugging at his lips.

You shot him a playful look. “Guess you’ll never know.” You nudged him lightly with your shoulder, eyes bright with mischief. “But if you keep coming with me, you might find out.”

He let out a small laugh, his gaze softening as he looked away. Even after all these years, you could still surprise him—like the way you’d drag him to places like this or the way you talked about the little things with such enthusiasm. It was one of those qualities he remembered about you from lifetimes ago, and it hadn’t changed. It made him feel like maybe, somehow, this was different.

As you walked a little further, one of the dogs—a scruffy little terrier—yipped and tugged at Logan’s leash, trying to chase after a pigeon. He grunted, holding the leash tightly and muttering, “Settle down, mutt. You’re not goin’ anywhere.”

You laughed, glancing over with an amused smile. “Ringo’s got more energy than you’d think, huh?”

Logan shook his head, but he couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, well, maybe I should be takin’ notes from him.” He looked at you then, and his expression softened. “You’ve really got a thing for these dogs, don’t ya?”

Your smile faded into something more thoughtful as you looked down at the furry pack in front of you. “I dunno. I guess they’re just… easy to be around. They don’t care about who my father is or what I do—they just want someone to be with them, you know?”

Logan nodded, watching the way you interacted with the dogs, your fingers lightly brushing over their heads, your voice soft as you spoke to them. You’d always had that kindness about you, that gentleness that made him want to believe in something better, something… safe.

“You’re good with ‘em,” he said quietly, almost to himself.

You looked up at him, a smile in your eyes. “You know, you’re not so bad with them either, Logan.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Nah, I think I’ll leave the dog-wranglin’ to you.”

For a while, you walked in comfortable silence, the bustling city around you fading into the background as you wandered through the neighborhood with the dogs. Finally, you reached a small park, and you stopped to let the dogs sniff around.

As they explored, you took a seat on a nearby bench, patting the spot beside you. Logan hesitated for a second before joining you, stretching his legs out in front of him.

You looked over at him, your expression soft. “Thanks for coming today. I know this probably isn’t your ideal way to spend an afternoon.”

Logan shrugged, trying to act casual, but he couldn’t hide the warmth in his gaze. “Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t wanna be,” he said, his voice low.

The sincerity in his words made your heart skip a beat, and you looked away, feeling a little bashful. You fiddled with one of the leashes, clearing your throat. “You know… the more time we spend together, the more I wonder how long you’re planning to stick around.”

He hesitated, his jaw tightening as he considered his answer. He wanted to tell you the truth—that he’d been watching you, waiting for you, for so many lifetimes. But he couldn’t. Instead, he reached out, his hand covering yours where it rested on the bench.

“As long as you’ll have me,” he said quietly.

The words hung between you, and for a moment, it was like the whole world had faded away. You looked up at him, your eyes searching his, trying to read the depths of his expression.

A soft smile touched your lips, and you squeezed his hand. “Then you’re gonna be around for a long time, Logan.”

He felt a strange, hopeful ache in his chest at your words, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to believe that maybe, this time, things could be different.

The dogs barked, breaking the spell, and you both laughed, pulling away as you got up to wrangle them again. But even as you continued on your walk, he stayed close by your side, his hand occasionally brushing yours as you walked—almost as if he was reminding himself that you were real, that you were here with him.

---

Late one night, you lay beside Logan in the dim light filtering through the window, the city’s night sounds a steady hum in the distance. Your head rested on his chest, your fingers tracing lazy circles over the skin above his heart, feeling the steady beat beneath your touch.

Logan shifted slightly, his hand coming up to rest gently on your back. For a long time, he just lay there, watching you in silence, his thumb brushing along your spine. You could tell he was relaxed, but there was something else—a quiet intensity in the way his gaze lingered on you, a heaviness in the air that made your heart race.

“What’re you thinkin’ about?” you murmured, letting your fingers trail up to his collarbone. You glanced up at him, catching the faintest hint of a smile as he met your eyes.

“Just… wonderin’ how I got roped into all this,” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting. But the glint in his eyes gave him away, and you saw something softer there.

“Yeah? Doesn’t seem like you mind too much.” You smirked, giving his chest a light pat. “I’d almost say you’re gettin’ attached.”

He snorted, pulling you a little closer, his arm tightening around you. “Could say the same for you,” he replied, his voice low, almost teasing. “You’re insatiable, y’know that?”

You laughed, and the sound was soft in the quiet room. “You’re the one who keeps showin’ up, Logan. If you wanted me to behave, you’d stay away.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Maybe I don’t want you to behave.”

Your fingers stilled on his chest, and you looked up at him with a mischievous glint in your eye. “So you like me like this, then? A little reckless… a little spoiled?” you teased.

He chuckled, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “Yeah,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “Think I do.”

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words, and you settled back against his chest, letting your hand rest over his heart. For a while, neither of you said anything, the silence comfortable, his warmth grounding you. It was a rare kind of peace—one that you’d come to cherish whenever you were with him.

But then, curiosity got the better of you, and you lifted your head, giving him a thoughtful look. “Logan,” you began, your voice hesitant. “How long are you gonna stick around? I mean… I know my dad thinks you’re just here for protection, but… it feels like more than that.”

Logan’s gaze darkened, a flash of something unreadable passing over his face. He glanced away, his jaw tensing as he seemed to search for the right words. “As long as you want me here, I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

The weight of his words hung between you, and you felt your heart skip a beat. “Then don’t,” you whispered, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “I don’t want you to.”

He didn’t say anything in response, but his hand slipped up to cup the back of your head, pulling you down into a slow, lingering kiss. There was something different about it this time, a quiet desperation that made your pulse quicken, like he was trying to hold on to this moment, to keep it from slipping away.

When you finally pulled back, you searched his eyes, wondering what was going through his mind. “You’re not gonna let me go, are you?”

A small smile tugged at his lips, though his gaze was still shadowed. “Not a chance, darlin’.”

You felt a surge of affection for him then, this man who’d somehow become both your protector and your closest confidant. He was rough around the edges, guarded and distant with everyone else—but with you, he was different. You brought out a softness in him, a warmth that felt as though it had been buried for a long, long time.

Without thinking, you reached up and brushed a lock of hair from his forehead, your fingertips lingering against his skin. “You know, for a guy who’s supposed to be my bodyguard, you’re doing a terrible job at keeping things professional,” you teased, though there was no bite in your words.

Logan let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “You’re the one makin’ things complicated, Y/N.”

“Maybe.” You smirked, your fingers still tracing over his chest. “But you don’t seem to mind.”

He looked at you then, something fierce in his eyes, and for a moment, you saw a glimpse of the man he’d been—a man who’d loved and lost, who’d carried scars from lifetimes past. You wondered if he would ever tell you his story, if he would ever let you in on the secrets he guarded so closely.

But for now, you were content with the silence, with the feel of his heartbeat beneath your hand, with the quiet reassurance that he wasn’t going anywhere.

As the night wore on, you lay there together, wrapped up in each other, the world outside fading away. And for the first time in a long time, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

---

Your father had asked you to come to his office in the spacious house. At first it was nothing but muffled voices from outside the door, until Logan heard your father speak again, for a longer period of time, causing your own voice to rise.

While Logan couldn’t make out the words you were saying even with his enhanced hearing, he could tell you weren’t happy. Your voice carried that sharp edge you only got when something really struck a nerve, and judging by the way you didn’t hold back, it had to be serious.

Logan lingered just outside the heavy, mahogany door of your father’s office, his fists clenched as he heard your voice rising behind it. It was clear you were upset, and whatever was being discussed inside, you didn’t like it. He’d seen you frustrated, angry even, but never like this—there was a desperation in your tone that sent a chill through him.

Moments later, the door flew open, and you stormed out, cheeks flushed with anger, eyes flashing as you spotted him. You barely paused, brushing past him, but Logan caught your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice low. “What happened?”

