#i'm realizing how long this series is getting

[jeonginsleftcheek]

The sun to me

The Departure. Bonus chapter.

~ this is part of my series The Sun To Me, so if you haven't read it, this scenario might not make sense! if you want to read the series first here's the link to the masterlist!💙

pairing: hyunjin x afab!reader

synopsis: For the frist time in years your feet gather courage to step on the ship, this time with Hyunjin holding your hand.

warnings: mentions of crying and insecurities, very small pinch of angst, multiple sex scenes, oral (f and m), face fucking, unprotected sex, creampies, mentions of throwing up and alcohol, fingering, squirting, mentions of pregnancy

wc: 10.9k

a/n: these events take place after the epilogue. got a bit too long whoopsie! i just love the universe of this series sm🥺

Hyunjin was sleeping peacefully until his body somehow recognized the lack of your warmth next to his, his arms reaching out where your place is, hands in search for your familiar figure.

After some time as he rolled over to your side, his eyes opened and he realized you weren't in bed.

But your warmth and smell lingered, Hyunjin couldn't help it as he leaned into your pillow and took a whiff of your shampoo.

In his sleepy state, he smiled to himself before getting up in search of you.

A faint light was coming from the kitchen so he let it lead him to what he was looking for.

You were staring out the window with a cup in your hand, all wrapped up in Hyunjin's clothes.

"Hey." he said quietly, his voice still raspy from sleep and you turned around to take in the sight of your lover.

You stifled a giggle at his disheveled hair, his cute puffy face, the pout on his lips, his shirt somehow twisted and falling off of his shoulder.

"Hey." you smiled and he made his way to you, his arms wrapping around you as soon as they could, a kiss planted on your forehead.

"Why aren't you in bed, cuddling me?" he whines, leaning on you as he buries his face in your neck, swaying you both a little.

"I couldn't sleep." you chuckle, putting your cup on the windowsill so you can embrace Hyunjin properly.

"Still nervous about tomorrow?" he looks at you and you nod.

"My flower, there's nothing to be scared of." he shakes his head, caressing you gently.

"I know. It's just been so long since I've left the island and this is the only thing I've come to know. Being away from my garden and my shop will be unusual for me."

"Love, we'll only be gone for five days." Hyunjin cups your face and you chuckle.

"Ah, I know I'm being dramatic. I've been hanging out with you too much." you smirk and he giggles.

"And still it's never enough." he whispers as he leans down to kiss you gently. "Why don't you come back to bed?"

"Okay." you nod and let Hyunjin take you to your bed, where he pulls you into his comforting embrace.

You do manage to fall asleep after some time, your dreams still restless, intertwined with excitement of going to the city with Hyunjin by your side.

Even though it's not the first time you're going there, you know with him it'll be a completely different experience, the memories you make there together will replace anything negative both of your minds have conjured up about the city.

"Good morning, lover." you greet Hyunjin as he walks into the kitchen the next morning, looking even more disheveled than he did when he woke up last night.

"Morning, my flower. Did you make pancakes?" he skips towards you and you nod fervently.

"Wow, you made so many! How long have you been up?" he purses his lips, feigning annoyance.

"Just a few hours." you grimace.

"Y/n! You were supposed to get some rest for today." Hyunjin pouts, his arms wrapping around your middle as he holds you from behind, pulling you into his body.

"I'm well rested. I'm just too excited." you giggle when he playfully bites your shoulder, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

"You're adorable, you know that?" he kisses the skin he bit into.

"So you tell me all the time." you chuckle.

"And I'll continue saying it." he smirks.

"Okay, sweet talker, eat your breakfast, we have to leave soon." you add, tapping his hand as he makes a kissy face at you.

After rolling your eyes at him playfully, you plant a kiss on his lips.

As soon as the two of you finish breakfast and clean up, having already packed the day before there was nothing left to do but get ready and leave to the ferry.

Before you go down to the pier, you leave your key to Catherine, who was more than happy to come check on your garden while you were away.

"Have a safe trip, my lovebirds!" she calls behind you as you wave at her and Luna with smiles on your faces.

The ferry was already close when you arrived to the pier, and Hyunjin squeezed your hand as soon as he saw you shiver.

He leans in and kisses your cheek, calming your nerves without any words, cause that was sometimes enough.

Just a light touch of Hyunjin's presence was all you needed to know you're safe.

Stepping on the ship felt like a dream, one you've thought about many times.

Before you met Hyunjin, there were times you felt angry and lonely making you want to pack up and leave everything behind; the garden, the flowers, the shop, the entire island that seemed to bring you nothing but misery back then.

After he came into your life, the island seemed different too, it's as if you were looking at it from his point of view, a pair of fresh eyes that made you realize just how much beauty can be found in simple things; like the rocks on the beach, like the sunlight peeking through trees, like the very flowers that grow from the ground, like the smiling face of a loved one.

When he left without saying anything for the whole summer, you thought about running to him, your legs taking you down to the pier many times but you never set foot on the ship, you only watched people come out and go in.

Sometimes you thought you saw Hyunjin.

It only hurt more.

Your inability to leave the island behind, as you would stand there just watching the ship disappear further away from you, just like it did the day he left.

But the thought of trying to find Hyunjin in the big city only for him to turn away from you was equally as scary as the thought of him never coming back to you.

Thankfully, he came back and stayed.

And now, you were brave enough to venture out of your comfort zone only if he was there, walking by your side.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Hyunjin caresses your hand as the two of you sit down, the ship slowly beginning to move.

Your heart leaps out of your chest for a moment and you take a deep breath in.

"Just how happy I am." you smile at him.

"I'm happy too." he smiles sweetly, leaning in to kiss you gently.

You lean your head on his shoulder as your fingers entwine, palms pressed together.

The wind picks up as the ship catches speed and the loud sounds of the water splashing against the hull coupled with the deep hum of the ship fill up your ears.

Hyunjin brings your hand to his lips and kisses your skin.

You're still scared but you keep reminding yourself that Hyunjin is there with you so nothing can go wrong.

Time passes by as the two of you talk and enjoy the breeze before you decide to take a little walk around the deck.

Thoughts and memories are swirling in your mind, on the day you left the island when you got into university, thinking you're definitely never going to come back to live on the island.

"You okay?" Hyunjin asks as you stare off into the distance.

"Just reminiscing the last time I was leaving the island in this ship."

"And when was that?" he asks, his hand finding yours again as you lean on the railing and look out into the horizon.

"When I got into uni. Gosh, it feels like I was a different person back then. So naive, so giddy to be away from everything that made me who I am. I thought I was going to find myself in the big city, that I was going to run away from the things gnawing at me. I thought I was going to change my life around, have an amazing career, experience love. Have a perfect life. Away from the garden and my mother." you scoff. "I was so stupid."

"You weren't stupid, y/n. You were brave, you got out of your comfort zone and stepped into something completely unknown. You tried it and there is really nothing wrong with trying to find yourself." Hyunjin squeezes your hand.

"But I failed." for some reason your eyes become teary. "I was weak and couldn't take it."

"You didn't fail. You had to go back to the island because of your mother. She was sick and you came back to help her, that just shows how strong you are. Not many people could do that, watch their parent die. It's not something to be taken lightly but you were able to go through that. And look at you now." he smiles, kissing your cheek.

"Actually." you shake your head. "Can I tell you a secret? Well, it's not a secret. It's just embarassing and I never told this to anyone before."

"You can tell me anything, my flower." Hyunjin nods.

"I didn't come back here because of my mother. I came back two months before she fell ill." you swallow as Hyunjin listens intently. "I came back because my heart was broken, because I felt abandoned and I couldn't deal with it. I couldn't deal with the harshness of the city and the people at my university and the person I was dating. So I came back here and that's why I always think I am weak." you admit, a weight lifting off your chest as you take a deep breath in, waiting for Hyunjin to say something.

A single tear slides down your cheek before you turn to look at him and see the fond smile on his face.

"That again doesn't make you weak, my love. You recognized the toxicity of the situation and you left it before it could destroy you completely. You fled to the island just like I did. I didn't think of myself as weak, rather someone who wanted to find and keep their inner peace. That's why we're similar and why I understand what you did. Don't beat yourself up over that, I think it all turned out well now, don't you?" he chuckles, pinching your cheek for a moment and you let out a giggle.

"It did. Sorry I never told you this before."

"You told me now." he shakes his head with a smile before wrapping his arms around you and holding you.

"Hey, it's like Titanic!" Hyunjin exclaims suddenly and you laugh as he grabs your arms and lifts them up.

"I would never let you die in the freezing water." you quickly say as you look back at him.

"I know you wouldn't." he smiles before kissing you gently. "My rose." he adds, wiggling his eyebrows at you and you chuckle, smacking his chest.

Feeling elated, now you can't wait to finally arrive to the city.

-

The moment you step foot onto the city's pier, it's clear how different it is.

There are so many sounds, so many people rushing around you, so many cars in the distance, huge buildings creating a familiar skyline.

"I texted Elsie earlier so she will pick us up." Hyunjin announces as the two of you walk further away from the ship and towards the cars lined up and waiting.

"Okay." you nod.

Elsie was a friend of Hyunjin's who he left his gallery to tend to while he was on the island after the whole ordeal with Charlie.

You didn't know anything about her except that she went to the same academy as Hyunjin and was an artist herself, though she worked as an art critic more than a painter.

"There she is!" Hyunjin's face lights up as he waves and you follow his eyes until they landed on Elsie.

You gasp a little, never knowing just how beautiful she is, tall and slender, her hair long and shiny, her face like a model's, her clothes expensive.

She looked like a million bucks and you suddenly felt a pang of jealousy in your stomach.

Even now after all this time of being with Hyunjin, sometimes you'd wonder what he saw in you, your insecurities getting the best of you and almost convincing you that you're not worth it.

And now seeing this gorgeous woman hug Hyunjin, made you realize you could never compete with someone like her.

"Ah, my favorite artist is back!" Elsie taps Hyunjin's shoulder as he chuckles.

She turns to you as you stand awkwardly on the side, waiting for them to finish hugging.

"You must be y/n." she says, making her way to you and unexpectedly wrapping her arms around you.

"I'm so happy to finally meet you. Put a face to the name. Hyunjin yaps about you all the time, so much so that I couldn't wait to meet the woman who stole his heart." she leans back, smiling at you enthusiastically. "And I understand now. You're really beautiful and coupled with what he told me about you, you're the perfect match."

God, she's even nice.

"Oh." you blush. "Thank you."

"Let's go then, I'll drive you two lovebirds to the gallery." she motions for you to pile your bags into the car, before both of you sit in the back.

Night starts falling over the bustling city, but it's not turning it into contemplative quietness like on the island, quite the opposite actually.

At night time, the city seems even more alive.

As Elsie starts driving, her and Hyunjin fall into conversation, reminiscing of memories you aren't a part of, you opt to stare out the window.

The flurry of lights pass you by, so many cars speeding up next to yours, people on the street acting like it's the middle of the day as they walk around, dressed flashy and probably going to some party as they laugh and hug, some house music pumping through the car's speakers; so many overwhelming things that they hurt your brain and you close your eyes.

Hyunjin notices and grabs your hand.

"We're almost there." he whispers and you nod, looking at him briefly before turning your attention back to the outside world.

You almost get so lost in your thoughts that you don't even notice the car had stopped and Elsie opened your door.

"We're here." she chuckles as you come to your senses and finally get out of the car, seeing Hyunjin taking out your bags.

You stare up at the huge building where Hyunjin's gallery resides in, his apartment now only a few floors above it.

"Well, I'm sure you two want some time alone. But please, hit me up this week, I soooo need to take you both out to dinner and pick your brains." she says before tapping Hyunjin's cheek and waving at you.

You can't help the jealousy that tugs at your heart strings.

You had no idea how close they were and it seemed to you now that they were pretty chummy and he never told you about it.

You'd never doubt Hyunjin's devotion to you, but sadly you always doubt yourself.

"Is something wrong, my love?" Hyunjin asks as you stop in front of the entrance to the building.

"No, everything's fine." you force a smile and Hyunjin squints his eyes at you, not believing it for a moment.

"I'm just tired." you say as Hyunjin swipes his card and the door buzzes.

"Well, the bed in the apartment is very cozy." he smirks at you, wiggling his eyebrows and you let out a little chuckle.

"You wanna go there first or the gallery?" he adds as you walk into the elevator.

"I really wanna see the gallery." you smile and he nods, clicking the button as the elevator doors close.

You're quiet, trying to come up with a way to ask Hyunjin about Elsie but you're not even sure what you are trying to find out.

"Here we go." Hyunjin leads you to a big glass door before he puts in a combination and you hear a click, signalling that the door is unlocked.

As soon as you walk in and Hyunjin turns the lights on, a gasp leaves your lips.

Yes, you've seen some pictures of the gallery but actually being inside it, seeing Hyunjin's works of art hung all over the walls, hours of his hard work on display for people to admire, his heart on the canvas in shapes of flowers and you, filled you up with warmth and love.

"So, what do you think?" he asks, wrapping his arms around you, his lips on your neck.

"It's beautiful, Jinnie."

"Mhm, I like it even better now that you're here, flower. You're the most beautiful work of art amongst all of them. But only for me to look at." Hyunjin smirks into your skin before nipping at your sensitive spot.

Before you can melt into his embrace completely, you need to get one thing out of the way; Elsie.

"So, how close are you and Elsie?" you slide out of Hyunjin's arms and pretend to look at one of the paintings more closely.

He smirks behind you, knowing exactly why you're asking that.

"Is my sweet rose jealous?" he almost skips towards you with a goofy smile on his face and you can't even pretend to be mad at him.

"No." he narrows his eyes at you. "Yes." you sigh.

"Oh, y/n." Hyunjin chuckles before grabbing your face. "You do know that you're the only woman that exists to me? Elsie is like a sister to me. We're close like that, nothing else. She also has an amazing husband who she's been dating for years, and we're probably going to meet them for a double date at least once this week. You've nothing to be jealous about, I'm only yours." he talks, leaving gentle kisses on your face.

A sigh escapes your lips.

"I know, I'm not doubting you. I just get insecure. I'm sorry I'm like this, always ruining everything." your eyes water.

"You didn't ruin anything, my love." Hyunjin smiles gently at you before leaning in to kiss you again. "You could never. You can only make everything more beautiful." he says between kisses and you slowly start melting.

"You're so biased." you chuckle against him.

"So be it." he whispers before devouring your lips, his hands gripping your waist and pressing your body against his.

"Baby, are there cameras here?" you chuckle when he starts kissing your neck, your fingers tangled in his hair, playing with the ends of it.

"Yeah." he licks at your skin before sinking his teeth in.

"J-Jinnie, someone will see." you gasp, gripping onto him as he sucks a love bite into your skin.

"No, they won't, I already made sure they turned them off for the night." he smirks before leaving kisses on your collarbone.

"So, you planned to seduce me in here?" you chuckle as he presses you into the wall, right next to a painting of you.

"Damn, you caught me." he jokes and both of you chuckle.

"In all seriousness, you know I love you forever, right?" his eyes become big, sweet, full of emotion as they search yours.

"I know, Jinnie. I love you forever too." you smile and kiss him, the sweet and innocent kiss escalating slowly into a more passionate one, tongues clashing into each other as Hyunjin leads you to the couch in the middle of the gallery.

It looks expensive and has two sides, one turned towards the art pieces and one looking towards the city, the huge glass windows with all the buildings on display, the lights in the distance twinkling like stars, promising something good to whoever stares at them for long enough.

You think he's gonna lay you down on it but instead he makes you stand in front of it, the side overlooking the city, before he slowly kneels down.

"My muse." his hands roam on your thighs, sliding under your dress before he bunches it up above your panties.

Your breath gets caught in your throat as Hyunjin leans in, kissing your clothed clit and taking a deep breath of you in, his eyes fluttering shut, cheeks rosy instantly.

He grips your leg and hooks it on his shoulder before leaning in again, and your pussy clenches around nothing as his breath hits your warmness.

You grab onto his hair for leverage and he whines into you, pushing your panties to the side and burying his tongue inside you.

He laps you up, always hungry for more, never tired of tasting your sweet juices on his tongue as he holds you steady, gripping your ass as you shiver and grind gently against him.

"H-Hyunjin!" you whimper when he sucks on your clit before diving back between your folds, pushing as deep as he could, his tongue moving inside you wildly.

You look up from his flushed face and dark eyes to see the city before you, feeling like every single soul that was awake could see you now, see how you were falling apart just from your lover's tongue and it made you even more wet thinking about it.

Gripping his hair harder, you fuck yourself against his lips and nose and Hyunjin whines into you, letting you use him for your pleasure as your high pitched moans echo off the walls of the gallery.

You throw your head back, gasping when you notice the huge mural painted on the ceiling, you and Hyunjin together in a garden full of blooming flowers, making love to each other, the petals hiding your private parts.

"Fuck!" you whimper, grinding against him faster before the coil snaps and you explode all over his face.

"Mm." Hyunjin moans into you, licking your juices up as he smirks.

"I take it you like my main piece." he leans back with a satisfied smile, his tongue darting out to lick at the droplets of your pleasure all around his lips.

"I- I'm speechless." you gasp, your ears ringing as you come down from your high, still looking up at the ceiling.

Hyunjin stands up and grabs your chin gently making you look down at him.

"Me too." he kisses you hungrily and soon both of you stumble but Hyunjin catches you as he smirks and grabs your hands.

"What are you doing?" you chuckle confusedly as he takes you over to the other side of the couch, the one turned towards the paintings.

"I want you to have a pretty view of the city." he says and before you can ask what he means, he pushes you down onto your knees, bending you over the backrest and making you look towards the huge glass windows.

"Oh." you whimper when his fingers slide against your wet folds, his other hand freeing his length out of his pants before he replaces fingers with his cock.

"My lovely muse." he whines as he pushes in and you grip onto the backrest, gasping as he slides in easily. "My only rose. I love you so much." he pushes his entire length into you, taking your breath away.

"I love you so much, Jinnie." you moan as he hovers over you, fucking you slowly.

Your eyes roll back, fluttering shut as the familiar stretch of him burns a little, giving way to pleasure as he keeps dragging his cock against your velvety walls faster, making you wetter by the second.

His hands roam freely on your body, wrapping around you to cup your breasts and you arch your back, chasing his touch.

Hyunjin groans when he sees you like that, his hips pounding into you faster as you kneel and take it.

"You're clenching so much around me, my flower. Let go for me." he fucks you harder as you keep whimpering, your eyes opening to stare out the window, all the lights becoming blurry as pleasure starts overtaking you.

"Ah, J-Jinnie!" you moan loudly as you let go, cumming around his cock and he grips onto you, his hips snapping against you while you count all the stars, your body shaking under him.

"Y/n!" he moans you name out as he spills inside you, riding his high and filling you up with his warm liquid.

Hyunjin pulls out of you, collapsing onto the couch and pulling you against his body as he wraps his arms around you.

Your breathing is heavy as you hold onto him, nuzzling as close as you can and you look up at the ceiling again as he giggles.

"When did you paint that?" you ask.

"The first time I had to leave after we opened up our gallery in Isaac's house." he answers and you look at him.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted to surprise you when you come here. I'm glad I never told you to look up. You did it just in the right moment." he teases with a smirk and you giggle, biting into his arm and making him yelp before he laughs at you adoringly.

"Why don't we go upstairs and wash up? Are you hungry?" he asks.

"A little bit." you nod as you sit up.

"We can order, I don't really have groceries here." Hyunjin chuckles and you nod, kissing him shortly before you get up and make your way up to the apartment.

It's a small one bedroom apartment, enough for when Hyunjin comes here alone to promote his new work or the works of a fellow artist who he represents.

You can see it's not too lived in but there is a touch of Hyunjin to it, as well as a touch of you.

Noticing photographs of the two of you together framed on the shelf makes your heart warm up as you smile.

"I look at them when I miss you." he pouts, giving you a quick peck.

"You're cute." you giggle.

"I know." he scrunches up his face and you laugh.

You leave for the bathroom first, stripping before you step into the shower, adjusting the water while Hyunjin orders some food.

He joins in shortly, throwing his clothes haphazardly on the floor just so he can jump in as quickly as possible.

You squeak when his cold hands grip onto you and he chuckles.

"Sorry, baby." he says, still he presses himself into your warmed up body.

"Cold." you gasp a little as he buries his face into your neck.

"You know, I read that transferring body heat helps warm you up quicker so I have to stick to you like this. You don't want me to die from the cold, right?"

"You will not die." you roll your eyes playfully, still your arms wrap around him to keep him close to you.

The shower turns more into a fun time than a regular shower as you wash each other's hair and sing a duet, your giggles echoing in the small space.

After getting dry and warmed up, the food arrives and you eat in Hyunjin's living room, again the view feels huge as you scan the buildings.

"Would you ever wanna live here again?" you ask as the two of you eat, sitting close to each other.

"My honest answer? No. I love being on the island with you, it feels more like a home than any other place I lived in. I got used to the limited space there, like here everything seems so big and so wide, like you can go anywhere and do anything. When in reality it is not like that. The island might be small, but every single part of it is beautiful and filled with memories. I wouldn't trade that for anything." Hyunjin smiles wistfully.

"But, if you want to move here I would for you." he adds, his hand on your knee as he caresses you gently.

"That's sweet, Jinnie but I think the city is too much for me. I don't mind visiting, but I love being on the island. It's comforting and familiar, and I love having you there." you smile.

"Mhm then you wanna keep me there forever, right?" he leans in closer as you finish eating.

"Yes." you chuckle.

"I don't mind being your prisoner forever." he shakes his head with a cute smile and you laugh, carding your hand through his hair as he plops his face into your chest.

"Is that how you feel? Imprisoned?" you tease and he whines into you.

"That is not what I meant! I was trying to be romantic like you stole my heart forever and now I can't go anywhere-"

"Okay, okay, I get it, I was just teasing you a bit." you smirk, making him whine again as he nuzzles his face between your breasts.

"Cuddle me." he pushes his body closer to yours and you wrap your arms around him, merging your bodies together in the warmness of the small apartment.

You go to bed shortly, excited to explore the city, experience something new with the one you love; the jitters making you shiver in anticipation for tomorrow.

But for now, you relish in the sweet and familiar feeling of tangling up with Hyunjin under the sheets as he holds you close to his loving heart.

As you open your eyes the next morning, you panicked for a second, not recognizing your surroundings until you remembered that you came to the city with Hyunjin, and are now laying on his chest safely.

Taking a deep breath in, you look up at him and instantly melt when you see his messy hair and cute sleepy face as he still dreams about who knows what.

You bury your face in his neck, kissing his soft skin gently, getting yourself worked up just from his warmth and his familiar comforting scent.

He doesn't wake up immediately, not until you bite into his skin, sucking on it and creating a pretty mark on your lover.

"Mm... Darling." he groans, his voice deep and laced with sleep.

You continue kissing him, thankful that he slept shirtless as your lips traveled down to his collarbone and chest.

"What are you up to?" he chuckles as you keep kissing lower, a tent appearing in his boxers as his cock strains against the material.

"Nothing." you wink, your lips now closer to his middle.

"Really?" he tries to sit up but you lift up quickly, grabbing his wrists and he lets you pin his hands on either sides of his head.

You throw your leg over him, pressing your core against his hardness and he gasps quietly, his hips lifting up towards you already.

"You said that you're my prisoner." you say and he smirks, letting out a little giggle.

"I am." he nods.

"Then just stay like that and let me do what I want with you."

"Of course, my flower." he smiles as you lean down to kiss him before returning back to your original position.

You lay your hand on his bulge and squeeze slightly before you start palming him.

"Mm, y/n. My love." he whines, pushing up into you and you smirk, leaning in to kiss him through his boxers, noticing a little wet patch appearing on them.

Your fingers circle his head and he whimpers, almost begging you to remove the obnoxious fabric as he grips onto the sheets below him.

You give him a little smirk before you bite into his inner thigh, making him jolt and moan, his cock twitching under your hand.

Deciding you were done teasing him for now, you hook your fingers in his boxers and slide them off, his leaky cock slapping his abs as you free him.

Hyunjin's eyes become darker as you lick at his tip, lapping up the pre-cum before you give him a little kiss. He observes you as you start leaving kisses on his cock, teasing him with the gentleness of your lips, pressing them into his vein, your tongue darting out to lick at his length a few times, all the way down to his balls.

"Trying to kill me?" he pants and you giggle before lifting up.

"A little." you smile before leaning in towards his tip again, swirling your tongue around him as you take him into your mouth, sucking lightly.

"F-flower, ah!" Hyunjin's fingers tangle in your hair as you tease him, the tip of your tongue playing with his sensitive underside and dipping into his slit.

His patience starts to run low, he's more desperate and sensitive than usually in the morning, and he wanted to feel you wrapped around him.

His fingers gripped your hair harder, quiet moans escaping his lips and you let him push you down a little as you took more of him in.

Gripping his thighs, you started to bob your head up and down, your eyes fluttering closed as you savored the taste of him.

Hyunjin shivers, keeping his eyes on you, your pretty lips wrapped around him, taking him in so well, always so sweet and so giving for him.

