#I'll wait for when I finish it to properly tag though

[wisteriasymphony]

this is my first part in a pair of pieces for Adrinette April Day 6: Red String of Fate! (I'm sharing it cause... I want to? I can do what I want lol)

[joelsgoldrush]

“give me the first taste” | 10k

logan howlett x f!reader

part 2 of “GUILTY PLEASURE”

"Your hungry flirt borders intrusion / And I'm building memories on things we have not said / Full is not heavy as empty, not nearly, my love / Give me the first taste / Let it begin, heaven cannot wait forever / Darling, just start start the chase, I'll let you win." The First Taste by Fiona Apple

SUMMARY: From the moment you first laid eyes on Logan, you knew he was a tough nut to crack. But if there’s one thing you love, it’s a challenge. As your relationship grows, you’re determined to show him that, in this universe, he can also be loved.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ fluff. angst. drinking. dirty talk. slow-burnish. age-gap (reader is 25). once again wade saves the day. domestic!logan. soft dom!logan. logan calls reader “kid”. they watch (500) days of summer. oral sex (f and m receiving). fingering. thigh riding. thumb sucking. throat fucking. multiple orgasms. unprotected p in v. creampie (i would say i’m sorry but i’d be lying)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: jeez. hi guys!!! hope you’re doing alright. this is the 2nd part to “guilty pleasure.” writing for these two has been a total rollercoaster, but god was it worth it. as i always tell you, english isn’t my first language, so if you come across any mistake and you feel like letting me know, there’s no problem. thank you so much for all the support you’ve been giving my posts. i’m happy strangers out there take the time to read my silly stories :)

A girl and a mutant walk into an apartment…

Actually, you’re still trying to come up with the rest of the joke. But one thing’s true: Logan’s about to set foot in your place.

You curse under your breath, putting both your hands to work as you struggle to open the door. “Fucking swollen wood. I hate humidity,” you mutter, glancing back at Logan, who frowns as you keep trying different maneuvers to get the door to function properly.

It’s a shitty situation overall. And having that gorgeous man practically glued to your back isn’t helping in any way. You can tell he wants to give you a hand, but you’re not having it—women in STEM or something of the sort.

“May I—” he starts, though you cut him off before he can finish.

“I’ve got this. Just need to—” you say, ramming your shoulder into the door with enough force to make it finally give away. Almost stumbling over the carpet but managing to catch yourself, you sigh in relief. Meanwhile, Logan stands still, scrutinizing you until you gesture for him to enter. “Welcome to the smallest apartment in New York City. It's nothing fancy, but it’s got everything you need for a comfortable stay on a budget. Make yourself at home!”

Logan narrows his eyes, the tiniest smirk playing on his lips before stepping inside. Each of his movements seems to be premeditated as he tosses his jacket onto the couch, surveying the room. A portrait of when you were a kid, probably six or seven years old, catches his attention. He tilts his head, picking up the picture to examine it more closely, and then flashes you a lopsided grin. “How cute.”

“Well, I’ve changed a lot,” you take the picture from his hands, returning it to the shelf where he had gotten it from. 

“Well,” he echoes, mocking your tone, “your beauty certainly hasn’t.”

His eyes bore into you as you meet his gaze. What amazes you most is that he’s being completely honest. In a heartbeat, you look away, wondering what’s gotten into you. Usually, you’re not this awkward—you’ve learned how to take compliments over the years, knowing how to smile just right, to flutter your eyelashes. To blush and giggle in command. Those were the tools that helped you to survive countless first dates—your dearest aces up your sleeve.

There’s no use denying that they remained just that: first, failed dates. You hope you never have to go back to dating apps after this.

“Are you hungry? ‘Cause I’m starving,” you say, trying to walk away from him, although he’s faster, catching your hand in his. 

“Hey,” he urges you to make eye contact with him, his voice perplexingly soft. “Is everything okay?”

You nod so vigorously that you nearly strain your neck. “I’m fine, I swear. I just never get past this point.”

Inching closer, he presses his lips together for a split second, his brows furrowing in confusion. “You lost me there.”

“Guys who come into my apartment don’t tend to call back,” you admit, a flush creeping up your face, cheeks getting hotter. “I happen to believe it’s a curse, though I’ve kissed, like, a hundred toads so far and it still won’t break.”

“So y’think you’re gonna scare me off,” he raises an eyebrow, grinning. His rough fingers become gentle as they tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s sweet. Should be the other way around.”

Wow. You two are a match made in heaven.

As you detach yourself from his embrace and head to the kitchen, you decide to look for something edible in the fridge, finding different trays of food from days ago, none of which look appetizing or suitable for feeding the Tin Woodman standing behind you.

All of a sudden, the unmistakable metallic sound of Logan’s claws unsheathing rings in your ears, forcing you to spin around. The image that unfolds before you is peculiar, to say the least: he’s cornering your cat against the door.

Why is he about to fight a cat?

“Please don’t kill him?” you take a step in his direction and scoop the little ball of white fur into your arms. Logan stares at both of you, eyes squinted and brows knitted. “I’m sure he’s the cutest feline you’ve ever seen. Have mercy on him.”

“I didn’t know you had a cat.”

“Earnest wasn’t aware of your existence either,” you reply, scratching along the animal’s back. He purrs beside your neck, his yellowish eyes never leaving Logan’s. “Earnest, this is Logan. He has claws just like you.”

“Don’t you dare compare me to that,” Logan warns you, retracting his claws with a sigh. You can’t help but wonder if he ever feels tranquil, at peace. “Y’know, you’ve doomed him to bad fortune with that name. Is he at least toilet trained?”

“Are you hating on The Importance of Being Earnest?” you ask, expecting a retort, though apparently the play’s title doesn’t ring a bell for him. “Oscar Wilde?”

“Who do you think you’re talkin’ to, kid?”

Now’s your time to roll your eyes, setting the cat down and letting it run away. He likes to hide in the bathroom—don’t ask why, because not even you know the answer to that. You flick your gaze up back to Logan, placing your hands on your hips. “See, you gave him trust issues.”

“He’ll survive. Don’t they have seven lives?”

This is the perfect conversation to have with someone who just ate you out thirty minutes ago: how many lives do cats have. Jesus.

At some point, Logan flops onto the couch, stretching out. You shudder as you hear him crack his neck, the popping sound getting on your nerves. He pats the empty side of the sofa, spreading his thighs until he’s almost taking up all the space. “Come here.”

Putting aside all your thoughts, you accept the invitation. You sit down, motionless, and his arm grazes the cushion behind your head, pulling you closer to him. You rest your cheek on his chest, letting out a deep sigh, one that you’ve been holding in since you got to the apartment. Is it possible that he knows you craved this? This proximity, this kind of affection. To be held—it’s been your only wish for months. He drums his fingers on your shoulder blades, then starts rubbing your back ever so lightly.

Far from dozing off, you feel alive.

It’s hard not to lose track of time and space when you find yourself immersed in the warmth he offers, and that’s when you realize how deeply you’re falling for this man. “Logan?” the mere thought of asking him what’s been on your mind terrifies you. The last thing you want is to ruin things—or whatever it is that you have. He hums, a low, heavy sound in his throat, indicating you to continue. “I have a question.”

“Ask away.”

You lift your face from his chest and look him in the eye. The city’s still alive outside, with music and chatter sneaking in through the window. Everything seems to be perfect, and you wish you could stay like this—just staring at him as if he were a painting in a museum, and you the critic who can’t stop writing articles about its beauty.

Okay, that was… weirdly specific. 

Logan tries to hide his smile as you peck his lips repeatedly. For a moment, you almost forget what you were going to ask him in the first place. But then he’s ready to listen, and you a wave of nausea washes over you.

“I know that we came here to… engage in adult practices.”

“Fucking, you mean.”

“I didn’t want to be that straightforward, but yeah,” you say, shaking your head as to rearrange your thoughts. “Would you mind if we stayed like this?” to emphasize your point, you kick your shoes off and put your legs on top of his lap. He observes the whole sequence without daring to utter a word. “Don’t get me wrong. I’d love to try that too. I truly do. But… right now, all I want is to cuddle,” he’s still silent, making you even more nervous. “I’m sorry. Is that okay with you?”

His whole body engulfs yours, your cheek coming to rest once again in its original position. You can feel the rhythmic beating of his heart, each breath he takes, the air he exhales dampening your nape. Logan peppers your neck with chaste kisses before pressing his lips to your temple. His voice comes out strained, partially muffled by your hair. “Who do you take me for, huh?” he’s right there, beside your ear, fucking everywhere. There isn’t a single centimeter of your exposed skin that he isn’t touching, marking as his. You don’t give him an answer, in part because you’re unsure of what to say. He takes your silence as a cue to keep talking. “Let me take you to bed.”

“I can walk on my own.”

“I know,” he mutters, standing up with you in his arms, one arm beneath your knees and the other one under your shoulders. Logan’s not used to being this cautious, this patient with someone he’s known for less than two weeks. You see it in his eyes when he lets his guard down—something that has cracked, a shell that’s been broken.

As he places you gently on top of the covers, he lingers for a moment, crouching beside the bed and searching for your lowered gaze. His fingers are warm as he tilts your chin up. “I didn’t come here just to have sex with you. That was a possibility, of course—but it’s not the main reason why I’m here,” he rasps, words accompanied by the light brush of his lips against yours for a quick, brief kiss. “I care about you. A lot. I’m fine with whatever we do as long as I get to be close to you,” he grabs your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He then goes back to his usual bossy self, his demeanor changing. “And I don’t want to hear you apologizing for not wanting to have sex ever again. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now you’re making jokes?”

“I can’t have serious conversations,” you confess, observing the look of pure confusion on his face. “It’s true. I once spoke at a funeral and they cut me off forty seconds into my speech.”

Logan laughs at your sudden confession, his eyes crinkling at the edges. Rising to his feet, he begins to unbutton his flannel, pausing after the first few buttons are undone, waiting for your approval. “Do you want me to stay tonight?” 

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is what I want.”

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

His words don’t hide any real threat—that you know.

You stifle your laughter, shedding your clothes. Instead of going to the bathroom to change, you toss your work clothes carelessly to the floor, opting for an old pair of pajamas that are the complete opposite of sexy. They surely have seen better days.

Logan’s eyes trail over you, taking his time to analyze the faded lettering on your wrinkled shirt. “Keep calm and eat pizza?” he reads aloud.

“Hey. I bought it when I was seventeen.”

“You could use a new wardrobe.”

“Well, what about you?” you tease, toying with his belt. “You’re gonna sleep like this in my bed?”

“Can’t wait for me to get my shirt off, huh?” he grins, that all-too-familiar smile on his lips.

You play along, folding your arms over your chest. “You think so highly of yourself.”

Without breaking eye contact, Logan unbuckles his jeans, letting them pool around his ankles. He then shrugs off his flannel, leaving him in just his briefs and vest. You scan his body, and the room suddenly feels a hundred degrees hotter, the air between you thickening. Logan notices your reaction, chuckling. “Don’t get too excited. This is all you’re getting today.”

“I think I’ve already heard that before.”

“Kid.”

You raise your hands in surrender, showing him your palms and mouthing ’sorry’. Approaching your bed, you pull back the covers and slip into it. When you see Logan still standing there, you frown. “Where are your manners? Come here. I’m very impatient.”