You turned to face him, anger and hurt swirling in your eyes. “He’s… he’s marrying me off, Logan. To that family. After everything he promised me—he said he’d never force me into something like this.”

Logan’s expression hardened. “What are you talkin’ about? He can’t just… marry you off like some kind of deal.”

Your hands were shaking as you brushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear, struggling to keep your composure. “Apparently, he can. There’s been this feud with the Romano family for years, and he says this is the only way to keep the peace. To protect me. Protect us.”

Logan’s jaw clenched. He felt a familiar anger rising in him, a deep, protective instinct he’d been fighting to keep under wraps. “So, he’s just gonna throw you into a marriage you don’t want? You don’t even know this guy, do you?”

You shook your head, looking away. “I met him once. He was… polite enough. But that’s not the point, Logan. I don’t want to marry him—or anyone like this. My father always said he’d let me choose, that he wouldn’t… sell me off.” The bitterness in your tone stung, your gaze distant as if replaying the conversation.

Logan searched your face, feeling an ache he couldn’t put into words. “And he knows how you feel about this?”

You swallowed, nodding. “I told him, but he says I don’t understand the bigger picture, that this is what’s best for everyone.” You gave a hollow laugh, looking down. “For everyone but me.”

He felt a pang of guilt, knowing he was just a bodyguard, technically part of the arrangement meant to keep you safe from any threats. But you were more than just a job to him, and the thought of you being forced into something like this made his blood boil. He let out a rough breath, stepping closer. “Y/N, you don’t have to go along with this. Not if you don’t want to.”

Your gaze softened as you looked up at him. “And what am I supposed to do, Logan? Run off in the middle of the night?” You gave a small, bitter smile. “I don’t even know where I’d go.”

He didn’t hesitate, his voice dropping low. “Then we go together. If you don’t wanna go through with this, we’ll figure somethin’ else out.”

Your breath hitched at his words, and for a moment, the anger and hurt seemed to fade, replaced by something warmer, more uncertain. “You’d really… leave everything?”

He shrugged, almost nonchalant, but there was a fierce determination in his eyes. “I got no reason to stay here if you’re not here, too.”

You hesitated, torn between the depth of his offer and the weight of the decision you knew would follow. Finally, you gave a small nod, as if grounding yourself in the moment. “I don’t know what’s gonna happen, Logan, but… I just need to know you’re here. That I’m not going through this alone.”

He reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering. “I’m not goin’ anywhere, Y/N. You got my word on that.”

There was a silence between you, thick and charged, each of you processing the weight of everything unsaid. His gaze stayed locked on yours, and for a moment, the anger and fear in your eyes softened, replaced by something closer to relief. And then, almost impulsively, you took his hand, squeezing it tight.

“Thank you, Logan. I… I needed to hear that,” you said softly, glancing away before meeting his gaze again, vulnerability written all over your face. “Just… don’t let go, okay?”

He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, his voice barely above a whisper. “Not a chance, darlin’.”

---

Nancy was doing your hair once again for the dinner with the Romano family. You had tried everything over the past few weeks, trying to convince your father that this didn’t have to happen. That he promised you he would never do this.

But no matter what you did, he was firm in his stance, "you're getting married to Clyde, and that's final."

You sat still, staring at your reflection in the mirror as Nancy pinned up the last of your curls. Your face looked composed, serene even, but beneath it, there was a storm brewing—a knot of anger and dread you couldn’t shake. Every time you thought about that dinner tonight, your stomach twisted. Clyde Romano. A stranger. And yet, your father had decided this was your future, and nothing you said seemed to change his mind.

Nancy, sensing the tension, placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "It’ll be alright, Y/N. You’ll be surrounded by family."

Family. Right. But none of them seemed to understand how trapped you felt. You forced a tight-lipped smile, nodding. "Thanks, Nancy."

As she stepped back, there was a light knock at the door. You turned to see Logan standing there, looking slightly uncomfortable in his formal attire but as steadfast as ever. His gaze softened as he took in your appearance, though he quickly masked it.

"Didn’t mean to interrupt," he said, glancing between you and Nancy. "Just wanted to make sure you’re ready."

Nancy finished adjusting your hair and excused herself, leaving you alone with Logan. You looked at him, searching his face, hoping for some kind of lifeline.

"Logan," you murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "I feel like I’m being dragged somewhere I can’t escape from."

He stepped closer, his expression darkening as he listened. “You’re not alone in this, Y/N. You know I’m with you, whatever you decide.” His hand reached out, brushing against your arm, his touch grounding you.

You drew in a shaky breath, steadying yourself. “What if I decide to just… disappear?” you asked, half-joking but mostly serious.

Logan’s eyes met yours, and you saw the unspoken resolve there. “Then I’ll be right behind you. Doesn’t matter where.”

For a moment, you let yourself believe it—that you could simply run, with Logan at your side. But reality crashed back in, and you dropped your gaze.

"I wish it were that simple," you whispered, clenching your fists. "But if I leave, it could tear everything apart."

Logan’s hand settled over yours, his grip firm and reassuring. "Then we make it through tonight. And tomorrow, we figure out the rest. You’re not facing this alone, darlin’. Not as long as I’m here."

You looked up at him, finding strength in his gaze. He’d been your rock through all of this, his presence steady and unwavering. And tonight, that was what you needed most.

“Alright,” you murmured, giving him a small, grateful smile. “Let’s go face this… together.”

He nodded, his grip on your hand a silent promise. Whatever came next, you knew he’d be there, just as he always had been. And with that thought, you found the courage to head downstairs to face your family—and the Romanos—one more time.

---

The dinner was at an Italian restaurant, one your father owned as cover for his business. Your dad sat at the head of the table while Clyde’s father sat at the other end. In front of you was your uncle Ermanno, who was also your dad’s consigliere, while Clyde sat next to you.

Logan, along with the other bodyguards, stood watch at the entrance of the private dining room, their silent gazes sweeping the place. He wore his usual hard expression, though his eyes softened just a touch when they found you across the room. He’d been watching you all night—catching every little shift, each moment you looked down or forced a smile, every subtle tightening of your hand on the tablecloth.

Clyde Romano leaned in a little closer, his arm casually brushing against yours as he tried to make small talk. "So, Y/N, I hear you’ve been helping out at a shelter?"

You nodded, barely meeting his eyes. “Yeah, I volunteer with the dogs mostly. It’s…nice to get away from all this sometimes.” You forced a smile, trying to keep things polite. You could feel your father’s gaze on you, watching for any misstep.

Clyde smiled back, but it felt too rehearsed. “Well, once we’re married, you won’t have to worry about shelters or anything like that. You’ll have enough responsibilities as a Romano.”

You felt your stomach twist at his words. Logan’s gaze sharpened from across the room as he picked up on the slight shift in your expression. You shot him a quick look, your eyes pleading for any kind of rescue. Logan’s jaw tightened, and for a brief moment, he almost looked like he’d step in. But he stayed put, his hands clenched behind his back.

Instead, he looked for the smallest opening. Just as Clyde’s attention was pulled away by his father, Logan slipped into view, leaning down beside you. “You alright?” he murmured, low enough that only you could hear.

“Not even close,” you whispered back, your eyes fixed on your glass. “He’s already talking about our future like… like it’s set in stone.”

Logan’s eyes flickered with something fierce. “We’ll get through this, Y/N. Tonight’s just another show. Nothing more.” His fingers brushed the back of your chair, the barely-there touch sending a wave of calm through you.

But Clyde’s voice cut back in before Logan could say anything more. “Y/N, we were thinking of heading to Italy for the honeymoon. It’ll be a good chance to meet the rest of the family there.”

Your heart sank further. Italy. An entire ocean away, away from everything you knew, from everyone who mattered to you. “Italy,” you echoed, your voice strained but steady.

“Yeah. The Romano estates are beautiful—beaches, vineyards… a real paradise.” He seemed oblivious to your hesitation, already dreaming up plans you’d had no say in. Your father looked pleased, nodding his approval from his end of the table.