"Fuck!" he groans when you squeeze his balls, looking up at him sweetly as you continue your ministrations, taking more of his length in until his tip hit the back of your throat, making you gag a little.

"Be careful, flower." he smirks a little, teasing you, he knows you love when he fills you up like that.

You hum around him, sending vibrations through his core and making him twitch as you keep sucking on him like your life depended on it.

The more you sped up, twisting your tongue at the top, massaging his balls in tandem with your mouth, the more desperate he became.

His legs started shaking, he was a babbling mess as he started fucking up into you, meeting your movements while you gagged on his length.

"C-close!" he whimpers and you speed up, determined to make him explode in your mouth.

He repeats your name like a prayer, louder and louder until he finally twitches inside you, spurts of his warm cum painting your throat as you keep swallowing everything he gives you.

"Wow." he gasps as you lift up, making you chuckle.

"Was it good?" you tease and he laughs breathlessly.

"Perfect." he says, his hands gripping at your hips as he brings you closer to him.

"We should get up." you warn and he lets out an incredulous laugh, throwing his head back, his hair splayed cutely around his head on the pillow.

"You think I'm gonna let you get up without returning the favor?"

"Oh, that." you giggle.

"Yeah, that." he pinches your ass, making you jolt and squeal before he hooks his fingers in your panties so you lift up a little, helping him take them off.

"Aren't you and Elsie meeting with some clients?"

"They can all wait. My beautiful girlfriend needs me." he smirks, his fingers sliding against your wet folds.

"H-Hyunjin." you moan.

"Come up here." he motions towards his face and you blush profusely.

You've always been a little embarassed about sitting on his face, feeling awkward to do so but Hyunjin assured you every time that he loved it.

"Are you sure?" you ask.

"Positive." he smiles as he holds your hand, bringing your palm to his lips.

"Okay." you whisper, scooting closer to his face before you hover over him.

"Relax, my love." his arms slide around you, gripping your ass and slowly pulling you down closer to his face.

You close your eyes, grabbing at the headboard as his tongue swipes over your folds a few times making you clench around nothing.

His lips wrap around your clit and he sucks, making your legs shake and squeeze around him.

Hyunjin moans into you, flattening his tongue and slowly moving you against it as he grips onto you.

Your mind becomes dizzy quickly and you start moving on your own, grinding against his tongue and nose languidly as more arousal keeps dripping down onto Hyunjin's face.

His eyes flutter closed and all the embarassment you feel keeps being replaced with the growing pleasure inside you as you keep fucking his face.

His hands massage your ass as he keeps moving you against him, so you move faster as you keep holding onto the headboard for dear life.

Your moans become louder and louder as Hyunjin pushes his tongue into you and starts moving it, tasting you and playing with you, swallowing all your wetness.

"J-Jinnie!" you whimper loudly, your thighs pressing around his head as you snap, spilling all over his lips and face.

His nails dig into your flesh as he holds you down, lapping your juices up and your body trembles from overstimulation as you try to move away.

Hyunjin doesn't let up until he cleans you up, his face flushed and wet when you move away.

"Sorry, w-was that okay?" you feel the embarassment seep in again as he looks at you wildly.

"Baby, I don't think we're leaving the bed yet." he smirks and before you can protest he's already grabbing your waist and pulling you down as you squeal.

Hyunjin has been sitting in the meeting room for almost an hour, constantly glancing at the clock, his mind only on returning to you.

He had promised to take you out on lunch but the people participating in the event had so many ideas to discuss that the meeting just kept dragging on.

His leg kept bouncing up and down as he bit on his lip and nodded at the man sitting before him.

"You're creating an earthquake, Hyun." Elsie leans into Hyunjin's ear.

"Oh. Sorry." he chuckles quietly.

"I know you wanna go back to your darling as soon as possible so try to concentrate now and we'll be done sooner." she reminds him and Hyunjin nods, quickly getting himself together, getting back into the groove of the discussion.

As Elsie predicted, the meeting ended succesfully and quickly after that, the event was all but ready minus a few minor details.

After they saw the clients out, Hyunjin turned to Elsie with his eyes big, his hands clasped together in a pleading position.

"Oh I know that face. What is it now?" Elsie chuckles, knowing he's about to beg her for help.

"I need you to do something for me and y/n can't find out. Will you please?"

"As long as it's legal, of course. Eh, who am I kidding, I'd probably help you hide a body if it came to that." Elsie jokes and Hyunjin laughs.

"Thank you, you're a life saver!"

-

"I'm sorry I'm late!" Hyunjin runs into the apartment, finding you in the living room, reading your book.

"Oh, no it's okay. I was entertained." you smile, waving your book shortly and Hyunjin chuckles breathlessly before skipping towards you and leaning down to press a few sweet kisses to your lips.

"Are you hungry?" he asks and you nod.

"Yes, I'm ready to eat."

"Okay, well there is this restaurant here that I used to go to a lot and the food is amazing so I wanna take you there." he says excitedly.

"Should I dress fancy?" you get up and Hyunjin chuckles, his arms wrapping around your waist as he brings you closer to him.

"It's not too fancy." he answers, kissing your jaw.

"Alright, casual fancy." both of you chuckle as you leave to get ready.

Hyunjin paces the living room while he waits, thinking of his request for Elsie.

A wave of excitement and fear runs through his body, giving him happy jitters.

You walk out of the bedroom after some time and Hyunjin's eyes soften as soon as they land on you.

"You look beautiful."

"Thanks, lover. You too." you smile as he leans in to kiss you.

Hyunjin takes his camera, ready to capture the beautiful memories the two of you are about to create in the city.

Your afternoon is filled with new sights, completely different than your little island, where you know every nook and cranny, every piece of earth your feet have touched, every detail of it so dear to your heart and so deeply etched into your mind that you could walk it blind.

It's exciting, the restaurant, the huge buildings, the flashing lights, the people, the city never sleeps, it's the same during the day and the night.

Hyunjin snaps so many pictures that you've lost count of them, his cute happy face making your heart beat faster.

But the excitement slowly starts turning into exhaustion as you keep venturing further into the heart of the city.

Hyunjin, always so perceptive when it comes to you, notices your sudden quietness so he takes your hand and slowly leads you away from the crowd to a park near by.

You find a somewhat quiet bench, some guy playing the guitar and singing not too far away, creating a romantic atmosphere as the two of you sit down.

The sun is already almost gone behind the horizon as your eyes roam around the sky, the beautiful swirls of purple and pink giving way to the darkness slowly creeping in.

Hyunjin wraps his arm around your shoulder, bringing you into him.

"Are you having fun?" he asks with a smile.

"Mhm. I am."

"Love, you can tell me if you're not. I'll call a cab to take us to the apartment immediately."

"No, no, I'm enjoying being outside. It's just that we saw so much today so I'm processing it." you chuckle and Hyunjin giggles.

"Sorry for dragging you everywhere." he smiles sheepishly and you lean in to kiss his cute dimple.

"It's fine. You're so cute when you get excited. And it's only fair that you show me everything as the designated tour guide." you tease.

Hyunjin laughs, briefly reminiscing how you were the tour guide on the island, showing him all the places you found beautiful.

"Let me take you to one last place and then we're done, I promise."

"Lead the way." you smile and after a 20 minute walk, Hyunjin and you arrive in front of a huge building.

"What is it?" you ask.

"You'll see." he leads you behind the building, holding your hand as you walk together.

The back of the building is almost all glass but what captures your attention the most is an exhibit of different art installations.

You lean in to look closer as Hyunjin stands next to you.

"This is the academy I attended." he starts and you look at him.

"Oh." you gasp.

"This is where I spent so much time being scrutinized for every little detail in my art. In a way I'm thankful cause I learned so much. But I often asked myself what was the purpose and at what cost? It almost crushed my soul, and all for that-" he motions towards a painting on the wall, one of a face you don't recognize, "to be on display for everyone."

You may not recognize the face but you recognize Hyunjin's brush strokes.

"I hate that painting." he says quietly.

"Who is that?" you ask.

"Nobody. I made him up in my mind. He's just a no one." Hyunjin's shoulders tense and you're quick to put your hand on his back, gently caressing him to soothe him.

It works instantly as he melts into your touch.

"I-I'm sorry. I don't wanna ruin the mood, I just wanted to show you where I spent lots of time. I sat there a lot." he turns to point at one of the outdoor tables. "Would doodle in my little sketchbook. I made the dumbest drawings in those, just to have some kind of outlet where I could feel like I was in charge, not just doing something that someone else told me to."

"So it was like a diary. Like mine." you remember showing him your sketchbooks when you just met. "You never showed me those."

"My mother found them and she threw them away." he sighs sadly and you lean on him.

"I'm sorry." you whisper.

"It's okay, it's in the past plus I can paint whatever I want now." he smiles and leans in to kiss you gently.

Sharing a kiss with you right in front of the academy feels surreal to Hyunjin, especially when he looks back at it with a pinch of bitterness, remembering the sleepless nights and his mother's sinister words.

"I'm glad we did this." Hyunjin squeezes your hand as you sit in the back of the cab.

"Me too. You gave me a new perspective on the city."

"Yeah, I think we created some nice memories here. It feels better." he agrees.

"Definitely does." you nod.

The next day, Hyunjin took you to another restaurant which was a bit more fancy, something you've never experienced before, making you feel a bit awkward.

Elsie and her husband Peter were already waiting at one of the tables, Elsie waving enthusiastically as soon as she spotted the two of you.

She hugged both of you and after shaking Peter's hand, you sat down and took in the view.

The restaurant was in a building, high up and looking over the city, making all the buildings, cars and people look like Lego pieces from up here.

Most of the food you couldn't even pronounce but Hyunjin was there to recommend you something tasty.

You thought it was going to be an awkward evening, but Elsie and Peter were both nice and you could see how Hyunjin was relaxed with them, having known them for years.

The conversation was light and fun, the food delicious and the wine was wonderful, creating a nice atmosphere around your little table.

Later in the evening, Elsie leaned in closer to you while Hyunjin and Peter conversed.

"I'm so glad Hyunjin decided to take a break on the island." she says.

"That makes two of us." you smile at her.

"He was different before he met you. Well, before he fell in love with you. I really thought he'd never find himself again, I was scared for him. He's really like the brother I never had and seeing him this happy with you makes me so excited for the two of you." your eyes almost tear up at her sincerity.

"Oh thank you, that's really nice of you, Elsie."

"Are y'all talking about me?" Hyunjin smirks.

"Always." you smirk back at him as he rolls his eyes playfully.

Falling back into the conversation, Elsie and Hyunjin start reminiscing their academy days, and hearing how he would sneak out to party just to spite his mother, things he did and said then was like a new side of him you've never known.

He told you a bit about it all before, but Elsie was determined to embarass him, at least a little.

"Remember that time you got so drunk and I had to drive you home? You puked all over my car." she laughs.

"It's not funny." Hyunjin blushes immediately, glancing at you shortly.

"It totally was. You were speaking nonsense. Ah, those parties were crazy. Remember that time we played truth or dare?"

"I do. Sadly." Hyunjin grimaces as you lean in curiously.

"It was nothing but we kissed." Elsie says and even though she already said she sees him like a brother, you felt a little weird that he never mentioned that.

"Ew. It was like I was kissing my sister." Hyunjin makes a disgusted face and she laughs.

"Would not do that again." she chuckles, before looking back at you. "I hope that didn't bother you."

"No, no, it was in the past." you say, a small smile on your face, but Elsie could see it was forced.

"Oh for god's sake!" she grabs your face and your eyes widen, before you can even say something she presses her lips into yours, kissing you shortly before leaning back, leaving you shocked.

"There. I kissed you both, now it's even." her husband laughs, shaking his head as Hyunjin rolls his eyes with a smile, his arm wrapping around you.

"Please, never do that again." he narrows his eyes at Elsie as she lifts her hands up in surrender.

"Thought it'd be fun. Sorry if it was too much, y/n."

"It's- it's fine." you chuckle quietly, feeling a bit embarassed about the whole situation.

The rest of the evening is uneventful and as soon as you arrive to the apartment, Hyunjin's hands and lips are on you.

"I can't believe she kissed you." he chuckles, his lips on your cheeks, his hands roaming on your hips and waist.

"She's a bit... extroverted?" you grimace, making Hyunjin laugh.

"You can say crazy. Cause she is. This is nothing compared to what she usually does, I think she was trying not to make you feel awkward. Which I appreciate, but I still didn't like that she kissed you. Your lips are mine only." Hyunjin cups your face, kissing you before you could even respond.

And he keeps kissing you as he slowly leads you to the bed, both of you falling down on it and never breaking the kiss.

Even though his exhibit was tomorrow, neither Hyunjin nor you got too much sleep, instead your time was spent in each other's embrace, your bodies moving lovingly into one another.

-

You're sleeping on your stomach when you feel Hyunjin's breath on your neck.

His hand lands on your waist, caressing you gently as his lips start traveling down your spine.

You flutter your eyes slowly before opening them and looking out the window.

From your position, you're looking right at the blue sunny sky, a few clouds floating by.

It's quiet and peaceful as Hyunjin keeps showering you with gentle kisses, his lips on your back, your shoulder, your neck and your arm.

He peeks at you and you giggle, making him giggle too before he brings his middle closer to you and you feel his hardness press against you.

"Again?" you chuckle in amusement, after last night's multiple rounds you had no idea how he still wanted you.

"What else do you expect, my flower? When you're so beautiful and loving, I need you close to me always." he caresses your hair, his lips on your neck as he slowly grinds into your backside.

"J-Jinnie. My love." you whimper when his cock slips between your thighs, grinding against your wet pussy.

"Stay like that." he grabs his cock and pushes into you easily, making you moan as you arch your back a little.

"I love you so much." he whispers into your ear as his arms wrap around you, his hips moving into you.

"I love you so much, Jinnie." you echo, grabbing his hand and entwining your fingers with his.

Hyunjin groans lowly into your ear, getting you more wet as his cock slips in and out of you, not giving you his entire length in this position but it's still a nice, satisfying stretch.

His hand releases yours to cup your breast and play with your nipple as you whimper, gripping at the bed while he moves a bit faster.

"You're mine forever, my love." Hyunjin holds you closer still, his hand traveling down over your stomach to your clit as he starts playing with it.

"Only yours." you moan out, your high building up.

Pictures start appearing in Hyunjin's mind, the two of you like this, always and forever, and his thoughts start racing, suddenly imagining something he never really let himself think about before.

His face and ears feel hot, followed by his body burning up and the wave of hotness rushes down into his already hard cock.

His heart starts beating fast as he imagines you carrying his child, the two of you bound together forever, creating something purely out of love.

"Fuck!" he curses, unexpectedly cumming before you as you gasp at the feeling of him filling you up.

"I'm sorry." he squeezes your thigh and you turn around to look at him, seeing his face is completely red, his forehead sweaty and his eyebrows twisted like he's struggling.

"Are you okay?" you reach out to touch his cheek and he melts into you.

"Yeah. Let me finish what I started." he chuckles sheepishly and you giggle as his fingers slide on your folds, gathering his cum and pushing it back in.

Your eyes flutter as you look at him and he wonders if you ever thought about that but for some reason he feels too shy to ask, scared to break the moment as he brings you closer to your edge.

"H-Hyunjin, so good." you whimper.

"Feels good, love?" he smirks, fucking into your sweet spot, making you feel like you're floating.

"Mhm, harder please." you grip onto him and he obliges, fucking into you harder until you squirt all over his hand.

The way he looks at you after, his lips opening and closing a few times makes you chuckle, your head tilting in curiosity.

"What is it, lover?" you sit up, carding your fingers through his hair.

"Nothing. I just love you more than anything." he smiles, making you melt on the spot.

"I love you more than anything too."

-

Despite your protests, Hyunjin takes you shopping after breakfast.

You kept telling him you didn't need anything, that you had everything you wanted and more but he kept reassuring you that it would be fun to walk around the shops and try on clothes, buy some new painting supples while you're at it.

And he was right, it was fun.

Hyunjin decided to find the silliest outfits and make a fool out of himself just to make you laugh.

He also brought you a few dresses to try on, lifting up a pair of lacy underwear too.

"Put that back." you smack his arm as people passed by you, your face becoming red.

"For the record, I think you'd look amazing in it." he smiles cheekily.

"Oh, would I?" you smirk.

"Definitely." he ushers you towards the changing rooms and of course follows you in.

"What are you doing?" you chuckle, putting the dresses aside.

"Helping you out." he smiles behind you, feigning innocence as you look at his reflection in the mirror.

"Mhm. Right. Go wait outside." you say and he pouts.

"I thought you loved me." he teases, sighing dramatically.

"Hyunjin." you narrow your eyes at him, not wanting to be thrown out of a fancy shop because the two of you couldn't keep your hands to yourselves.

"Fineeee." he whines, walking out so you can change.

"What about this one?" you walk out after trying on the last dress.

"It's perfect." he says, a lovesick smile on his face.

"You said that about every single one of them." you laugh.

"Well, because you're wearing them! We'll get all of them." he says and you quickly protest.

"No, please don't spend so much on me."

"Who else would I spend it on?" he says softly, caressing your face as he stands in front of you.

"But-"

"Please, let me do this. I wanna spoil you a little since we're here. It really makes me happy to do that."

"Okay." you give in as he looks at you with puppy eyes and pouty lips.

You kiss him before changing back into your clothes, then making your way to the cash register.

After paying for the dresses you make your way out, the amount of money makes your head spin but Hyunjin really seemed happy to do that, and it made you curious as to why he was so adamant about showering you with gifts when the both of you were into more simpler things, like cooking dinner together or a walk on the sunny beach.

After Hyunjin splurged on new painting supplies, you sat down in a cute café, ordering some cakes and coffee.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Hyunjin chuckles.

"Oh. I was just curious as to why you wanted to buy all those dresses for me. You know I'm happy when you're just next to me. That's the greatest gift to me, Jinnie."

"I know." he softens, taking your hand in his. "It's just what I always imagined when we come to the city. Taking you out shopping, it just goes well with the vibe here and it's not something we can do on the island. It's okay really, I don't care about the price, I'm just glad you found something you like." he adds the last part as you chew on your lip, not used to getting those kinds of gifts.

"Thank you, Jinnie."

"You don't have to thank me." he smiles, kissing your hand.

The door chimes, signaling a new customer coming in and as Hyunjin glances towards the door, you see his face contort.

His eyes widen, his lips pressing together before he frowns.

You look towards the door, staring at the couple who came in until realization dawns on you.

"Shit." Hyunjin curses under his breath, looking down at the table, boring holes into his half eaten pastry.

"Is that-"

"It is. I should've known. They used to bring me here a lot when I was younger." he says quietly, praying to whatever that they don't look this way but life usually does the exact opposite.

"They saw us." you say and Hyunjin's hand immediately flies to touch you, fingers squeezing around yours.

"Are they coming here?" he asks, his voice small and insecure.

You see his mother stare at him, her face that of a shock before going back to the cold expression she wore before. His father seemed to want to come closer but you could see how she held him back.

Her eyes then traveled to you and you mustered up the most murderous stare you could, throwing daggers at her with your eyes and she looked away, lifting her chin up like it was none of her business.

"They're... not." you squeeze Hyunjin's hand and he scoffs.

"Please, let's leave." his voice breaks along with your heart as you watch his eyes fill with tears.

"Of course." you quickly stand up, gathering your shopping bags, thankful you already paid as the two of you made your way to the exit as fast as possible.

Hyunjin is quiet the whole ride to the apartment, you can see him swallowing tears as he avoids looking at you.

You reach out to touch his hand and he moves it away.

"Don't." he whispers, shaking his head. "If you touch me, I'll fall apart." he adds quietly and you nod in understanding.

So as soon as you arrive back to the apartment, Hyunjin throws himself into your embrace, crying into your chest as you hold him and caress him.

"They really threw me aside. Even my father. Like I never meant anything to them." he sobs.

"I'm sorry, my love, I really am." your own eyes tear up as he squeezes you.

"It's not your fault."

"I hope you know you are loveable and I'd never leave you." you say as he looks up at you sadly.

You reach out to wipe his tears away and he smiles a little.

"I don't know what I'd do without you. Thank you for loving me." he holds you even tighter.

"Thank you for letting me love you, Jinnie."

"Someday... I hope we can have a family of our own." he looks at you hopefully and your face becomes hot instantly, butterflies swirling in your stomach as your heart skips a beat.

"I would love that." you whisper, caressing his hair and Hyunjin melts further into your embrace.

The afternoon is spent in each other's arms, soft kisses and touches slowly healing the damaged soul.

The promises that leave your lips are ones you intend to fulfill.

The last evening in the city is wrapped up with Hyunjin's collaboration with two other artists, their works displayed together on the walls of his gallery as people congratulate him.

He looks unreal in his suit, his hair neatly pulled back, his jewelry shiny.

You could hardly believe this was the same man who just cried in your embrace like a wounded child, yet here he was proudly showing off the beauty his heart held and captured on the canvas.

You couldn't be more proud of him, giddy with excitement as the evening progressed into a little celebratory party.

People stayed later than they should've perhaps, leaving one by one as the hours passed by until there was no one left but you and your beloved.

"Whew. That went well." Hyunjin stands by your side, wrapping his arm around your waist.

"I'm so proud of you." you tell him, making his heart swell with happiness and love.

"Feels good when you say that." he leans in, nuzzling against you. "Let's go upstairs, I wanna make love to you."

You giggle and let him lead the way, his hands impatient even in the elevator.

You kiss upon entering the apartment, bumping into furniture and throwing your clothes on the way to the bed.

Hyunjin lays you down gently, taking his time to touch you slowly, his pretty hands running all over your soft skin, squeezing occasionally as he looks at you like he's just seen you for the first time, like he's falling in love with you all over again.

Your cheeks become rosy as you lift your hands up to reciprocate, exploring his skin and muscles.

Hyunjin leans in to kiss you, worshipping your body with his lips until you're squirming for more, needy to have him closer to you, as close as possible.

Your legs wrap around him and he smirks before kissing you, the tip of his cock prodding at you.

"Hyun- please." you whisper against his lips and he grabs his length, slowly sinking into the familiar warmth of you.

"Y/n." he moans your name when you clench around him.

He starts dragging his cock slowly inside you, his eyes becoming teary.

"Are you okay?" you ask cautiously, gently taking his face in your hands.

"Never been happier. I need- I want- ugh." he buries his face in your neck and you almost chuckle at his sudden bashful behavior.

"Tell me what you want, lover." you coo at him.

"I want you to have my baby." Hyunjin says gently as he fucks deep into you and you gasp, clenching at his words.

"Please. I wanna have your baby, Hyunjin." you whimper, becoming incredibly wet at the thought.

"Ah, my flower." his cock twitches, his eyes suddenly squeezed shut as he grips at you.

"Gonna fill you up good, make you all full and round for me." he groans, pressing his forehead against yours, as his tip keeps kissing your cervix.

"P-please Hyunjin!" you go crazy at the thought of that, having a connection so deep with someone you love more than anything, being only his for the rest of your life makes your heart swell and your high approaches quickly as you clench around him and explode.

"Ah, gonna give you everything I have. Gonna make you a mommy." Hyunjin's hips stutter as your nails dig into his back.

"Yes, give me a baby Hyunjin, ah!" you whine, your eyes tearing up as he speeds up, chasing his high and quickly cumming at the thought of you being pregnant.

"Shit." he plops down on you and you giggle, holding him tight.

"Was that too much?" he asks.

"No, it's okay, don't worry." you smile, kissing his hair.

"I really do want that with you. I wasn't just saying it in the heat of the moment." Hyunjin says.

"I know. Me too." you say and he lifts up, hovering over you with a goofy smile on his face.

"You really wanna have my baby?" he asks.

"Yes, I really do." you nod, your heart still beating fast.

"How many babies?" he wiggles his eyebrows and you laugh, smacking his arm.

"Let's start with one and then we'll see." you smile and he chuckles.

"Okay but first I want to do something else once we get to the island." his eyes light up as he looks at you lovingly.

"What?" you ask and Hyunjin quickly shakes his head, sitting up.

"Not gonna ruin the surprise. You're gonna have to wait until we get there." he smirks, pinching your cheek and making you whine as you swat at his hand.

"Not fair."

"We'll be home tomorrow morning." he lays down next to you. "Honestly, I'm done with the city. I miss our little island and our home and our garden." he says, caressing your face as he turns to you.

Your heart flutters as Hyunjin calls your home and garden his too.

"Me too. I can't wait to go home with you."

And Hyunjin can't wait either, his heart exploding for the little surprise he begged Elsie to help him with.

He had planned it for some time, wanting to find the perfect ring for you, the thoughts of making you his wife running through his mind constantly ever since he moved in with you and started living on the island, his heart so full every day, so loved, held so preciously in your hands.