He grumbles something under his breath, but he doesn’t make you wait long. He proceeds to get under the sheets beside you, occupying that side of the bed that’s always been empty. As you both settle in, facing each other, you can’t help but giggle, your contagious laugh getting to him. “What now?”

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper, tracing the bridge of his nose with your index finger, a featherlight touch that has him closing his eyes. In the soft glow of the night, with the city’s distant sounds filtering in, he looks breathtaking. “I mean it.”

“Do you have an off switch?”

“I’m… not sure. Let’s find out tomorrow.”

“You need to sleep,” he pulls you onto his chest with firm but gentle hands. He intertwines his legs with yours, holding you close.

“Wait. I have a game to play.”

“It’s late.”

“Please?”

He sighs. “Okay.”

“We have to make confessions until we fall asleep.” 

“You just want to talk—that doesn’t even qualify as a game.”

“It does in this universe,” you reply, feeling his chest rumble with a chuckle as you settle more comfortably against him. “I’ll start: remember the first night you came to the bar?” he hums in acknowledgment. “It wasn’t Burger Night. We don’t serve food. I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

He kisses the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. “I knew. You don’t have a kitchen down there, baby,” he falls silent, taking his time to come up with a confession of his own. “I have a fear of flying.”

“Really? You, of all people?”

“I wasn’t expecting to be judged.”

“Oh, don’t be such a crybaby,” you tease, burying your face further into the crook of his shoulder, inhaling his scent. He shivers slightly where your nose touches his skin. “I like you. It’s kind of scary, and I’m sure saying something like this probably goes against the rules of dating 101, but I do. I feel safe with you, like—like this is where I’m supposed to be.”

Almost as if the pieces of the puzzle finally fit together, you think to yourself, though the words stay unspoken.

You’ve come to learn that Logan’s not a man of many words—he’s more of the “show, don’t tell” kind of guy. So when he makes you lift your face, you’re not surprised by the way he kisses you: hungrily. Passionately, like a starved man at an all-you-can-eat buffet. A soft whimper gets lost somewhere in your throat as his tongue makes its way into your mouth, languidly stroking yours.

“We didn’t brush our teeth,” you whisper against his lips, laughing when he groans in exasperation.

“You love having the final say, don’t you?”

“I’m being serious, Logan. Cavities are a real issue for me.”

“You can always get new teeth.”

“But my morning breath—”

“It’ll stink anyway, and so will mine,” he responds, taking a deep breath and clearing his throat once he settles into his ideal sleep position. “Good night.”

“Night,” you murmur, nuzzling your cheek against his neck. Despite your efforts to ignore it, being cradled like this feels incredible. You can’t believe you went twenty-five years without it.

Just as you’re about to drift off, curiosity strikes. “Can you get tattoos?”

“Bub, I was actually falling asleep.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry,” you mumble, feeling a bit sheepish.

More silence.

“Logan?”

“Hmm?”

“What was the Great Depression like?”

“Fuck me,” he mutters, his voice gruff as he shifts lightly. “It was fine. Now go to sleep.”

And you do, but not for long. An abrupt coldness wakes you up, eyes wide open, feeling disoriented. It’s still pitch black outside, far quieter than when you first fell asleep. The clock on your nightstand reads it’s 3:17 am, though it feels like you’ve only been in bed for five minutes.

Then you see him—he’s twitching in his sleep on the far side of the bed, his painful grunts reaching your ears. Most of what he says is unintelligible, but there’s one word he keeps repeating over and over again without fail: “No.”

You don’t usually have nightmares. What’s the best way to wake someone from one? You’re still thinking when he starts mumbling again, his voice thick with distress, and now he’s throwing his arms in the air as if he were fighting off something—or someone—in his dreams.

Pressing your hands to his cheeks, you attempt to hold his face steady. He clenches his fists, his breath quickening the more he battles whatever’s haunting him. “Logan,” you whisper at first, subtly shaking his shoulders, but his eyebrows stay furrowed, deep in his nightmare. This time, you tighten your grip, fully sitting on top of him. “Logan. Logan! Wake up!”

Without warning, you’re on your back, pinned against the mattress. Logan’s straddling your hips, caging you in with his body, the weight of his adamantium skeleton pressing down. Your hands are trapped beneath his, and you watch as he clenches his jaw, teeth bared in a way that looks painful. His eyes are so dark and wild you barely recognize him, prominent veins throbbing in his neck with each labored breath he takes.

“Logan,” your own voice sounds unnatural, forced, as you do your best to bring him back to reality. “It’s me. You’re alright.”

That seems to get through him. Logan stares at you in disbelief, his eyes softening as they take in your terrified expression. He abruptly pulls away, retreating to the nearest wall. He’s gasping for air, slamming his eyes shut, his legs trembling. The only sound you can hear is his rapid breathing. You get up from the bed, taking a step in his direction, but you don’t manage to go any further since he stops you with a shout.

“Stay right there!” he’s growling, pointing his finger at you. “I’m serious. Don’t come any closer.”

“Logan…”

“Please, no!” his voice increases in pitch, not being able to meet your eyes. “Please. Just stay there.”

You comply, not wanting to upset him any further. Sitting back on your knees, you try to appear calm. A man so strong, capable of things you can’t even understand. A weapon turned against himself now stands before you, pushing you away as if his presence were poisonous. He slumps to the floor, the fabric of his vest soaked with sweat.

Once he’s fully conscious, you cautiously crawl toward him, watching his every move. On a random day, this might have been funny for both of you, but right now, there’s no room for laughter. Logan shakes his head, his shoulders tensing when you reach out to hug him, wrapping your arms around his broad frame. It takes him a couple of minutes, but eventually, his body sags against yours. For a while, neither of you speaks. You just thread your fingers through his hair, hoping the closeness will help soothe him. “Feeling better?” you whisper in the shell of his ear, and he pulls back to look you in the eye. You caress his cheek, his stubble rough against your skin. “Welcome back.”

“I’m sorry,” it’s the first thing he says, covering your hand with his. One by one, he kisses your knuckles, still shaking his head. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“You had a nightmare—it’s not like you could control it.”

“But I could’ve hurt you,” he says, lowering his gaze to your wrists, where his fingerprints have left their mark. “God. I’m so sorry. I have to go.”

“Wait!” you grab his arm, your mouth setting in a hard line, stopping him from leaving. “Don’t run away from me, not now. Don’t push me away, Logan.”

“I could’ve done something much worse.”

“But you didn’t. It was a nightmare, baby. You didn’t know,” you kiss his forehead, hoping to talk some sense into him. “Please, stay. Let’s try to get some more sleep.”

“What if—”

You hold his face close to yours, your noses brushing. “You won’t hurt me.” 

This time, he lets you keep him close, the roles now reversed. You can see him fighting his exhaustion, not wanting to fall asleep. But the more you play with his hair, the harder it is for him to stay awake.

“I’m alright,” he says, seemingly reading your mind. It’s hard to tell whether he’s reassuring you or himself.

“I know,” you knead his shoulder, aiming to ease the tension knotted there. “You better sleep, or I might start rambling again.”

A faint, tired hum escapes him, at long last allowing his eyes to close. “I like hearing you talk,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your collarbone, drifting off soon after that.

You continue to hug him, feeling the weight of his body gradually relax against yours as his breathing evens out. The room is quiet, but your mind is far from it: a tornado of emotions swirls within you—concern, relief, love, and something else you can’t quite decipher. It isn’t until sleep finally claims you too that your brain stops going a hundred kilometers an hour.

The most surreal Sunday night of your whole life.

“So… when will you let me see Lolo again?”

Wade’s question makes you stop mid-pour, flicking your eyes between the drink and him. A few seats away, you hand a glass to Adam. Returning to where Wade’s currently sitting, you dry your hands on your apron. “Why are you even here?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, and he gives half a shrug. “Last time I checked, I wasn’t holding him against his will.”

“He’s been crashing at your place almost every night. You have your own methods, woman,” he raises one finger, then quickly adds another, pointing at your shirt. “Two methods, in fact.”

At that, you laugh mirthlessly, shaking your head with a grin. “I’m surprised anyone would willingly date you.”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he retorts, taking a tentative sip of his beer and leaning back in his chair.

You glance at him while you wipe down the bar, looking for something to occupy your hands. “He’s not my boyfriend—yet.”

Wade mimics a punch in his chest, just where his heart’s supposed to be, though you’re starting to question whether he has one. His lips form a small, exaggerated pout. “That must hurt, doll. You got yourself into a situationship with a goddamn fossil. Good luck getting out of that.”

“It’s not that bad,” you say, rolling your eyes. “We’re cool this way. There’s absolutely no need for a title.”

“Okay, let’s rehearse that one more time because you look like you’re about to cry,” he lifts an eyebrow, drawing nearer. “You want the title, right?”

“I don’t.”

He props his chin on his hand, laughing at you. “Yes, you do. You can’t fool me.”

“I said I don’t.”

“I said I don’t,” he mocks you, kicking his legs and puckering his lips.

You can’t help but throw the towel down on the counter with irritation, giving in. “Okay! Of course, I want the fucking title.”

“There she is!” he exclaims, throwing his hands up in a triumphant gesture. “Glad we’re speaking the truth now,” he tilts his head to the side, noticing your sudden silence. “Hey, drop the long face. I’m sure he’s been thinking about it. In order to understand Logan, I usually compare him to elders over ninety.”

“Why would you do that?” you ask, your tone a mix of mild annoyance and curiosity.

“Just think about it! Senior citizens didn’t date for too long in the past. They’d go straight from strangers to lovers. Take my grandparents, for example: in the span of one year, they met at a party, then got married, and had five kids. Do you really want to have a litter of Logan’s grumpy, hairy puppies?”

“Wade, that’s not even possible.”

“The point is,” he continues, finishing his beer and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “Logan’s rusty in this area, alright? I’d bet a thousand dollars he probably dated Cleopatra.”

“How did you pass History in high school?”

“I never graduated, but keep that between us,” he lifts his shoulders, shrugging. He spins the empty bottle, contemplating his next words. “You should tell him how you feel and what you want. That’s what works best for Vanessa and me. It’s easier that way—you can’t expect him to just guess.”

You wrap your arms around yourself. “I just wish he’d realize it on his own.”

“Well, sometimes you need to give the other person a bit of guidance. I’m just laying out the basics of a relationship here. Did your parents hate each other or something?”

The irony of it all. “They got divorced when I was little.” 

“Oh, god,” Wade sighs, rubbing his temples before glancing at you. “Let me get this straight: Mommy and Daddy weren’t exactly the poster children for love. And you also happen to be a bartender. Anything else, honey? Please tell me you’re at least getting laid, because otherwise, I’m going to feel tremendously sorry for you and your mental health.”

Just then, you hear your name being called. Smiling at Wade, you mumble: “Saved by the bell.” Once you’re back from taking some orders, Wade jumps to his feet, coming around the counter to hug you.

“Dude, what’s the matter with you?” you ask, loosely returning the hug. 

“You’re a fucking survivor,” he whispers in your ear, genuinely sounding concerned. “I don’t know how you do it—you seem so put together. I would’ve lost it by now. A life without sex sounds awful.”

“Jesus, Wade! Get off!” you stretch your arm to punch him in the back, earning a groan from him. “Back to your seat, gentleman. I certainly don’t need your pity.”

“I’m a certified sexologist. Your secret’s safe with me,” he declares with a smirk, gesturing to his empty beer. “But first, I’m gonna need more of this tasty apple juice.”