Logan straightened, but the look he gave you was unmistakable: You don’t have to do this.

You swallowed, shifting in your seat as Clyde rambled on. When his focus shifted to his own father again, you leaned back just enough to whisper to Logan, “I’m not sure I can keep pretending.”

Logan’s expression softened, and for a second, he let a hint of his guard down. “You don’t have to, darlin’.” His voice was low, almost tender, meant for you alone. “Say the word, and we walk outta here. Right now.”

The thought made your heart skip, but your gaze drifted toward your father, seated across the table with a look of satisfaction. Leaving wasn’t just about you; it would mean defying him, challenging the life he’d molded for you. The thought felt like a mountain on your shoulders.

“I can’t just walk away,” you said quietly. “He’s… he’d never forgive me.”

Logan’s hand brushed yours under the table, a quiet show of support. “Maybe he’s the one who should be asking for forgiveness,” he murmured, his thumb tracing a light circle over your knuckles. The warmth of his touch settled something in you, steadying your breath.

You gave a tiny nod, squeezing his hand for just a second before pulling away. Logan straightened, stepping back to his post but still keeping his gaze on you. Clyde was oblivious, caught up in a conversation with his father about future business plans, each word feeling like a nail in the coffin.

Dinner dragged on, a blur of forced laughter and stiff conversation. Every time you felt yourself sinking, you looked toward Logan. He was there, solid and watchful, like a silent promise of something real in a room full of facades.

Eventually, the families began to wind down, talk shifting to more casual chatter. Clyde, emboldened by the night’s success, reached over and took your hand, his grip possessive. “Soon, you’ll be part of the family, Y/N. You’ll see. You’ll come to love it.”

Your mind screamed at the thought, every fiber of you wanting to pull away. But you held still, not daring to make a scene. Logan’s gaze narrowed, his jaw set as he took in the sight of Clyde’s hand around yours.

Finally, as the night came to an end and the families started to stand, Clyde leaned in with a smug smile. “Ready to go? I thought we’d take a walk, just the two of us.”

Before you could answer, Logan was there, stepping in with a casual yet firm presence. “Mr. Romano,” he said, addressing Clyde but looking right at you, “your father asked to speak with you in private before you head out.”

Clyde frowned but nodded, reluctantly releasing your hand. “I’ll be back soon, Y/N.” He disappeared toward the far end of the room, leaving you alone with Logan.

You let out a slow breath, the tension finally loosening from your shoulders. “Thank you,” you whispered, looking up at him, gratitude spilling from every word.

Logan gave a slight nod. “Couldn’t let him drag you out there without a say.” His voice was rough, but his eyes softened as he held your gaze. “You’re not alone in this, Y/N. Whatever happens… you got me.”

The weight of the night lifted just a little, and for a moment, you almost believed you had a choice in all of this.

---

“A week?” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper as you stood in your father’s office. The weight of the word seemed to pull you under, even as you fought to keep your voice steady.

Your father’s expression was impassive, arms crossed as he looked at you. “Yes, Y/N. The Romano family wants to move quickly. They think it’s best, and I agree. It’s time you take on this responsibility for the family.”

Your jaw clenched. You remembered the promises he made, back when you were younger, that he’d never force you into something like this. “I just… I don’t understand. You always said—”

“People change, Y/N,” he interrupted, his tone firm. “This is what’s best for you and for us. For the family.”

You shook your head, feeling a rush of helplessness. “And what about what I want? I’ve been trying to tell you for weeks that I don’t want this, and you’re not listening.”

He exhaled sharply, the kind of sigh that signaled his patience was running thin. “This isn’t about what you want. I didn’t raise you to be selfish.”

“Selfish?” The word stung, and you couldn’t help the surge of anger that rose within you. “I’m asking for my life. How is that selfish?”

He frowned, unyielding. “Enough, Y/N. This is happening. We’re done discussing it.”

Your breath hitched, but you forced yourself to stay composed. The walls of the office seemed to close in on you, the reality of it settling heavy and cold. You had a week—seven days—to either submit to this life he’d chosen for you or… what? You didn’t even know.

Without another word, you turned and left, fighting the urge to slam the door behind you. The hall felt stifling as you walked out, your thoughts churning.

When you reached your room, Logan was there, waiting. The moment he saw your face, he stiffened. “What happened?” His voice was a low rumble, the concern clear.

“A week,” you whispered, barely able to meet his gaze. “I have a week before he marries me off to Clyde.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, and you could see the flash of anger in his eyes. He stepped closer, his hand moving to rest on your shoulder. “So that’s it, then? He’s just… throwing you to that bastard?”

You nodded, the words catching in your throat. “I don’t know what to do, Logan. I tried everything, but he won’t listen. He’s set on it.”

Logan’s hand slipped down, finding yours and giving it a reassuring squeeze, his rough fingers warm and grounding. You tightened your grip, the frustration and helplessness boiling inside you finally having somewhere to go.

“I’m supposed to just go along with it,” you muttered, bitterness seeping into your words. “Act like I’m thrilled to be Clyde’s obedient little wife. Like my life’s just… his to take.”

Logan’s gaze darkened. “It’s not. You know that. And anyone who tries to take it without your say? They got me to deal with.” His voice was low and dangerous, a promise just for you.

You looked up, searching his face, a flicker of hope stirring. “But what can we do, Logan? He’s not going to listen to me. And if I push back too hard… I don’t know what he’ll do.”

“Then let me get you out of here,” Logan said, leaning in closer. His voice softened, gentler now. “We can leave, right now if you want. Just say the word.”

Your heart twisted painfully, the temptation so fierce you almost said yes then and there. But reality clawed its way back, the weight of your father’s expectations and the tight grip he kept on every part of your life. Leaving would mean giving up everything—and, deep down, you weren’t sure you could risk it.

“What about my dad?” you whispered, feeling the weight of it pressing down again. “He’s… he’d see it as betrayal, Logan. And what if he goes after you?”

A flicker of something familiar crossed Logan’s face, a shadow from a life you couldn’t remember but that he clearly did. “Y/N, don’t worry about me,” he murmured. “Been through worse.” He squeezed your hand a little tighter, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a gesture so tender it nearly undid you. “And if he’s got a problem, then he can take it up with me.”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling the anger and fear give way just a bit. “You say that now, but you haven’t seen how he gets when people cross him. He’d never forgive me, Logan. He’d never forgive us.”

Logan’s hand moved to cup your face, his touch steadying you as his eyes met yours. “Then we don’t need his forgiveness. We get you out, and I keep you safe. Whatever comes after, we face it together.”

The fierce certainty in his voice sent a warmth flooding through you, your resolve hardening under his gaze. “But Clyde, the Romano’s… they won’t just let it go.”

A smirk tugged at Logan’s mouth, the edge of defiance clear. “Then they’ll learn what happens when they mess with you. Ain’t nobody’s right to take away your freedom, Y/N. Not your old man, not Clyde, not anyone.”

A beat of silence stretched between you, his hand still warm against your cheek. Your fingers tightened around his, and for a second, all the anger and dread faded, leaving just you and him in the quiet of the room.

“What about… us?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, and for a second, you held your breath, waiting for his reaction.

Logan’s eyes softened, his gaze never leaving yours. “What about us, darlin’?” He brushed a thumb along your cheek, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “You think I’d just leave you here to face this on your own?”

His words sent a rush of warmth through you, and before you knew it, you were leaning into him, his presence steady and unshakable. He let out a low sigh, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer, his other hand tracing gentle circles over your back.

“You’re all I’ve got in this,” you whispered, feeling the tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “I can’t lose you, too.”

“You won’t,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, his hold tightening just enough to reassure you. “Not now, not ever.”

You stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped up in his embrace, the weight of everything slipping away in his arms. But eventually, reality crept back in, and you pulled back, catching the flicker of resolve in his gaze.

“If we do this…” You paused, steadying yourself. “If we leave, we need a plan.”