Hyunjin knows he wants to spend eternity with you, forever melting in your loving embrace, his mission to make you happy for the rest of time.

taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @porangporangmeong @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @laughatdanger @lixies-favorite-cookie @linavc @quokkacidal @thisaintredwine @m00gyu @yaorzu-blog @skzfelixlove @tajannah-price1 @puccaaak @aft2rsexs @xxkissesforchanniexx @aprilmaejune77 @lilmeowneow @stayjinnie @astrobebba @danihwang882 @kaysungshine @nchhuhi @1810cl @chartrucewhore @babigriin @jisuperboard @alisonyus @minluvly @instantsoulnight @kkamismom12 @its-stayville-forever @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @lemonadeboun @eastjonowhere @frehyun

[spookwriter-xo]

Coppélia

Chapter 7 - The Lion's Den

Chapter Summary - Y/N Is urged to meet with some of the other women involved in high society to gain some close friends and she decides to drag Mia with her. Y/N starts to realize the boys may not be as friendly as they seem.

warnings: mentions of murder, Seonghwa injures reader (MDNI)

Series Masterlist

It had been almost two weeks since I had started living with the boys. Yunho and Jongho were still pretty stand-offish, not really bothering to make conversation unless absolutely necessary. Yeosang however, had gotten better.

I figured he was shy from the start, but after I thanked him for filling my wardrobe he started asking simple questions like how my day was. It wasn't a lot, but it was progress.

Hongjoong and San had backed off a little, not actively seeking me out like the remaining three. Mingi, Seonghwa, and Wooyoung were a lot more social, Wooyoung would come and find me the second they'd come home during the workweek to tell me everything before I left for the Society, at least what he could tell me anyway.

Seonghwa's gifts hadn't stopped, however, they had broadened from simple Gardenias (Though he kept fresh ones on the dresser in my room for me). Mingi often played piano after dinner, sometimes, he'd play something from the show or past shows just to see me dance.

He always smiled so brightly when I would.

Seonghwa was the one who suggested I go to a ladies brunch over dinner. I'd glance around at the others who made no objection.

"Ladies Brunch?" I ask.

"All the women that our allies are involved with get together once a month for a ladies brunch. You should go." Seonghwa explains, bringing his fork to his mouth.

"Are there many?" I ask.

"Normally there's around 10 or 11, depending on who's available," Seonghwa says. "You could bring a friend if you like, maybe Mia?"

I nod at the mention of Mia. It would be good to see her again and catch her up on everything in person. Besides meeting other women, hopefully around my age, would probably do me some good. Maybe some of them could explain what the men actually did.

And that's why I agreed.

"You think any of them are like... Murderers?" Mia asks me as we sit in her family's limousine. "I mean, they're involved in families known to be involved in the mafia so.."

She wasn't wrong. After I had invited her, Mia had one of Marks's friends dig up some information about some of the women we'd be meeting. Jeno Lee was always pretty good at that.

Kazuko Takanashi was the fiancé to the CEO of the SVT Association, Choi Seungcheol. A large modeling and fashion company much like the one my father owned, their rival if you will. She was beautiful and worked as a model for their more expensive pieces. I assumed her husband-to-be would only allow it as such.

Park Minji was born into high society, her father running a car company. She was dating one of the leaders of SKZ Foundation, a military company, Seo Changbin. She didn't do much, but there were rumors that she was an excellent hacker.

Those were the only ones I could remember from the list, but I knew there were so many more. I recognized some of the companies, a little surprised some of them were still running.

We arrived at the club we were to meet at, one owned by the husband of one of the women we were to meet, Nari.

"Mia, don't say anything rude," I warn, getting out of the car.

"I'm not promising anything." She quips, following me.

We head inside, it's empty aside from the small group of maybe six women sitting at a long table, laughing and drinking already. I glance at Mia who looks back at me, gesturing with her head to go towards them.

I hesitate before approaching slowly. Kazuko was there, and Minji too. They looked so much friendlier in person. I clear my throat, causing one I didn't recognize to look up. She offers me a kind smile before standing.

"You must be Y/N!" She says, approaching the two of us. "And you're Mia Hua right?" Mia nods in response.

"I'm Kate. Come sit." She says, gesturing to some empty seats. "It's just us today, the others couldn't make it."

I take a seat beside Minji, her dyed blonde hair shimmering in the overhead light. Mia sits on my other side, shifting in her seat. Kate starts to introduce everyone, and my memory comes back to me; Minji, Jaehwa, Asami, Kazuko, Liv, and Kate herself. Easy enough.

I knew Asami was the oldest based on what I remembered. She was born into high society much like Minji however, she runs her own company, a tech company alongside a friend of hers, Taeyong.

Jaehwa was the younger sister of Nari, I knew she had joined the military for two years because she 'wanted to scratch an itch'. I could tell it paid off, her tan skin and muscular frame seemed oddly attractive.

Liv was a part of the TBZ Association, a law firm. I could tell she was studying me the minute I sat down, her eyes unmoving and unblinking as they stared me down. Like a predator hunting prey.

"So, ATZ Corp chose you huh?" Jaehwa asks, her voice deep. "I heard you're a dancer."

"Ballerina." I correct, noticing the quirk of Asami's eyebrow. "I'm a Ballerina for the Ballet Society."

Kazuko takes a sip of her drink. "I went to one of your shows, you're quite good." She says, glancing at me. There was something comforting about her words, yet I kept my guard up.

"What's the show?" Minji asks, her Australian accent thick.

"Coppèlia I'm pretty sure." Kazuko answers, leaning back in her seat.

"Never heard of it." Jaehwa says, elbow now propped up on the table.

I listen to the women talk. They seem friendly enough, and at least three of them are anyway. Asami looks at me before finally speaking.

"Something you wanna say?" She asks, her eyes boaring into mine. "If you have questions you can ask."

A part of me felt relieved she'd said that, opening a door for all the questions I'd had piled up to spill out. Kate gave me a reassuring look, nodding slightly for me to speak.

"I'm... It's been a long time since I've been in this life." I start. "It's all so different now.. And they guys won't tell me anything no matter how much I ask."

"It was like that for me too." Kazuko says. "I was born in the bronx. When I met Seungcheol, none of his friends or even him would tell me anything about what they did even though I grew up on the other end of it all."

I listened to her. These women had come from all different parts of society. Some are working their way up, and some are fighting to survive even now. Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea.

"When Seungcheol asked me to marry him, I told him no unless he told me everything." Kazuko continues. "Eventually, he caved when he realised I was serious."

"So I threaten them?" I ask.

"Definitely don't do that!" Liv laughs, finally speaking. Her voice was sweet. Maybe she was just shy. "ATZ don't take nicely to threats."

"So what do I do?" I ask.

"Ask us." Kate says, reaching a hand over. "We won't hide anything from you."

I nod, taking a deep breath before glancing at Mia, who seems a little too invested now.

"Be honest with me. Do they hurt people?"

"Obviously, it's the mafia." Asami says. "We have to kill to keep those close to us safe. Greed is evil, and those who let it consume them will always try to take what isn't theirs."

I stare at Asami, and the bluntness in her tone causes goosebumps to coat my skin.

"The boys kill, yes, but most of the time it's business or for protection reasons. There's some corrupt companies out there, ones that kill the weak for sport. Like Belluxe." Kazuko spits, my head snaps to her hefore quickly composing myself. My fathers company? Killing for sport?

"After everything that happened with Aurora, I'm surprised they decided to let another one in." Jaehwa says, causing me to perk up at the name.

"You knew her?" I ask.

"Of course we did." Liv says, her eyes softening slightly. "I miss her sometimes... She was always a voice of reason."

"She was a fool." Asami says. "Stuck her nose in something she shouldn't have. That's what got her killed."

My blood ran cold at Asami's words. Her tone was so indifferent, like she was angry.

Aurora was killed? Because she was investigating something? But what?

"Asami!" Kate scolds.

"It's the truth!" Asami barks. "Nothing would have happened if she'd just-" Asami stops herself and lets out a sigh before standing. "Excuse me." She mutters, heading off in the direction of the bathroom.

"You'll have to excuse her." Minji says quietly to me. "She cares a lot more then she lets on."

"Aurora was killed?" Mia asks. I'd spoken to her about Aurora the night of my first day living with ATZ. She was just as curious as I was.

"She was investigating some suspicious activity even when Hongjoong told her not to." Jaehwa says. "She got too far in and ended up getting herself killed."

"What was the suspicious activity?" I ask, glancing at Kazuko.

"Do you remember the Cobra?" She asks us. Mia and I nod. The Cobra was a serial killer who caused some grief to a lot of businesses years back. He'd kill runners, undercover workers, and sometimes even leaders in gruesome ways to get his message across. His tell; all of his victims were found with poison in their system.

"But The Cobra disappeared when we were kids?" Mia questions.

"He came back. Briefly." Kate says.

"Well, there were rumours." Liv corrects. "That's what Aurora was investigating."

Aurora was trying to catch a serial killer and was killed when she got too close? Why didn't the boys tell me this? Was there more to it?

"Enough about Aurora." Jaehwa murmers as Asami returns.

The topic shifted rather quickly.

It was almost 6pm when I returned back to the estate. Seonghwa was sitting in the living room, waiting for my return.

"How was it?" He asks, not looking up from the book he was reading, Frankenstein.

"Enlightening," I answer, my tone indifferent. I was upset at them. I'd learned more from women I'd just met in a few hours than the 8 men I had been living with for almost 2 weeks.

The girls had told me all about their work, giving me some idea of what was going on in the basement as well as outside of the house that I probably would never see.

Seonghwa recognizes my tone and sighs, marking his page in his book before setting it down on the coffee table. He stands, moving in front of me now, staring down at me with a cold look.

"How much do you know?"

"Enough," I answer, staring back up at him, I hear footsteps thud to a stop behind me, whoever it was listening closely. "Funny how I can trust complete strangers more than the men I'm supposed to be with."

"If you don't trust us, why did you come back?" The voice, Hongjoong, says from behind me. I don't jump at his voice, only turning to look at him. I had nowhere else to go. The answer was as simple as that.

On the second day of my stay, I woke up to all my things from my old apartment tucked away in the corner of my room. Wooyoung had gone to collect my things and speak to my landlord that night, at least that's what he said.

"You know why," I say, my blood boiling at the teasing grin on his face. Here we go again, being laughed at. Maybe I should have stayed at Mia's tonight.

"Dinners ready!" Wooyoung calls out from the other room. "Is Y/N home?" He asks, poking his head out from behind the connecting archway.

"You could have told me she was killed." I blurt out, my gaze on Wooyoung but my words are aimed at all of them. "Did you think I couldn't handle it?" I say, looking up at Seonghwa once again.

"They told you?" Seonghwa asks, his voice low.

"Yes, because unlike you they recognize that I can handle myself." I snap, poking his chest. Big mistake. He snatches my wrist, gripping it tightly. My eyes widen and I try and pull away, Hongjoong and Wooyoung make no move to step in.

"You listen to me," Seonghwa says, his voice coming out as a growl. The gentleman I knew was long gone now. There was something sinister in his eyes as he looked down at me, the size difference suddenly feeling a lot larger the tighter he held my wrist. "You won't ask any more questions about what happened. You will not go investigating it yourself and you certainly will not ask others. That includes our housekeepers." He says quietly, his voice low and threatening.

I glance at Wooyoung, his face void of emotion as he watches from the archway. Shit.

"If I find out you have, you'll never step foot from this house ever again. Say goodbye to Mia, the Society, everything." He warns.

"Seonghwa." Hongjoong finally speaks up. Seonghwa's knuckles are white from how tightly he was gripping my wrist. "Let her go. She's gotten the hint." Hongjoong says, taking a step forward.

Seonghwa lets go and I pull back, bumping into Hongjoong. I jump away from him, backing up into the foyer. I stare back at them with wide eyes, clutching my wrist as they stare back at me. A sick feeling overcomes me as I mutter out three words before scurrying up the stairs.

"I'm not hungry."

Mingi had come upstairs to check on me a few hours later. He carried a plate of food in his hands and his expression adorned a pouty expression. Surprisingly, I let him in.

He sets the plate of food down on my dresser before taking a seat on the loveseat by the window.

"Wooyoung told us what happened." He says, holding his hand out and glancing down at my wrist. I hesitate for a moment before letting him take it. His touch was gentle as he examined the light bruise, his eyebrows furrowing. "I didn't think Seonghwa would ever hurt you.."

"Yeah, me too." I huff, looking down at the ground. "I guess I was wrong to trust you all so quickly."

"Trust is human nature, it's who we gift it to that could come with consequences." He says softly, moving his hand from my wrist and holding my hand in his. I feel some butterflies flutter in my stomach as he does. "I'll beat him up for you tomorrow if you want." He says, causing me to snort.

"There's no need." I laugh, squeezing his hand which makes his eyes sparkle. At least I still had Mingi. I let out a soft sigh, moving to sit beside him. "Why are you guys so hesitant to tell me about her?" I ask, staring at the floor.

"Some of us want to," Mingi says honestly. "But it's a sensitive topic." He adds.

"I understand that," I say. "But that doesn't mean I'm not curious. Why can't I look into her death? I know it has something to do with The Cobra." I look at him and he looks at me.

"Why do you say that like it's personal?" He asks, his deep voice breaking through the brief silence.

I hesitate again for a moment. "Because it is," I say. Maybe if I'm honest with him, he'll be honest with me. But I didn't want to tell him the whole story, it hurt too much to even think about.

Then the realization hit me.

That's why they didn't want to talk about Aurora. It was too personal. It brought feelings to the surface that they wanted to forget about. It made sense now, and a feeling of guilt settled in my stomach.

Mingi must have picked up on my conflict of emotions, as he cups my cheek to bring me back to him.

"I won't stop you from finding answers." He says softly. "But that doesn't mean the others won't try. And I can't protect you if that happens."

I nod in response. It's like he knew already, my mind went back to the night we first met. He'd known I grew up in high society, did he know what happened to Chaluai?

"Thank you," I whisper, our faces not resisting the magnetic pull.

"For what?" He murmurs, not pulling away as he glances down at my lips.

"For understanding," I say as our noses brush.

Then, our lips met. The kiss was featherlike like he was scared to hurt me any further. When we pull away, he rests his forehead on mine briefly.

"Give them time." He says softly, stroking my cheekbone with his thumb. "They'll stop taking you for granted eventually."

With that, he stands, pulling away from me slowly as if a part of him was telling him to stay.

I watch him as he heads towards the door, offering him a goodnight before he shuts the door behind him, leaving me in the silence of my thoughts once again.

taglist @bellaptv @arilevenatz @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @hecateslittlewitchling @neuviloved @monstacheol @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone @vtyb23 @bigbabygremlin @professormingiglasses @pinuspot @astral-trashcan @ateezswonderland @joonhasjiminsjams @atzlordz @lightwxodd

[s-wave-entertainment]

Well, you asked-

For the record, I selected "too morally ambiguous to give an answer." I've thought really hard about J in the last couple of weeks (largely because my feelings about her after ep. 8 were so goddamn convoluted that I still don't know how I feel about her) and I've come to a couple of conclusions that ultimately end up in feeling... bad, for her. So hear me out:

J is a resigned antagonist.

She did bad shit, was extremely shitty to N, and definitely stood on the wrong side of history. But your honor, I have reason to believe she didn't necessarily want to.

The episode 8 exchange she had with V gave us some insight into her I think, particularly the lines "It tricked you! If I promised you anything, it tricked me too." And also "You know there's no escape, even in DEATH!" So offbthe bat, I assume two things:

1) J was initially under the belief that maybe they'll be returned to earth (assuming she didn't know that Earth was gone), or that they'll be spared if they did their jobs properly. Through prolonged interaction/possible dialogue, she probably began to realize that no, they weren't getting away with this, and she was being lied to/tricked. This leads to the second piece of knowledge:

2) I hesitate to think that J was just *okay* with helping the Solver, and tried to get away from it herself several times. But not following orders (refusing to kill) only hurt her by overheating, it didn't matter where she went on the planet because it could still find her, and even dying - to worker drone or uh. Otherwise - had her waking up right back under it's control, under its command. Finally acknowledging she had no way to run, no way to get away from it, she dropped her reservations and began to display the loyalty we see in her throughout the series.

Now I also have an additional headcanon here, so take this bit with a grain of salt, but in ep. 2, N claims that J "was getting orders from *someone.*" I'm sure at this point we all agree it was the Solver, but I argue that she didn't always know that. Me personally, I think all 3 disassembly drones suffered amnesia when they landed on C9. This has relevance, I promise, because if J was the head honcho and was receiving orders from someone, there's very few people I think she would just Listen To without having proof that they were somehow higher in command than her. The Solver could prove that by hurting her, yes, but we know that its main tactic isn't physical harm, rather manipulation. And with the knowledge that the Solver can impersonate voices to a t, I argue that so long as J was still under a degree of amnesia, the Solver could have been using Tessa's voice in J's head. This way J obeys without question; but eventually she put the pieces together that something was wrong, and yadda yadda yadda, already said this part. I also have a little analysis on J that I'm not quite sure how to reword (sorry bestie I'm cramming to try to finish assignments before my finals next week) but I do have the conversation where I tried to explain myself to my wonderful boyfriend, which I will place here for your consideration:

In conclusion, J was manipulated like the rest of them until she put the pieces together and realized that something wasn't right - but every time she tried to run, she just woke up right back at square one. Silently resigned, she decided to stand with the Solver in hopes of protecting herself. Maybe she got enjoyment out of it, maybe she didn't. I'm still figuring that part out.

Rb and all that jazz

[forever-once-gone]

Day 8: Taehyung - He Brings You A Gift, and a Smaller One for Your Baby Too

Part of the Love, Amour, Aur Pyaar drabble series for February! (lol)

Word count: 1.2k

Content and Warnings: gn! reader, husband!Taehyung, married au, parents au, just a lot of sweetness, your baby is cute too, not much else I guess

Author's Note: Another one for today cause I'm feeling nice lol. Let me know if you'd like me to post more. I mean, even if you don't I probably still will eventually, just may take me another few months lol.

You expected to wake up to your baby crying or at the very least babbling in his crib. That is how it’d been for the last odd months. Constantly waking up to baby cries and noises, leading to either you or your husband to get up and tend to him while the other tried to get a couple more minutes of shut eye.

But this time was different. You woke up to quiet. Complete and utter silence.

It took you a few seconds for you to realize that this was not normal. Not frequent for the past few months for you to wake up to dead quiet. But then you considered the fact that your husband wasn’t in bed with you either, and though (with a glance at your nightside clock ) it was still relatively early in the morning, Tae had probably taken the little guy downstairs to let you sleep. Still, you rose up from your bed for a second to confirm the crib was empty before reassuring yourself that everything was fine.

You took a couple minutes to cuddle back into bed, enjoying the subtle sunshine peeking out of the curtains. But despite the kind gesture, you couldn’t rest knowing that Taehyung was dealing with your baby all by himself for who knows how long. You knew Tae would yell at you to stay in bed longer, to rest, but you just couldn’t.

So you quickly freshened up in the bathroom before making your way down the stairs. Faintly, underneath the sound of the stairs’ creaks, you could hear your husband humming to his baby. You could hear short moments when he’d sing words aloud before switching back to humming once again.

Only when you reached the bottom step did Taehyung seem to notice that you had woken up, because that’s when his head whipped around to look at you over the back of the couch. The two of them looked too cute together in their night clothes.

His look of surprise settled quickly into a fond smile, shifting to look at you better as you made your way behind the couch. When you stood over him, peering down at him and your baby did he speak. “Good morning, baby.”

You pressed a kiss to his forehead with a hand against the back of his head before bending over the couch to press a kiss to the baby’s head as well. Tae had to raise him up so you could reach him without too much strain. “Good morning, cuties,” you replied, as you straightened back out, before circling the couch to sit down beside the two of them.

“How long have you two been up?” you asked as you rested your head on Tae’s shoulder, poking at your baby as he babbled happily up at you.

“Not too long.” Taehyung cradled the baby even closer to his chest.

You hummed affirmation. “Thank you for letting me sleep in again.”

“Like you even need to thank me, baby.”

“No, but still.”

Taehyung just wrapped his arm around you, pulling the both of you closer to him. “Well then it was my pleasure. Right honey?” he asked the baby. “It was a pleasure to be with appa for the morning?”

Your baby crinkled his nose happily in response with a sweet little smile and gurgle.

“You loved it with appa, huh?” you continued just for the little guy to screech in happiness which made the both of you laugh quietly before all three of you settled back into quiet.

The three of you sat there for a few minutes, basking in the warmth of domesticity. Glad to be able to spend the wee hours of the morning with the people you loved the most. What a simple but full moment.

“So…” you began. “You gonna tell me why the baby’s car seat is out?”

Taehyung tensed up beside you for a second before relaxing once again. “No reason.”

“No reason?”

“Nope.”

“Hmm… okay. Let’s ask the babe.” You picked the baby up from Tae’s hands and held him up in front of your face. “Did appa do something he shouldn’t have? Did he make plans to take us out today even though he knows all I wanted to do today was still home?”

Your baby didn’t snitch on his father, instead he began to grab at your face, pulling on your nose and attempting to poke out your eyes. 

“Wow, such an appa’s boy you are!” you teased as you settled him into your lap. He was sat with his back against your bent legs. The baby only screeched in response, trying again to grab at your face.

“Yes he is,” Tae bragged with a large smile. “You are, aren’t you?” Tae began to poke at his tummy, making him laugh again.

“But seriously, baby, if you planned to go out today, I really can’t. I’m too tired and just want to stay home.”

Taehyung just kissed your temple in response. “I know, baby. I know.”

He unwrapped you from his arms before jumping up from the couch with newfound energy.

“Tae?” you questioned.

“I’ll be right back!” He answered unhelpfully.

You began to protest only to hear the garage door open and close before you could manage even one world.

You got up from your seat to go see what the commotion was all about with the baby still cradled in your arms.

“What is your appa up to today, honey?”

The baby again didn’t snitch on his father.

What a traitor.

“Tae?” you asked, opening the garage door only for Tae to already be standing right behind it making you jump.

He stood there in his fuzzy slippers and large nightclothes smiling at you just a bit too wide for such an early morning.

“Surprise!” He pulled his hands out from behind his back to reveal two bouquets of flowers. One large one with a mix of white lilies and tiny daisies, and an identical smaller one. “Flowers for my two most favourite people in the world!”

“Oh baby, I love them!” You grabbed both of the bouquets with one hand the best you could. “We’ll have to do a mini photoshoot of the baby with the bouquet, don’t you think?”

Tae’s eyes glimmered with excitement. “That’d be too cute!” He began to walk past you towards the stairs as he rambled about how he had the perfect outfit to match the flowers.

But with Tae out of the way, you noticed a box sitting pretty on the hood of the car in the garage.

“Tae? Are you forgetting something?”

He turned back at you with furrowed brows, before he noticed your head nod towards the open garage door. A lightbulb went off before he was racing back to you.

“Oh right! I got you those pains au chocolat that you love this morning too!” He rushed to grab the box from the garage before running back into the house again. Whispering mischievously to you as he passed, “still warm! Hope you’re hungry.”

You bumped the garage door closed after him, before following the sound of his plans for dressing up the baby after the two of you had your breakfast. All you could do was hold your baby and flowers close as you hobbled after your loving husband, thanking the universe for blessing you so.

Aren't they so cute?

[batbabydamian]

The Boy Wonder #1 by Juni Ba rambling about why every time i open this book, i stare in wonder...HAHA and ofc!! how cute Damian is!!

Juni Ba’s style is so absurdly effective in telling a fairy tale for the ages. It’s a stunning blend of simplicity and complexity I'M GRIPPING THE PAGES AGAINST MY EYES…

Before getting into the interiors, THE COVER!! It associates autumn leaves to Damian's Robin title through the iconic cape shape/color; and on top of that, for a Robin going through a big transition in his life...a season of change one might say...Juni Ba your brain...

Damian and the leaves being the only colored parts of this cover is nice in focusing on those elements, but i also like to think by not coloring the background it prepares you to expect impressive inkwork in this book.

On that note, the interiors!! Starting off with Ba's backgrounds of Gotham as it establishes the strange new world that our young hero has been thrust into:

We get a neat tracking shot following a champagne glass that gives us a glimpse of Gotham from the upper echelons to the downtrodden in "Underwell"

This opening sequence quickly lays out the environment Damian will be traveling through in this series! It also sets the tone for some silliness with the cute zoom on the champagne glass before it BOKs the robber lol. Along with Ba's inks, O'Halloran's colors makes every part of Gotham pop - especially love the golds of the higher society shifting into the blues of the underbelly!!

Besides Damian’s personal conflict, Gotham feels like its own entity that he has to contend with. The dialogue speaks for itself, but within the art as well!!

"This city of ours swallows and crushes everything it can" -> a gargoyle's beak over Damian, crowds of people, and walls of advertising

"You've seen it too...the way it coils around one's mind from below." -> bridges and a passing train on a rail viaduct towering over a civilian

"A dark voice calling as if to say..." -> literally, "FEED ME"

LOVELY SHOT OF MOVEMENT... and i love how Damian's venture into Gotham opens with him passing a tree - its branches and leaves are the most organic element on the page before getting into the gritty details of the city! Some yammering because the inks are. so cool: the delicate lines of the leaves in the tree to the thicker/bigger lined ones closer to the camera on the right; the background inks allowing space around Damian's form + the fine line of his grapple!! More O'Halloran praise - PRETTY, and love his coloring over Ba's bg lines, particularly here, keeping the leaves darker on the right.