“I hope you’ve got some cash on you,” you say, getting him another beer. “Why do I get the feeling Logan would kill us if he knew we’re talking about this?”

“Isn’t that what makes it even better?”

Swaying on your feet, you scrunch your nose, momentarily lost in thought. “He won’t let me touch him. I don’t know if it’s me that does something wrong. We do have our… moments, but he takes care of himself. And usually in the bathroom.”

Wade goes white in front of you. “How long has this been going on?”

“Over a month.”

“Oh. That’s bad, like, really bad.”

“Thanks! I’ll be sleeping on the highway tonight. You can always join me.”

“Doll, it’s nothing that can’t be fixed, alright?” he waves his hand dismissively, then sets his palms flat on the counter. “I know I’m starting to sound like a broken record, but talking to him is your best bet. This isn’t something you can just brush under the carpet. You’re like a goddamn radio—put it to good use.”

Just as you’re about to reply, you spot Logan entering the bar. You raise a hand in greeting, waving at him. He meets your gaze and smiles briefly, and so your eyes drift to Wade’s, shooting him a warning look. “If you keep this to yourself, I won’t charge you for today,” you mutter through gritted teeth, to which he answers by pretending to zip his mouth closed.

Logan takes a seat next to him, ignoring his presence. Instead, he focuses entirely on you. “Hey, kid.”

“Hey, homey.”

“Hiya, Wade,” Wade greets himself with a mock cheer, patting his own back, which makes you laugh. He turns to Logan and his whole face lights up. “I’m afraid to tell you I can’t sleep when you’re not around.”

Logan rolls his eyes. “Get your shit together.”

“You’re the worst roommate ever! Can’t believe you got yourself a girl and completely forgot about your bro,” Wade murmurs under his breath, just as his phone rings. “Thank God. I’ve got to go. My love nugget’s calling,” he announces, heading for the door. Before leaving, Wade blows the two of you a kiss. “I hate you both, but I also love you. Peace out, my friends!”

Logan and you exchange glances. “He’s a funny guy, isn’t he?”

“You could say that,” he replies, leaning in to kiss you on the lips. Logan intends to deepen the kiss, but you pull away after a couple of seconds. He frowns, clearly confused. “That’s how you greet me?”

You bite your lip, trying to suppress a giggle. “My tip jar is practically empty, and I hate to say it, but it’s your fault.”

“Do you want me to say I’m sorry?”

“Oh, no.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m not,” he plants a quick kiss on your cheek, making you smile. “You have classes tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, at 9 am,” you almost grunt, not feeling too enthusiastic about it. “I’m gonna need your help. I can’t sleep through my alarm, okay? The professor said tomorrow’s class is an important one. Midterms are right around the corner, and I can’t take the liberty of failing them.”

“That won’t happen,” he assures you, and you believe him. “I can be of help, don’t worry. You won’t oversleep.”

Oh, Logan. Sweet, lying Logan.

Turns out you ended up oversleeping. Twenty-five years on this earth, and you still haven’t learned not to trust a man, even if his puppy-dog eyes silently beg you to do otherwise. The thing is—you love them. You love men. And you’re especially fond of the one currently sleeping in your bed.

The first rays of sunshine hit your face, waking you up. You attempt to raise a hand to shield your eyes, but moving any limbs feels like a Herculean task. A warm body is pressed against your back, one veiny arm draped over your stomach. Logan remains fast asleep behind you, his steady breathing succeeding in making you feel at ease. You reach back, running your fingers through his messy hair, and he grumbles in his sleep, instinctively pulling you closer.

What a nice, domestic morning. Yep, you’re getting used to this. And nope, you don’t regret it, not even in the slightest bit.

Though there must be a mistake, because you’re preeeeetty sure you had something important to do. 

Oh. You have classes. Had—past tense.

You reach for your nightstand, blindly groping for your phone. The charger is lying on the floor, the plastic of it all damaged. Perhaps Earnest had chewed on it while you were sleeping? You gently pry Logan’s arm off you, sitting up, and your bleary eyes land on something barely peeking out from under the bed.

It’s your fucking phone. The screen is completely shattered, with three distinct holes in the middle of it. Three holes, how strange! You can’t help but wonder who might have left them. Clutching your pillow, you whack Logan in the face with it. “Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty!”

He groans, trying to take the pillow away from you. “What the fuck is wrong with you, kid?”

“I wish I had a UNO reverse card because I should be the one asking you that!” you jab your finger into his chest, showing him the ruined phone. “You broke my fucking phone!”

“What?” he asks, voice laden with sleep, still disoriented. He holds the phone, carefully scrutinizing it. “I think I don’t know how to hit the snooze button.”

“No shit, Sherlock. I believe you’ve made that very clear,” you huff, tossing the phone aside as you flop back onto the mattress. The clock on your nightstand says 11:05 am, and you cover your face with your hands, taking a deep breath. “Next time, when it goes off, just wake me up and I’ll do it.”

Logan settles beside you, resting his head on his forearm as he watches you. “I’m sorry, bub. I’ll get you a new one.”

“It’s fine,” you murmur, sighing. This is your free ticket to be a menace. “I should’ve known dinosaurs and phones would never get along. My bad, pal.”

You don’t even get to see his reaction because he starts tickling you, the room filling with your laughter. Squealing, you try to wriggle away, but his fingers dig into your ribs, expertly finding your most ticklish spots. Your giggles escalate into breathless laughter, your eyes squeezed shut as you desperately attempt to push him away. He’s relentless, chuckling when his own laughter bubbles up. 

“L-logan, stop!” you gasp between fits of laughter, aiming to grasp his hands.

“We dinosaurs love tickling people. Sorry, sweetheart,” he manhandles you until you’re perched on his lap, fisting the fabric of your (his) shirt. Leaning forward, he captures your mouth in a heated kiss. “I’m sorry about the phone,” he slurs the words against your cheek, his lips trailing down to your neck. You tell him that it’s okay, trying to find a comfortable position on top of him, and that’s when his thigh presses against your core, your eyes widening at the unexpected sensation. Logan’s no fool, noticing the way your breath hitches. “What’s wrong, baby? You woke up needy?”

“No, I just—” you trail off as he does it again, his strong thigh coming in contact with your clothed cunt. You search for leverage by placing your hands on his shoulders, glancing at him. “Logan.”

“I’m all ears,” he rests his back against the headboard, the tent in his boxers impossible to ignore. “You want to get off on my thigh,” he states with certainty. It’s not a question—it’s a full-on statement. He knows what you want, what you crave. “Come on then. Grind against it.”

You do as he says, not caring to think twice. You start moving, rubbing your wet pussy against his muscular thigh. The friction sends jolts of pleasure through you, and soon, you’re whimpering his name, your hands trailing down his abs. Why hadn’t you tried this before? It feels fucking amazing.

From his position, Logan stares at you, his lips slightly parted, eyes clouded with lust. Your arousal drenches your panties, soaking through them, the fabric clinging to his coarse leg hair. He glances down at the mess you’re making, his grin widening as he takes in the sight. “Goddamn, woman. I’m gonna make you clean it off, I swear to God.”

“Need your help,” you whisper, lowering your head, the heat in your cheeks intensifying. The coil tightening inside you is almost unbearable. A kiss is what you lean in for, desperate for more, though Logan appears to have other plans. He fists your hair, pulling at your nape and yanking your head back. The roughness of the movement pulls a moan from your lips, your mouth parched like a desert. 

“Eyes up here, okay? You look at me when I make you come,” his raspy voice makes you feel tingly, each word sending shivers down your spine. His hands fiercely grab the flesh of your hips, guiding you, helping you grind harder against his thigh. You think you’re on the verge of drooling when you catch the way his abdomen flexes, working to push you toward that long-awaited release. “That’s it, there you go,” he rasps, relishing the sounds he’s eliciting from you, each of your gasps feeding his desire.

Time slows as the warmth in your belly finally erupts, your eyes fighting to stay open through the aftershocks of your orgasm. No actual words leave your mouth, just a string of whines and moans, some carrying Logan’s name. He swallows every single sound you make, everything you give him, grunting as your legs tremble and shake atop him.

He lets you collapse onto your back, your breathing gradually evening out. “I think I saw fireworks behind my lids,” you confess, your mouth dry, expecting Logan to flop onto the mattress beside you. But he doesn’t. Through your blurry vision, you contemplate as he positions himself between your parted legs, getting dangerously close to your cunt. “Logan, what are you— Oh, fuck,” you moan mid-sentence when you feel him pulling your panties aside to lick a slow strip through your folds, collecting your arousal. He points his tongue, dipping it into your entrance, and you wince, squirming. “Santa Claus, is that you?”

Logan grins against you, closing his mouth around clit for a moment. He then shifts until he’s eye-to-eye with you, two of his fingers sliding into you in one smooth motion. “Give me another one,” he murmurs, his other hand slipping under your shirt to play with your nipples, pinching them. 

You never imagined two fingers could bring such intense pleasure. You just lie there, taking it like a good girl, as Logan sometimes call you. “Please, I need you,” you cry out, your fingernails scraping against his torso.

“I know, darlin’. I’m right here,” he rasps against your temple, moving his fingers in and out of you with more enthusiasm. But what he doesn’t understand is that you need all of him. Your hands itch to touch him, to feel the weight of his cock. The corners of his mouth turn up as he watches you struggle to find words. “Wish you could see yourself like this. Such a pretty girl, so gorgeous like this,” his fingers keep grazing that bundle of joy deep inside you, and he goes in for a kiss, the sour taste of your slick invading your taste buds. “Tightest pussy I’ve ever had. Need to stretch you real good before fucking you with my cock.”

Bingo! That last sentence does it for you, and you come for the second time in the morning, your cunt clenching and spasming around his fingers. You hide your face in his neck, mouthing at his Adam’s apple. He hasn’t trimmed his beard in days, and it shows because you can now feel a burning sensation on the soft skin of your inner thighs.

“You’re allowed to break all my phones from now on,” you suggest, only to hear Logan’s laughter in your ear. He snakes a hand through your hair, shoving it back away from your face. You feel him kiss your sweaty forehead, and as you press yourself closer to his body, something hard nudges your hipbone.

Absentmindedly, you trace the waistband of his boxers with your index finger, your eyes snapping to his face. Logan freezes on the spot, and it’s almost as if he’s stopped breathing. Without a word, he rises from the bed, his movements sudden and almost mechanical. You watch him, puzzled, as he heads toward the bathroom, the intimacy of just moments ago being abruptly replaced by a dreadful silence.

“Logan, is everything okay? Do you need something?” you ask and he pauses at the bathroom door, his back to you. For a brief second, you think he might actually open up, but when he turns around, his expression is neutral, masking whatever thoughts are running through his mind. At last, he flashes you a quick smile.

“I’m fine,” he says, his tone gentle but distant. “Just gonna take a shower. Then we can have breakfast together, right?”

You nod, his words easing the growing sense of frustration gnawing at you. He disappears into the bathroom, and the sound of running water soon follows. You sink back into the bed, staring up at the ceiling. You take your pillow and bury your face in it, letting out a muffled groan. There’s something he isn't telling you, something hidden deep beneath his usual gruff exterior. Although you try to piece together the fragments of his behavior, they don’t quite fit.

The minutes drag on, and the sound of the shower becomes a distant, constant background noise. You close your eyes, visualizing your happy place, but your thoughts keep spiraling. All you can do is wait—wait for him to come back and act as if nothing had happened.