Logan gave a small nod, his hand still resting on yours. “We’ll figure it out. Tonight, we’re just gettin’ you through this.”

It was a promise, simple and unbreakable, and for the first time in weeks, you felt a flicker of hope stirring deep inside you.

---

The rehearsal dinner was held in a private room at the church a few days later; a grand, echoing place with gilded walls and tall stained-glass windows that cast colored light over everything. Clyde, his parents, and your family were all gathered, discussing wedding arrangements like it was a done deal, each word chipping away at any illusion of control you had left.

Logan and the other bodyguards stood at a respectful distance, keeping watch. He tried to keep his gaze neutral, but his eyes lingered on you longer than necessary, catching every forced smile and stiff nod you gave.

As the minister went through the motions, you and Clyde practiced exchanging vows. You held his hands, repeating words that felt like a foreign language—lifeless, meaningless. Your eyes drifted toward Logan, and he gave you the barest nod, grounding you with that single, unspoken promise.

After the vows, Clyde leaned in close, his voice low and smug. “I think you’ll come to love our life together, Y/N. Just give it time.”

You forced a polite smile, biting back the words you wanted to say. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Logan clench his fists, his face darkening.

Finally, as the rehearsal ended and people began drifting off, you made your way to a quiet corner, needing a moment alone. Logan slipped over to you, his movements subtle as he came to stand beside you.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice softer now that it was just the two of you.

You shook your head, feeling that familiar knot of dread twist tighter. “Logan, I don’t think I can go through with this. But I don’t know if I can run, either. I’m…  I’m stuck.”

He took a deep breath, his gaze intense as he looked down at you. “What if I told you that you didn’t have to decide tonight?” he asked quietly. “That we could just… take it one day at a time. You don’t have to have all the answers right now.”

The tension in your shoulders eased a bit, and you met his eyes, finding strength in the certainty there. He wasn’t pushing you, wasn’t forcing anything on you. He was just… here, with you, in whatever way you needed.

“Okay,” you whispered, nodding slowly. “One day at a time.”

Logan gave a small, reassuring smile. “That’s all we need, darlin’.” His hand brushed your shoulder, lingering just a second longer than necessary before he stepped back.

---

The day of the wedding had arrived, and you were dolled up, your makeup and hair were perfect, and your wedding dress was heavy, constricting, and large.

Once the makeup artists and hair stylists left, you had fled to the bathroom in the bridal suite and were currently hunched over the toilet. You hadn’t thrown up—yet—but you could feel the nausea and anxiousness rising.

You braced yourself against the counter, taking deep breaths as you tried to calm the twisting feeling in your stomach. The dress felt like a vice, heavy and restrictive, pressing on every nerve, suffocating in a way that went beyond fabric and lace. You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping the queasiness would pass.

A knock at the door pulled you from the spinning in your head.

“Y/N?” Nancy’s soft, steady voice filtered through, full of that motherly concern you’d come to rely on all your life.

You took a steadying breath, swallowing hard before calling out, “Come in, Nancy.”

The door creaked open, and Nancy stepped inside, closing it quietly behind her. Her gaze immediately softened as she took in the look on your face, her expression a mix of sympathy and something else—resolve, maybe.

“Oh, cara mia,” she murmured, reaching out to place a hand on your shoulder. “You don’t look well. This whole business—it’s too much, isn’t it?”

You managed a shaky nod. “I… I don’t know if I can do this, Nancy. Every time I think about it, I just…” You trailed off, not sure how to put into words the suffocating dread that had settled over you.

She gave you a small, encouraging squeeze. “You know,” she said quietly, “there are other paths besides the one your father chose for you. And you don’t have to walk it alone.”

Your heart skipped at her words. “You… you’d help me? Even if I…?”

Nancy nodded, a spark of fierce protectiveness in her eyes. “Logan’s already got your things in his car,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “If you’re ready to go, he’s waiting.”

You blinked back tears before grabbing one of her hands, “y- you want me to go?”

“SÌ. Your father is a bastardo, breaking that promise him and your mother made.” She squeezed your hand, “Logan’s a good man. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He won’t let you down.”

You swallowed hard, Nancy’s words settling like a quiet fire in your chest. She was right. Your father had broken his promise, and you didn’t owe him your life just because he controlled every other part of it.

With a shaky exhale, you gave her a nod. “Alright… I’ll go.”

Nancy’s face softened, relief mingling with pride. “Good girl. Now, take this.” She pressed a small envelope into your hand. “Cash. Just in case.”

You looked down at it, blinking back tears. “Thank you, Nancy. For everything.”

She pulled you into a hug, her hand stroking your back gently. “Go, cara mia. Go live your life.” She pulled back, eyes glinting with fierce determination. “And don’t look back.”

You nodded, holding onto that resolve as you slipped out of the bathroom and made your way down the hall, heart pounding. Every step felt heavier, weighed down by fear and the voice in the back of your mind that told you this was dangerous, reckless. But when you stepped outside and saw Logan waiting by his car, the weight lifted.

He looked up, his gaze intense but soft, like he’d been waiting for this moment just as long as you had. “You ready?”

You hesitated, just for a moment, before giving him a small nod. “Yeah. Let’s get out of here.”

Logan opened the passenger door for you, helping you in, his hand lingering on yours for a second longer than necessary. He closed the door, then climbed into the driver’s seat, starting the engine with a low rumble that matched the pulse pounding in your ears.

As he pulled out of the church’s parking lot, the weight of the decision hit you again. You were leaving everything behind—the security, the expectations, the people who’d shaped your entire life. But with each passing second, the fear melted away, replaced by a strange, liberating sense of excitement.

Logan glanced over, noticing the small smile tugging at your lips. “You don’t look so panicked now.”

You shook your head, unable to hide your grin. “I’m not. Not with you here.”

He gave a soft chuckle, that familiar warmth in his gaze. “Good. Because we’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”

You settled back, feeling more at ease than you’d felt in months. There was silence for a moment, comfortable and charged, before you turned to him, voice barely a whisper.

“Where are we going?”

Logan smirked. “Anywhere but here.”

You laughed softly, relaxing into your seat. The road stretched ahead, open and endless, and for the first time in a long while, the future felt like something you could shape.

logan is 141 years old and reader is around 23-25 years old

what!? is that a happy ending? who would've thought... next up, is origins!

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

I absolutely loved the dom shiu and nanami headcanons, can you do one with Gojo please?❤️

The way Satoru obsessively doms you

Tags: dom!Satoru x fem!Reader, sub!Reader, headcanons, dom/sub relationship, NO age regression, sub space, suggestive, mdni!

An: I’m glad you all are enjoying these :3

• Satoru definitely feels the need to keep tabs on his sub at all times. If he’s not peeking in on you with his six eyes, he’s keeping tabs on your phone and life360.

• Condescending, condescending, condescending…

• “Awh, look at you… is somebody needy for me, hm?”

• I hope you have a little bit of a humiliation kink because Satoru looooves seeing you embarrassed in front of all his friends. He’ll rub your hair just the way you like, gettin you all flustered while gently tugging on it — treating you like nothing but a little doll for him to toy with. If you try to dodge him, he’s only going to pull harder!

• “Look how pretty she is, riight~?” He’ll actively call attention to you to his friends — letting them gaze at your flushed cheeks and glassed over eyes.

• He’ll let his friends look at you, but don’t get it wrong. Satoru is possessive. “You’re all mine, pet. Those losers don’t deserve you.”

• While Nanami wouldn’t tell his sub what to where, Shiu would absolutely puck out his sub’s clothes — Satoru won’t pick out your clothes, but he’s at your side at all times like a guard dog, daring for someone to try their luck with you.

• Constantly showering you with expensive luxury gifts. He loves buying you cute panties and bras, but he’ll also spoil you in the sense that you’ll like barely mention you kinda enjoy this one hobby, and Satoru will buy literally everything pertaining to that hobby. He loves seeing you happy and flustered.