It's not only a pretty page it's just a really clean layout!! Ba exhibits this throughout the book but i really enjoy it here - from Damian nyooming, we head into these last 3 panels. his cute lil "Robin" shape easily draws the eye to the tops of the panels as we take in Gotham's liveliness alongside the lettering/narration

and the "Robin" shape?? SO CUTE. it's instantly familiar to us as Robin!! bold outline and filled with yellow...it's a Robin in movement!!...AN AUTUMN LEAF IN THE WIND... yeah, still not over that 😭

Damian's inciting incident is introduced in the former panel with a gorgeous backdrop of Gotham in the distance (plus itty bitty Trinity cameo haha). The shot parallels!! beautifully!! in the final page!! Damian is now in the depths of Gotham, his objective out of reach. The colors are of note too, where the familiar yellows of Gotham are suddenly a startling green after the demon makes its appearance. The Gotham land looks even more unfamiliar, which prompts Damian to seek help.

Some speculation, but the green could also be associated with the more mythical side of demons and such (like the ghost?? of the thief), but it could even imply there's a connection to the Al Ghuls themselves as it's the only other time green is so prominently used.

Now that the land of Gotham is established, popping in other fav bgs!

More lovely mix of Ba's inks and O'Halloran's colors!! especially allowing some of the brush/marker strokes to show faintly as part of the twinkling sky...STUNNING!! 😭 i love this whole page but this panel gets me weepy, SMALL DAMIAN IN THE VAST UNIVERSE COMBINED WITH THIS LINE "He knew he could be great. How unfair of the world to make him feel so small." KICKS MY ASS... i need to lie down

YAPPING AT MORE WONDERFUL INKING: the suggestion of windows offscreen from the frames casting these thick lines over the walls and stairwell; the minute shadow details over the railing; the hatching on the suits in the portrait; the framed portrait being its own panel!! cute hooded Damian in the gutter space looking in on the portrait/panel!! CUTE HOODED DAMIANS!!

SPEAKING OF PANELS, along with general effectiveness and efficiency, there's more whimsy in others!! like this kickass page of Nightwing whipping his escrima from first panel -> afterimage lines going POWPOWPOW hitting demons from a distance to ones closer to the camera -> and back into his hand!! IT'S SO GOOD AND SO FUN!!

Ba's action employs more diagonal panels, and characters are less restrained within boxes - there's more energy and freedom across the page!

not necessarily focusing on the action for this one, but THE WHIMSY!! the border itself is goop!! Also gotta point out that looming hammer shape!!

Nightwing's critical hit spans the entire page!! from silhouettes of a flip -> flashy stomping pose/Clayface -> to a distant shot of Dick landing

and a smooth finisher page!! love the motion lines on Dick's arms and waist + his head and arc effects popping outside of the borders; then the smaller panels for quick activity, and the final WOOB WOOB WOOB LOL i can hear this sound effect just as much as i can see it

Along with O'Halloran on colors, Aditya Bidikar on lettering works seamlessly with Ba's vision!! The text boxes for the fairy tale narration are like strips of yellowing pages from an old storybook!! Had to look up the term for this lol, but also reminiscent of those storybooks, there's even a use of "drop caps" - the big fancy capital letter!

Smaller things of note, but the bit of "Weakness" text from Ra's has a kind of. grandiose feel to it. Then the cute B< Damian behind the window!! Love how the bubble and text are faded behind the glass too! The end of the bubble tail is a nice touch as it matches well with Ba's bg inking :0

Otherwise, it seems Ba has done a majority of the lettering - dropping a couple of my favs below!!

also just this whole page: the very loud AAAH! text draws both Damian's and the reader's attention to the panel below!! it's a cool transition to a new shot where you can see Damian's silhouette on the building! The final panel is cartoony violence off-page through the bold POW BOOM SLAM haha + DAMIAN'S LIL FIST!!🥺 and the guy's tooth RIP

Pure speculation - Juni Ba's concept art included Carrie Kelley, so i'm wondering if the hostage in the beginning could be her and we'll be returning to this moment in time by the end. The worn Robin colors are similar to the design + their head is conveniently covered.

In terms of story, I'm obviously heavily biased, but the initial read got me rolling in emotions with how it has you caring for Damian. Damian as a character is so fantastical in essence - it’s part of his individual charm in the batfam cast! an heir of two kingdoms, born and raised with great expectations suddenly thrust into an unfamiliar land. he has a sword. he has a dragon bat for a companion. he is haunted by the sins he has committed. he is two apples tall. he's truly fairytale material!!

LIKE...past the panels of only his silhouettes, this is our introductory appearances of Damian. It's laid out clearly in the narration, but this parallel is SO GOOD: from the powerful and ornate visuals of Damian and the Al Ghuls -> to a simple panel of Batman's shadow behind a boy littered in scars, stripped of his home and status

Damian is out of his element and proves himself in the way he knows how!!

just kick me down a flight of stairs why don't you. i don't know which messes me up more, the top 3 or bottom 3 panels. His facial expressions!! his expectations for approval dashed!! Damian's hand reaching for his father!! only to be left alone with the body. The page after this is the final nail in the coffin in feeling just how lost he is in the world before he acts on it. And you root for him the entire way!!😭

Despite Damian's fanciful background there's so much heart to be shown in his struggles and discoveries - and this classic form of a fairy tale lays it out so brilliantly!! It's shaping up to be an amazing balance of heavier elements and whimsy based on this first issue, and it leaves you wanting more!!

Besides being a thoroughly enjoyable read, it's inspiring work!! i've ordered Juni Ba's other books to consume more of his storytelling, and here's the ones i've found so far if you're interested in checking them out as well!!

Mobilis: My Life with Captain Nemo

Monkey Meat

Djeliya: A West African Fantasy Epic

The Unlikely Story of Felix and Macabber

okay shockingly, i didn't blab about how cute Damian is as much as i thought i would, but i think the collage at the top speaks for itself lol

this is all you need to know how cute Damian is in this!! his cheeks are so pinchable, it was done on page!! 🥺 these panels obliterate me

[idiosyncraticrednebula]

The backlash against Frozen, which, from my observation, has cooled down (that isn't a joke, I swear-) quite a bit over the past few years, was less based on the quality of the movie itself and more on the fact that its massive success and reach really overshadowed a lot of other movies that came out prior to it and after it and was getting credited for stuff that had already been done before plenty of times, and in many cases, in those exact movies. This is why, to this day, many fans STILL refuse to give Tangled its props without trying to put Frozen down in some way. In their eyes, Tangled should have gotten the glory and accolades Frozen received, but did not, and that made them quite jealous. Overall, Frozen is far from a bad movie. It's a great movie with a great message, characters, music and does actually deserve the success and recognition it got, and some fans need to stop being so salty about it and uplift their fav movies without putting Frozen down so they get the proper appreciation they deserve as well. Although, yes, the credit this movie got for allegedly introducing themes, archetypes and tropes that had already been seen before in Disney, including movies set in a fairytale world with heroines as the protags, was undoubtedly the most annoying part about its success and is part of the reason why many tried to drag this movie and its main leads.

[tansyuduri]

@larluce Thank you for the tag and for the rec!!! You are amazing too! I can't believe I'm working on our second collab!!!! 1. How many works do you have on AO3? 31! 13 of which are Melin the rest are from YEARS ago.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

297,340

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently just Merlin. There is one dragon age fic I MIGHT eventually go back to but merlin for the forseeable future!

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? Fever Talk

Treat Me Warmly

Better Than Burning Merlin Enchanted (my first colab with Larluce)

Unthinkable All of these are what I tend to stick too for my fics that are below 40K+ Aka a mixture of fluff, Hurt/confort, angst, banter, whump, ETC with a happy ending. The next one would be one of my long fics XD

5. Do you respond to comments?

Consitering how happy they make me! Yes Every one!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I'll be honnest with you! It would be in my old fics for the Dragon Age Fandom and not Merlin. I tend toward happy endings for Merlin fics. Likely Forget me not or Good Boy

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Uhhhhhhhh UHHHHHHHHH UHHHHHH Well Most of my merlin ones have happy endings? If we're going least traumatized Um PERHAPS treat me warmly?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Oh not really hate but I got this one person commenting on my longfics that Merlin deserves better because arthur would go back to gwen if he could and that they don't like gwen. Like I'm sorry but my Arthur returns series is my love letter to the cannon version of the show in my mind. I'm not going to pretend Arthur never loved Gwen Even if the fic's main paring is Merthur, And even if I belive Gwen would be more likely to love Arthur but stay with the man she remarried (Who she also loved because In my mind she married again to a noble she loved for secrity AND LOVE because I want her to be happy in her life) and knew into old age in the afterlife.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I include sex scenes in longfics usually and if asked for a request. I do not think its what I am best at but I do my best!!!

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? NOPE!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

NOPE!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? I am borning and only speak english but I would never say no to this!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

with @larluce I'm actualy currently about to do my first edit of our second colab! 14. What’s your all time favourite ship? MERTHUR

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

When I started writing merthur I had a rule that I do not publish any of a fic until I am done with the entire thing. I do have some drafts however One is my version of What happens post cannon during gwen's reign. I Don't think I'll ever finish it because I'm CRAZY about merthur. and having Merthur in a fic helps keep me going with it.

16. What are your writing strengths? I like to think I am good at keeping In character, Besides that Dialouge and feelings I think. I like to know my characters deeply and be able to keep them fairly close to their cannon versions. Of course characters have LOTS of cannon versions depending on which time in cannon and how the story affects them. BUT still its somthing I like to focus on

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Problubly having enough decription. I'm NOT a super visual thinker so yeah. 18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Normally it should be translated or knowlable. Spells are an exeption

19. First fandom you wrote for? Um I was not in any fandom but I wrote a LOTR spoof in elementary school

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? Oh easy. Our Stars Still Shine Together was my first long merlin fic and the first that I wrote after realizing I could write again

@shanastoryteller @shana-rosee @catsconflictscopicsandchamomile @calamity-talvi @247merthur

@saurix5 @groundbreakingdot872

Twenty Questions for Fanfic Writers

Thank you @liviapeleia for the asks <3!!

Tagging longtime frond @breadkween, fabulous runner of @merlinmicrofic @queerofthedagger (thank you!) and reader and writer who's left me lovely comments @achillesuwu. @mythandmagic, Ao3 is down rn so I can't check but if you have any fics yourself, here's an ask game for you! There's no obligation, presh or time limit of course! Also like @liviapeleia said before me, consider yourself tagged if you see this!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

11

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

265,960

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Right now just Merlin. I've written for other fandoms in the past but each of those works have been standalone.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Always His Destiny | Merlin | A true love's kiss, resurrection and golden age AU written for Glompfest 2024.

Like Every Tree Stands On Its Own | Merlin | A longfic inspired by other Arthurian media/sources featuring Wildman Prophet!Merlin and a magical forest. This is my magnum opus.

What's Mightier Than a Sword and Robs a Prince of His Servant? | Merlin | Pre-slash Merthur minor canon-divergence in which Merlin's talents in speech writing land him a promotion and Arthur is Not Pleased™.

Only Human | Venom | A short gift/exchange fic about masturbation, lol. The fic I received in exchange was also about masturbation. In my defence this was a writing exercise (I promise).

The Sky Is Falling | Nightvale | Unfinished fic about alcoholism recovery, love, community and the complete collapse of reality.

...Okay wow what a mix :D

5. Do you respond to comments?

I really love comments and I love getting into discussions with readers! It really makes my day to see that someone has commented on one of my fics.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Am I allowed to choose a soon to be published WIP? Words Are Dead, a microfic inspired by the Agnes Obel song of the same name in which Merlin and Arthur are unable to communicate when Arthur returns. Merlin has lost Brythonic, his first language, and his capacity to relearn it. He's simply been alive for far too long and his mind has suffered :(

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Like Every Tree has a prolonged bittersweet kind of ending but I think Always His Destiny wins.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Nope/not yet!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes, though so far it hasn't been the focus of any of my works, there's no reason why that can't change though (the Venom one doesn't count, I make the rules here). As to what kind I'd say loving and intimate, I guess? Sometimes with a bit of a hurt/comfort element to it. Again, no reason why I can't branch out in the future ;)

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

While not labelled as a crossover, Like Every Tree was heavily inspired by Arthurian media both new and old, and one medieval Irish source. I did so much research for this fic and I'm still down those various rabbit holes. It was a homage to my favourite, janky cartoon movie from my childhood Quest for Camelot. Otherwise I don't write proper crossovers.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Don't think so.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Also don't think so.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No but I would love to!

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

I guess it really has to be Merthur! I don't recall a ship ever having such a hold on me. Those two are doomed but made for each other. The way they interact is so much fun to read/write.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Damn, this is definitely Be Here When the Weather Turns, a Mushi-shi fic. It has a very soft, restful and liminal vibe and I adore it. I really do wish I can finish it someday. So sometimes like a song, you share a piece of media with someone, or you associate it with a particular chapter in your life, and that song/piece of media brings up feelings. I'd like to think it's still worth a read. If you don't know Mushi-shi, please consider checking it out, it was weird and quiet and beautiful.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I can't deny that I put a lot of love into this hobby. Also @breadkween has told me that they really like my dialogue :3

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I'm really prone to typos. I can re-read something a hundred times and just fail to see them. I'm a very slow writer; what I put out usually goes through months of edits and change-ups. Lastly I have embraced a faux-pas or two for fun, such as starting sentences with 'and.' And no one can stop me >:)

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I'd only be comfortable writing dialogue in a language I've formerly learned and have some level of familiarity with for fear of getting something wrong.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Okay I love this question because the answer is the highly formative Garth Nix's Keys to the Kingdom series, a YA series I was obsessed with, and have continued to read, and re-read as an adult and as unexpected prequels and sequels popped up in more recent years. I wrote it on a literal floppy disk :D First fandom I wrote for that I actually published online was Undertale.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Definitely Like Every Tree. I'm just really proud of it :3

[brittlebutch]

finally found a place to read With the Light online and i'm thrilled; if you haven't read this manga i do Legitimately recommend it

[s1ithers]

finished da:o at last. thinking about my assortment of half-developed warden ocs who never quite gelled the way hawke did and i feel like it's partly that i never hit on a sequence of endgame choices that really felt like a payoff. da:o is a such a great build-your-own-blorbo kit, you get such juicy character concepts out of the origin choice & reactivity but i'd always get an oc to mid-late game and feel like they were a bit dressed up with nowhere to go bc the ending just doesn't... really cap their arc in a way that feels satisfying

there's some good crunchy episodic drama contained within the treaty quests but in terms of the overall structure, the warden hits their lowest point at the beginning and you spend the game powering up until you win, pretty straightforwardly depending on your choices. like yeah the dark ritual is edgy sexist bullshit but you need it, you need something there.

like the first 2/3 are a great arc. hero leaves home in exile, goes around finding friends & adventure, returns home changed by said adventures, confronts their past, wrenching emotional ordeal etc, moves on as their new actualized self to take on the big bad. which is great except everything pretty much comes up warden from there on out. you need some kind of climax crunch to test that actualized self, another pain point at the end

which they tried to do, it just falls a bit flat for me. i've heard the 'grey warden must die' twist criticized as feeling sprung out of nowhere but i don't mind that so much. between the whole 'in death, sacrifice' thing, duncan & jory, sophia dryden, etc, i think it's pretty well set up that this is an organization with dark secrets that their two bumbling junior recruits know way too little about. i do think it's a bit stock. 'will you die to save the world?' just isn't that interesting, there's a plain right answer both ethics & genre are pointing you to, which more importantly is not really tied to your character at all.

like say what you will about da2 but the ending pays the hell off bc it forces hawke to show who they are. a person could justify making either decision, so who your hawke is matters. every bit of character development is leading up to how they'll jump in that moment

and then after dropping the warden sacrifice on you, dao immediately offers you an escape hatch, which, unless your warden is really fussed about blood magic or whatever, of course you're gonna take. structurally i think this decision is leeched of a lot of potential by the fact that both options are coming as new information.

new guy we just met: wait! there's a problem! morrigan: don't worry i fixed it! okay! on we go then! thanks morrigan

(could've been cool if alistair knew a warden had to die from the start, so you're struggling to go on with this journey, knowing how it ends, really get some time to stew on that before morrigan drops her bomb. the full relief of a stay of execution, plus 'you're only telling me this now?!' gives the warden a somewhat more sympathetic reason to feel betrayed than like, self-centered dickishness)

but more than that, the options the game gives you to object don't acknowledge what's really so awful about it. like you get 1) dark magic scary. part of a pattern in how i think this franchise tends to (mis)apply blood magic etc as a narrative device, but, like, good option to have for roleplay. 2) is oldgodbaby a bad idea? valid question but doesn't really go anywhere (and is more or less locked into being an anticlimax, can't be world-shaking as a choice-dependent outcome)

but like that post that was going around. what it means for morrigan is so wrenching. is it what she wants for herself or is she still acting out her mother's will? can the warden know, or believe they know? if they ask her to go through with it, are they complicit in flemeth's abuse? or are they overriding morrigan's agency if they refuse out of concern for her? how does your warden's origin & personality frame how they see this - what they're entitled to, what they owe, what they believe about duty & autonomy & respect, they're relationship with morrigan, & with magic, & their own impending death.

these people who are so young & so traumatized flailing around hurting each other in their good intentions. the dark ritual as this awful act of desperation & mixed motivations & regret that tears this hard-won friend group apart (especially if alistair is involved). saving the world as a good clean victory over evil in the grand scope, at the cost of this cataclysmic sacrifice on the personal level - so intimate, so devastating, so small. THAT'S drama.

[aq2003]

oh btw i get even more why brennan (like me) clocked sophomore year fabian as fucked up and sad even if some of the other pcs were like "what are you talking about dude" . it's because the basic core theses of fabian and leiland eftbk as characters are actually pretty similar

[alteredphoenix]

Something I've noticed, but: yuri manga don't last very long, do they?

[handfulofmuses]

Kudos to Netflix Campion who went against Woundwort's orders without any regrets, didn't became an edge lord unlike his tv series counterpart didn't go boo hoo i'm about to betray my chief rabbit woe is me ): i absolutely have no honor ):, remained badass while he was at it by his tension with orchis

[astrxealis]

god there's so much stuff i want to get into (i am thinking of league, warcraft, diablo)

[bixels]

It's crazy how Dungeon Meshi's manga can feel more cinematic and emotional than the anime to me, even when they're practically the same. Compared to the anime, this moment is such a heartbreaking gut-drop. The way Kui uses negative space and flat compositions to create a sense of horrific stillness is so key.

The way the text (Senshi's monologue) is sequestered to an empty corner of a panel or huddled away from the edge of its text box is not only a great way of showing Senshi's headspace (fearful, isolated, dissociating), but creates a visual representation of pause, as if you hold your breathe after each line. The first panel puts us directly in Senshi's perspective too (compared to in the anime, which puts us as an outside observer over Senshi's shoulder). The detail of the door and bricks so effectively implies that he stared at it for so long, waiting and hoping, that its image is burned in his memory. The wood grain, the brick arch, the number of rivets. The lack of dialogue in the second panel shows a moment of realization too –– "he's dead" (also a great example of the Kuleshov effect). And it's that pause that creates a beat and sets a great rhythm to his headspace, like a music rest: "He never came back." (oh god.) "I'm all alone." Finally, the third panel's negative space, cropping Senshi, shows how truly alone he feels. Without his family, the world ceases to exists. Under shock, he traps himself in a 1-foot radius, too scared to even perceive a world outside its boundaries; a world that can hurt him, kill him, make him disappear with it. There is only his body, the stone beneath his feet and against his back, his thoughts, and that awful bowl of soup.

Even though they're a series of flat images, there's an implicit reading of silence in Senshi's realization and horror. Kui influences your experience to slow down and take your time.

Compare this to the anime, which fills every shot with dialogue. The pacing is fast; we never get to sit in silence like we do with the manga. The horizontal frame allowed the boarders to add Senshi, turning the composition into an over-the-shoulder shot, which takes us out of Senshi's POV. They also added a zoom-out in shot one, which adds unnecessary energy to a very somber scene. The tightening on Senshi as a close-up reaction shot also dulls the moment. In the original panel, Senshi stares ahead at the empty space to his left as a shadow surrounds his mind. It not only shows how Senshi's senses are dulling and his world is shrinking (setting up panel three), but shows how terrified Senshi is of what's in front of him, how the air itself becomes pitch black and opaque, how Senshi is surrendering himself to fear. The pacing is understandable and necessary; this episode packed a lot of story content together. It's just a shame because it really (imo) deflated one of the most nauseating moments in Dungeon Meshi.

[xinganhao]

🎞️ svt with a 'fangirl' partner.

@seungkwansflower → "them dating someone who was a HUGEEE fangirl when she was younger, but somehow didn’t fangirl over svt ORRR svt member finds the fan account u used to run for your ult group as a teen and teases you for it."

⌗ ┆took a little bit of #time with this because i wanted to do it justice ᵕᴗᵕ enjoy!

‧₊˚✩彡 includes: fangirl!f!reader, mentions of other groups/idols, established relationship, sulky & dramatic svt, crack/fluff, pet names, cussing, [short] headcanons under the cut.

🎞️ headcanons .ᐟ

easily, there's going to be a 'line' of the members who would tease you the hell out of your fangirl tendencies (albeit good-naturedly). we have jeonghan, of course, who will go around quoting your tweets at the most inopportune moments. you will quite literally never hear the end of it from him. chan follows close behind in judging some questionable things you said at the height of your obsessions. he's likely to use it as an opportunity for you to say something good about him, in turn. and wonwoo? he'll act cool and nonchalant about it, but he'll pull the rug out from underneath you when you least expect it. he likes getting you flustered when he reminds you that you may have not been a fan of his group, but surprise, surprise! you've ended up with him, still. call it karma, he'll half-joke.

there's also the 'line' whose pride takes a teensy bit of a hit at the thought of you liking other idols. to no one's surprise, junhui and soonyoung will be screaming in your ear about not being your ultimate bias. what do you mean they're not your standard, not the one you spent your entire tweenhood tweeting about?! they're about to make your days a living hell. a little more surprising: joshua is also relatively sulky over these revelations. he likes being your guy. he knows it's irrational to be envious, but for as long as you'll indulge him, he'll pout a bit and press, "i'm more handsome, though, right? you love me more?"

resigned. that's really just the best way to describe seokmin, minghao, and vernon. seokmin has accepted that he plays second fiddle to your love for your biases, and so he just pulls off little tricks here and there to catch your attention. he's the type to buy your priority photocards or get you fan meet tickets without you having to ask. over on minghao's end, that man is exasperated. you have him jumping through rings— specific outfits, fan cafe events— and he might grumble a bit about it, but he always gives in at the end. secretly, he enjoys seeing you so in your element. vernon is similar but in more extreme ways. he's a lot more vocal about his gripes re: your fangirl-isms and he's probably hella reluctant to ride along with you. but the look on your face when he secures you tickets to that comeback concert? okay, fine. maybe he'll start doing this a lot more often.

seungcheol isn't really the concert type. he loved music, sure, but the live shows and all that was more of the younger members' thing nowadays. that is— until he realized how much you liked concerts. now, he's pulling every stop to make sure you have tickets to your favorite acts. he goes with you when he can, and you're likely to find him with his arms crossed over his chest, his head bobbing up and down to the music. if he's being honest, though? he spends half of the show watching you, instead.

mingyu falls smack dab in to those who would tease you about the whole thing, though he gets a special mention for his endearingly annoying habit: holding it as leverage when the two of you are having petty arguments. never in serious fights, no, but in your day-to-day squabbles? he's pulling up all the times you called your bias 'pookie' on the internet. no point in deactivating the account. he's already screenshot every incriminating tweet and stowed it away in a locked folder on his phone. endless ammunition.

the runner-up in this series would most definitely be jihoon. a part of you will start to think it's intentional, how he's going around collaborating with your favorite groups and soloists. jihoon would never say it out loud, but of course it's intentional. he lives for the moments where he can get you signed merchandise, when he can ask your ult for a video message or some sort. it's the best of both worlds. you get all these exclusive little things, you get your boyfriend's lyrics/production on the acts you love, and jihoon gets you. it's a win-win in his opinion.

and [drum roll] of course seungkwan takes the cake in this verse, because he beats everyone out: he already knows about your life as a fangirl, maybe even way before he personally knew you. seungkwan is the likeliest to have also had a fan account of his own, and so it should come as no surprise if the two of you had crossed paths on the internet. he'll probably go around bragging about being 'oomfs' with you to the point that you have to beg him to stop mentioning your dark past. but why would seungkwan stop? he loves you. he loves being a fan. and, hell, at this point? he just loves being a fan of you.