Logan’s right there, just a few feet away—yet in moments like these, he feels miles apart. It’s one of those days in which, no matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to bridge that distance. 

It had all started with you asking Logan “Have you ever watched (500) Days of Summer?”

Of course, he had refused to watch the movie at first, and of course, you had threatened him with phoning Wade to let him know that Logan wanted to have a sleepover. That had done the trick.

You had asked for a day off at the bar, and surprisingly, your boss hadn’t objected. That turn of events led to this moment: sprawled out on the couch with Logan, the two of you watching the final minutes of your favorite film. Logan takes a long drag of his cigar, eyes trained intently on the screen. He’s only wearing sweatpants, which had caused your attention to drift from the plot a few times. The fact that you managed to sit through the entire movie without needing to pause it makes you feel particularly invincible.

Hey.

You again.

Yeah. I, uh, was just wondering if maybe after this, if, um, you— you want to get some coffee or something.

Oh, I’m sorry. I’m sort of supposed to meet someone after this.

Okay.

“That poor fella,” Logan murmurs, taking a slow sip of his beer. You look up at him from where your head rests on his lap, a contented smile playing on your lips. His fingers absently stroke your hair.

“Just wait,” you say, pointing to the screen of your laptop.

Sure.

What’s that?

Why not?

Okay. Well, then I’ll just, uh— I’ll wait for you.

We— we’ll figure it out.

We’ll figure it out.

“They’ll figure it out!” you exclaim, but Logan quickly shushes you, his attention unwavering.

My name’s Tom.

Nice to meet you. I’m Autumn.

When the movie comes to an end, you’re met with Joseph Gordon-Levitt breaking the fourth wall, staring straight at the audience as if he knows he’s about to get himself into a mess with another girl named after a season. You sit up, your eyes eagerly searching for Logan’s. “So? Did you like it? I’ve watched it seven times now. Can’t understand how it gets better each time.”

Logan closes his mouth around his cigar, inhaling deeply before answering. “Yeah, it was pretty good,” he says, his hand finding your cheek, thumb brushing softly against your skin. “Summer’s a bitch, though.”

“I respectfully disagree,” you tell him, grabbing his beer and giving it a try, only to grimace at the taste. Shuddering, you set it back down. “Why don’t you like her character?”

“Well, for starters, she did Tom dirty. Played with him like he was a damn rag doll.”

You raise an eyebrow, hugging a cushion closer to your chest as you lean back into the couch. “He knew from the beginning she didn’t want to be his girlfriend. Summer was clear—Tom just though he was smart enough to change her mind.”

“They acted like boyfriend and girlfriend the whole movie,” he scorns, placing his cigar down into the ashtray with a bit more force than necessary.

Is your first argument going to be over a movie? Exciting.

“Logan, they weren’t even official.”

“But she made it seem like they were,” he insists, the frustration in his voice growing.

“They were in a situationship—the perfect example, really. That’s not the same as being a couple.”

His gaze dips to the floor, brows knitted in a deep frown. “I think you’re relying on the technicality that they never used those titles. I mean, they did everything together. Isn’t that what normal couples do?”

Lord have mercy.

“Logan, who am I to you?” you inquire, crossing your arms over your chest.

He hesitates, narrowing his eyes, the question clearly catching him off guard. “You are—what? I don’t understand. Is this some kind of mind game you’re playing?”

“It’s actually very simple: if someone were to ask you about me, what would you say? Am I a friend? A bartender?” you inch forward, holding your breath, your tone faltering slightly. Meanwhile, Logan’s hands tighten into fists at his sides. “A fling? Your girlfriend? You complain so much about Summer, yet you can’t even name what we have.”

The living room falls into a heavy silence. Logan blinks slowly, his forehead creasing as he processes your words. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because these are the kinds of conversations we need to have. I understand you don’t want to have them, but I do.”

“Fine. Then tell me what it is that you want,” he asks, his mouth snapping shut when he sees you snorting in response.

“I don’t— I don’t know! To know how you feel, if possible?” you stand up from the couch, taking the cushion with you. You grind your jaw, gnawing on your bottom lip. “Why is it that every time I try to touch you, you push me away?”

He scrunches up his face, mirroring your movements and rising from his seat. “Bub, can we please talk about this tomorrow—”

“No! You don’t get to make all the choices, that’s not fair. Deciphering you isn’t easy, Logan. I’m not asking you to tell me everything you’ve been through. I just wish I could know how you feel about me. I can’t stand in front of you and pretend I don’t mind where this is going, because I’m more than sure I’m falling in love with you. “

“You can’t. You shouldn’t,” he says, his expression hardening. He turns his back to you, running his hands over his face in frustration before heading to the kitchen.

“Well, what were you expecting?” you follow him into the kitchen, finding Earnest on top of the fridge, beholding the scene with a curious gaze. “You basically moved in here, gave me a free trial of what life with you might be like, and now you have the audacity to appear surprised when I tell you I’ve caught feelings?” salty tears start rolling down your cheeks, and you spread your arms wide in exasperation. “Oh, but you’re right. How could I’ve been this stupid, to fall for the damned Wolverine!” you laugh bitterly, expecting him to break eye contact, but he doesn’t. “You think you’re so bad, so broken. Guess what: you’re not, because I love you, and I couldn’t care less about your past. You may think you’re unlovable, but you’re not, you hear me?”

For a heartbeat, the world seems to pause. And so he says:

“You are the most exasperating person I know.”

“Wow. Thank you so much!” you retort, your voice dripping with sarcasm. You run a hand through your hair, infuriated. “That makes me feel better!”

“Let me do the talking now,” he says, taking long strides toward you, and the proximity makes you lower your head. “You’re not getting the final say today. Just because I’m not over-sharing my feelings all the time doesn’t mean I don’t have them! In fact, I do. I may not express them openly, but they exist. And I wish you could see inside my head! You’d be delighted at how much time I spend thinking about you,” you cackle at his words, rolling your eyes. His fingers grip your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “There hasn’t been a single moment since the day we met that I have stopped wanting you. Your voice is like a goddamn radio that, no matter what I do, I can’t turn off. It’s like I’m infected by you, and I hate it!” his eyes burn with a mix of anger and affectionpur, his pursed lips softening as he continues. “No good ever comes from caring this much about someone. So excuse me for being scared of ruining the only good thing that’s happened to me in years!”

You hit him with the cushion—not with enough force to make him hurt, but enough to make a point.

“Drop it, kid.”

“I’m—” you hit him again, “not—” and again, “stupid. I know what I’m getting myself into,” as you attempt to raise the cushion once more, Logan takes it from your hands, throwing it on the counter. Your shoulders sag, trying to find the strength to keep going. “And I know for a fact,” you add, glancing at his conflicted eyes, “that the easiest thing for me would be to walk away from you, but I can’t. It’s too fucking late.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I do! These are my feelings, okay? Mine, not yours. You don’t have the right to decide who I love and who I don’t.”

Logan’s eyes squint, scanning your face. “You’re… obnoxious.”

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”

“And I—I love you,” he confesses, his nostrils flaring with emotion. Opening your mouth to say something, you close it moments later, your gaze locked on his. “You could take what you said, pretend as if I didn’t exist, and I wouldn’t say a thing, y’understand? I would move cities if you asked me, because I love you that fucking much, and I want you to be happy.”

You reach for his hand, briefly intertwining your fingers with his. Looking at him through your eyelashes, you rub your fingers over his stubble. “And what if my happiness comes from being with you?”

Logan lets out a harsh breath, his arm curling around your waist, pressing his chest to yours. “I can’t promise I’ll be the perfect boyfriend. I’ll probably makeplenty of mistakes.”

“Fine with me.”

“And you’ll be mad at me. A lot.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll make sure it’s mutual.”

Both of you laugh then, and you’re taken aback when he brushes his nose against your cheek, silently seeking permission to kiss you. His lips move hungrily against yours, trailing his hands down your spine, pulling you closer. He breaks the kiss and laughs at your eagerness when you chase after his mouth. You end up perched on his lap as he settles into one of your kitchen chairs. Logan stares into your eyes, his gaze drifting lower. “I won’t push you away this time. Not anymore.”

That’s your cue to finally do what you’ve been yearning for weeks. You fall to your knees in front of him, shaky fingers that graze the hairs on his happy trail. The bulge in his sweatpants is close to your face, and your mouth waters at the thought of having him between your lips. “Can I?” you ask, your voice a touch higher. 

He draws a long breath, tilting his head slightly. “You may, baby.”

You pull at his sweatpants and boxers, sliding them down his legs just enough to free his hard cock. As you take a look at it, you find yourself at a loss for words, the sight overwhelming. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the first taste of his precum as you envelop his head between your lips, that musky scent of his hitting you.

A whimper escapes you, and Logan hisses when you run your tongue along the slit, his hands gripping the back of your neck tightly. “Fuck, darlin’. Thought about your mouth so many times, but never imagined it’d feel this good,” he cants his hips up, causing your movements to stutter. “You can take a bit more, can’t you?” his question ends with a guttural grunt, his fingers tightening on your hair. “Gotta show me how much you want this.”

Logan takes all that you give him. You lower your head further, taking in another inch of him. Sex’s supposed to feel good, but this? It feels even greater. And he’s not even inside you yet, you hear a voice murmur in your head. The hand on your nape encourages you to move faster, and you sneak a hand between your bodies, grasping him by the base. You swallow around him, eyes fluttering open when he tugs sharply at your hair..

“Thaaaat’s it, honey. Just like that, want you to choke on it,” he grumbles, running his mouth just the way you like. The tip of his cock nudges the back of your throat and tears fill your eyes. You pull away to catch your breath, still stroking him as you regain composure. Logan’s gaze is intense, and he stares into your soul, his chest heaving. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Dick got your tongue?”

You’ll definitely get back to that joke later.

“Will you—can you—”

“Come on, beautiful. I don’t have all day.”

God, you love it when he’s mean.

“Fuck my throat,” you plead, your voice barely above a whisper.

A smile dangles on the corner of his lips. “We both know you can be nicer.”

The fucker makes your pulse race. “Can you fuck my throat?” you ask again, more insistently. “Please.”

He guides himself into your mouth, smirking as he watches how your eyes roll back in pleasure. “How polite of you to say please. Some good manners you’ve got.”

You whimper around him, your body responding to the rhythm he sets, fully immersed in the intensity of the moment. And for a while, you drift away, losing your sanity with each thrust of his hips, every tug at your hair. It’s almost impossible not to compare him to your past hookups. You try to recall at least a single instance when another man made you feel this way, but no memory surfaces.

Time seems to stretch and warp. You don’t really know when it happens—he pulls you off his cock, cradling your face, examining you. “You fucking love that, don’t you?” he asks with that sweet, syrupy voice, brushing away your tears. There’s no room left for embarrassment, so you nod, closing your mouth around his thumb. Defeated, Logan shakes his head, pressing his finger against your tongue. “I was planning on coming on your mouth, but I think I’ve got a better idea.”

In the blink of an eye, you’re in your bedroom. Not even a metaphor—he picks you up and basically runs to your room, closing the door behind him. You prop yourself on your forearms, trying to process what’s about to happen. Logan, already naked, climbs onto the bed after you, He kisses you slowly, tracing the curves of your body. “You still want this?”

“I do. I’m just… nervous, that’s all,” you admit, flashing him a quick smile. “It’s been two years of celibacy for me. Will it fit?” you ask, glancing down at his cock, and Logan stares at you in confusion. “Also, how many girlfriends have you had? Just curious.”