• Touchyyyy. Satoru needs to feel his hands on you constantly. He always makes such a scene of it too: snaking his hand from your tummy, between your breasts, up to your neck to squeeze your windpipe carefully as he presses a passionate kiss to your lips.

• Has a praise kink of his own, “If you’re going to make noise, don’t waste your.. ngh~ breath on moaning. Fucking praise me. Tell me how good only I can make you feel..”

• “Yeah, you like that? Tell me how much you like it, pet.”

• Yeah, remember that humiliation thing he likes? He will ask, “Who’s my good girl?” to you. No, he doesn’t care how cringe it is. No, he will not relent until you answer him correctly. He loves how embarrassed and frustrated you look when you finally give in to his whims.

• On one occasion, he made you grind against his shoe while hugging his leg until there was a small wet spot on the leather. He rubbed your hair and cooed to you as you begged to be fucked. “Oh, come on, pet. You can do better than that for me. Show me how much you want it, and maybe I’ll let you up on my lap.”

• If Satoru’s not in a dom headspace, he absolutely loves being little spoon. I don’t make the rules.

[melaninfury]

Astrology Harsh Opinions

Please don’t take this as astrological facts. These are more my experience and perspective. The whole chart and aspects must also be considered.

- one things for certain and two things for sure if there is cancer in the first house or especially the sun side. I know you are a road rager and you need to stop.

- Yes, Libra placements you are people pleasing even when you’re trying to please yourself.

- I second this if you have personal planets like Moon, Venus, Mercury and Mars in the Seventh house. Just please choose yourself first and stop trying to make your identity being a savior.

-Scorpios are you done being my way or the highway about important deep, compromising issues in love? Let your toxic internal ways go and let people accept you not enable muah 💋

- Aries, you know that anger and motivation are not passionate ways to solve your emotional problems. Please feel deeper and unlike a two year old child 🙇🏽‍♀️ (movement can be still and internal)

- Libra Venus always wear or do something socially adorable. Poole either love their nails, shoes clothes, love life or simply even their furniture in the house. Y’all have aesthetic.

- Virgos and intense Virgo placements like Virgo mars in the 6th house or having planets at Virgo degrees. I always notice this connection to animals or pet companions. They have this understanding of pets being of service to its owner. So for example I noticed they always have a lifelong pet or multiple pets that become apart of their life not just an accessory. Their houses will be filled with the existence of their pet companion.I do think that being that the 6th house, rules over pets and acts of service virgos (depends how aspects and house at the end of the day) usually like or animals like them in some way. This is the person who always loves to hold their friends pets or feels like an aunt or uncle to others fur babies. Will pet animals on the street.

- I personally think voiceover astrological readings are wayyyyy more thorough and detailed than written or typed ones. But to each its on your learning something you know.

- Yes Sagittarius placements are the hidden people pleasers. Very outwardly focus. You want your thoughts to matter and who you are in the world to matter but in a way where it leads others. It’s a way to be validated but also validated for what they want not just what people like about them. They would rather instead of being called pretty and nice to be seen as a leader and wise (maybe both). If you value their opinions and let them be friendly to you. You’ll see they care very deeply about being validated not as free as a stereotypical sag sun sign but let it be in the 9th house or especially a Sag Moon. They want to be validated on a philosophical level mentally they please to know their worth, not just to be seen and in a relationship.

-I’m sorry but most people with Scorpio mars get around…sorry. Y’all always are sneaking and having some ACTIVE 👀 experiences in their life. Usually always moving with desires, one they connect on a spiritual or deep level they attach quick. So if their still talking to people or in a relationship I find them to wander when their spirit and deep level desires fade and have served their purpose. They also are just very passionate. They feel even when they don’t know how to flow or deal with their emotions. You will know if these people want you or especially want to F you. Trust me you will know.

- Virgos and Leos always skeptical and unbelieving in astrology but the first one to cry or want a reading when you prove them wrong.

- Why does everyone use astrology for fame and beauty all the time or want to look at the surface level of synastry?Let me elaborate, you say you want to know if you're gonna be famous? Why do you not have a career or a focus in mind. Hell why are you wanting to learn astrology but you refuse to study or look up different interpreters. Most information you all see is accessible if you are so hell bent on being what you think you are. First start with who are you and what makes you likable. If your so concerned if Timmy likes you, why don't you just google, study all aspects and pull up the composite, etc.

-Moon mars Synastry is a dupe. They either hate you or are entirely too handsy. But if you're lucky you are not just compatible but in tune with each other. You become intermingled into emotions spirit and creativity together. You will look good together or be good in theory but these two plants must merge peaceful. If your Synastry is chaotic or aspects conflict you will have some strong elusive emotions towards each other or one is surely to suffer if you let the dynamic play out for too long.

- Moon conjunct Uranus natal, especially if one or more planet is retrograde. Who never loved your parents and made them never show love and affection properly to you. Please figure that out before you internalize...

- Bro I don’t get jealous but if I did I would be jealous of Venus moon conjunction in general or in Libra. Y’all dress so nice, always look put together. There is style there and it’s usually distinct even if it’s not unique. You look good okay 🤷🏾‍♀️

- Sneaky sneaky Aquarius, always playing detached when you’re really psychologically (psychopathiclly) calculated and emotional. Water bearers I mean. Guard your emotions all you want. I and the rest can see you care through your actions. Even when you pretend you don’t. And revenge is still trying to emotionally hurt people!

- Water signs…yeah you question. What do you think about telling the truth just to be a good person. No need to think of pros and cons or what you’ll get out of it before. Simply just be brutally ✨ honest ✨

©️ All Rights Reserved melaninfury

[gay-dorito-dust]

Viktor’s journal.

How can you mourn someone that you weren’t quite sure was dead? You couldn’t simply afford to make funeral arrangements just to bury an empty coffin six feet underground when you yourself were unsure of what has become of your beloved Viktor.

You didn’t exactly know where the arcane had taken him. So should you even at all assume him as dead or just more so in another plan of existence far beyond your reach? And if so would he ever find his ways back? or did he think that where he was currently was a suitable place for his misguided and misconstrued ideologies of perfection? Seeing no point in returning to you after all he’s done?

You weren’t quite sure what to make of all of this but that didn’t ease the ache in your heart as you found a journal of his laying nearby, a thin layer of dust covering it, clearly showing the passage of time of the last viktor stepped foot in this room becoming more painfully evident as you brushed it clear before opening it. It was a rather standard journal filled to the brim of notes, sketches and annotations belonging to Viktor throughout the ever evolving stages of understanding the hexcore, nothing new as it was the only thing he talked about so passionately with a gleam in his eyes.

He wanted to use it for good and for the betterment of others but as you look at the notes and recall the memories of Viktor telling you the advancements they could make with hextech, it felt all but painful now knowing and experiencing what you have at the hands of the hexcore; you and everyone else almost became one of those weird sleek white and gold plated humanoid creatures not too long ago. So it was needless to say that your feelings towards the hexcore weren’t the same as they use to be, though then again neither was Viktor’s when he changed.

‘I want to use it to better the lives of others.’ He once said as his amber eyes gleamed brighter than you’ve ever seen before.

You wished that was the case but as the old saying went: evil deeds are paved with good intentions.

Viktor’s heart was in the right place but the hexcore corrupted his mind into ignoring it, ignoring his humanity in his pursuit in perfecting the imperfect. You had lost Viktor to the hexcore on multiple occasions way before his physical and mental change after the attack upon the council, an attack he was meant to die in. You had lost him and thus didn’t know where you were qualified to mourn a man who could potentially still be still living in another plan of existence.

The further you delved into the journal, mind lost in the memories as you tried to use to make sense as to where everything went wrong, that you didn’t notice that you had reached the very end of the journal and notes regarding the hexcore had become notes regarding yourself. The chicken scratch writing of a scientist had become notes written in the most beautiful and eloquent handwriting you’ve ever seen.