[mcrdvcks]

i love you, in every time ࿐‧₊ 1854 - could it be love?

chapter summary: You meet Logan, a young man who is briefly stopping by in New York City. Despite both of your better judgments, you quickly realize that perhaps there's nothing wrong with falling in love.

word count: 22.2k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: ahh!! welcome to this new series! i'm very excited to start this journey with all of y'all! just a note, when i say 'character death(s)' in the warnings it means that reader is going to die at the end of every chapter. that's the entire premise of this series, which was inspired by the 11th doctor and clara (iykyk). but first, we have a lot of time to cover before we even reach the first x-men movie so strap in!

i also didn't mean for this to be as long as it is, oops

warnings/tags: fluff, angst, outdated mindsets on women, slow burn, illness, character deaths

series masterlist → chapter 2

You didn’t necessarily love your job, but it was better than other options available for you. You grumbled to yourself as you walked down the sidewalk of New York City, horses neighing and wheels rattling on the brick street.

The bonnet on your head protected you from the sun beating down, keeping you from further heat in your dress. You had many things to do while you were out, get the children some new clothes and toys, buy some groceries, and buy some extra cloth for when you eventually had to sew their clothing.

As you passed by a small shop, you paused, peering in through the window. A few wooden toys sat on the shelf inside, simple and sturdy. Perfect for the boys. You pushed the door open, a little bell jingling as you entered, and you made your way toward the display.

"Can I help you, miss?" The shopkeeper’s voice startled you, but you smiled politely.

"Just looking for some toys," you replied, eyes scanning the shelves.

As you picked up a carved wooden horse, the door opened again behind you, letting in a bit of fresh air and a man’s heavy footsteps. You didn’t pay it much mind until you felt a presence nearby, a little too close for comfort. You turned slightly, catching sight of a tall man with dark hair and an unshaven face, dressed in a rough shirt and worn pants, a bit out of place among the polished streets of the city.

He glanced your way, his sharp eyes catching yours for a brief moment before he looked back to the shelves.

Something about him felt different—dangerous, but not in the way that made you want to run. More like it pulled you in, made you curious.

You turned back to the toys, but your mind kept wandering back to the stranger standing nearby. You couldn’t help but glance his way again.

"Those are good for little ones," the man said, his voice rough but casual. He nodded at the toy horse in your hand. "They hold up well. Tougher than they look."

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by his sudden comment. "You have experience with them?"

His lips twitched, almost a smile. "A bit. Used to make ‘em myself."

You looked him over more closely now, intrigued. "You don’t seem like the toy-making type."

His eyes flicked to yours, something amused in the way he looked at you. "Not anymore," he said, then turned his attention back to the shelves.

There was a silence between you for a moment, but it didn’t feel awkward. If anything, it felt like he didn’t mind you being there, like he was used to people drifting in and out of his space.

You finally spoke again. "I suppose these are sturdy enough for two boys, then."

"Yeah. They’ll survive a beating."

You laughed, the sound surprising you. He gave you another look, a bit more interested this time. There was something about him that made you feel seen in a way that was different from how most men looked at you.

You gathered a few more toys, careful not to spend too much, but you couldn’t resist getting something extra for the little girl you looked after. She was sweet, and it wasn’t her fault she was stuck in such a strict household.

The stranger watched you with those sharp eyes, like he could see more than what was right in front of him. You wondered what his story was, but you weren’t about to ask.

As you headed to the counter, he followed, though he didn’t buy anything. The shopkeeper took your coins, and you gathered your parcels, still feeling the man’s presence behind you.

"Thanks for the advice," you said over your shoulder, more as a courtesy than anything else.

He nodded, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "Anytime."

With that, you left the shop, stepping back into the sunlight, the weight of your errands still on your shoulders. But as you walked away, you couldn’t help but feel like something had shifted. Like maybe that wasn’t the last time you’d see him.

---

Edwin and Phillip seemed to enjoy the toy you got them, already fighting over who gets to play with it first. They were the eldest, Edwin was 9, Phillip was 7, and Ada was 6. You handed her the toy you got for her, one she got to keep all to herself.

Ada's face lit up when you handed her the small, carved doll. She held it in her hands gently, like it was the most precious thing in the world.

"For me?" she asked, her voice soft with disbelief.

You smiled and nodded. "Just for you, Ada."

Her eyes sparkled, and she hugged the doll to her chest. "Thank you!"

Edwin and Phillip were already in the middle of their tug-of-war with the wooden horse, the two boys shouting over whose turn it was.

"I had it first!" Edwin argued, pulling the toy toward him.

"You always get it first!" Phillip shot back, his voice growing louder.

You sighed and stepped in, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. "Why don't you take turns? If you can't share, I'll have to take it away, and no one gets to play with it."

They both groaned but reluctantly agreed, setting the horse on the floor. Edwin was a bit of a handful, but he could be sweet when he wanted to be. Phillip, the quieter one, usually followed his brother’s lead. At least Ada wasn’t much trouble.

After helping Ada settle in with her new toy, you turned to check on the boys, making sure they hadn’t already forgotten your words. But as you did, your thoughts drifted back to the man in the shop. There was something about him—something that lingered in your mind even now. He didn’t fit in with the usual crowd you saw around here, but he didn’t seem bothered by that.

It was odd, though, that someone like him would be in a toy shop of all places. You tried to shake the thought away, but it kept creeping back, a sense that your brief encounter meant more than it appeared.

Later, after the children had settled down, you found yourself with a rare quiet moment. You sat by the window, staring out at the street below, watching the people passing by. The day was winding down, the sky fading into hues of orange and pink, and yet, the man’s sharp eyes lingered in your mind.

You shook your head, scolding yourself for thinking too much about a stranger. It was just a passing moment—nothing more. You had far more important things to focus on, like taking care of the children and making sure everything ran smoothly for the household. That man, whoever he was, wasn’t part of your world.

But still, something in the back of your mind whispered that you’d see him again. And the thought of it didn’t exactly bother you.

---

The next few days were a blur of your usual routine. The children kept you busy, and you barely had a moment to yourself. But even as you went through the motions of your daily life, you couldn't help but feel that sense of something—or someone—waiting.

It was on a brisk afternoon, a few days after your encounter at the shop, when you found yourself running errands again. The streets were busier than usual, with carriages clattering over the cobblestones and people bustling past in a hurry. You had a long list of things to pick up, and the thought of weaving through the crowded market already had you dreading the trip.

As you made your way through the streets, you spotted a familiar figure standing at the corner near a fruit stand. The man from the shop. He hadn’t seen you yet, but something about the way he stood, slightly apart from the rest of the crowd, watching the passersby with a quiet intensity, made you pause.

You debated for a moment. Should you approach him? Or would it seem too forward?

Before you could decide, his gaze lifted, and he spotted you. His eyes narrowed, a flicker of recognition passing over his features, but he didn’t move. He just stood there, watching you.

You took a deep breath and made your way over, your curiosity getting the better of you.

"Fancy seeing you here again," you said, trying to sound casual as you approached.

"Didn’t expect to run into you either," he replied, his voice still rough, but there was a hint of something in his tone. Amusement? Interest? You couldn’t quite place it.

"I was just running errands," you said, gesturing to the market behind you. "You know how it is."

He nodded, his eyes flicking over you for a moment before landing back on the crowd. "Yeah, I get it."

There was a beat of silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it almost felt... familiar. Like talking to him wasn’t so strange after all.

"Are you from around here?" you asked, breaking the silence.

He shook his head. "Not really. Just passing through."

"Do you always pass through toy shops when you're in town?"

His lips quirked into that almost-smile again. "Only when I feel like it."

You couldn’t help but chuckle. "Mysterious, aren’t you?"

He shrugged, not giving much away. "Maybe."

You were about to ask him something else when a shout came from behind you. You turned to see one of the street vendors, an older man, calling out angrily at a young boy who had clearly tried to swipe an apple from his cart.

Before you could even react, the man next to you stepped forward. His movements were quick and fluid, like he was used to handling situations like this. He reached the boy before the vendor could get too close, gripping the kid by the collar.

"Hey," the man said, his voice low but firm. "That’s not how you do things."

The boy froze, wide-eyed, clearly not expecting to be caught so quickly.

"Put it back," the man ordered.

The boy, trembling slightly, dropped the apple back onto the cart. "I’m sorry!" he blurted out before scurrying off into the crowd.

You watched as the man exchanged a few words with the vendor, calming him down before he turned back to you, his expression unreadable.

"You didn’t have to do that," you said, surprised by how quickly he had handled the situation.

He shrugged again. "The kid’ll learn his lesson. Better this way than the other options."

You looked at him, a little more curious now. He wasn’t just some rough-around-the-edges stranger. There was something deeper to him, something that made you want to know more.

“I don’t think I caught your name the other day,” you settled on, meeting his eyes as the energy of the crowd buzzed around you both.

He gave a small nod, like he was considering whether to answer or not. "Logan," he said simply.

"Logan," you repeated, trying the name on your tongue. It suited him, rough around the edges but solid. "I’m Y/N."

His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he gave another slight nod, acknowledging it. The silence between you wasn’t heavy, but it felt like something unspoken passed through the space. Something that told you he wasn’t just another passerby in your life.

"Thanks for helping that kid back there," you said, breaking the quiet. "Not everyone would step in like that."

Logan shrugged like it was nothing, his eyes scanning the crowd again. "Not a big deal."

You tilted your head slightly, studying him. "You do that a lot? Play the hero?"

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, barely there, but it was enough. "No. Just don't like seeing people get hurt when I can do something about it."

There was a gruffness to his words, but it didn’t feel forced. It felt real. And it was clear that he wasn’t the type to go around explaining himself to anyone. You liked that.

"Well, either way, it was good of you." You glanced down at the parcels in your arms, suddenly remembering the rest of your errands. "I should probably get going, before I’m late getting back."

Logan gave you a small nod, his eyes flicking down to your parcels. "You take care."

You hesitated, a part of you not wanting to walk away just yet. But what could you say? You didn’t know this man, not really, and yet you felt drawn to him in a way that was hard to explain. Maybe it was the way he carried himself, like he had been through more than he let on. Or maybe it was the quiet strength in him that made you feel oddly safe.

"Maybe I’ll see you around?" you offered, not wanting to make the goodbye feel so final.

Logan’s eyes met yours again, and for a moment, there was something softer in his gaze. "Yeah. Maybe."

With that, you gave him a small smile and turned to leave, weaving your way through the bustling street. As you walked, you couldn’t help but glance back once, just to see if he was still there. He was, standing where you left him, watching you go.

---

The following days fell back into your usual routine—taking care of the children, running errands, keeping the household in order. Yet, no matter how busy you were, your thoughts kept drifting back to Logan. Something about him lingered in your mind, and it wasn’t just because he had helped out that kid. There was something deeper, something you couldn’t quite shake.

You found yourself wondering if he really was just passing through, or if there was more to his story than he was letting on. You didn’t know why it mattered so much, but it did.

One afternoon, as you were helping Ada tie the ribbon on her new dress, she looked up at you with her big, curious eyes.

"Y/N, are you thinking about something?" she asked innocently.

You blinked, surprised. "Why do you ask?"

"Because you’re smiling," she said, her voice soft and sweet.

You hadn’t even realized. "Oh," you said, chuckling softly. "I guess I was just lost in thought."

Ada giggled, her small hands playing with the ribbon you had just tied. "You think about a lot of things."

"That’s because I have to keep track of all you rascals," you teased, tickling her side gently.

She squealed in delight, wriggling away from you, and you couldn’t help but laugh. But as you settled back into the moment, that same thought returned, uninvited. Logan. Would you see him again?

---

It wasn’t long before the answer came.

You were out in the market again, picking up some fresh bread for dinner. The smell of the bakery wafted through the air, warm and comforting. You had just handed over your coins to the baker when you felt that familiar presence—something just outside the edge of your awareness, like a shadow that suddenly moved.

Turning slightly, your eyes caught sight of Logan standing near a fruit cart, his hands in his pockets, watching you. It wasn’t a surprise this time, but your heart still gave a little flutter at the sight of him. You made your way over, the crowd parting as you walked.

"Logan," you greeted, a smile pulling at your lips before you could stop it.

"Y/N," he replied, nodding in acknowledgment. His expression didn’t change much, but there was something almost... pleased in his eyes. Like he had expected you to come over.

"Still passing through?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He glanced around the busy street before answering. "Seems like I’ve been here longer than I planned."

"Any reason for that?" you asked, half-joking but also genuinely curious.

Logan looked at you for a long moment, like he was debating how much to say. Finally, he shrugged. "No reason."

You didn’t believe him for a second, but you let it go. Instead, you gestured to the bread in your basket. "If you’re still around tomorrow, you should come by the park. I take the children there sometimes in the afternoons. It’s quieter than here."

Logan’s eyes flicked to yours, considering. "Maybe I will."

You nodded, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction from his answer. It was small, but it was something.

"Well," you said, shifting the basket on your arm. "I should get back before the boys tear the house down."

Logan smirked at that, and you felt a warmth spread through you at the sight of it. He wasn’t a man who smiled easily, but when he did, it felt like a reward.

"Take care," he said, his voice low and steady, and you couldn’t help but notice how those words made you feel safe in a way you hadn’t expected.

As you walked away, the warmth of his gaze stayed with you, lingering long after you’d turned the corner.

---

The next day, you found yourself at the park, just as you had promised. Edwin and Phillip were racing around, laughing as they chased each other, while Ada sat quietly by your side, her doll clutched in her hands.

You tried not to look around for Logan, but you couldn’t help it. Every time someone passed by, your heart gave a little jump, only to settle back down when you realized it wasn’t him.

Just as you were beginning to think he wouldn’t show, you heard the sound of heavy footsteps approaching. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

"Mind if I join you?" Logan’s voice was calm, but there was something in it that made you smile.

You glanced up, meeting his eyes. "Not at all."

Logan gave a nod, lowering himself onto the bench beside you. He stretched his long legs out, looking completely at ease. The sounds of the children’s laughter filled the air, and for a moment, you just sat in companionable silence.

“Boys giving you trouble?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly.

“They always do,” you replied, watching as Edwin tackled Phillip to the ground. “But I think they’d explode if they didn’t.”

Logan’s lips twitched at that—almost a smile. “Kids’ll do that. Got too much energy.”

You tilted your head, studying him out of the corner of your eye. “You got siblings?”

Logan paused for a second, like the question had caught him off guard. “Yeah. A brother.”

You didn’t press, sensing there was more to the story but knowing better than to pry. Instead, you turned your attention back to the children.

“Do you have any?” Logan asked, nodding toward the boys.

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “I look after them for the family I work for. They keep me busy, though. Might as well be mine.”

He gave a soft grunt of acknowledgment, resting his elbows on his knees.

“And her?” Logan nodded toward Ada, who sat a little apart from the boys, her doll tucked protectively in her arms.

“That’s Ada,” you said, smiling softly. “She’s the quiet one. A little sweet thing, really.”

“She’s got good taste,” Logan remarked, glancing at the doll in her hands.

You chuckled. “That was the least I could do for her. Life’s not exactly fun in that house.”

Logan’s gaze flicked toward you, something unreadable in his expression. “It never is.”

You frowned, catching the weight behind his words, but before you could ask what he meant, Ada wandered over to you. She gave Logan a curious glance but stayed close by your side.

“Who’s he?” Ada whispered, gripping your sleeve.

You smiled. “This is Logan. He’s a friend.”

Logan gave her a small nod, and Ada, ever cautious, just stared at him with wide eyes. After a beat, she leaned in close to you and whispered, “He looks like a bear.”

You tried—really tried—not to laugh, but it slipped out anyway. Logan gave a low chuckle of his own, shaking his head slightly.

“Smart kid,” he murmured.

Ada, encouraged by your laughter, gave a shy smile. Then she wandered back toward the boys, apparently satisfied with Logan’s presence.

“She’s got you figured out,” you teased, grinning.

Logan’s expression softened just a bit, and he gave a small shrug. “Kids see things plain.”

You leaned back on the bench, letting yourself relax. It was strange, how easy it felt to be around him. You didn’t know much about him—hardly anything, really—but something about Logan made you feel like you didn’t need to fill the silence with useless conversation.

“Do you ever stop moving?” you asked suddenly, curious. “You said you were just passing through, but it seems like you’ve stayed a bit longer.”

Logan didn’t answer right away. He stared out at the park, his expression thoughtful.

“Sometimes,” he said finally. “Not often, though.”

“That sounds lonely.”

His jaw twitched slightly, and he turned his head to look at you. “You get used to it.”

You held his gaze for a moment, sensing that there was more beneath the surface than he was letting on. But instead of prying, you just nodded, accepting his words for what they were.

“Well, if you ever feel like staying in one place for a bit, you know where to find me,” you said lightly.

Logan’s eyes flickered with something—something you couldn’t quite name—but he gave a small nod, like he was filing that thought away.

“Appreciate it,” he murmured.

Before you could say more, Edwin and Phillip came barreling toward you, out of breath and covered in dirt.

“Y/N! Y/N!” Edwin shouted. “Phillip said he could run faster than me, but I totally won!”

Phillip scowled, wiping mud off his cheek. “Only because you pushed me.”

“You pushed him?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at Edwin.

Edwin squirmed. “Not that hard.”

Logan snorted quietly, drawing both boys’ attention. They looked at him with wide, curious eyes.

“Who’s that?” Edwin whispered loudly, leaning closer to you.

“That’s Logan,” you said. “He’s a friend.”

Edwin tilted his head, squinting up at Logan. “You look tough.”

Logan’s lips twitched. “I get that a lot.”

“Can you fight?” Edwin asked eagerly, his eyes lighting up. “Like—like really fight?”

“Edwin!” you scolded, but Logan just gave a small chuckle.

“Yeah,” Logan said. “A bit.”

“Whoa!” Edwin’s jaw dropped, clearly impressed. Phillip, more cautious, stayed quiet but kept his eyes on Logan like he was trying to figure him out.

“Alright, enough of that,” you said, gently ushering the boys away. “Go play before I make you help with dinner.”

Edwin groaned but dragged Phillip along, the two of them running back toward the trees.

You glanced at Logan, shaking your head. “You’ve got yourself some new fans, it seems.”

Logan huffed softly. “Kids are alright.”

There was a pause, and then you asked quietly, “You really do keep moving, don’t you?”

Logan looked at you, his expression serious. “Yeah.”

You bit your lip, unsure of what to say. There was something in his eyes that told you he’d seen more than most—more than you could probably imagine.

“Well,” you said softly, “if you ever get tired of running, you know where to find me.”

Logan held your gaze for a long moment, his eyes searching yours. Then, with the barest hint of a smile, he nodded.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

---

You saw Logan more often than not. Truth be told, you enjoyed his presence. He was different than the other men you had met, not as harsh, didn’t look down on you, or see you as an object.

One day, while walking around the market with a small basket, filled with a few apples and some bread, you looked at a carriage, rolling along the brick road with a horse in front.

“I never learned how to ride a horse,” you said, glancing at the carriage as it rolled along the cobblestone street. The words came out before you even knew why you said them, maybe just filling the space between you and Logan.

Logan, walking beside you, gave you a sidelong glance. The faintest trace of a smirk played at the corner of his mouth. “That right?”

You shrugged, shifting the basket in your hand. “Never had a reason to, I suppose. And it’s not exactly something you pick up living in the city.”

He made a low noise in his throat that could have been agreement. For a moment, the two of you walked in companionable silence, the sounds of the market buzzing around you—vendors calling out, the clip-clop of hooves, the soft rustle of autumn leaves underfoot.

“Wouldn’t take much to learn,” Logan said finally, his voice easy. “Reckon you’d be good at it.”

You shot him a skeptical glance. “How would you know?”

Logan gave a lazy shrug. “Just a guess.”

There was something in his tone, though—something soft and amused that made your cheeks warm. You glanced away, pretending to be very interested in a stall selling ribbons, though your attention kept drifting back to Logan.

“You know how to ride, then?” you asked after a moment, keeping your tone casual.

He nodded. “Yeah. Picked it up when I was a kid.”

You raised an eyebrow, curious despite yourself. “Where’d you grow up?”

“Here and there,” he answered vaguely, though not unkindly. You got the sense that there was a lot more to the story—things he wasn’t ready to share. And maybe things you weren’t quite ready to ask about. Not yet, anyway.

“Would you teach me?” you asked on impulse, surprising even yourself.

Logan glanced over, one brow raised, and for a moment, you thought he might laugh. But he didn’t. Instead, he gave a small nod, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Sure,” he said simply.

A smile tugged at your lips before you could stop it.

“When?” you pressed, feeling strangely excited by the idea.

Logan thought for a moment, his gaze drifting toward the road ahead. “Next Sunday,” he decided. “There’s a place just outside the city. I know a guy who’s got a couple of good horses.”

You felt a flicker of doubt—after all, you had responsibilities, and it wasn’t as though you could just abandon the children for the day. But Logan must have noticed your hesitation because he gave you a reassuring look.

“Bring the kids,” he offered. “They can run wild while you learn.”

That made you laugh softly. “You really think I can keep up with them and learn to ride a horse?”

Logan’s lips twitched. “I’ll handle the boys if they get out of hand.”

You gave him a skeptical look. “You don’t know what you’re offering.”

“I’ve handled worse,” Logan said with a grin that made your stomach do an odd little flip.

You opened your mouth to respond, but just then, a vendor called out, advertising fresh apples, and you were drawn toward the stall. Logan followed at a leisurely pace, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat.

You picked a couple of apples, inspecting them before adding them to your basket. As you handed a coin to the vendor, you glanced at Logan again.

“Next Sunday, then?” you asked, as if you still needed confirmation.

Logan gave a small nod. “Next Sunday.”

Something about the way he said it—calm and certain—made you believe it would actually happen. And for the first time in a long while, you found yourself looking forward to something.

---

The boys were already running rampant in the large field, their shouts of laughter echoing across the open space. You could see Edwin trying to race Phillip again, their legs kicking up dirt as they charged back and forth. Ada, ever the quiet one, sat nearby on a stack of hay, her doll in her lap, watching them with a little smile on her face.

You stood near the horses, feeling a flutter of nervous energy in your stomach. Logan was beside you, calm as always, holding the reins of a chestnut mare with an ease that made it all look far simpler than you knew it was. He glanced over at you, his dark eyes catching yours, and you could see the trace of a smirk tugging at his lips.

“You sure about this?” Logan asked, nodding toward the horse.

You swallowed, staring up at the mare. “Sure. How hard can it be?”

Logan gave a quiet laugh, clearly not convinced. “We’ll see.”

He held the reins steady, motioning for you to come closer. You did, taking a deep breath as you placed your hand on the saddle. The horse shifted slightly, and you jumped back a little, making Logan chuckle again.

“She’s not gonna bite,” he said, his voice low and amused.

“I know that,” you muttered, embarrassed but trying not to show it. “I just wasn’t ready.”

Logan gave a small shrug, stepping around to stand beside you. “C’mon. Foot in the stirrup. I’ll help you up.”

You hesitated for only a second before nodding. Grabbing hold of the saddle, you placed your foot in the stirrup just like he’d told you, and then you felt Logan’s hand on your waist, firm and steady. With one swift movement, he lifted you up onto the horse, and suddenly you were sitting much higher than you’d expected.

You gripped the reins tightly, your heart racing a little.

“There,” Logan said, standing back with his arms crossed. He looked up at you, giving a small nod of approval. “Not bad.”

You glanced down at him, a bit breathless. “I’m on the horse, but that doesn’t mean I can ride it.”

Logan smirked. “One step at a time, darlin’.”

He moved around to grab the reins, keeping his voice low and calm as he spoke to the mare, guiding her gently in a slow circle around the field. You held on, trying to keep yourself steady in the saddle. It wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be, but every time the horse took a step, you felt your stomach flip a little.

Logan kept walking beside you, close enough that you could hear him, though his voice was quiet. “You’re doin’ fine.”

“I feel ridiculous,” you muttered, glancing over at the boys to make sure they weren’t watching. Of course, they were, but they seemed more interested in their own games than in you wobbling around on a horse.

“You look fine,” Logan said, and there was something in his tone that made you glance at him sharply.

His eyes flickered up toward yours for just a moment, and you felt that familiar warmth in your cheeks again. You looked away quickly, trying to focus on staying upright.

“You’re just sayin’ that,” you said, trying to sound casual.

Logan chuckled. “No. If you looked ridiculous, I’d tell you.”

The confidence in his voice made you smile despite yourself. You loosened your grip on the reins just a little, letting yourself relax. The horse moved steadily beneath you, her pace slow and even, and after a few moments, you realized it wasn’t so bad after all.

“You ready to try it on your own?” Logan asked, his voice easy.

You blinked. “You think I’m ready?”

“Yeah.” He handed the reins over to you, stepping back a little. “Just keep her steady. She’s not gonna take off on you.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath and gripping the reins tightly as you urged the horse forward. She responded, moving into a gentle walk, and you felt a little thrill of pride. Logan walked beside you for a few more steps, watching, but then he stopped, folding his arms across his chest as he watched you guide the horse around the field on your own.

“You’re a natural,” he called out, a grin tugging at his lips.

You laughed softly, feeling a bit more confident now. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

As you circled back around toward him, you slowed the horse, bringing her to a stop in front of Logan. He looked up at you, his eyes warm and approving.

“Told ya,” he said. “Not so hard, is it?”

You shook your head, smiling. “Not as hard as I thought.”

Logan reached up, taking the reins from your hands. “C’mon. Let’s get you down.”