“I don’t think this is the time for that conversation.”

“You’re right,” you agree, lying back on the mattress, bracing yourself for what’s to come. “Were they pretty?”

“Bub.”

“Yes?”

“Shut up,” he replies with a smirk. “Focus on me, okay?”

Despite your tries to crack jokes at the worst possible moment, things escalate pretty quickly. Logan’s got three fingers inside you, pumping them in and out. He’s already made you come once with his mouth—to get you more relaxed, he had said. Wanting sounds slip past your lips as he doesn’t miss the chance to hit that spot that makes you squeeze your legs together. The tip of his nose drags long lines up and down the skin of your neck, mouthing at your jaw.

“I’m ready,” you mumble after some minutes, reaching for his cock and stroking him. “Let’s break the bed.”

“You’re lucky you’re this cute,” he says, catching your lips in a kiss. “Condom?”

“Negative, Sergeant.”

“You don’t have any?”

You shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek. “I don’t want you to use one.”

The way his gaze darkens doesn’t go unnoticed by you. His hand guides your face toward his cock. “Get me wet,” he commands, and you oblige, sucking him into your mouth. You hum around him, unable to contain yourself, and you hear Logan chuckling above you. “Can’t believe this is what it takes for you to shut up. Gotta keep your mouth full all the time.”

Once he’s satisfied with the way you’ve slicked him, he positions himself over you, caging you between his arms. Logan pins you down with his body, his hot breath mingling with yours. When you stare into his eyes, all you see is pure love, and your heart swells with affection. “Will you fuck the bad jokes out of me?”

Logan laughs, rubbing his length along your folds, grazing your clit for a fleeting second. “I sure as hell will,” he assures you, lining himself up with your wet entrance. He looks into your eyes for approval. “Ready?”

“I was born rea— Fuck!” you nearly scream as his head breaches you, your eyes squeezing shut. Turns out his fingers weren’t enough. “Fucking mutant dick.”

“You’ll love it, believe me,” he husks next to your ear. His arms shake where they rest on each side of your head, seemingly as affected as you are. Logan pulls out, and then fucks into you with a little more force.  “How are you still so tight? You’re killin’ me here.”

“I’ve got no idea, but you feel—amazing,” you gasp, latching onto his back, holding him close to you. His thrusts gain strength, and suddenly he’s bottoming inside you. “Oh, god. I can feel you in my stomach.”

“I know, baby, I know. Can feel it too,” he curls one of his hands around your throat, keeping you in place. From his position, he can watch the way your face contorts in pleasure. Lowering his head to envelop one of your nipples between his lips, he sucks hard. “You were desperate enough to get on your knees in the damn kitchen. You’ll be good now too, am I right?”

“Yes. Yes. I can be good,” you pant, eyes wide and pleading. “Anything you want. Just don’t stop.”

“I’m not stoppin’, princess. Don’t worry,” his mouth curves into a wicked grin as he drives into you again, this time even deeper. His hand on your throat tightens slightly, just enough to make you feel the pressure, grounding you in the moment. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs against your chest, his voice laden with need. 

Each thrust has you gasping, your body arching off the bed to meet his. Logan’s grip on your neck loosens as his hand slides down to grasp your hip. He squeezes your tender flesh, pulling you harder against him, as if he can’t get close enough. The bed creaks under the intensity, but you barely notice, too far lost in the rhythm of his movements.

“You’re perfect, all I’ve ever wanted,” he slips his free hand between your bodies to find your clit, and the moment his fingers make contact with it, you can’t help but whine. “So fuckin’ perfect,” you hear him repeat, more to himself than to you, his voice stranded as he tries to hold himself back, letting you chase your own release first.

The pressure inside you builds up, tightening with every skilled flick of his fingers. You’re sure you must look like a mess, sweaty and sticky, though the way he looks at you makes you forget everything else. “Logan, I’m—” you croak, the wind being knocked out of your lungs with each relentless thrust. “I think I’m gonna come.”

He picks up speed, snapping his hips faster. “I’ve got you, let go for me. I’ll take care of you, baby, I swear,” his pace becomes erratic, digging his fingers into the softness of your thighs as the headboard keeps slamming against the wall. Your body obeys him, a shuddering release tearing through you, moaning Logan’s name and gripping him like a vice. “That’s it, fuck, that’s it,” he doesn’t stop, driving you through your orgasm. His eyes snap to your face, contemplating how wrecked you look. “Tell me where—please, sweetheart.”

“Inside.”

“What?”

“I said inside. Come inside me, Logan.”

He’s not strong enough to deny you such a thing. Logan buries himself to the hilt, groaning your name as his cock twitches and paints your walls with his thick seed. Beside your head, his claws unsheate, tearing into the pillow. He ruts against you, his body trembling and writhing against yours, already apologizing for the pillow incident while pressing his forehead to your shoulder. “Sorry, I’m sorry. That hasn’t happened in a while.”

When Logan collapses beside you, he pulls you into his arms, kissing you eagerly. You return the kiss, wincing as you feel a bit of his cum slip out of you, rolling down your thighs. He stares at your glistening cunt without an ounce of remorse, and you close your legs. “That’s private.”

“It wasn’t very private a minute ago.”

“Logan?”

“Tell me, bub.”

“Knock, knock.”

He must truly love you, because he plays along: “Who’s there?”

“Ice cream.”

“Ice cream who?”

“Ice cream for you all night long.”

“Guess I didn’t succeed in fuckin’ the bad jokes out of you,” he teases softly, letting his head fall back on the bed. “But it’s fine. I’ll just have to keep tryin’.”

This is the story of how you end up dating a man who’s two hundred years old. But it’s also the story of how that same man learns to let his guard down and open his heart. So, remember this, kids: the sky’s the limit, especially when it comes to love—and yes, even when it involves dating mutants.

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

[waynes-multiverse]

Polaris – Chapter 11

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, angst, more serial killer shenanigans & a twist

Word Count: 5.3k

A/N: So sorry for being so elusive this week! Still playing catch-up on everything after being sick for so long 🤪 I'll be back fully by Monday and talk to you guys again soon. Meanwhile, I didn't want you to wait for this chapter, so enjoy 🤍

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 11: You With Me

Once you had waltzed right through those cursed glass doors of the hospital and ended up at the parking lot, you stopped thinking and kept on running – literally. Out of breath, you started the car and drove until the building was out of view. And before you knew what you had done, you had passed the town sign of Helena as well.

But your dire need for escape didn’t last long.

It would’ve been so easy to just keep driving and leave all of it behind you in the rearview mirror. Maybe your big pile of cow manure would still make a decent fertilizer for the local farmers. But the ache lassoed around your heart tugged you back.

Pulling over to the side of the road, you took a moment to clear your mind. Head in your hands, you let yourself fall back into your seat and took a few deep breaths. You only ever made it through one yoga class, but you remembered the breathing had helped.

Still, every bone in your body wanted to bolt and never see either one of them again. In your mind, you had already asked your boss for a transfer. Maybe it was time to finally take him up on that offer to ship you off to DC.

But, of course, you couldn’t do it.

With a screeching U-turn, you headed back to town. Your destination wasn’t the hospital, however. Instead, you ended up at the Sheriff’s Department.

“Agent Y/L/N?”

On your way inside, a middle-aged man in a long, gray coat jumped up from a bench in front the building. He looked distraught, half his face hidden by a navy, voluminous scarf, but you still recognized him instantly.

“Mr. Hughes,” you said with a hint of surprise in your voice. He was the last victim’s husband, and you wondered what he was doing here. Had Jenny brought him in for more questioning?

“I heard you caught the killer. Is that true?”

Small towns, you scoffed and rolled your eyes internally.

“Mr. Hughes, I’m very sorry. I know you want answers, but please understand that I can’t share any more information with you at this point. The Sheriff’s deputies will update you as soon as we know more,” you gave the procedural answer and suddenly accelerated your pace, looking for the safety of the station in a hurry – and not only because it had gotten cold.

“Is it that DA?” he asked desperately as he followed you and cornered you again by the door.

So close…

“Mr. Hu–”

However, he didn’t let you finish this time and cut you off, “Because if it is, there’s something you should know.”

“You sure that’s her?” you asked for the third time as Mr. Hughes stared intensely at Diane, handcuffed to a metal table in Interrogation Room 1 this time.

Diane grinned like she had just won the lottery, even though no one was in the room with her. You had hauled her from her little jail cell just so Hughes could properly identify her. Although he recognized her in photos, you wanted to be sure. God knows Diane would rip that testimony apart in court, otherwise.

Hughes nodded vehemently. “Yes, I’m positive, Agent Y/L/N. How many times do I have to tell you?”

“I just had to make sure. I’m sorry. I know this is hard for you, Mr. Hughes,” you reiterated.

“Well, I’m pretty sure I’d recognize the first woman I slept with after my wife was murdered,” he snapped impatiently, but you couldn’t blame him. The man was really going through it at the moment.

“Of course. We believe you, Mr. Hughes. Thank you for coming in and letting us know,” Jenny said and took over, seeing the exhaustion on your face. “There’s some coffee in the lobby. Why don’t you help yourself while Deputy Poppernak fills you in on the next steps.”

With a heavy head, he nodded and dragged his weary feet out of the small room. “Alright. Thank you kindly, ladies.”

You exhaled a deep breath as soon as the door closed and ran a hand through your hair. You couldn’t catch a break, could you?

“Hughes is pretty shaken up,” Jenny noted pensively.

“Yeah, I mean, can you imagine finding out you unknowingly slept with your wife’s killer?” And suddenly, it dawned on you – the irony of Diane’s plan. “Shit,” you muttered under your breath.

Jenny raised a brow but gave you a comforting smile. “How are you holding up?”

“Not gonna lie. Been better,” you replied dryly.

“Wanna fill me in over coffee?”

You nodded with a smirk. “Only if you pour a lot of whiskey into my mug, too.”

Jenny grinned. “Deal.”

“I almost bolted today,” you told Jenny as the two of you sat at the big round table of the station’s break room. You clasped the warm mug even tighter in your cold hands. “Made it past the town sign, too.”

“Why did you come back?” Jenny took a sip from her own drink, hiding her knowing smile behind her cup.

“The job.”

Jenny snorted and cocked a disbelieving eyebrow. “Really?”

You smiled, your eyes focusing on the mug in your hands. “No.”

“You love both of ‘em?”

You nodded but didn’t meet her eyes. “In a way, yeah…”

“But it’s Beau,” Jenny stated like it was obvious.

“I-…” You let out a sigh. “I guess I’m scared to be cruel. It just seems so… unfair to him. Randy doesn’t deserve this. And even if… How are me and Beau supposed to just move on happily, knowing all of this? I’m afraid Diane might win this one. She actually found the goddamn breaking point. I don’t think our relationship can survive this.”

“Maybe not,” Jenny agreed quietly. She knew you had found yourself in an impossible situation. No matter where you looked for a solution, you only ever found dead ends. “Look, maybe you and Beau can’t get past this. But staying with Randy because you feel bad and don’t want to hurt his feelings is just going to hurt him more in the end. It’s crueler if you stay. You’re not doing him a favor.”

“Oh, I know. Trust me. I’ve been through this a thousand times over the last twenty-four hours. No one’s winning anything here,” you said and took a big sip from your alcoholic coffee. Then suddenly, your gut got that familiar twinge again. Your eyes widened as they found Jenny’s.