Notes such as;

‘The initial reaction i had towards my newfound feelings towards y/n was to deny them. They were my friend and I thought as such for a long time until I began to think about them on a regular basis, almost as though I need to have them close to properly function. it’s distraction but it’s a distraction that I welcome without annoyance, an distraction that I want to have near me all the time just to claim I had a good day.

‘They didn’t come by today, which is something that I shouldn’t let affect me as greatly as it does. However I couldn’t help but keep looking back towards the door to the lab in hopes that I would see them. I was told that I was looking as though a love sick puppy dog, waiting for them to come through those doors as per usual and yet I couldn’t help but feel a little sad when more of the days pass and I didn’t see them. Maybe they’ll come back tomorrow?

‘The feelings have a name as I’ve found as of recent, love. It’s love that I feel for them. They’ve consumed my thoughts and I’ve found myself tinkering with spare parts in hopes of making things that they’d like, all of which I have locked away in a box beneath my bed that I’d open sooner or later in hopes of improving them. Will i ever give them to y/n? Perhaps after I crack this equation for the hexcore, I’m so close to a breakthrough and feel as if the excitement I’ll feel will bring me to confess to them in a heat of the moment type scenario.

I hope they reciprocate my feelings.

That was the last entry of his notes and it was dated as the day before the attack on the council and you softly closed the journal, holding it close to your chest as you closed your eyes, breathing deeply as the idea that things could’ve been extremely different had things not escalated the way they did.

So once you had composed yourself enough to go to Viktor’s house in order to find the box he spoke of in his notes, finding that it had already been opened, almost as though his spirit knew you were going to come here afterwards and made it more accessible to you; and within it was a plethora of beautifully wielded masterpieces in the form of mechanical birds, flowers and even smaller things for you to fidget with should your nerves get the best of you.

Viktor was so thoughtful and you couldn’t help but let out a pained whimper as you cradled the box in your arms before finding yourself falling asleep in Viktor’s old bed with dried tears upon your cheeks. Life was cruel to take Viktor away from you but for some unexplainable reason, you’ve never felt closer to him than you did as you held his journal and gifts close to your chest.

Unaware of how one of the Birds eye’s glowed blue and the petals of the flowers blossomed in a similar colour.

[seasprincess]

cowboy!rafe x mayors daughter!reader

part 1 here

Warnings: smut, mdni, unprotected s3x (wrap it), praise, nicknames, nippl3 sucking, degrading if you squint sweaty man

Rafe had spent his evening in a east he usually does when being around you.

His hands in his pants touching himself to the thought of you in that dress.

That god damn dress.

He loves when you wear dresses, which is most of the time if not all.

He loves the way they flow on your body, the way they stop just on your thighs or the way that when you sit down and it rides up a bit it shows him what colour panties you’re wearing. God does it get him hot and flustered knowing what the panties he should be taking off look like. Jesus does he want to take them off. See that pretty pussy of yours.

But he know it can’t happen, he knows he can’t do that.

So he has to stick to his hand.

For now at least.

The sun beams down on your skin as you make your way to your porch. Sitting in that swing seat you got for your birthday. You practically live there.

It’s calming to sit there and just swing back and forth. And it also gives a great veiw of Rafe when he’s chopping up wood for your fire for that evening. Your father really does make that poor guy work. Working any job at this point. But Rafe doesn’t care. He wants this job.

He looks so good with that axe in his hands. Muscles flexing as he cuts the wood. His biceps on show due to his white tank top. Which he decides to take off in that moment. Like he wants to tease you more.

Your eyes are immediately drawn to his abs, the way they glisten from the sunlight and sweat. You could just lick them. Maybe when he’s less sweaty. He looks so good, you could just-

“Darlin’ it’s rude to stare.” Rafe’s voice brings you out of the trance and you look up at his face rather than his other body parts. He just smirks as he watches you swing back and forth. Back and forth.

“I wasn’t staring.” You were.

“Mhm sure.” He says as he takes his hat off to rub his for head of any sweat. Guess he does take the hat off.

“I wasn’t!” You say with a small pout, acting like a spoilt child. Well you are spoiled so that parts right at least.

“You know it’s okay if you were. I don’t blame you.” He says as he places the axe on the ground and starts making his way over to you. His boots clacking on the wooden planks of the decking as he reaches in front of you. He towers above you when you stand up, so when you’re sat down. It’s like a mountain and a rock. He leans against the wall as he puts a toothpick in his mouth and fiddles with it. Looking at you. “So when we riding again sweetheart?”

The nickname makes your heart skip a beat as a small blush forms on your cheeks. Making them pink and rosy.

“Oh um, I don’t know. Don’t mind.”

Rafe chuckles and rolls his eyes as he pushes off the wall.

“God you do give up fast.”

“I’m not giving up!” You retaliate as you sit up straight, defending yourself. “I’m just busy.”

“Doing what?” Rafe quickly says back as he gets closer to you. So close his knees are touching the chair you’re sat in. “Cause you look like you’re just sittin’ down to me, darlin’.”

Rafe’s hand comes to your chin as he makes you look up at him. Eyes taking in every feature of your face as his rough thumb rubs your chin.

“Do you know how wild you drive me baby?” Rafe says as he smirks down at you. He’s decided he’s had enough of your back and forth flirting with no outcome. He needs you.

Bad.

“Hmmm no.” You smirk back. Yes you did know. Of course you knew. But you didn’t think it was that bad. “My dad is out.”

“I know.” He replies before he leans down and kisses you. Softly and passionately. Hes wanted to do this for so long and now it’s finally happening. He’s finally getting his wish.

And of course you kiss back. You’ve been waiting for this hair as long as he has.

“Why don’t you show me that pretty room of yours baby?”

Immediately you spring up and slot your hand in his. Leading him to the room.

He wastes no time to push you up against the door as soon as you shut it. Hands finding the hem of your dress and pulling it over your head.

“So pretty f’me.” He says as his kisses move to your neck, biting and sucking. Causing you to whimper and moan as you squirm in his touch. You’ve needed this so much.

His hand slithers down your body before reaching your panties, earning a gasp from you as his finger brushes over your clothes clit.

“So wet for me huh?” He smirks. Almost like he’s proud of himself for making you like this just from kissing you. “Needy girl.”

Both his hands travel to your hips as he looks at you.

“Are you sure about this?” He asks as he scans your eyes for any doubts.

You quickly nod your head and reply a small “Yeah.”

He smiles before picking you up and laying you on the bed. Undoing your bra.

“Fuck you’re so pretty doll.” He says as his lips attach to your nipple.

You’re just a whimpering mess as you play with his hair. Tugging on it slightly as his hands slowly pull down your pants.

“Gonna fuck you so good sweetheart.”

Rafe discards your panties somewhere in the room before working on taking his jeans and pants off. And in a few seconds he’s naked like you. He climbs onto the bed as he holds out his hand.

“I told you I was going to tech you how to ride.”

You pick up on his words and start straddling him. Looking at him as he places his hands back on your hips.

You slowly lower yourself down onto him with a moan. You’ve imagined this for a while. And he is definitely bigger than how you imagined.

“Fuccckkk baby.” Rafe moans out as you start moving up and down. That good feeling building up every time you go back down. “Taking me so well.”

Rafes hands help you move as he watches where he enters you. This is so much better than he imagined. And gosh has he imagined this. A lot.

Your movements get more difficult as you keep trying to ride him. But it’s just too much for you.

“Rafey.” You say with a slight whimper. Immediately he picks up on it and nods.

“Shhh baby. I’ve got you.” He says before flipping you over and getting on top of you. Smirking above you as he renters you.

You moan again as he kisses the corner of your mouth, his thrusts fast and deep.

He needed this so of course he’s not holding back. “Good girl.”

He places a kiss on your forehead as you grip on his bicep. Steadying yourself as he just watches you.

Rafe lets out a moan as your legs start to shake. His finger slowly rubbing your clit, he wants you to cum. He needs it too.

“Cum baby. Cum on my cock.” Rafe says before placing another kiss on your neck.