This part felt a little trickier, but Logan was there, steadying you as you swung your leg over the saddle and slid down. His hands were firm on your waist again, and for just a moment, you were standing close enough to catch the scent of leather and something else—something distinctly Logan.

“Thanks,” you said softly, looking up at him.

Logan’s eyes held yours for a long moment, something unreadable flickering in his gaze. Then he gave a small nod, stepping back.

“Anytime,” he said, his voice low.

Before you could say anything else, the boys came running over, breathless and wild from their playing. Edwin looked up at the horse, his eyes wide with excitement.

“Can I ride next?” he asked, practically bouncing on his toes.

You glanced at Logan, raising an eyebrow. “You said you’d handle them if they got out of hand, remember?”

Logan sighed, giving you a wry smile. “Yeah, I remember.”

He looked at Edwin, then nodded toward the horse. “Alright, kid. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

As Logan helped Edwin onto the horse, you stepped back, watching with a small smile. The sun was starting to dip lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the field, and for a moment, everything felt peaceful. You glanced at Ada, who was still sitting on the haystack, her doll in her arms, watching the scene with quiet interest.

Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to let yourself enjoy moments like this.

As Logan guided Edwin around the field, you found yourself watching him more than the horse. There was something about the way he moved—strong, sure, like he belonged here, like he was more comfortable in this quiet, open space than anywhere else.

And as he turned, catching your eye for just a moment, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, he’d found something here worth staying for.

---

“You ever think about gettin’ outta the city?” Logan asked, his voice low. “Findin’ somewhere quieter?”

You glanced at him, a little surprised by the question. “I’ve thought about it. But… I’ve got responsibilities.”

Logan nodded slowly, his eyes distant as he stared out at the horizon. “Yeah. Responsibilities.”

The way he said it made you wonder if he was thinking about something—or someone—far away. You’d learned quickly that Logan wasn’t one to talk much about his past, and though you were curious, you didn’t push.

You turned a jar of honey over in your hand, Mr. Thomas had asked you to buy them another jar while you were out. “If I didn’t have responsibilities, I’d like to live out in a cabin, away from everything else. Sometimes things here are noisy. I’d just like to… I don’t know, exist without worryin’ about anything.”

Logan, standing beside you, his hands shoved in his pockets, gave a small grunt of agreement. "Sounds nice."

You glanced at him, curious. "You ever think about it? Leaving the city behind, finding a quiet spot somewhere?"

Logan paused for a moment, his gaze distant. "Yeah. Sometimes."

The simplicity of his answer hung in the air between you, and for a second, you wondered if he'd actually let himself think about settling down. It seemed unlikely, given how much he kept moving, but there was something in the way he said it, something almost wistful.

"You don't seem like the kind of guy who stays in one place for too long," you teased, shifting the basket in your hand as you handed the vendor a coin for the honey.

Logan shrugged, a small smirk playing at his lips. "Guess not."

You both fell into a comfortable silence as you continued walking through the market. The streets bustled with people, but somehow, with Logan by your side, it all felt a little less overwhelming. You didn't have to fill the quiet with pointless chatter. He wasn’t like the others in the city—constantly rushing, looking for something to gain. He just… existed, like you wanted to.

As you passed by a small stall selling flowers, you slowed down, your eyes catching on a bouquet of wildflowers that reminded you of something you'd see out in the countryside. Logan noticed, his eyes following your gaze.

"You like those?" he asked, nodding toward the flowers.

You smiled softly. "Yeah. They remind me of… I don’t know, freedom, I guess."

Logan gave a small chuckle. "Freedom, huh?"

You shrugged, suddenly feeling a little silly. "I know it sounds strange. It’s just… being stuck in the city all the time, I don’t get to see much of the world outside these streets."

He didn’t laugh or brush it off like most people would have. Instead, Logan looked at you for a moment, his expression serious.

"Maybe one day," he said quietly, "you’ll get that cabin. Find some peace."

There was something about the way he said it that made your heart skip a beat, but before you could respond, a commotion erupted a few stalls down. Edwin and Phillip came barreling toward you, laughing and out of breath, their hands full of something they clearly weren’t supposed to have.

"Y/N!" Edwin shouted, holding up a small sack of apples. "Look what we got!"

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. "And how exactly did you 'get' those?"

Phillip, ever the quieter one, shifted nervously on his feet. "We didn’t steal them! Mr. Turner gave them to us after we helped him with his cart."

You glanced over to where Mr. Turner, a kind old man who often sold apples at the market, was smiling and waving in your direction.

"Alright," you said, sighing with relief. "But you’d better not be causing any trouble."

Logan chuckled under his breath, watching the boys with amusement. "They’re just having fun."

"Yeah, until someone gets hurt," you muttered, though you couldn’t help but smile at their excitement.

Edwin, noticing Logan for the first time, grinned. "Hey, Logan! You ever been in a real fight?"

Logan smirked, glancing at you before turning back to the boys. "A couple."

Edwin’s eyes lit up. "Tell us about one!"

"Edwin," you warned, shaking your head. "Logan doesn’t have time to tell you all his stories."

But Logan didn’t seem to mind. He crouched down to the boys’ level, his expression serious as he spoke in that low, gravelly voice of his.

"Alright, but just one. There was this guy… big, tough-looking fella, thought he could take me down. We were out in the middle of nowhere, no one around for miles. He comes at me with this huge stick, thinking that’ll be enough."

Edwin and Phillip leaned in, wide-eyed, hanging on every word.

"So, what happened?" Edwin asked, barely able to contain himself.

Logan’s smirk deepened. "Let’s just say, he learned real quick not to mess with me."

The boys erupted into laughter, completely captivated by the idea of Logan taking down some big, burly guy.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help the smile creeping onto your face. "You’re gonna give them ideas, you know."

Logan stood, shrugging casually. "Kids need a little excitement."

"Not too much," you muttered, though you were grateful for the way he interacted with them. Most men in the city didn’t have the patience for children, especially not boys as wild as Edwin and Phillip.

As the boys ran off again, Logan glanced over at you, his expression softening just a bit.

"They look up to you," he said quietly.

You looked down, shrugging. "They’re good kids. Just need someone to look after them."

Logan was quiet for a moment, watching the boys as they disappeared into the crowd. Then, almost as if the thought had just occurred to him, he turned back to you.

"You ever think about having your own?" he asked, his tone surprisingly gentle.

The question caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. You hadn’t really thought about it—not seriously, anyway. Your life was too full of other people’s children, other people’s problems.

"I don’t know," you said slowly, glancing up at him. "Maybe someday. If I ever get that cabin, I might think about it."

Logan nodded, but didn’t say anything more. He just walked beside you, the two of you falling back into that easy, comfortable silence.

It wasn’t until later, as you lay in bed that night, that you found yourself thinking about his question again. The idea of a quiet life, away from the noise and chaos of the city, didn’t seem so impossible anymore—not when you imagined Logan there with you.

---

One night, after you had put the boys to sleep and were in Ada’s room to read a story to her, she asked you a question. “Why aren’t you like mama and papa?”

You raised your head from the book you were reading to her, “what do you mean?”

Her lips formed a small pout, “mama has papa, but you don’t have anyone.”

You blinked, caught off guard by Ada’s question. Her innocent curiosity made your heart ache, but you kept your voice steady.

“Well, sweetie,” you started, trying to find the right words, “sometimes, people are just on their own for a little while. It doesn’t mean they won’t find someone. Maybe they just haven’t yet.”

Ada considered this, her small brow furrowed in thought. “But you’re so nice. Why doesn’t anyone love you?”

The simplicity of the question stung more than it should have. You chuckled softly, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “It’s not that simple, Ada. But thank you for saying that.”

She didn’t seem satisfied with your answer, her tiny face still scrunched up in confusion. “Don’t you get lonely?”

You hesitated, glancing out the window at the darkening sky. The truth was, sometimes you did. Even though you were surrounded by people—taking care of the children, managing the house—you couldn’t deny that feeling creeping in every now and then.

“I have you, don’t I?” you finally said, smiling down at her. “And Edwin and Phillip. You three keep me pretty busy.”

Ada giggled softly at that, settling into her blankets. “I guess. But I think you should find someone, like mama did.”

You gave her a light kiss on the forehead, smoothing down her hair. “Maybe one day, kiddo.”

Ada yawned, her eyes drooping as sleep crept up on her. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Ada,” you whispered, watching her drift off. You stayed there for a moment longer, thinking about her words, before quietly slipping out of the room.

The house was silent as you made your way down the hall, but your mind was anything but. Her innocent question stirred something inside of you, a longing that you hadn’t let yourself fully acknowledge. It wasn’t like you to dwell on what you didn’t have, but maybe… maybe Ada was right. Maybe there was something missing.

But it wasn’t something you could focus on right now. You had responsibilities. This family depended on you, and that was enough for now. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

As you reached your room and closed the door behind you, you caught sight of the bouquet of wildflowers Logan had quietly bought earlier in the day. You hadn’t noticed him purchase them at the market, but when you returned to the house, they were there on the doorstep, a small note attached that simply read, Thought you’d like these.

You smiled to yourself, gently picking up the flowers and placing them in a vase by the window. You hadn’t thought much about having someone of your own, but as you looked at the flowers, you couldn’t help but wonder what it might be like.

And, for the first time in a long while, the idea didn’t seem so far away.

---

The next few days passed quietly, with Logan visiting you at the market more frequently, though neither of you mentioned the wildflowers. There was an unspoken understanding between you—neither of you rushed things, but the connection was undeniably growing.

One afternoon, as you sat outside with Ada on your lap, reading her a story, Logan appeared at the gate. The children spotted him first, of course, and Edwin ran over, grinning ear to ear.

“Logan! You’re back!” he shouted, tugging at Logan’s coat. “Did you bring us any stories?”

Logan gave a soft grunt, glancing over at you with a smirk. “I might have one or two left.”

You shook your head, amused. “They’ll never leave you alone if you keep telling them stories, you know.”

Logan crouched down, ruffling Edwin’s hair. “I don’t mind,” he said, his gaze softening as he glanced at Ada in your lap. “How’re you doin’, kid?”

Ada looked up from the book and smiled shyly, giving him a small wave. “Hi, Logan.”

He smiled, the sight of the children always easing something in him, though he didn’t let it show too much.

As the kids ran off to play, Logan took a seat beside you on the bench. The two of you sat in silence for a while, watching the children chase each other across the yard.

“They’re good kids,” Logan said finally, breaking the quiet.

“They are,” you agreed. “They’ve got a lot of love to give, and not always enough people around to give it to.”

Logan turned his head slightly, his eyes studying you. “That include you?”

You looked down, fidgeting with your skirt. “Maybe. I spend so much time looking after everyone else, sometimes I forget there’s more to life than just… this.”

Logan didn’t say anything at first, just watched you quietly. Then, his voice low, he asked, “You ever think about finding something more?”

You turned to him, surprised by the question. “I don’t know if I’ve let myself think that far ahead,” you admitted, your heart beating a little faster under his gaze.

Logan looked away, his jaw tightening slightly as if he was holding something back. “Maybe you should.”

The weight of his words lingered in the air between you, and for the first time, you felt a pull—a possibility of something beyond the life you’d built here. Something you hadn’t allowed yourself to dream about until now.

But before either of you could say more, the children’s laughter echoed through the yard, and the moment passed. Still, the feeling stayed with you long after Logan left that evening.

---

The sky had taken on that soft orange hue of evening, the kind that made the whole world feel suspended between day and night. You and Logan walked side by side along the Hudson River, the sound of water gently lapping against the shore mixing with the distant hum of the city. It had become your routine over the past few weeks, these evening walks—quiet, almost intimate, even though neither of you said much.

Today, though, something felt different. Logan had been quieter than usual, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his usual gruff demeanor softened by the fading sunlight. Every now and then, you’d catch him glancing at you from the corner of his eye, as if there was something he wanted to say but couldn’t find the words.

“You alright?” you asked, your voice cutting through the comfortable silence.

Logan nodded, though his expression didn’t quite match the motion. “Yeah, just… thinkin’.”

“About?”

He stopped walking, turning to face the river. You followed his gaze, watching the way the sun’s reflection danced on the surface of the water. After a long moment, he spoke.

“I’ve never really… had this before,” he said, his voice low, almost hesitant. “Y’know, just… bein’ with someone like this. Feels kinda strange.”

You smiled softly, stepping closer to him, close enough that your arm brushed against his. “Strange in a good way?”

Logan let out a short, almost nervous chuckle. “Yeah. In a good way.”

The two of you stood there, side by side, watching the sun dip lower in the sky. You could feel the warmth of his presence, his arm just barely touching yours, and it sent a small thrill through you. You hadn’t been sure at first if what you felt for Logan was mutual—he was quiet, reserved, hard to read—but moments like this, when the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you, made it clear. There was something unspoken between you, something neither of you had dared to put into words.

After a while, you turned to face him, studying the way his brow was furrowed, like he was deep in thought.

“Logan,” you said softly.

He looked at you then, really looked at you, his hazel eyes meeting yours with a kind of intensity that made your heart skip a beat. For a moment, neither of you moved, the air thick with something unsaid.

Before you could second-guess yourself, you reached out and took his hand, your fingers slipping into his. Logan stiffened at the touch, his eyes flicking down to where your hands were joined, but he didn’t pull away. If anything, he stepped closer, his fingers curling around yours, holding on a little tighter.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way before either,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan’s gaze softened, his usual guarded expression cracking just enough to let something more vulnerable show through. He hesitated, like he was trying to find the right words, but then decided words weren’t necessary.

Instead, he took a small step forward, his free hand coming up to gently cup the side of your face. His touch was warm, rough, but there was a surprising tenderness in the way his thumb brushed lightly against your cheek. You held your breath, your heart pounding in your chest as he leaned in, his eyes flicking between yours as if asking for permission.

When you didn’t pull away, he closed the distance.

The kiss was soft, almost tentative at first, like he was testing the waters. But the second your lips met his, something inside you seemed to melt, and you leaned into him, deepening the kiss. Logan responded in kind, his grip on your hand tightening as he pulled you closer, the space between you disappearing entirely.

For a moment, it was just the two of you—the sound of the river fading away, the world narrowing down to the warmth of Logan’s lips against yours, the feel of his hand cradling your face like you were something precious.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathing a little heavier, your foreheads resting against each other as you stood there, wrapped in the soft glow of the setting sun.

Logan’s eyes fluttered open, and he gave you a small, almost sheepish smile. “Didn’t think I’d be kissin’ you tonight.”

You laughed softly, still a little breathless. “Neither did I.”

He pulled you closer, resting his chin on top of your head as he held you against him. The two of you stood there in the fading light, wrapped up in each other, the world beyond the river momentarily forgotten.

---

Logan thought back to your conversation about living in a cabin more than he cared to admit. The thought of it seemed nice, peaceful, and dare he say it perfect.

After a few weeks of being together, Logan had made a decision and scrounged up any money he could before buying a modest ring from a jeweler. He wasn’t going to propose yet but carrying the ring in his pocket felt right.

He had been coming over to the Thomases’ sprawling estate more often, whether it was walking with you from the market to the large house or even just stopping by of his own will. At first, it had been an occasional thing—a quiet visit here, a quick walk there—but lately, Logan found himself looking for excuses just to be around. You didn’t seem to mind. In fact, the way your eyes lit up when you saw him made him feel something unfamiliar, something good.

One late afternoon, Logan leaned against the garden gate, watching as you knelt by a row of flowers, tending to them with your usual care. He couldn’t help but admire the sight—your sleeves rolled up, hair slightly tousled from the breeze, a small smile on your lips as you worked. It made something in his chest tighten. He fingered the ring in his pocket, feeling its weight. He had no plan to use it anytime soon, but carrying it felt right, like a promise to himself.

You glanced up, catching his eye, and smiled, wiping your hands on your apron as you stood. "Back again, Logan?"

"Guess so," he replied, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Thought you might need a hand."

"Well, I could always use one," you teased, stepping closer to him. "But you don’t strike me as the gardening type."

Logan chuckled, reaching out to take your hand, pulling you a little closer. "Not much of a gardener, no. But I can stand here and look good while you do all the work."

You rolled your eyes playfully but didn’t let go of his hand. The easy banter between you had become natural, and the affection between you had grown, unspoken but undeniable. After a moment, you tugged him toward a bench under a nearby tree.

“Sit with me for a minute,” you said softly. “I’ve been out here all day.”

He followed, sitting beside you as the evening breeze rustled the leaves above. The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching the shadows lengthen as the sun began to set. Logan glanced at you from the corner of his eye, the warm light catching the curve of your face.

“You ever think this is enough?” he asked suddenly, his voice quiet but clear.

You looked over at him, eyebrows raised. “What do you mean?”

Logan hesitated, his fingers still laced with yours. “Just… this. Bein’ together. Doesn’t need to be more complicated than that.”

You smiled softly, leaning your head against his shoulder. “I think it is enough,” you said after a moment. “I like this, Logan. I like us.”

His heart beat a little faster at your words, and without thinking, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. It wasn’t a big gesture, but it felt natural, like something he’d been wanting to do for a while. You tilted your head up, meeting his eyes, your lips curving into a gentle smile.

“You keep that up, and I’m never gonna let you go,” you teased, though there was something softer, almost serious, in your tone.

Logan smirked, pulling you closer until your legs brushed against his. “Don’t see a reason to.”

Your fingers traced absent patterns on the back of his hand, your touch light and thoughtful. “You know, I used to wonder if I’d ever feel this way about someone,” you admitted softly, your eyes focused on your hands. “If I’d ever meet someone who made me feel… like this.”

Logan was quiet for a moment, watching you, feeling the warmth of your words settle deep inside him. He’d never thought he’d find someone who made him feel like this either—like he didn’t have to keep moving, like maybe he’d found something worth staying for. He wanted to tell you that, to say what he was feeling, but the words stuck in his throat. So instead, he squeezed your hand, hoping you’d understand what he couldn’t say yet.

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. The connection between you, the pull, was undeniable. Logan leaned in, his hand slipping to the back of your neck as he pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was slow, tender, like both of you were taking your time, savoring the moment. When you pulled back, your forehead rested against his, and for a second, the world outside the garden didn’t exist.

“I could stay like this forever,” you whispered, your breath warm against his lips.

Logan’s hand tightened on yours. “Maybe we will,” he murmured back, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

You smiled, your eyes soft as you leaned in and kissed him again, slow and sweet. When you pulled back this time, you didn’t say anything, just settled into his side, your head resting against his chest as the two of you watched the sky shift into shades of pink and orange.

The world outside may have been complicated, full of responsibilities and noise, but here, with Logan beside you, it felt simple. Peaceful. Like this was all that mattered.

---

One late afternoon, you were sitting on the porch with Ada and the boys, telling them stories while they played at your feet. Logan leaned against the fence, watching you from a distance, his heart swelling at the sight of you surrounded by the children, laughing and carefree.

“You look like you’re thinkin’ about somethin’ serious,” your voice cut through his thoughts, pulling him back to the present. You stood up, walking over to him, a teasing smile on your face.

Logan shrugged, trying to play it off. “Just thinkin’ about how you handle those kids like it’s nothin’.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Trust me, it’s something. They’re a handful.”

Logan smiled, reaching out to take your hand. “You’re good at it. I like watchin’ you with them.”

Your cheeks flushed slightly at his compliment, and you glanced down, trying to hide the small smile playing at your lips. “Well, you’re not so bad with them yourself. Edwin won’t stop talking about that story you told him.”

Logan chuckled, shaking his head. “Kid’s got a wild imagination.”

You leaned in closer, your fingers playing with the hem of his sleeve. “Maybe he gets that from you.”

He smirked, slipping his arm around your waist and pulling you into him. “Think so?”

“I know so,” you whispered, your breath brushing against his neck.

For a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away, and it was just the two of you, standing in the soft glow of the afternoon sun. Logan’s hand slid up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin before he leaned down and kissed you, slow and deliberate, like he was memorizing the feel of your lips against his.

When he pulled back, your eyes were half-closed, your expression soft and content. “Logan,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “What are we doing?”

He looked at you, his thumb still tracing soft circles on your cheek. “Doin’ what feels right.”

You smiled, resting your forehead against his. “Yeah. It does feel right.”

The sound of the children’s laughter broke the quiet moment between you, and you both turned to see Ada running toward you, her little legs carrying her as fast as they could. “Y/N! Y/N!” she shouted, her face flushed with excitement. “Come play with us!”

You laughed, pulling away from Logan just enough to crouch down and catch Ada in your arms. “Alright, alright! I’m coming.”

As you stood, you glanced back at Logan, your eyes lingering on him for a moment longer. He gave you a small nod, his lips quirking into a smile, and you turned back to the children, running off with them into the yard.

Logan watched you for a while longer, his hand slipping into his pocket where the small ring rested. It wasn’t time yet, but someday, maybe he’d ask. Someday, when the moment was right.

For now, this was enough.

And for the first time in his life, that was all Logan wanted.

---

“Mrs. Thomas is sick. She wanted me to pick up some things for her before the doctor comes to check her out,” you explained, adding a sprig of thyme to your basket and handing the vendor a coin.

Logan stood beside you, hands stuffed in his pockets, watching you with a casual ease that had become second nature to him. “What’s wrong with her?” he asked, though his tone wasn’t heavy—just curious.

You shrugged, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Probably just a cold. She’s been coughing a bit, but Mr. Thomas thinks she’ll be fine.”

Logan’s jaw ticked slightly, his eyes following the movement of your hand as it tucked the hair behind your ear. “You sure you should be around her if she’s sick?”

You smiled at his concern, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “It’s part of the job, Logan. Besides, I’ve been with her every day. If I was going to get sick, it would’ve happened by now.”

He frowned, not entirely convinced, but let it drop. You were stubborn like that—always brushing things off when they concerned you.

As you moved from stall to stall, picking out fresh herbs, bread, and tea, Logan trailed beside you, a silent presence at your side. It was comfortable—natural, even. You could feel him close, his arm brushing yours now and then, and though neither of you said much, it was the kind of quiet that felt good.

When you handed the grocer a coin for a small loaf of bread, Logan’s voice broke the easy silence. “You want me to walk you back?”

You glanced up at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Trying to sneak more time with me?”

Logan grinned, his hands still tucked in his coat pockets. “Maybe.”

Your laugh was soft and warm, and Logan swore it was one of his favorite sounds.

“You don’t have to, but I won’t say no if you want to,” you teased, shifting the basket on your hip. “The Thomases live all the way across town, though.”

Logan rolled his shoulders in a lazy shrug. “Don’t mind.”

With that settled, the two of you set off toward the Thomases’ estate, falling into step beside each other. The streets bustled with the usual afternoon crowds—vendors hawking their goods, carts rattling down cobbled roads, children darting through the streets. Yet somehow, it felt like the two of you existed in your own little world, insulated from the noise of the city.

“You been working much?” you asked after a moment, glancing sideways at him.

Logan nodded. “Yeah. Couple of odd jobs here and there.”

“Same ones?”

“Mostly.” He paused, as if debating whether to say more. Then, with a smirk, he added, “Not much call for a guy like me who’s no good with flowers.”

You laughed, the sound light and easy. “Well, I’m sure someone will take pity on you eventually.”

He bumped his shoulder against yours gently. “You already did.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile stayed on your face. “Lucky you.”

The walk was long, but neither of you minded. You pointed out things along the way—shops you liked, shortcuts you’d found, little bits of the city you’d come to know well in your time working for the Thomases. Logan listened, his attention fixed on you, and though he didn’t say much, you could tell he was soaking up every word.

When the two of you reached the tall iron gates of the Thomases' estate, you hesitated, lingering just a bit longer with Logan at the edge of the garden.

“Thanks for walking me,” you said softly, your fingers brushing over his for the briefest second.

“Anytime,” he murmured, catching your hand before you could pull it away. He gave it a squeeze, his eyes lingering on yours. “You alright?”

You nodded. “I’m fine, Logan. Just worried about Mrs. Thomas, I guess.”

He studied you for a beat longer, his thumb absentmindedly brushing the back of your hand. “You’ll let me know if you need anything, yeah?”

You gave him a small smile, squeezing his hand in return. “Yeah. I will.”

Neither of you moved at first, as if caught in a moment you weren’t quite ready to let go of. Logan’s gaze flickered to your lips, and for a second, you thought he might kiss you—right there at the gate, with the late afternoon sun warming your skin and the scent of lavender drifting from the garden.

But instead, he leaned in and pressed a slow kiss to your temple, his lips lingering just long enough to leave you breathless.

“See you soon,” he murmured against your skin.

You swallowed, your heart thudding in your chest. “See you soon,” you whispered back.

Logan stepped away, his hands reluctantly slipping from yours, and you watched as he made his way back down the path. He didn’t look back, but somehow, you knew that he felt the same pull you did—the one that always seemed to draw you closer, no matter how far apart you were.

With a soft sigh, you turned and pushed open the gate, your basket swinging gently at your side as you made your way toward the house. The sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the neatly trimmed lawn.

You didn’t know it yet, but the weight of that moment—of Logan’s hand in yours, of the way his kiss had felt against your skin—would stay with you. It would become one of those memories you’d carry in the quiet hours, long after everything had changed.

But for now, it was just another afternoon. And that was enough.