“What?” The blonde blinked at you. “I know that look. You found something.”

“We need to speak with the other victims’ husbands,” you informed Jenny, urgency swinging in your voice.

“You think she slept with the others as well?”

“What d’you think?”

Jenny sighed and blew the frustrated puff of air into her mug. She shook her head and muttered grimly, “Fucking Diane.”

“Let’s get back to work.”

Breathlessly, Beau stood in front of the hospital, hands on his squared-off hips. He looked left and right, but as far as he could tell you were long gone.

Hearing an exhaustive sigh behind him, he spun around and found his old partner fully clothed. Randy ripped off his hospital bracelet and let his lungs fill with a breath of fresh, cold mountain air. He shivered a bit in his thin denim jacket and t-shirt. Diane must’ve not left him with clothes appropriate for Montana’s dropping temperatures. Winter had rolled into the country – in more ways than one.

Beau lifted an eyebrow. “Did they discharge you?”

“Nope. Discharged myself,” Randy retorted and looked across the parking lot.

“Randy–”

“I’m fine,” he bit. “There’s nothing wrong with me, so can we please just go look for my wife?”

Wide-eyed, Beau stumped. “I’m sorry… we?!”

Spending any more time with Randy was definitely the last thing Beau needed.

“Yes, we. I don’t have a car. You have to drive,” Randy clarified, the anger in his voice still swinging punches at Beau’s face. Every word out of Randy’s mouth spelled the same message: You owe me. Beau could hardly argue with that. “Which one’s yours?”

Sourly, Beau pointed straight ahead. “The red Jeep.”

Randy’s brow furrowed. “That rusty old thing? Where the hell did you get that?”

“Mexico.”

“Sounds about right.”

“Hey, I know you’re angry with me, but don’t take it out on Pedro and hurt his feelings,” Beau said, hoping his lightheartedness would be contagious. Randy was immune, however, and didn’t break a smile. “Just stay here, go back inside, and let me look for her alone.”

“Oh, you would love that, wouldn’t you?”

“Actually, I would.”

“Forget it. I’m not staying here,” Randy huffed and opened the car door, heaving himself into the passenger seat.

Beau sighed deeply, tapping Pedro’s roof with his flat palm. “‘Course you’re not,” he muttered bitterly, rolling his eyes back.

“Congrats, Diane,” you said and slapped yet another folder down in front of her. A smirk played across the murderous prosecutor’s lips. She hoped you’d find the smoking gun eventually, and you hated the fact she always seemed to be miles ahead. “So far, I’ve spoken to seventeen husbands of your previous victims, and you… Wow.”

Honestly, you were speechless. As were all the husbands when you had the honor of telling them over the phone they might have screwed their wives’ killer. But you weren’t just looking for confirmation. Something had bugged you since Randy had magically appeared in a hospital bed.

Diane shrugged coolly – and proudly. “What can I say? I got around. Please give them my condolences.”

You scoffed a humorless chuckle and sat down across from her. “You know, something keeps gnawing on me. First of all, how the fuck did you know Randy was still alive?”

The cold-hearted lawyer smiled. “Can’t blame you. That’s a doozie.”

“And even if you did find out, how on earth did you get him out of the cartel’s claws? I mean, that alone would deserve some applause. Hate to say it, but I’m honestly impressed,” you admitted, even though your admiration was just a honey trap.

“Thank you, Agent. I appreciate your honesty. I know that must not have been easy for you to admit,” Diane replied and leaned forward on the table. “Truth is, getting him out was easy. The cartel wanted to get rid of him. He was just dead weight that attracted too much attention from law enforcement.”

“So you made a deal with them, and they just… gave him to you?” It sounded unbelievable, and you knew she was hiding something, only revealing parts of the truth to you.

“As I said, they wanted to get rid of him. In a way, you owe me. I saved him. They would’ve executed him a week later and put his head on a stick for you to find,” Diane argued, shrugging her shoulders.

It was hard to deny. In a weird way, she was right. She did save Randy, even if it was just for her personal gain. Blowing up your life or not, Randy was back – thanks to her.

“Fine,” you relented. “The second thing that keeps bugging me, though, is: How did you let Randy escape from the bunker? Was there a timer on the door, and it just opened? ‘Cause Randy said he only remembers someone stabbing him with a needle before he woke up by the side of the road. I looked at his tox screen, he still had enough in his system when he got to the hospital. It couldn’t have been more than a few hours. So, either you almost gave him a lethal dose and he got lucky, or…”

“Or what, Agent?”

You met her icy gray eyes. “You’re working with someone,” you stated determinedly. You didn’t need her to confirm it. You knew. Every bone in your body, every drop of blood – you knew.

A smile flickered alive in the corners of her mouth. Warm. Fond. “Well done. I knew you’d get there.”

Abruptly, you rose from you seat and stormed through the door, leaving Diane behind. You had to find your second killer.

“Good luck, Agent!”

“Beau.” Jenny rose from her desk with an arched eyebrow at the strange man following the sheriff inside the station. She witnessed a brief (and rather heated) exchange of words between the men before Beau walked her way with a furiously creased brow.

“You seen Y/N?” With a shake of his head that was supposed to release some of his exasperation, the sheriff took off his hat and ran a hand through his locks.

“You just missed her,” Jenny informed her exhausted boss.

“Dammit!”

“Rough day?”

“Yup, doesn’t seem to be gettin’ easier, either,” Beau replied, carrying frustration in his voice as he glanced back over his shoulder at his former partner.

“Is that–”

“Randy? Yeah,” Beau confirmed with an annoyed huff.

“Huh. Interesting…”

Beau scowled at the blonde. “What?”

“Nothing.” Jenny gave a shrug of her shoulders and tilted her head at Randy. “Just thought he’d be different. That’s all.”

Suspiciously, Beau’s eyes narrowed, darting from Randy to Jenny. “Are you checking him out, Hoyt?”

“What? No,” Jenny replied a little too defensively. “‘Sides, if I was, I’d be doing you a favor.”

Beau swayed his head from side to side, actually considering the option. “You’re not wrong. Can’t seem to get rid of him… And I realize that makes me sound like an asshole.”

“Yeah, it does,” Jenny replied, a teasing smile on her lips.

“Thanks, Hoyt,” Beau scoffed. “Any idea where Y/N went?”

“Not exactly. We’ve had an interesting visitor today. Remember Hughes?”

Beau nodded. “Husband of our last victim.”

“He came by the station after hearing we caught Diane,” Jenny explained. “He confessed to sleeping with her after his wife was killed.”

Beau’s brow furrowed, green eyes widening. “Wait, did he know that-…?”

Jenny shook her head. “No, he didn’t connect the dots till we had her in custody. But Y/N and I then checked the other–”

Beau squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his temples. “Don’t tell me she–”

“Uh-huh.”

“Unbelievable…” Beau let his shaking head hang, sighing.

“Y/N then had a chat with Diane. She confirmed it,” Jenny informed him further. “After that, she stormed out. Said she was following a lead.”

“You know which one?”

Jenny shook her head apologetically. “I wasn’t in the room. I was still calling husbands. But Y/N had a few more names left on her list from the Texas victims.”

Beau then pulled out his phone and tried you again, but only ever caught the receiving end of your voicemail, which wasn’t rare, considering the spotty service in town. “Still voicemail.”

“What’s that?” Jenny leaned closer, squinting her eyes at his screen. “You’ve got a message.”

“Huh. It’s from her. Ten minutes ago. Voicemail,” Beau said and frowned at his phone, his thumb wringing with the touchscreen.

He then held it to his ear and listened.

“Ugh, voicemail. Again. Stupid woods everywhere…” you huffed a sigh into your phone, your eyes concentrating on the foggy road ahead. “Beau, it’s me. I’ve found something. Driving to your place now. Meet me there,” you said, already rounding the corner to his road. “Diane’s not working alone. She has a partner. Probably someone submissive that she can manipulate easily to do her bidding…”

Parking the car in front of his trailer, you unfastened your seatbelt and hurried out.

“I checked the list of husbands. I think it’s our first victim in Texas. His name is Hal Turner. He is a quiet accountant. Kind of an odd duck when I spoke to him…” Looking through Beau’s planters, you searched for the second key. You knew he hid it here somewhere. “But he did serve some prison time a couple years ago. And while he was in prison, his wife was having an affair… with Diane’s husband, his goddamn defense attorney. And if your mind isn’t blown yet, just wait for the next part. Guess why Turner was in prison in the first place? See, he tried earning some extra cash, doing the books for a biker gang, which just so happens to be connected to our favorite cartel. Yeah… That’s probably how they got their hands on Randy.”

There was a noise. You had realized it too late, and your weapon was still in the car. One breath later, you felt the cool metal of a gun barrel pressing against the back of your skull.

“Uhm… anyways, put out an APB. I’m here now, so… just get here too, okay? I love you. Bye.”

You dropped your phone to the ground and raised your hands, taking a deep breath before you spoke. “Whoa, slow down there, cowboy. I left my gun in the car. I’m no threat to you. You don’t have to do this, Mr. Turner.”

“You’ve figured it all out. She said you were smart,” he said, and you could hear the uneasiness, the jitters, in his voice.

“Mr. Turner, I’m gonna turn around now, so we can talk better, okay?” you pleaded, ordering your body to stay calm.

“What’s there to talk about? I have to do this. I can’t disappoint her,” the man stated. And once you looked at him, you knew he wasn’t of sound mind anymore. Diane had done a number on the guy.

“No, you don’t. You heard. I already told my colleagues about you. They’re gonna look for you. It’s over, Mr. Turner,” you explained as gently as possible. “But if you come willingly to the station with me, I’ll make sure to get you a deal with the DA. Please… Don’t do this.”

For a moment, you thought he bought it. He hesitated as if he were actually considering the option to end it all right there. But then you recognized the pity in his eyes.

“I’m sorry. I can’t.”

“Yeah… That’s probably how they got their hands on Randy… Uhm… anyways, put out an APB. I’m here now, so… just get here too, okay? I love you. Bye.”

Half the station had gathered around the sheriff, including Randy, as soon as Beau put your message on speaker after the first few sentences. Beau only snapped his finger at Poppernak, who nodded eagerly and raced to the nearest computer, putting out an APB on Hal Turner.

Randy cleared his throat and excused himself outside before Beau realized what exactly had bothered his former partner about your message.

I love you.

Only Jenny remained standing next to him with a creased brow. He knew that look.

“What?” Beau prompted. “I know. Trust me. I wouldn’t have put it on speaker if I had known beforehand.”

“No, not that.” Jenny shook her head but then changed her mind. “Or maybe exactly that. Didn’t she sound weird to you towards the end?”

Beau shrugged. His mind might have turned off temporarily after hearing those three words. “What d’you mean?”

“At the start, she’s all excited because she solved the case, right? But then there’s this weird pause before her voice changes. She sounds… calm,” Jenny explained.

“You mean because she’s trying to stay calm,” Beau added.

“Because she’s seen something,” Jenny finished. “Someone. Hal Turner.”

Green eyes widened as his chest tightened. Beau thundered outside, passing Randy on a bench on his way to the car.

“Whoa, what’s going on? Where are you running off to?” Randy hurried straight after him and met him by the Jeep. “Are you going after Y/N?”

Internally, Beau sighed, but he knew they didn’t have time for a discussion.

“Get in! Y/N’s in trouble.”