It doesn’t take you long to cum after that. Just like Rafe wanted.

His thrusts slow down slightly as his dick twitches before painting your walls with his seed.

“Fuck baby.” He says as he kisses your soft lips. Smiling as he lays down next to you, arm wrapping around you as he pulls you closer.

You may regret this decision later.

a/n: there will be a part three 🥳 Divider- @anitalenia

tags: @littlelamy @maybankslover

[ezziedoodles]

Why Season 2 Of Arcane Felt A Little Off

Let me preface this by saying I adore this show, and I loved this season. I laughed, I cried, and I had a good time watching it. The art direction and animation is a masterpiece. This is probably my favorite show, but I think it's good to critique the things you love and this entire season I felt like I was waiting for something.

For a show titled Arcane, season one had remarkably little to do with the arcane. Yes, there was Hextech and magic, but the show was centered on this class divide between Piltover and Zaun and all the conflicts that stem from this. The very first scene of the show is enforcers killing citizens on the bridge, with Powder and Vi finding their dead parents' bodies. Zilco's reasoning for doing anything he did was because he believed he was helping Zaun, including raising Jinx the way he did. Vi was so passionate about her city and the injustice facing it. Caitlyn witnessing this injustice is what causes her to question the systems she is a part of. Viktor and Jayce (but especially Viktor) created technology with the intention of wanting to improve life for the undercity. Ekko is a revolutionary doing so much to give his people a community and a chance to live their lives. My point is literally every single character is connected by this conflict between the cities.

Now let's take a look at the second season. Where is this part of the story that was so essential to the first season? There's a brief revolutionary beat with Jinx and her followers but once they escape from prison, the show moves on from this and never touches it again. We see Caitlyn's descent into corrupt madness, becoming everything she and Vi wanted to stop. Eventually she realizes how wrong she was but do we see her make any reparations to Zaun specifically for the damage she caused? She gassed the city, poisoning the air even further (with gas that has been confirmed to make people sick in the long run), harming hundreds of innocent people. And Vi, a character so vehemently against enforcers in the first season, goes along with this for how long? Days? Weeks? And only stops when she can visually see the impact of Caitlyn's madness as she almost kills a child in front of her. These characters are flawed and I love that, but we see them get their happy ending without ever truly addressing or helping with what they did to Zaun.

Ekko sees an alternate universe of everything his city could be, everything they all wanted so badly in the first season. Equality, safety, education, food security, and more. He says he is thankful for the reminder and I fully believe he will go forth with this vision in mind, but do we ever see it? And that right there is the problem. We don't know what happens to Zaun in the end, we don't know if things get better. All we see is Sevika on the council but we don't know if that will fix anything since people have stood up for the undercity in council before and it did nothing.

I want to see Ekko rally his people and repair the damage caused by the war. I want to see Vi open up the last drop and make it what it was always meant to be, a place of community. I want to see schools open in the undercity in honor of Viktor and Jayce. I want to see the two cities heal from the damage done to each other. Fuck it, I just want literally any closure on this plotline! Just tack on a 2 minute montage of what happened to this city after the war and I'd feel a little better. But instead this part of the story was completely sidelined throughout the season and ignored entirely in the finale. I'm not someone that thinks every story needs to have a moral, but this show was trying to tell us something! The first season was screaming from the rooftops to beware of privilege, beware systemic oppression, to fight inequality, and I find it really sad that there was no conclusion for that.

I do wish there had been three seasons to give it a smoother transition form politics to magic but it is what it is. Nothing is perfect. This season gave me so much including the best depiction of soulmates I've ever seen in my life so you win some you lose some ig.

[jam3sacaster]

“How beautiful you are, my girl.”

(Rivals) Declan O’Hara x Reader

Suggestion by the lovely @laverna-fanfictions 🩷 / You trust your new boyfriend, Declan, enough to be your first..

18+ FANFIC / SMUT & Daddy Declan always 💋Short work. Reader character aged at 21.

Pulling periwinkle woollen socks over your glacial feet, you watched adoringly as Declan O’Hara kneeled by the fire, throwing jagged lumps of wood into the blazing fireplace. “There we are. That should keep us goin’ for a bit.” He beamed, rising to his feet and clapping his hands together to rid them of ash. The garden of The Priory was enveloped in a beautiful duvet of crisp snow, still falling and settling. Declan quickly snapped emerald curtains shut on the picturesque scene, and reached over the fireplace to turn on the radio. “And now, George Michael.” The tinny voice of the deejay spoke, promptly followed by Careless Whisper. “My favourite song!” You beamed, jumping to your feet and fiddling with the radio, increasingly the volume loud enough to make Declan’s face contort.

“Come here, you.” He sighed, pulling you tight to his chest — one hand wound around your waist, and one hand clamped onto yours. Declan was aware of your affinity to dancing and although not too partial himself, he would degrade himself enough to see the sparkling grin painted across your lips. Resting your rouged cheek against the warmed cotton of his taupe shirt, you pushed out an exhale. “I love you, Mr O’Hara.” You purr, fumbling over a few steps in your jumbled dance routine. “I love you too, girl.” Declan replies without missing a beat. He inched his face towards yours, chocolate moustache bristling against your lips. His sharpened eyes scanned your elegant button nose, your rounded lips, your twinkling eyes.

“Tonight, the music seems so loud.” George Michael warbled through the radio, as Declan crashed his lips against yours in passion, feral hands pulling at the hem of your golden satin dress. “Take it off.” He grunted, and you promptly pulled the dress over your head. Much to his pleasant surprise, the removal of your dress exposed your tremendous naked body — lustrously silky skin, huge breasts with rosy nipples and a neatly trimmed entrance to your soaking cunt. “Lie down.” Declan instructed, and you steadily lay against the shaggy mauve rug, adjacent to the fireplace. The stirring heat of the flames warming your blood, softening your nipples and coaxing you to spread your legs for your lover.

Stripping the constricting clothes from his person, Declan knelt on the rug to meet you, stroking his gargantuan cock, readying himself for entry. “Declan, wait, wait… I need to tell you something.” You splutter, covering your cunt with a hesitant hand. “What?” He interrogated, shuffling back in shock of your sudden outburst. “I’ve never… I’ve never actually… You know. Done this before.” You mumble.

Declan’s face portrayed quite the picture of bewilderment. You certainly suck my dick like you have, he thought to himself. “You’re joking, aren’t ‘ya?” He most certainly stifled a laugh as he spoke. “Why are you laughing?” You ask, sitting up on your elbows and furrowing your eyebrows in almost-fury. “I’m not, I’m not. Ya’ just…” He paused in disbelief, “Ya’ suck my dick like a fuckin’ porn star.” Chuckling to himself again and pinching the bridge of his nose softly, he was bracing himself for a swift smack on his arm… which you punctually delivered. “Declan! I’m being serious. I’m actually very nervous.” You mutter under your breath. “Well, do ‘ya want to? Do ‘ya t’ink ya’ ready?” Declan questioned, glaring at you expectantly with hazelnut eyes. All you could do was nod, and spit out a small ‘yes’ whilst removing your hand away from your wet spot.

Just the sight of your glistening, pink folds made Declan’s cock jump in excitement. You watched with bated breath as he inched towards you, grabbing a firm hold of your leg and resting it in the muscular crook of his shoulder. “Are ya’ definitely sure?” He asked again, and waited for your peep of a ‘yes’ once more. Lining the pink tip of his penis with your slick entrance, pushing himself into you at a painstaking pace — giving your body time to adjust to his sheer size. “My God, how beautiful you are, my girl.” The Irishman mumbled under his breath, his face twisted in pleasure. “Christ, how are you this fuckin’ wet?” His sultry voice growled, and in response, your muscles tightened around him, causing his eyes to clamp shut momentarily.