You slipped inside the Thomases’ estate, greeted by the familiar smell of baked bread and lavender from the garden. The children’s laughter echoed faintly from upstairs, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the unease you felt about Mrs. Thomas.

As you moved through the grand hallway, the weight of Logan’s lingering kiss on your temple stayed with you, soft and comforting. His presence, though absent now, always seemed to cling to the air around you like the warmth of a hearth after a long day.

“Y/N!” Edwin’s voice called from the top of the stairs. You looked up to find him peering down at you, his unruly curls falling into his eyes. “Can we go to the park after tea? Phillip says he can run faster than me, but I bet I’ll beat him this time.”

You smiled up at him, though your thoughts were still on Mrs. Thomas. “We’ll see about that, Edwin. But let’s check in on your mother first, alright?”

He nodded, though his face fell a little, understanding the importance of that moment.

Making your way to Mrs. Thomas’s room, you found the air heavier, a staleness clinging to it that made you pause at the door. You knocked softly before entering, the creak of the door barely disturbing the quiet. Mrs. Thomas lay in bed, propped up by pillows, her face pale and drawn. Her once vibrant eyes were duller now, and the small cough you had heard earlier seemed more persistent, rattling in her chest.

“Mrs. Thomas,” you said gently, approaching her bedside with the basket of fresh supplies. “I’ve brought some thyme and tea. The doctor will be here later this week.”

Mrs. Thomas offered a faint smile, though it barely touched her lips. “Thank you, dear. You’re always so thoughtful,” she said, her voice raspy. She shifted slightly, wincing at the effort it took. “I’m sure it’s just a little cold.”

You forced a smile, though something inside you tugged with worry. “Of course. Just a little cold.”

After a few more moments, you excused yourself, promising to return later. The house felt stifling, the sense of something being wrong making your chest tighten. Logan had been right to be concerned. But you brushed it aside, focusing on the children.

A few hours later, after Edwin had indeed beaten Phillip in a race through the park, and Ada had insisted on collecting wildflowers for her mother, the three children were settled with tea. You were cleaning up the kitchen when a familiar knock came at the back door.

Opening it, you found Logan leaning against the frame, that easy smile already softening the tension in your shoulders.

“Thought you might like some company,” he said, stepping inside and pulling you into a gentle embrace. The warmth of his arms around you instantly melted away the weight of the afternoon, and for a moment, you simply leaned into him, breathing him in.

“Good timing,” you murmured into his chest. “The kids are winding down for the night. Edwin’s convinced he’s going to be the fastest man in the world.”

Logan chuckled, his chest vibrating against your cheek. “Is that so? Guess I’ll have to challenge him one day.”

You smiled, pulling back slightly to look up at him. “He’d love that.”

There was a beat of quiet as Logan’s hand came up to brush a stray hair from your face, his thumb lingering just under your jaw. His gaze softened, searching yours for something. It was moments like this—small, tender—that reminded you just how much you’d come to care for him in these past few weeks.

“You alright?” he asked, voice low.

You hesitated, then nodded. “Just… worried about Mrs. Thomas. I don’t know, Logan, she seems worse than she’s letting on.”

Logan’s brow furrowed, his hands slipping down to rest on your waist. “She’s tough, right? She’ll pull through.”

You nodded again, though the doubt lingered. “I hope so.”

Logan leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours, the weight of his presence anchoring you. “You’ll let me know if you need anything?”

“I will,” you whispered, your hands resting on his chest.

He pulled back just enough to catch your lips in a slow, gentle kiss. It was familiar, the way his mouth moved against yours—steady, comforting, with that undercurrent of longing that always seemed to simmer just beneath the surface between you two. When you finally parted, his thumb brushed your cheek, his gaze still locked on yours.

“I hate leaving you here,” he murmured, the frustration clear in his voice. “Especially with her sick.”

You smiled softly, shaking your head. “I’ll be fine, Logan. Go home, get some rest.”

He gave a small grunt, clearly not thrilled with the idea of leaving, but he knew better than to argue when you got like this—determined and stubborn.

With a sigh, he leaned in once more, pressing a final kiss to your forehead before stepping back. “Alright. But I’m checking in tomorrow, whether you like it or not.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” you teased, though the warmth in your chest grew at his protectiveness.

Logan gave you one last smile before turning to head back out into the night, his coat swaying as he disappeared into the shadows. You watched him go, the familiar tug in your chest pulling at you again, but this time it wasn’t just affection. It was worry—a gnawing sense of unease that had been creeping in since that afternoon in the market.

You stood there at the back door for a moment longer, staring into the empty street, wondering if Logan could feel it too—the quiet, unspoken fear that something was about to change.

---

The next few days passed quietly, the routine of the Thomases’ household carrying on as usual—though the coughs from Mrs. Thomas’s room seemed to grow more frequent, more strained. You tried not to think too much of it, telling yourself it was only a cold, that the doctor would sort it out when he came to visit. But there was a part of you, small but insistent, that couldn’t shake the unease gnawing at your thoughts.

The children kept you busy, of course. Edwin was endlessly energetic, challenging Phillip to races and daring Ada to climb the low trees in the garden, much to your chagrin. Ada, sweet and delicate, clung to your side like a shadow, her small hand often finding yours as she babbled on about her imaginary tea parties and grand adventures. In their presence, it was easy to forget the worry in the back of your mind—at least for a little while.

But then, in the quiet moments—like when you helped Mrs. Thomas to her bed after one of her coughing fits, or when the house seemed far too still after the children had fallen asleep—your thoughts would drift back to Logan. To the way he had kissed your forehead that day at the back door, how his hand had lingered in yours just a second longer than usual, as if he’d sensed it too. That something was wrong.

You found yourself waiting for him. Every evening, as the sun dipped low over the city and the shadows lengthened in the streets, you listened for that familiar knock at the back door. And every evening, without fail, he would come—never too late, never too early, always arriving when you needed him most.

Tonight was no different.

You were sitting at the small table in the kitchen, a pot of tea cooling beside you, when the soft knock came. A smile tugged at your lips before you could stop it, your heart lifting in that familiar way as you crossed the room and opened the door.

Logan stood there, his dark hair slightly tousled from the evening breeze, his expression soft but watchful. He gave you that crooked smile that always seemed to make everything feel lighter, as if the world wasn’t such a heavy place when he was around.

“Thought I might find you here,” he said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.

You shrugged, the smile still playing on your lips. “Where else would I be?”

He chuckled, moving to lean against the counter, his eyes flicking briefly to the teapot on the table. “You drinking alone?”

“For now,” you teased, pouring him a cup. “But I suppose I can share.”

Logan took the cup from you, his fingers brushing yours in that familiar way, sending a small, warm spark through your skin. He didn’t move to sit, though. Instead, he stayed close, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than usual, as if trying to read something in your face.

“What?” you asked softly, the weight of his stare making your heart flutter.

“Just checking in,” he said, his voice lower, more serious than before. “You look tired.”

You gave a small, weary laugh, shaking your head. “I’m fine, Logan. Just a lot on my mind.”

“Mrs. Thomas?” he guessed, sipping his tea.

You nodded, glancing at the floor. “She’s getting worse. I’m trying not to worry, but… I don’t know, something doesn’t feel right.”

Logan’s brow furrowed, and he set his cup down, moving to stand beside you. His hand came up to rest on your shoulder, his thumb brushing lightly against the fabric of your sleeve. “If you need me to do anything—get more medicine, fetch the doctor sooner—you just say the word.”

You met his gaze, your chest tightening at the concern etched into his face. He always made you feel safe, even when you didn’t want to admit how scared you were. You reached up, covering his hand with yours, squeezing it gently.

“I know,” you murmured. “Thank you.”

For a moment, the room was quiet again, the sounds of the city muted by the walls of the house. You could hear the faint crackle of the fire in the hearth, the distant hum of life outside, but here, in this small space, it felt like it was just the two of you. Just the two of you, and the warmth of his hand on your shoulder.

Logan shifted slightly, turning to face you more fully, his other hand coming to rest at your waist. He tugged you closer, his expression softening as he leaned in, his lips brushing your forehead in that tender way that always made your heart skip. But this time, he didn’t stop there. He tilted your chin up gently, his gaze flicking briefly to your lips before meeting your eyes again.

“C’mere,” he whispered, and you didn’t need any more coaxing.

Your arms slid up around his neck, pulling him in as his lips met yours in a slow, deliberate kiss. It was soft at first, tender, but there was a quiet intensity behind it, a sense of urgency you hadn’t felt before. Maybe it was the weight of the unspoken worry hanging between you, or maybe it was just that every time you kissed him, it felt like it could be the last. Either way, you melted into him, savoring the warmth of his mouth against yours, the way his hands tightened around your waist as if he didn’t want to let you go.

When you finally pulled back, your breath mingling with his, Logan rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he let out a long, slow sigh.

“Stay with me tonight,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. You hadn’t meant to say it, but the words tumbled out before you could stop them. The thought of being alone with your worries, of facing the uncertainty of Mrs. Thomas’s illness by yourself, suddenly felt unbearable.

Logan’s eyes opened, his gaze soft but searching as he studied your face. “You sure?”

You nodded, your hands still resting at the nape of his neck. “I just… I don’t want to be alone.”

He didn’t hesitate after that. With a soft, reassuring smile, he nodded and pressed another kiss to your temple. “Alright. I’m here.”

---

The doctor had come by some days later bringing by news, Mrs. Thomas had tuberculosis. He gave her at least another month to live.

Mr. Thomas had instructed you to not let the kids near her as often, to make sure they don’t get sick. He didn’t seem to care much about Logan spending the night with you, or letting the kids be around him.

Logan had been spending more nights with you, by your request. It wasn’t something you talked about, just a quiet understanding between the two of you. The nights felt warmer with him beside you, the weight of the world a little lighter when you could lean against him. He never made a big deal out of it either. It was just...natural.

Tonight was no different. You sat by the fire in the small parlor, the children long since asleep upstairs. The flicker of the flames cast shadows across the room, and you caught yourself glancing toward the door, waiting for that familiar knock.

When it came, it was soft, almost hesitant. But you smiled, already rising to your feet to let him in. Logan stepped inside, brushing off the chill of the night as he shook the snow from his coat.

“Snow’s picking up out there,” he muttered, shrugging off the heavy coat and hanging it by the door. “Thought I’d get here before it got too bad.”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around yourself as you watched him. “I’m glad you did.”

He crossed the room, and without another word, his arms wrapped around you. You melted into his chest, resting your head against him as the fire crackled in the hearth. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his hand running down your back.

“You alright?” he asked quietly, his voice low. “You’ve been quiet lately.”

You sighed, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “I’m fine. Just tired. It’s… everything with Mrs. Thomas, the kids… I’m trying to keep it together.”

Logan frowned, his hands tightening slightly on your waist. “You don’t have to do it all yourself. You know that, right?”

“I know,” you said softly. “But I feel like I have to.”

“You don’t,” he repeated, his eyes searching yours. “I’m here.”

That simple statement hit you harder than you expected. You leaned up, pressing your lips to his in a soft, lingering kiss. He responded instantly, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, deepening the kiss as if he needed it as much as you did. It was slow and tender, and you found yourself pulling him closer, trying to forget the weight of everything else, if only for a moment.

When you finally pulled back, Logan rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your lips.

“You should sleep,” he whispered. “You’re exhausted.”

“Will you stay?” you asked, your voice small.

“Always,” he said without hesitation.

---

The nights blurred together. Logan was there more often than not, sometimes waiting for you when you finished putting the children to bed, other times arriving late after a day spent working. You hadn’t asked where he went during the day, and he hadn’t volunteered the information. It didn’t matter. When he was with you, everything else seemed to fade into the background.

The children, especially Ada, had continued asking why she couldn’t see her mother as often. It had broke your heart to tell her and the boys that their mom was sick, not going any further than that.

“They’ll understand one day,” Logan had said, trying to comfort you as you sat by the fire one evening. His arm was around your shoulders, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm.

You nodded, but the heaviness in your chest wouldn’t lift.

“I just want to help,” you murmured. “But I can’t.”

Logan was silent for a moment before he spoke again, his voice low. “You’re doing more than you think, Y/N. Just being here for the kids, for her... it matters.”

You looked up at him, your eyes searching his. There was something in the way he looked at you, something deeper than the usual concern. It was a look that made your heart skip, that made you realize just how much he had become a part of your life in such a short time.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before brushing his lips against yours in a slow, gentle kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, needing that connection, needing him.

When you finally pulled back, you rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Logan’s hand slid up to cradle the back of your head, his touch soothing.

“I’m here,” he whispered again, as if the words alone could make everything right.

And for a moment, they did.

---

You could tell that after a month and a half, Mrs. Thomas didn’t have much time left. Maybe a week at the most. She was so young, barely 30 years old, and already having to face the inevitable. Her coughing had become more violent, her body thinner with each passing day, and the sparkle in her eyes was gone. She was fading right before your eyes.

It had been a long day. The kids were more restless than usual, likely sensing the shift in the household. You’d spent most of the afternoon calming Edwin and Ada while trying to keep Phillip out of trouble. Ada, in particular, had been clingy, holding onto your skirt as you moved about the house, asking you why her mother wasn’t coming out of her room anymore.

You gave her the same answer as always. “Your mama’s just resting, sweetheart.”

But even she seemed to sense something was off.

By the time the sun had started to set, you felt the exhaustion in your bones. You barely touched your dinner, pushing food around your plate before giving up entirely. It wasn’t just the physical tiredness, though. It was something deeper. A strange ache in your chest, one you couldn’t quite explain. Maybe it was the weight of everything—Mrs. Thomas’s worsening condition, the children, Logan...

You hadn’t seen him tonight, and that small part of you that had grown used to his presence felt the void acutely. He had a way of grounding you, of making everything seem less overwhelming, if only for a little while. You didn’t want to admit it, but you were beginning to rely on him more and more.

As you climbed the stairs to check on the children, your steps felt heavier than usual. Fatigue, you told yourself. Just fatigue.

When you entered Mrs. Thomas’s room to help her settle for the night, she gave you a weak smile. “Thank you, Y/N... for everything.”

You smiled back, brushing her hair away from her face as you helped her lie down. “Don’t mention it. You just rest.”

Her breathing was shallow, the sound rattling in her chest. You tried not to let it show on your face, but inside, that gnawing worry had grown into a full-fledged fear. You knew the end was coming soon. You just hoped the children wouldn’t have to watch her fade.

---

Later that night, after the house had fallen quiet and the children were asleep, you sat by the small fire in the kitchen. You stared at the flickering flames, trying to let the warmth chase away the chill in your bones, but it wasn’t working.

You weren’t surprised when you heard the soft knock at the back door. Logan’s timing had always been impeccable, showing up when you needed him most, even if you hadn’t called for him. You rose from your seat and opened the door, letting him in with a small, tired smile.

“Cold out there,” he muttered, brushing the snow from his shoulders before stepping inside. He took one look at your face, and his brows furrowed. “You look exhausted, Y/N.”

You waved him off, shutting the door behind him. “It’s been a long day. Mrs. Thomas is...”

He didn’t need you to finish. He’d been coming by enough to know how bad things had gotten.

Logan crossed the small space between you and placed a hand on your arm. “You should be resting too. When’s the last time you got a full night’s sleep?”

You let out a tired laugh, shaking your head. “What is that again?”

“Y/N,” he said, his tone a mix of teasing and concern. “You can’t keep running yourself ragged. You’re no good to the kids if you get sick.”

His words hit a little too close to home. That lingering ache in your chest hadn’t gone away, and now, with him standing so close, it seemed to press harder, making it difficult to breathe. You ignored it, trying to focus on his warm hand still resting on your arm, grounding you.

“I’ll be fine,” you said quietly, leaning against him just slightly. “I just... I need you here. That’s all.”

Logan’s expression softened, and he slipped his arms around you, pulling you close. You rested your head against his chest, closing your eyes as his warmth enveloped you. It felt like everything else faded away when you were in his arms—like the weight of the world wasn’t quite so heavy.

“I’m here,” he murmured into your hair, his voice low. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You stayed like that for a moment, just holding onto him, letting his presence soothe the anxiety that had been gnawing at you all day. His hands ran up and down your back in slow, soothing motions, and you found yourself relaxing, your shoulders sagging as the tension melted away.

But that ache in your chest didn’t fade. If anything, it seemed to settle deeper, a dull, persistent throb that you couldn’t quite shake.

“I don’t know how much longer she has,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Maybe a week. And the kids... I don’t know how to explain it to them.”

Logan sighed, his breath warm against your hair. “You’ll find the right words when the time comes. You always do.”

You weren’t sure about that, but you didn’t argue. Instead, you pulled back just enough to look up at him, your hands still resting against his chest. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, you could see the same worry you felt reflected in his gaze. But there was something else too—something softer, something that made your heart skip a beat.

Before you could say anything, Logan leaned down, pressing his lips to yours in a slow, tender kiss. It wasn’t rushed or urgent—just gentle, like he was trying to tell you without words that he was there, that you didn’t have to carry everything alone.

You kissed him back, your fingers curling into his shirt as you pulled him closer. For a few seconds, it was just the two of you, the world outside forgotten. But when you finally pulled back, the ache in your chest flared again, sharper this time, making you wince slightly.

Logan’s eyes narrowed, concern flashing across his face. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you said quickly, brushing it off. “Just... tired, I guess.”

He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push it either. Instead, he kissed your forehead softly, his hands still holding you close. “You need to sleep. I’ll stay with you, okay?”

You nodded, letting him lead you to your small bedroom. As you lay down, Logan settled beside you, his arm draped around your waist as he pulled you close. You nestled against him, the warmth of his body soothing, but even as you drifted off to sleep, that strange ache lingered, a quiet reminder that something wasn’t right.

---

Over the next few days, you tried to ignore the fatigue that seemed to cling to you like a heavy blanket. You told yourself it was just the stress, the worry about Mrs. Thomas and the kids. But the truth was, deep down, you knew it was more than that.

Mr. Thomas had been around the house more often, spending almost every moment with his wife before she passed. It would only be a matter of days now. Her condition had deteriorated to the point where she was barely conscious most of the time, her labored breathing a constant reminder of the inevitable.

You moved quietly through the house, keeping the children occupied as best you could. Edwin and Phillip were rambunctious as always, but Ada had grown more subdued. She didn’t ask about her mother as often, as if sensing the unspoken truth everyone was trying to shield her from. You noticed how she clung to your side even more than usual, her small hands gripping your skirts, her wide eyes watching you with a kind of quiet understanding that broke your heart.

It was late afternoon, and the house was eerily quiet. The children were playing in the parlor, their laughter muffled behind the closed doors. You had just finished cleaning up the kitchen when a wave of exhaustion hit you. Your legs felt heavy, your chest tight. You hadn’t been sleeping well, the stress of Mrs. Thomas’s condition weighing on you, but this was different. Your appetite had been lacking for days, though you’d convinced yourself it was just nerves.

You leaned against the counter, taking a slow, deep breath to steady yourself. It would pass. You just needed rest.

Logan wasn’t due to visit tonight. He had mentioned something about work keeping him late, and you didn’t want to ask him to come by, though the ache in your chest—the one you tried to ignore—longed for his presence.

Shaking off the lingering fatigue, you made your way upstairs to check on Mrs. Thomas. As you reached the top of the stairs, you heard her soft, raspy breathing. You hesitated outside the door, your hand resting on the doorknob for a moment, before slowly opening it and stepping inside.

Mr. Thomas sat at his wife’s bedside, holding her hand gently. He glanced up at you, his face pale and drawn, the exhaustion of weeks of worry evident in his eyes. You gave him a small, comforting smile, though you weren’t sure how much comfort you could offer.

"Thank you, Y/N," he said quietly, his voice hoarse from lack of sleep and emotion. "For everything."

You nodded, moving to the other side of the bed to check on Mrs. Thomas. Her eyes were closed, her breathing shallow and uneven. She didn’t stir when you adjusted the blankets around her. The room was stifling, the air heavy with the scent of sickness, and you fought the urge to cough, your throat suddenly dry.

“She’s peaceful,” you murmured softly, glancing at Mr. Thomas.

He nodded but didn’t say anything. His gaze was fixed on his wife, his hand never leaving hers.

You stayed for a moment longer, but the fatigue creeping up your spine forced you to excuse yourself. As you descended the stairs, your legs felt weaker than before, and a dull ache had settled in your chest. You rubbed absently at your throat, trying to shake off the discomfort. It was nothing, you told yourself. Just tired.

The evening stretched on, the children finally quieting down for bed. You tucked them in, lingering for a moment by Ada’s bedside. She reached for your hand, her tiny fingers curling around yours.

“Will Mama be better soon?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, brushing a lock of hair from her forehead. “She’s resting, sweetheart,” you said softly. “Just keep being brave, alright?”

Ada nodded, her eyes already heavy with sleep, though the worry didn’t leave her small face.

Once they were all asleep, you returned downstairs, your body feeling heavier with each step. The fire in the hearth had burned low, casting long shadows across the room. You sat by the fireplace, staring into the dying flames, and let the silence of the house settle over you.

And then there was a soft knock at the back door.

Your heart lifted despite the exhaustion weighing you down. You rose slowly and crossed the room, opening the door to find Logan standing there, snowflakes dusting his hair and coat. He gave you a crooked smile, his eyes scanning your face with concern.

“You look tired,” he said softly, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “Really tired.”

“I’m fine,” you murmured, though the weariness in your voice betrayed you. “I wasn’t expecting you tonight.”

“I finished earlier than I thought,” he said, shrugging off his coat and hanging it by the door. “Thought I’d check on you.”

Without another word, he closed the distance between you, his arms wrapping around you in a gentle embrace. You melted into him, resting your head against his chest as the warmth of his body seeped into yours. For a moment, the ache in your chest seemed to ease, the fatigue lifting just a little.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Logan pulled back slightly, his hand coming up to cup your cheek as he studied your face. “You don’t have to thank me,” he said softly, his thumb brushing against your skin. “I’m here.”

His lips met yours in a slow, tender kiss, and you felt the tension in your body begin to unravel. The warmth of his mouth, the familiar strength of his hands holding you close—it was all you needed in that moment. When the kiss ended, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours.

“You need to rest,” he murmured. “You look like you’re about to fall over.”

“I will,” you promised, though you didn’t want to leave his arms just yet. You leaned into him, letting his presence chase away the exhaustion for a little longer.

---

The funeral was only 6 days later, 4 days after Mrs. Thomas’ passing. She was buried at the Prospect Cemetery at a small affair with rich people you had only heard of in passing.

The funeral was a somber affair. Mrs. Thomas was laid to rest under a sky that threatened snow, and you stood a little ways back, holding Ada’s hand tightly. She had been unusually quiet since her mother’s passing, and even Edwin and Phillip had sensed the weight of the occasion, their usual energy tempered by the somber mood.

You glanced around at the crowd gathered—a sea of dark, expensive fabrics, murmured condolences, and familiar faces. Most of the people you recognized only by name or through brief encounters at the Thomas house. They didn’t seem to belong to the world you inhabited, their whispered conversations and distant gazes a reminder of the divide between their lives and yours.

Mr. Thomas stood near the front, his face a mask of stoicism as he accepted words of sympathy. His children had not left your side, and you knew why. They found more comfort in you than in the strangers who seemed to only appear during tragedies. You didn’t blame them.

As the ceremony came to a close, Ada tugged at your hand. "Can we go home now?" she asked quietly, her voice barely audible over the sound of rustling leaves and shifting boots in the cold.

You nodded, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “We can, sweetheart. Just a few more minutes.”

You caught Mr. Thomas’s eye as he stepped away from the others. He gave you a weary nod, and you knew it was time to leave. You guided the children back to the carriage, helping them inside before following. The ride home was silent, save for the occasional sniffle from Ada and the creaking of the carriage wheels on the cobbled streets.

---

Back at the house, the quiet felt heavier than before. You could feel the weight of grief settling over everything, and it seemed to seep into your bones, making the fatigue that had been gnawing at you for days feel unbearable. Once the children were settled, you retreated to the kitchen, needing a moment to yourself.

But the moment you sat down, the ache in your chest flared up again, sharper this time. You tried to breathe through it, but the tightness only seemed to get worse. A cold sweat broke out on your forehead, and you pressed a hand to your throat, willing it to pass. It felt like something more than just exhaustion now. Something was wrong, but you didn’t have time to worry about it.

The back door creaked open, and you startled, your hand flying to your chest as Logan stepped in. His eyes immediately found yours, narrowing in concern.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice low but urgent as he crossed the room. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you muttered, forcing a weak smile as you tried to stand. “I’m just tired. Long day.”

But Logan wasn’t buying it. His hand caught yours, and he gently pulled you to him, his other hand resting on your waist. “You’ve been tired for days,” he said quietly, his eyes searching yours. “And you look worse now than you did a week ago.”

“I’m fine,” you insisted, leaning into his warmth without thinking. “Just... everything with Mrs. Thomas. I haven’t been sleeping well, that’s all.”

Logan didn’t say anything for a moment, just held you there, his thumb brushing slow circles against your hip. “You’re not fine,” he said softly. “You need to rest. You’re running yourself into the ground, and I don’t want—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you cut him off, shaking your head as you buried your face in his chest. “I just... I just want to stay like this for a while. Can we do that?”