July 2021

“Been a minute,” Beau said as you hopped into the driver’s seat of the SUV. He forced a smile, one he had hoped would conceal his nervousness appropriately. He even let you drive – just so he could get back into your good graces.

If that wasn’t a peace offering, he didn’t know what was.

“Uh-huh…”

Beau wanted to sigh but refrained from doing so. That would’ve probably just annoyed you. He was handing you an olive branch, and you were throwing it into the wood chipper. He supposed he had to live with that.

After the drunk debacle and a dire hangover that almost cost him his job, Beau knew he had to crawl back to Cody. He actually apologized, bootlicked and cowered, and then submissively asked to be partnered up with you again. And after all of that, the dick still had said no.

You went undercover shortly after, and Beau went back home, giving his failing marriage another shot. The old college try. Well, Carla didn’t appreciate any of it. Too little, too late, she’d said.

Now, both of you were back, and the only reason Beau was allowed to share a car with you again was because you had explicitly requested it. Beau had been surprised to hear that, frankly, but it gave him hope things could be repaired. Maybe that had been your idea of extending an olive branch.

“Thanks, you know,” Beau said and focused his gaze on his clasped hands in his lap. “I know you put in the request to be my partner again.”

“Kinda had to,” you scoffed and pushed the key into the ignition, maybe a little too forcefully for the occasion. “No one in the team wants to work with you anymore. They were practically begging me to take you back. You’re a real people person, aren’t you?”

Alright, maybe it wasn’t exactly a full branch.

Had he sulked? Been moody? Absentminded in recent weeks?

Yes, absolutely.

“Still, thanks…” Beau licked his lips. He wanted to make things right – but how? “Look, I’m really sorry about what happened. I am. I swear to you nothin’ like it will ever happen again, alright?”

For a mere second, you stopped every movement. His words sunk in. No, it was exactly what you wanted all along.

Right?

“Good.”

“Alright, then…” Beau exhaled a sigh. He didn’t know what he’d expected to hear, but that answer surely left more to desire. Not to mention, the thousands of questions that gnawed on him like nasty termites.

You started the car and reversed out of the spot, thinking and hoping this conversation was over – once and for all. Bury the goddamn hatchet six-feet-under. But Beau seemed to have a different idea of how you two would spend your afternoon:

“If that’s what you want…”

He said it so passive-aggressively it bordered on childish. What the hell was he aiming for? Had he gone mad?

“It’s what I want.”

You’d be damned if you got roped into this one. Beau Arlen would not drag you down into the pits of hell with him. But hesitation had come before your answer, and Beau had noticed.

“You sure?”

For fuck’s sake!

Mind, you still had to navigate out of that incredibly tight parking spot with that fucking gigantic car (and not looking like a damn fool when doing so) while that idiot next you, your partner, kept yapping on. And mind, if you did indeed mess up, he’d surely (and not helpfully) inform you why he never let you drive.

“I’m sure.”

Beau nodded. Not in acceptance – he was thinking. “Just answer me one question…”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!”

Bringing the SUV to a screeching halt, you both jolted forward into your seatbelts. Another driver leaving the parking lot honked behind you for blocking their way.

“Fuck off!” you yelled, leaning halfway out the rolled down window.

“You want me to dri–”

“Nope.”

“Alright, then.”

That asshole…

Then silence fell. You didn’t move, though, and Beau didn’t pressure you to. The car kept running till you turned it off and sunk back into your seat.

“Why are you so mad at me?”

“I’m not mad.”

“I don’t think the punishment fits the crime.”

“Oh, I think it does.”

Beau rubbed his lips with his thumb and finger and stared out the window. Again, he was thinking. He might as well have taken up chess as a leisure activity.

Was he weak if he wanted to fight?

“Look, if you’re only this mad ‘cause you think you’d just be my rebound, then you should know that never would’ve been the case, alright?”

Beau looked at you, and you met his eyes. You were scared to admit it, even to yourself, but your feelings were harder to ignore when you stared at him.

“I wouldn’t have risked our friendship for nothin’,” he muttered under his breath.

“Don’t.” You clutched the steering wheel in your grasp a little tighter.

“So, what? We just never talk about it?”

Beau knew in that moment that, whatever he felt, it wasn’t just a simple crush that would dissipate over time. It would stay. How was he supposed ignore an elephant this big?

“That’s exactly what we’re supposed to do,” you stated. How could you explain it in a way he’d understand? “Beau, it can’t-…It can’t be you… It just can’t be. You with me on this one?”

“I’m with you.” His heart drowned in disappointment, but he gave you a promise nonetheless, telling you he’d let it rest for good. “Guess I got my answer…”

“Hood’s still warm,” Beau said, removing his palm from your car. It had taken him twelve minutes to race here, knowing he’d never be fast enough to stop it. Your vehicle was here, but you weren’t. “Her gun’s still here, too.”

“Found her phone. Door’s still locked. She never went inside,” Randy said, standing in front of the trailer. “No signs of blood, though.”

“He probably took her somewhere else,” Beau mused, his gut telling him the exact place.

“One of those bunkers?”

“Would be my guess, yeah,” Beau confirmed and rubbed his beard. Everything inside him tried to keep calm, tried not to panic, even though his head was booming and his heart was exploding with worry.

“Why would she leave her phone here? Maybe there’s something on here,” Randy said and proceeded to type in your passcode. Only it wasn’t yours anymore. “She changed it,” he realized with a swallow and found Beau’s eyes. “Do you-, uhm…”

“Yeah,” was all Beau said and proceeded to type in the correct code. Your phone unlocked, but that accomplishment surely came with a price, judging by Randy’s sulking expression. “Last call was to me. Says here her storage is full, but the video was still saved.”

“What video?”

As the men started the clip, they caught your entire conversation with Hal Turner – with his voice and face on tape. Turner held you at gun point before slowly leading you to a car and out of frame. The noise of a starting engine could be heard before it all falls silent and dark.

“Why would she record this? If she had taken it with her, we could’ve tracked it,” Randy said with a frown.

But Beau shook his head. “Turner would’ve probably dumped her phone somewhere before they ever even reached their destination. She didn’t think she’d make it out alive,” he realized bitterly. His heart grew heavier with every passing second. “She recorded it as evidence… in case he killed her.”

As soon as he uttered those words, everything fell into place. Everything made sense. And Beau wanted to break down right then and there.

If something happened to you…

Grabbing his phone, Beau called Jenny’s number. “Hoyt! Turner took her. They can’t be far. Lock everything down, you understand me? Get everybody out of the station and on the streets. Have forensics come by my trailer… Yeah, alright. I’ll meet you here.”

He ended the call with a strenuous exhale. Although he wanted to, he knew there wasn’t more he could do. Driving down roads, running aimlessly through the woods… He knew there was no way he could ever find you.

Unless he had help.

“We need to find her,” Randy stated the obvious.

“You think?!”

Beau wasn’t mad at Randy. He was angry with himself. If he hadn’t kicked you out this morning, you would’ve been by his side. You would’ve spent the day together. You would’ve come home together. He would’ve been here when you needed him.

“Stop yelling at me! You know I like to think out loud!”

Beau ground his jaw and rubbed his aching temples. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Look, I’m just worried.”

“And you think I ain’t?!”

“Randy–” Beau sighed loudly and stretched out the tension in his shoulders. “Let’s not turn this into some weird competition, alright? We’re both worried. End of story.”

Randy scoffed and rolled his eyes, defiantly crossing his arms over his jacket. “Whatever, man.”

“Look, if we’re gonna work this thing together, I think we need some ground rules. You with me on this one, buddy?”

“I ain’t your buddy.” Randy exhaled a long breath and pondered for a moment with a sour expression on his face. Eventually, he nodded his agreement. “But I’m with you. What did you have in mind?”

Bobbing his head, he thought for a second and scratched his jaw. “I don’t think we should talk about her.”

“She’s the one who’s missing. We’re trying to find her. I think we need to talk about her a little,” Randy argued, mostly out of spite.

But Beau was a patient man – sometimes. Another sigh passed his lips. “You know what I mean.”

“Oh, you mean I’m not supposed to make you uncomfortable by asking questions like, ‘Is Y/N’s passcode your guys’ anniversary date because she used to have our wedding anniversary as her code.’ Those kinda questions?” Randy asked mockingly.

“Uh-huh… That would be a stellar example of what I meant,” Beau said with a pressed smile. He knew this wouldn’t be easy by a long shot, but he was willing to try and make it work. “Second – no sulking.”

“I don’t sulk.”

“Yes, you do. I don’t wanna worry about you anytime my relationship with Y/N even remotely comes up. It happened. Get over it.”

“Get over it?!” Randy gasped. Granted, Beau knew he could’ve chosen better words. “You know, those rules start to sound a lot like just a list of things that are supposed to make you less uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, well…” Beau scratched the back of his neck. “You can add somethin’.”

A peace offering.

Randy nodded, accepting said offer. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Fine. Third rule: You’re not allowed to pretend you’re the only one who cares about her. She’s my wife. I get to decide how we proceed.”

Beau’s jaw tightened. “Fine,” he gritted.

“Which brings me to my fourth rule: You’re not the boss of me. You ain’t my sheriff.” Randy smirked, provoking in nature. Beau could tell he was proud of that rule.

Beau chuckled humorlessly. “You know, Randy, technically, you’re not a cop anymore. You’re a civilian. In my county. So yeah, I am your sheriff.”

Randy only grinned in return. “Well, good thing you can deputize me.”

Beau let another sigh pass between his lips. “Fine,” he agreed to Randy’s terms. “So, that’s it? Four rules? We’re not talking about our relationship with her, I’m not gonna boss you around, and we’re good?”

“We’re good.” Randy gave him a nod. “What are we allowed to talk about, though?”

Beau shrugged. “The case? Small talk, maybe?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know.” Another shrug. “Football?”

Randy shook his head. “Haven’t seen a single game in three years.”

“Right.” Beau hadn’t thought of that. “Politics?”

Another head shake. “Haven’t seen the news either.”

“Uh-huh…” Then, an idea hit Beau. “You know what? That might not actually be the worst. Why don’t you ask me some stuff and I fill you in on what happened over the last few years, huh? Texans, Cowboys, Musk… Anything you wanna know, I’m an open book. Just ask away, man. Anything.”

Randy contemplated the suggestion for a beat. Then a smile rose on his lips and spread to his ears. Beau didn’t like it one bit.

“Alright… How’s Carla doing?”

Chapter 12: Through

Welp, let's end it here on a funny note and forget about all the drama of being kidnapped 😂

Posting will resume in the new year with the final two chapters, so stay tuned and happy holidays to you guys! ❤️🎄🥳🥂

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[synamartia]

GUYS I SWEAR I'M TRYING TO FINISH SMUTMUS. I just can't stop myself from adding new things each time I try to enter the final editing stage 😭 I keep telling myself to save some bits for future stories, but fuck! It's getting too good for me to stop~ 😉 and then I get on here and get inspired to add something else, which throws me back a couple steps cause I'm trying to make sure it flows properly. SOMEONE TAKE AWAY MY PHONE- *gets smacked down*

Btdubs I've used the word "tongue" WAY too many times so if anyone could help me with synonyms or alternative ways to describe the tongue that'd be great 🥲

Be prepared though, once it's done and posted, I'mma take some time to respond to messages/comments/reblogs, catch up on some reading *looks at Hazel, Mink, & Danny* and write ESSAYS on every little detail! Yall might wanna put me on mute when that happens 🤣

I'll come back and add proper CW tags to all the teasers I release later, but for now (and just as a general rule of thumb with anything I post): MDNI! And jsyk, it WILL BE WORTH IT. I've doubled my word count from the original nine parts, and it's still growing. So. Y'know.