As he steadily begun to increase his pace, thunderous whimpers fell loosely from your mouth, toes curling at the newfound pleasure. “Fuck me harder, Declan. I can take it. I promise.” You plead, wisps of golden hair shadowing your leaf-green eyes. Following orders and placing his left hand on the mellow part of your waist, Declan thrusted himself into you with monumental vigour — his balls thumping against you and the delectable wet smack of your skin colliding with his providing the most stunning music to your ears.

Continuing his tempo for a mere matter of moments, Declan spat towards you, “Fuck me, I’m gonna cum already. Tighten it up for me again, girl.” You clenched your soaked cunt again, keeping yourself contracted around him. His resounding thrusts grew sloppy, and a droplet of sweat fell from his forehead, splashing onto the small of your back. Declan quickly pulled his cock out of you, straddling your chest with his fleeced thighs and pawing at his cock over your face. “Where do ya’ want it, love?” He spoke through gritted teeth. Without audibly replying, you open your mouth, waving a yearning pink tongue towards him. Grunting melodically, Declan released his hot load onto your tongue and watched as you swallowed it greedily. “Fuck, you taste so good.” You chime, licking across your lips and savouring the taste in its entirety. “Such a good girl.” He purred, stroking a rugged hand across your cheek.

[star2fishmeg]

im gonna need you to elaborate on inexperienced!sub!Luke x inexperienced!reader PLEASE bc u don’t get it u created a new need

I love the idea of just reader and Luke being each other's firsts and figuring shit out together, like they're all nervous and giggly about it, finally getting to confess their desires. They're not fussed if it's not perfect, they're trying things and seeing how it feels, reassuring each other with no pressure at all. One of them wants to try a kink? Sure. New position? Cool. Switch roles? New location? They'll take it slow and build confidence. Practice makes perfect, right?

Elaborate? It's sweet, sexy teamwork! You and Luke being each other's first times, figuring sex out together comfortably at your own pace, with love. You've fooled around before, sure, foreplay, prep, making out, all that but neither have, as they say, lost your virginities. He knows he likes when you pull his hair or suck him off, you know you like his fingers plunging deep inside your cunt and when he devours you out. But you and Luke don't know how good sex can feel when it's laced with passion and love.

You're both kind of shy about it, nervous. You're both embarrassed at how old you both are and still haven't fucked. Yet it's supposed to be fun, so neither of you pay much mind to the social constructs around it, you're just smiling and showering each other in compliments and reassurances the more the clothes that land on the floor.

You both having a basic understanding of sex but neither practising until now. Luke's sat against the headboard with you straddling his lap, like you've done many times before where you've gone no further than dry humping, but this time you're both stark naked, taking the beauty of each other in and he can feel your arousal seeping onto his skin, his dick rubbing against yours and it takes everything in you to keep your hips still, hands tracing over the ridges of his abs and v-line.

You're both figuring it out together, piecing together things you've watched and read and finding your feet. He's shy at first, confessing how the thought of you riding him turns him on so fast, his cheeks flushing instantly as his large hands caress your thighs in downwards motions, just to glide back up again and knead into the flesh. You're slightly smirking, ego shooting through the roof knowing he wants you to be the boss, as if he knows you fantasise about calling him your good boy just to have him melt in the palm of your hands.

"Are you sure you don't wanna try missionary first? I mean, what if I ruin it? You know I've never done this before..." you mumble, his hands gliding from your thighs to gently hold yours.

"You're not gonna ruin it, angel," he leans over to press his lips to yours, "I want you to follow your instincts, and you're gonna know if I like something, believe me. Just want you to tell me what you want."

And you do because once you both get started and find your rhythm, he's sinking down into the mattress, throwing his head back into the pillows with his hands grabbing your ass. He's whining pathetically about how good your pussy feels, gummy walls squeezing his pulsing cock tight, and his heads dizzy, heart pounding and reverberating in his ears. His stomach's tossing and turning, oddly tight but he's in heaven, and the fact you're moaning his name so airily, telling him how he's such a good boy for you doing as he's told just makes your rocking so much more arousing. You feel like your're floating, thighs aching and burning but Luke's hips are snapping up into you at a brutal pace, one that makes your tits bounce and has raw gasps slip from your lips, nails digging into his chest and you're so close. After all, he loves when you boss him around, whatever his baby wants, his baby gets.

"Lu, faster, fucking need your cock," you breathe out, his eyes opening, and you notice how blown out his pupils are, "M'gonna cum. Be good 'n make me cum."

"Yes ma'am," his groan's raw from his chest, like he's holding back his release for you, "M'gonna make you cum, gonna cum with you, fuck-"

"Cum, pretty boy, cum for me, show me how I make you feel. Wanna make a mess on your cock,"

And while you both may not have lasted long; you were together and that was the main thing. Together, comfortably and fell asleep cradled in each other's embrace with soft giggles.

[starheavenly]

hiii!!! loving your locket comics!!!!!! just wanted to ask a few questions about your process, if you dont mind :D

whats your general process like?

do you do thumbnails, how do they look like?

roughly how long does it take you to complete a comic panel or page?

how detailed are your sketches? do you do multiple?

do you have any specific techniques for lineart?

do you typically use references for your comics?

generally, how much effort and focus do you put into your comics?

do you have any advice for drawing comics?

sorry for for the absolute bombardment of questions, lmao. just really enjoy your art and comics and very interested in the behind the scenes!! feel free to skip any questions (or this whole ask) well wishes and salutations!!! :D

Hello! I'm so glad you enjoy my comics, and I totally don't mind breaking down the process!

For a normal comic page, I would likely actually write a script since it's much easier to keep track of dialogue and actions. But since these are short, I just write it into my thumbnails.

Step 1: Thumbnails. Easily one of my favorite parts, since I get to throw all my ideas down. I do these comics on a 2-panel grid, so I don't have to worry about actual paneling, and it allows me to focus more on the setup of each shot. Think of it like storyboarding!

Step 2: Add cleaner thumbs if needed. I actually made 3D models of Deadlock and Ratchet's chest in Blockbench, so I often trace them to save myself some time! (It might look insane, but I promise, for me, it's not.)

Step 3: Lettering! I actually like to get the lettering out of the way right away since it can take a while. Ever since I started treating lettering as its own form of art, my skills have gotten better, but it also takes much longer.

Step 4: Clean sketch! I'm just now finding out that people think I’m doing lineart for these? I am not… these are all just clean sketches. Maybe doing the blackwork gives the illusion of lineart?

Step 5: Color! Most of these comics are in black and white to save time, but it also lets me focus on values and shot framing again. I add my glow overlay to the eyes, and boom, done!

Roughly how long does it take you to complete a comic panel or page?

It really depends on how complicated the panels are. I like to step out of my comfort zone. I know the Grimlock and Misfire one took longer because of how many panels there were and the fact that I was drawing characters I’d never drawn before, but I’d say it usually takes around 5-8 hours for a whole page.

Do you typically use references for your comics?

I'm literally the reference GOD- we all know this. But yes, I love using references and doing character studies. I have yet to do a study on LL Drift, but I have a few references of him that I’ve made.

Generally, how much effort and focus do you put into your comics?

I mean, I wouldn't say I don't put in a lot of effort? I put in enough. I don't know… there's a point in the clean sketch process where you can kind of just turn off your brain. I'm passionate about comics, but we can all agree there's a point in a drawing where you just zone out.

Do you have any advice for drawing comics?

I think being able to balance dialogue and visuals is super important. I don't know if you guys have picked up a graphic novel from Barnes & Noble recently, but if you open a page, you'll see a character sitting with the biggest bubble you've ever seen, filled with paragraphs of text. While I get it—being a novel as much as it's graphic—I personally like to visualize emotions more. If it means adding two more panels to make an interesting dialogue setup, I don't mind doing it. Another thing to remember is that not all panels need to have details or 100% effort. Sometimes you need to simplify and move on, and that's okay! Those two extra panels that are giving you a better stage setup might be the ones that need fewer details and less time. I would consider my comic page work and my 4-panel work very different. One is about paneling, setup, and visuals, while the other is very much like storyboarding. Both are skills you learn with practice and study.