Logan’s arms tightened around you, and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “We can stay like this as long as you need,” he whispered.

The warmth of his embrace, the steady rise and fall of his chest, calmed the rapid beating of your heart. It didn’t make the ache in your chest go away, but it dulled the edges for a little while. You stayed like that, your bodies swaying slightly, as if rocking back and forth would somehow soothe the turmoil inside you both.

After a long stretch of silence, Logan pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. His fingers brushed a loose strand of hair from your face, his gaze soft but serious. “You’ve gotta start taking care of yourself,” he murmured. “I mean it, Y/N.”

“I will,” you promised, though you weren’t sure how much of it was for him and how much was for yourself. You could see the worry etched in his features, and it made your heart ache in a different way. “I just... I don’t want to leave the kids right now. They need me.”

Logan sighed, shaking his head slightly. “They need you alive and healthy, not running yourself ragged.”

You knew he was right, but the thought of stepping away—of not being there for them when they needed you most—made your stomach turn.

“I know,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “But I’m all they have right now.”

Logan’s expression softened, and he leaned in to kiss you gently, his lips lingering against yours in a way that felt both comforting and urgent, as if he was trying to convey everything he couldn’t put into words.

When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re not alone in this, Y/N,” he murmured. “I’m here. Always.”

You closed your eyes, letting the weight of his words settle over you. It was moments like this, in the quiet after the storm, that made everything feel bearable, even when the exhaustion seemed impossible to shake. You didn’t want to think about what came next—the inevitable questions from the children, the grief that would continue to hang over the house like a dark cloud.

For now, you just wanted to be here, with Logan, in this fleeting moment of peace.

---

Over the next few days, that small cough persisted, annoying but easy to brush off at first. You told yourself it was just the cold weather, or maybe the exhaustion still clinging to you. But it stuck around, and soon it wasn’t just a cough. Your chest felt heavier, and there were moments where you had to stop to catch your breath.

You didn’t say anything to Logan the first few nights he visited, not wanting to worry him. It wasn’t like you were coughing up blood or anything, and you figured it would pass, just like the fatigue had started to. But when he saw you rubbing your chest again, his eyes narrowed with concern.

“You’ve been coughing a lot,” Logan said one evening, his arm draped casually over your shoulder as you leaned into him by the fire. The warmth of the flames helped ease the tightness in your chest, but even then, it felt harder to breathe than it had before.

“I’m fine,” you mumbled, tucking your legs under you and snuggling closer to him, hoping to avoid the conversation. “It’s just the cold. Everyone’s getting sick this time of year.”

Logan tilted his head, clearly unconvinced. “Y/N, don’t pull that. I know you, and you’re coughing more than you should be. This isn’t just a cold.”

You sighed, not wanting to argue, but the exhaustion weighed on you, and fighting him off seemed too tiring. “Okay, maybe it’s not just a cold,” you admitted, glancing at him. “But it’s nothing serious. I’m just run down.”

Logan’s fingers gently traced up your arm, his touch familiar and grounding. He looked at you with that steady gaze of his, the one that made you feel safe. “You need to rest. Real rest, not just five minutes of sleep here and there between looking after the kids.”

You gave him a half-hearted smile, reaching up to touch his face. “I know. But they need me right now, especially Ada. She’s not taking this well, and I can’t just leave her.”

Logan leaned in and pressed his forehead to yours, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re no good to them if you collapse from exhaustion.”

The way he said it—so serious, so protective—it made your chest ache in a different way. You knew he was right, but the thought of taking a step back when the kids were still hurting felt impossible.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, but your voice wavered just enough that Logan picked up on it.

He kissed you softly, slow and gentle, like he was trying to pour all of his concern into that one kiss. When he pulled back, his hand lingered on the side of your face. “You don’t have to carry this by yourself, Y/N,” he said softly. “I’m here.”

You looked at him, feeling the weight of his words, and for a moment, you let yourself believe it—that you didn’t have to do everything on your own.

But the next morning, as you moved through the house and got the kids ready for the day, the cough came back with a vengeance. It left you winded, gripping the counter to steady yourself as your breath caught in your throat. Ada was tugging at your skirt, asking for something, but the ringing in your ears made it hard to focus.

“Y/N?” her small voice called, but everything sounded distant.

You forced yourself to smile, pushing through the wave of dizziness. “I’m okay, sweetheart,” you said, though it was more for you than her. The ache in your chest was sharper now, and for the first time, a flicker of real fear crossed your mind.

That evening, when Logan came by, you didn’t have the energy to hide how bad you felt. The second he walked through the door, he saw it in your face.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice urgent as he rushed to your side. “What the hell happened? You look worse.”

You tried to brush it off, but the cough came again, harsher this time, and Logan’s eyes darkened with worry. His hands were on you, steadying you as you leaned into him, the warmth of his body grounding you again.

“You’re not fine,” he said, his tone more serious now. “I should’ve done something sooner.”

“Logan, don’t—”

“I’m taking you to a doctor,” he interrupted, his jaw set. “No arguing.”

You wanted to protest, but the truth was, you didn’t have the strength to fight him. You were too tired, too worn down, and part of you was scared. So you nodded, letting him pull you into his arms as if holding you close would make everything better.

“I’m here,” Logan whispered against your hair, his voice soft and filled with a tenderness that made your heart ache. “I’ll take care of you, okay? You’re not going through this alone.”

---

The next morning, Logan arrived earlier than usual. He wasn’t taking any chances, especially after the night before. You’d barely slept, your coughing keeping you awake for most of it, and when you did manage to drift off, it was only in short, restless intervals.

Logan helped you into the carriage he’d hired, his hands lingering on your arms longer than necessary, his brow furrowed with worry. He hadn’t said much since arriving, just a quiet “Mornin’” before ushering you outside. His concern was written all over his face, even though he tried to hide it behind a mask of calm.

You leaned back against the seat, closing your eyes as the carriage bumped along the cobbled streets. Each breath felt heavier, the tightness in your chest worsening by the day. You didn’t want to admit it, but you knew this was more than just a cold. The cough had settled deep, rattling in your lungs, and even though you tried to convince yourself it was nothing serious, the thought that it could be something more was gnawing at you.

Logan sat beside you, his knee pressed against yours as he kept a protective hand on your leg. Every so often, you’d feel his gaze on you, watching, as if checking to make sure you were still holding on. The warmth of his presence was a comfort, even if you didn’t say it out loud.

When the carriage finally stopped, you opened your eyes and saw the modest sign hanging above the doctor's office. Logan didn’t waste any time helping you down, his arm tight around your waist as you made your way inside.

The waiting room was quiet, the air thick with the scent of medicinal herbs. Logan barely let go of you the entire time, his arm never leaving your waist, and when the doctor finally called you in, Logan made it clear he wasn’t going anywhere.

Inside the small exam room, the doctor—a middle-aged man with silver hair and a kind face—greeted you both with a nod. His expression shifted when he looked at you, though, his eyes softening in a way that made your stomach churn with nerves.

“How long have you had the cough, miss?” the doctor asked as you sat down, Logan standing right behind you.

“A few days,” you said, your voice raspy and weak. “Maybe a little longer.”

The doctor frowned slightly, moving closer to examine you. “And the fatigue? Any weight loss?”

You nodded. “Yes... I’ve been really tired, and I haven’t had much of an appetite.”

Logan’s hand rested on your shoulder, a silent reassurance that he was there. The doctor continued his examination, listening to your chest with a stethoscope, his brow furrowing as he moved from side to side.

After what felt like an eternity, the doctor stepped back, letting out a slow breath. He met your eyes, and you knew immediately that it wasn’t good.

“I don’t want to alarm you,” he began, his voice gentle. “But given your symptoms and the sound of your lungs, I believe you may have contracted tuberculosis.”

The words hung in the air like a heavy weight. You felt Logan tense behind you, his grip on your shoulder tightening ever so slightly.

Tuberculosis.

The sickness that had taken Mrs. Thomas. The same one that had been lingering in the house for weeks.

Your heart pounded in your chest, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. You’d heard the stories—the way it ravaged families, the way it spread so easily. You’d seen it firsthand with Mrs. Thomas, watching her waste away before your eyes.

“How... how bad is it?” Logan’s voice was rough, strained, like he was barely holding himself together.

The doctor glanced at him, his expression serious. “It’s hard to say right now. Tuberculosis can vary greatly in severity. We’ll need to monitor her closely. Rest, proper care, and keeping her away from others as much as possible will be essential.”

You tried to swallow, but your throat felt tight. “What... what do we do now?”

The doctor sighed. “We’ll start with treatment to help ease the symptoms—medicinal herbs, rest, and a strict diet. It’s crucial that you avoid any further exertion. You’ll need to isolate yourself to prevent it from spreading.”

You nodded, but your mind was spinning. The thought of being confined, of having to stay away from the children—it made your chest tighten even more. How were you supposed to care for them when you couldn’t even take care of yourself?

Logan crouched down in front of you, his eyes searching yours as he held your hands in his. “We’ll figure this out, okay?” he said softly. “You’ll rest, and I’ll help with the kids. You’re not doing this alone.”

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away. You didn’t want to cry, didn’t want Logan to see how scared you really were.

“I don’t want to leave them,” you whispered, your voice shaking. “They need me.”

“I know,” Logan murmured, his thumb rubbing soothing circles against your hand. “But they need you healthy, Y/N. And I need you healthy.”

You looked at him, your heart aching at the sight of his worry. He was trying so hard to be strong for you, to keep it together, but you could see the fear in his eyes—the same fear you felt deep in your bones.

“We’ll get through this,” he said firmly. “You’re not going anywhere, okay? Not without a fight.”

You nodded, squeezing his hands as tightly as you could. Logan stayed close, his presence a steady, comforting force as the weight of the diagnosis settled over you both.

---

Weeks passed, and the house became quieter. The children were kept at a distance, the once lively home now feeling more like a tomb as you spent your days in bed, trying to gather what little strength you had left. Logan had taken over your duties, ensuring the children were cared for while also staying close to you.

Your body grew weaker with each passing day, the illness creeping deeper into your lungs. The once mild cough had turned into something far more painful, leaving you breathless and exhausted after every fit. You knew, deep down, that the end was approaching. You could feel it in the way your energy dwindled, the way even opening your eyes took effort.

Logan, on the other hand, refused to give up. He never spoke of what was coming, never let on that he saw the same inevitable truth. Instead, he clung to hope, pushing you to eat, to drink, to rest. His presence was a constant, grounding you even in your weakest moments.

Sometimes you even talked about the future, the one you knew you would never have, and the one Logan hoped you would, with him.

Your coughing fit had died down for now, leaving you in bed with your head resting against Logan’s shoulder. His arm was wrapped protectively around you, and the warmth of his body gave you a sense of comfort, even when the pain in your chest didn’t. You took in a shaky breath and spoke softly.

“I’ve always wanted a dog,” you murmured, your voice still weak. “Maybe two.”

Logan shifted slightly, his chin resting on top of your head. “Yeah? What kind?”

You shrugged, smiling a little. “Doesn’t really matter. I just like the idea of having something waiting for me at home, you know? Something happy to see me, no matter what kind of day I’ve had.”

He chuckled quietly, the sound vibrating through his chest. “You’d be a good dog mom.”

You looked up at him, a playful glint in your tired eyes. “You think?”

“Definitely. You’ve already got all the practice with the kids.” He paused, his thumb gently brushing the back of your hand. “Except maybe the dog would be less trouble.”

You laughed, but it turned into a cough, and you quickly brought a hand to your mouth. Logan tensed beside you, waiting until the coughing subsided before speaking again.

“You’re gonna get better, Y/N,” he said softly, his voice firm, but the edge of worry was clear. “We’ll get you that dog. Or two.”

You didn’t respond right away. You wanted to believe him—really, you did—but each day you felt weaker, and it was getting harder to ignore the reality of your situation. But you also didn’t want to drag him down with your fears, so you leaned into him instead, letting the moment linger.

You put your chin on his shoulder, looking up at him, “how many kids would you want?”

Logan looked at you, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Kids, huh?” His voice was warm, teasing, but there was something tender in the way he looked at you, like he was imagining it for real.

“Yeah,” you said, resting your chin on his shoulder, eyes searching his face. “I know it’s kind of silly to think about right now, but... I like the idea. You?”

He took a breath, his fingers tracing absent patterns on your arm. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Never really thought much about it until you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Until me?”

Logan chuckled softly. “Yeah. Before you, I wasn’t really thinkin’ about things like... a future, you know? I didn’t even know if I’d stay in the city long. But now... now I think about things I never used to.” He paused, glancing down at your hand, his fingers interlacing with yours. “Like kids, and... us.”

Your heart fluttered at that, the weight of his words settling in. He’d never said anything like that before—nothing about the future beyond today or tomorrow. It wasn’t like either of you knew what was coming, especially now, but hearing him say that he thought about you in that way made everything feel more real. More possible.

You grinned, nudging him playfully. “So, how many then? Two? Three?”

Logan laughed quietly. “Two sounds good. Just enough to keep us on our toes, but not so many we lose our minds.”

You giggled, a sound that quickly turned into a cough, and Logan’s smile faded a little, worry creeping back into his eyes. But he didn’t say anything. Instead, he just held you closer, his arms wrapping around you like he could shield you from everything bad in the world.

Once the cough subsided, you leaned your head back against his chest. “I think you’d be a good dad, Logan.”

His hand stilled against your arm. “You think?”

“Yeah,” you said softly. “You’re good with the kids now, even if you don’t realize it. They like you, trust you. You’d protect them... care for them.”

Logan was quiet for a moment, and you could feel the weight of his thoughts. “I’d try,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

The warmth of his body, the steadiness of his presence—it was enough to make you forget, for just a little while, how weak you felt. You closed your eyes, letting yourself sink into the comfort of him, of this moment, even though you knew it wouldn’t last.

“Do you ever wonder what it’d be like?” you asked quietly. “If we didn’t have to worry about... this.” You gestured vaguely, meaning the illness, the uncertainty, all of it.

“All the time,” Logan murmured. “But we’ve still got time, Y/N. I’m not giving up on you.”

You opened your eyes, looking up at him. “You really think we’ll make it through this?”

Logan’s gaze was unwavering. “I know we will.”

His confidence, his belief in you, in this, made your heart ache in the best way. You wanted to believe him, wanted to hold onto that hope, even though the fear lingered in the back of your mind.

“You don’t have to be so tough all the time,” Logan said gently, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. “It’s okay to lean on me.”

You looked at him, your chest tight for a different reason now. “I know.”

And you did. Logan was always there, steady and unshakable, even when you felt like you were falling apart. You didn’t have to do this alone, even if part of you still felt like you should.

Logan leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than usual. “I’m with you, Y/N,” he whispered. “No matter what.”

You closed your eyes again, savoring the warmth of his kiss, the feeling of his arms around you. For now, that was enough.

But even as you rested against him, part of you couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that your time was running out.

---

Logan hated the fact that everything you said was in past tense. How you would’ve liked to learn how to bake bread in that cabin you wanted.

How you would’ve liked to learn how to crochet.

Logan sat on the edge of the bed, watching you with a quiet intensity. You had been talking again, your voice soft and tired, about all the things you wished you had more time to do. It was starting to drive him crazy—the way you spoke in past tense, like you were already halfway gone.

“Would’ve liked to learn how to crochet,” he repeated softly, his eyes never leaving your face.

You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “Yeah. I always thought it’d be nice to make something with my hands. You know, like a blanket or something... for the cabin.”

Logan’s chest tightened. He hated this—hated that you were talking about all these little dreams like they were out of reach. He leaned forward, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “You’re gonna be fine, Y/N,” he said, trying to sound more certain than he felt. “You’ll still have time for all that.”

You met his gaze, your eyes soft but filled with something else—something that made his heart ache. “Logan...”

“No,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “You don’t get to talk like that. We’re gonna get you through this.”

You let out a soft sigh, your hand coming up to touch his cheek. “You don’t always have to be strong, you know. It’s okay to be scared.”

“I’m not scared,” Logan said quickly, though the way he gripped your hand a little tighter gave him away. He wasn’t ready to admit it—to you, to himself—that the thought of losing you scared him more than anything he’d ever faced.

You smiled faintly, shifting on the bed so you could lean into him. “I know you, Logan. You don’t have to pretend for me.”

Logan felt his throat tighten as you pressed closer to him. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his chest, trying to hold on to the moment for as long as he could. Your body felt so fragile against his, like you could break if he held you too tight. But he needed to feel you, to remind himself that you were still here.

“Don’t,” Logan said, his voice thick with emotion. “Don’t talk like that.” He looked away for a second, trying to regain control of the storm raging inside him. He didn’t want to hear the finality in your voice, didn’t want to acknowledge the possibility that you might slip away from him.

You reached out, your hand trembling slightly as you touched his cheek. “Logan, you know as well as I do...”

“No,” he repeated, cutting you off again, his voice gruff but shaky. His hand covered yours, pressing it gently against his face. “I’m not losing you. I don’t care what the doctor says. We’ll fight this. We’ll get through it.”

There was a long silence between you, the air heavy with the unspoken truth. You didn’t have the heart to argue with him, but you knew. You could feel it in your bones, in the way your body was failing you little by little every day. But Logan’s refusal to accept that reality made you love him even more, even if it hurt.

You gave him a sad smile, your eyes locking with his. “I love you, Logan.”

His breath caught, and for a moment, he couldn’t speak. The weight of those words—words you’d both danced around but never truly said—hit him like a punch to the gut. He leaned in close, his forehead resting against yours, his voice barely a whisper.

“I love you too, Y/N,” he finally said, his voice breaking just a little.

You closed your eyes, letting the warmth of his words wash over you. It wasn’t fair, any of this. You’d only just begun to imagine a life with him, and now that future was slipping through your fingers.

Logan held you tighter, his arms wrapped around you as if he could protect you from everything, even death. He kissed your forehead, then your cheek, before pressing a final, lingering kiss to your lips. It wasn’t passionate or desperate—just soft, filled with all the love he hadn’t yet had the chance to show you.

“I’m here,” he whispered again, his lips brushing against your skin. “Always.”

And for a moment, despite the pain, despite everything, you believed him. Because even if the future was uncertain, even if you didn’t have much time left, you had this. You had him. And for now, that was enough.

---

Nothing had worked, and nothing was working.

You had already accepted your fate, but Logan couldn’t—no matter how many times you tried to explain. He kept his focus on you, his stubborn hope unwavering, even though you both knew time was running out.

“You’re gonna be fine, Y/N. You’ll see,” he said softly, sitting beside you on the bed. He brushed a hand through your hair, his touch gentle, but the worry in his eyes was impossible to miss.

You looked up at him, your chest tight—not from the sickness, but from the overwhelming love you felt for him in that moment. “Logan... we need to talk about this.”

He shook his head immediately, his jaw clenched. “No, we don’t. We don’t have to talk about anything like that. You’re gonna get better, and we’ll figure everything out.” His voice cracked just a little at the end, betraying the fear he was trying to hide.

You reached for his hand, your fingers trembling as they closed around his. “I don’t want to pretend anymore. I don’t want to spend what little time we have left lying to ourselves.”

Logan looked down at your intertwined hands, his thumb tracing slow circles on your skin. “But I can’t... I can’t think about losing you.”

“You don’t have to think about it,” you whispered, leaning your head against his shoulder. “But we need to be honest with each other. I’m not getting better, Logan. We both know that.”

His whole body tensed beside you, and he turned his head away as if looking anywhere but at you would somehow make your words less real. “I can’t... I can’t lose you, Y/N.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and leaned closer, pressing your lips softly to his jaw. “I love you, Logan. That’s all that matters to me right now.”

His breath hitched, and for a long moment, he didn’t say anything. He just sat there, holding you as if he could protect you from the inevitable, his arms tightening around you.

After a while, he finally spoke, his voice barely a whisper. “I love you too. More than anything. That’s why I’m not giving up.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him, your heart breaking for him. “I know you’re trying to protect me... but I don’t want you to carry this alone. I need you to be here with me, in this moment, not fighting something we can’t change.”

Logan’s eyes met yours, and for a second, the wall he’d built around himself seemed to crack. “I don’t know how to do that,” he admitted. “I don’t know how to just... be.”

“You don’t have to be strong all the time,” you whispered, your hand reaching up to cup his cheek. “You can let go.”

His eyes softened, and before you could say anything else, Logan leaned in and kissed you—soft, but with an intensity that made your heart ache. It was a kiss that said everything he couldn’t put into words: the fear, the love, the desperation to hold onto whatever time you had left.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath shaky. “I don’t know how to say goodbye,” he whispered.

You closed your eyes, your hand still resting on his cheek. “We don’t have to say goodbye yet. Just stay with me. That’s all I want.”

Logan didn’t respond with words. Instead, he held you tighter, his arms wrapping around you as if he could keep you with him through sheer willpower alone. You could feel the tremble in his hands, the way his breath hitched every now and then like he was fighting back tears.

For a while, you both stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, the world outside fading into nothingness. There was no cough, no sickness, no uncertainty—just the warmth of Logan’s body against yours and the steady beat of his heart beneath your hand.

Eventually, you spoke, your voice barely audible. “I wish we had more time.”

Logan’s grip tightened slightly. “Me too.”

You felt a lump in your throat, but you forced a small smile. “You know... if things were different, I think we’d have had a pretty good life together.”

Logan’s voice was thick with emotion as he replied, “We still will. Somehow... someday.”

You leaned your head against his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. “Maybe in another life.”

Logan didn’t say anything, but you could feel the way his body stiffened, like he couldn’t stand the thought of losing you again—even in another life.

“You don’t have to be alone, Logan,” you whispered, your voice soft but filled with all the love you had left. “Promise me you won’t shut yourself off.”

He was silent for a long moment, and when he finally spoke, his voice was rough and raw. “I can’t promise that.”

You smiled faintly, knowing that was the best you were going to get from him. “Just... don’t forget me.”

Logan leaned down and pressed another kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a long time. “I could never forget you.”

The room was quiet after that, the only sound the soft rustling of the blankets as Logan adjusted you in his arms, pulling you closer.

You closed your eyes, feeling the exhaustion creeping in again, but this time it didn’t feel so overwhelming. With Logan’s warmth surrounding you, with his quiet strength holding you up, you felt at peace.

---

You had passed away in your sleep that night, in Logan’s arms. He had stayed up, something in his subconscious telling him to keep his eye on you.

And he did, he felt you take your last breath; one that didn’t seem as painful as when you were awake.

Logan held you close, his arms tightening around you instinctively as he realized what had just happened. His mind refused to process it, refused to accept that this was it. He stared at you, his chest rising and falling in rhythm with breaths that felt foreign in his own body. You weren’t moving anymore, not even the faintest stir.

For a long time, he didn’t let go. He couldn’t. His arms stayed wrapped around you, his face buried in your hair, willing his warmth into your body as if that could somehow bring you back.

"Y/N..." he whispered, his voice broken. He lifted his head slightly, his thumb brushing your cold cheek. "Please... wake up."

There was no answer.

Logan swallowed hard, his throat burning, his chest tightening. His hand trembled as it caressed your face, fingers gently tucking your hair behind your ear like he’d done a hundred times before. But this time, there was no playful smile in return. No teasing comment about how messy your hair always was.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

He let out a shaky breath, his other hand clutching the bedsheet, the weight of what had happened finally starting to crush him. He knew this moment was coming—he’d known it for weeks, maybe even months—but now that it was here, it didn’t feel real. He couldn’t understand how it had come to this, how someone as full of life as you could just... stop.

“Y/N... don’t do this... please,” he whispered again, his voice barely audible as if saying it any louder would make it more true. His hand lingered on your cheek, hoping for even the smallest sign that you’d take another breath.

But nothing came.

He stayed like that for a long time, just holding you, feeling the weight of your stillness.

Logan had never felt so powerless in his life. For all the things he could do, for all the strength in his bones, none of it could save you. His healing couldn’t save you. The realization cut him deeper than any wound ever had.

At some point, he felt his chest tremble, felt the tears start to burn at the corners of his eyes. He hadn’t cried in years, maybe ever—not like this—but he couldn’t stop it now. Not when he’d lost you.

“I... I love you,” he choked out, the words falling from his lips like a confession, like an apology for not saying it enough while you were still here to hear it. He pressed his forehead to yours, his voice breaking again. “I love you so much...”

The room was silent, except for the sound of Logan’s ragged breathing and the ticking of the old clock in the corner, each second passing with an agonizing slowness. He wished he could turn it back, go back to when you were still here—laughing, talking, smiling. Anything but this.

But he couldn’t.

And the weight of that realization shattered him.

For the first time in his life, Logan had no fight left in him. Not for this. Not without you.

i'm not gonna lie, i definitely started crying while writing those last few scenes, even though i knew how it was gonna end

just a little note for everyone (i'll probably add this at the end of every chapter just cause it helped me when writing) in this chapter, logan is 22 years old and reader is around the same age.

tags: @seasonofthenerd @golden-ebony @planetxella @tighrenicotine @wittyjasontodd @cherrypieyourface @tumharisakhi @person-005 @zaggprincess2