GET 👏 READY 👏 FOR 👏 10K+ 👏 WORDS 👏 OF 👏 ABSOLUTE 👏 FILTH 👏👏👏👏

Quickly, you turned your head and pushed yourself up. “No! No, I can…” you paused for a moment to stifle a yawn. The incident that led to all of this occurred near the end of your work day, so you were already fairly tired when this started. The unexpectedly hard orgasm wasn't helping any, but the promise of even more kept you going. Besides, you couldn't be the only one having fun here. That wouldn't be fair. “... I can keep going. I wanna keep going,” you insisted, lowering your leg as you pushed yourself up straight, turning to face him fully now. “For you.” You added, staring up at him with an amorous look that made his breath hitch in his throat for a moment. Cautiously, you raised your hands to gently cradle his face, standing on your tip toes so you could place a soft peck on his smiling lips.

Lowering yourself to stand proper now, you began to trace your hands down his neck and chest, not missing the way his muscles still tensed at your touch. It was going to take some time, you realized, to get him to a point where he welcomes your touch rather than shies away from it. You hoped that he would give you that time; outside of this incident that you so clumsily caused, of course. When your hands reached the waistband of his pants, you looked up at him and waited for his permission to continue - something small and near insignificant but nevertheless something he still appreciated. He would have to reward you for that later. Nodding his head, Alastor watched you as you slowly pushed both his trousers and briefs down past his hips, his aching cock springing from its prison and slapping lightly against his lower abdomen. He looked away for a moment, unable to hide his growing discomfort with being so bare in front of another person. Gently, you pressed on his jaw with your left hand to bring his narrowed eyes back to your face. “Hey,” you called. “You can trust me, Alastor,” you assured him, knowing full well that was only part of the problem. Mouth twitching, Alastor stared at you as you leaned in to place tender kisses to his chest, your eyes never once leaving his face as you lowered yourself to your knees before him. “I promise,” you spoke softly, hands tracing the defined muscles of his abs and gliding along the dips of his pelvic v. Bringing one hand down to rest on his thigh, your other gently wrapped around the base of his cock. Humming softly as you smiled up at him, you rubbed your cheek against his length, then grazed your lips over his leaking tip. “I just want to make you feel good,” you continued to assure him, not missing the shaky sigh he gave in response to your touches. Experimentally, you let the tip of your tongue dart past your lips and against his crying slit, his entire body tensing as one of his hands moved to tangle within your tresses while you continued to deliver kitten licks to his sensitive tip. You stared up at Alastor with such innocence in your big doe eyes; he had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from forcing his cock as far down your throat as it could go. “Is that okay?” You asked after a couple more licks to his slit. “Will you let me make you feel good, Alastor?” You asked him so sweetly, voice dripping with honey as his name rolled off your devilish tongue. You really knew how to push his buttons. With a drawn out moan vibrating through his chest, you barely had time to fully open your mouth as he pushed his hips forward and guided your head down until your nose brushed against the carmine strands at his base, his head tilting back at the long anticipated sensation finally washing over him as he breathed out a singular,  “Yes!”

[siconetribal]

Beyond the Bookshelves (2)

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: When you're forced to work in pairs/groups when you don't want to work in pairs/groups, work life, slice of life

Summary: You're a Resource Management Specialist at S.H.I.E.L.D. normally referred to as “The Librarian”. You've been assigned the nightmarish task of digitizing all the physical resources currently owned by the agency, with a few new computers and one extra helper.

A/N: Thank you to all the readers who have loved this story so much already, I did not expect so man tag requests! I'll do my best to live up to your expectations in this story that is pretty much writing itself. If I missed anyone who asked to be tagged, please let me know!

Please comment/like/reblog. If you'd like to be tagged moving forward, please let me know!

The lovely banners used in this fic are from @cafekitsune.

The walk back to the library was longer than usual, but that was because you were now burdened with a task that was nearly impossible to complete with what was at your disposal. Not only was there so little provided, the personnel allotted was the complete opposite of what was necessary. It would have been laughable had it not been so pathetic. You, someone who normally worked with a set number of others, (most of which were virtual) was now forced into a group with two other members whom you have never even properly spoken to.

Loki probably hates me, he has to hate me. The man-person-god-prince-whatever-he-is has never even uttered a word to me until today! You thought back to the very first time you ever met the silent and brooding raven haired Asgardian.

It started off just like any other day, quiet and peaceful. It was just you, the books, and the sun. Though it was a state-of-the-art facility, the library was given a more soothing design with wooden shelving and tables, soft carpeting, comfortable seating of chairs and sofas, table lamps, and desks for laptops and computers to promote productivity and security. There were a few high-tech things, such as the book trolley being robotic and the security measures equal to the rest of the complex; but overall it evoked a sense of tradition.

You were leading the robot trolley filled with books through the shelves, returning items to their proper place, when you heard the chime at the door. Peeking your head out of the aisle, you were awestruck by the handsome young man whom you have never seen before, slowly walking in and looking around in what you could only describe as pure wonder. There was a sparkle of life in those blue eyes and the faintest of smiles tugging at the corners of his lips. Setting the book in hand back on the trolley, you stepped out and gave a big smile.

“Hello, my name is Y/N. I’m the librarian. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You cheerily greeted him, but only received silence in return as he walked further into the room without even a passing glance. There’s no way he didn’t hear me, right? I didn’t shout, but I wasn’t quiet either. He seems to be really excited about the library, so maybe he was too busy looking around? She opened her mouth to let him know she was here to assist if he needed anything, but he was nowhere to be seen. “I guess he really was just that eager.” You muttered to yourself as you finished your task and made your way to the main desk.

Who is he, anyway? He looks oddly familiar, but I just can’t put my finger on it. You dug through your memories, trying to find a name to the face. When it was clear that it was not something that would come to you right away, he let it be for now and tried your best to see if the newcomer was still here. Had it not been for the occasional sightings, you would have sworn your mind was playing tricks on you. When he finally settled on a few books, you waited for him to come to the desk to check out.

“Excuse me, sir!” You shouted after him as he went straight towards the door. His nose was already buried in one book, and two more were under his arm. It was too late. The alarm at the door began ringing, and a female computer voice came through the speakers.

“Please return the books to the library or check them out at the main desk. I repeat, please return the books to the library or check them out at the main desk.” You watched his head snap up and look around for the source of the disembodied voice when holographic floating arrows directed his attention towards you. You gave a slight wave and put on your best welcoming smile once more. He looked down at the books he held briefly before making his way over to the desk.

“I guess you didn’t hear me, I was trying to get your attention before you left. It’s fine, people make that mistake most of them the time when they're busy. May I please see the books?” He held out your hands, but he deposited the stack on to the desk and pushed it towards you. Ok, you pulled them closer. “Your ID as well, please.” You held out your hand once more and the man simply stared at you, bewildered, with scrunched eyebrows and a growing frown. Lifting your lanyard up, you pointed to your pass holder, which held your ID. “Your ID card, the one that gives you access to the various parts of this facility.” The continued silence was deafening as one of his hands slipped into one of his pockets and he pulled out his ID and placed it on the table. “Uh, thank you,” you mumble as you pick up the piece of plastic and tapped it against a panel to the right of your monitor. Loki? You stared at the name for a moment, the gears slowly turning in your head as you scanned the books one by one before handing them and his ID back to him. “You have two weeks to return or extend your borrow time. Please do not damage them or return them late, you will incur some fees if so. Thank you, I hope you enjoy them. If you need any,” you began to strike up conversation once more, but he took the books and left without a word, leaving you to awkwardly watch.

“Talk about intimidating! I had no idea they brought him here!” You let out a heavy sigh and plopped back into your chair. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize him without those big gold horns! Did he really just ignore me, though? Maybe he’s shy? I don’t recall ever hearing him speak, though,” you muttered to yourself, swinging left to right. “He must’ve proven that he’s not dangerous if he’s allowed to be part of the Avenger’s team.” You shrugged and let the topic slide for now. You would give him time to grow accustomed to you…or so you thought.

The encounters that followed were nearly identical to the first. He would come in and completely ignore you, read for hours, check out books, and leave. Not a word came from his lips, and he only ever looked at you with you were not sure whether it was disdain or disgust. At some point, you completely gave up on speaking to him and simply took note of the books he liked. When he would go searching for something of interest, you would set a book that you believed he would enjoy beside the sofa he usually sat. It was clear she chose well, since he would always read and check it out. With all this in mind, you had come to the conclusion he cannot speak for some reason, and you were a rude stranger constantly chattering on to him. Not wanting to spoil his time in the library, you quickly adapted and remained silent in return. 

You dryly laughed at the memories that dropped on you like bricks. You were clearly thinking too highly of yourself, since today you had heard him speak quite clearly. Why would someone remain quiet for so long? After all attempts made to strike up conversation? There was only one valid solution: he hated you. The reason, you were not sure, but it was the only thing that made sense, and that meant you only had one Asgardian to rely on for assistance in your assignment.

Thor can only do so much since he is a main team member and one that is sent out on multiple missions globally. You pinched the bridge of your nose. Even if they forced Loki to assist, he’ll also be sent on various missions as well. I’ll have to wait for them to return every single time because those take priority over what I need to do. Then there’s training for the missions, training to keep working well as a team, meeting, and the press! The work is never going to get done! You wanted to rip your hair out from frustration as you roughly tousled it about and let out a loud groan of frustration once inside your sanctuary, the library. “And this is all if they say yes to helping me out. I doubt Fury is going to demand it, and Agent Hill isn’t going to go out of her way to persuade them. Just forget it, Y/N, fix the report and file it. Then just go on with your day just like you always do.”

“Thor, Loki, thank you for taking the time to meet with me.” Agent Hill greeted the brothers that came into her office.

“Of course we would come. It is not often that you call for anyone other than Stark or Rogers.” Thor gave an amicable smile, while Loki simply took a seat in one of the chairs in front of her desk. “What is it that you wish to discuss with us?” Thor took the seat beside his brother.

“I won’t take much of your time, it is a new assignment that only the two of you can assist us with.” She took her seat once more and faced the two of them. “Director Fury has given a task to our Resources Management department, the lead of which works here at HQ with us. She is the Librarian. I’m sure you have seen her most of all.” She looked towards the younger prince.

Loki kept a passive outwardly expression while his mind quickly tried to pull out the information of this librarian. He was no stranger to meeting a multitude of people, but he was not foolish enough to assume he would be able to memorize everyone’s name and face. He was a prince of Asgard, the only people he needed to know of in detail ere dignitaries and other royals. This librarian was hardly someone he would have considered amongst the two categories.

“So what if I have?” He coolly questioned, unsure of what the agent was trying to get at with all of this. Is this the reason she requested an audience with us the week before? What task could they have possibly given such a department that requires our assistance? I am not some scribe! He wanted to snap at Hill, but he held his tongue. Though he was an Avenger now, he was still not fully trusted by anyone. He knew even Thor had his reservations, but they knew how the Mind Stone worked. They knew he was not lying, but they were clear in stating they did not know him and this chance was only given because of his brother, Thor.

“Well, it will make things easier for us. She needs assistance in translating all of our texts into English. The department needs to create digital copies of all our books and paper resources so that we can access them anywhere and any time. We do not have the means to simply assign large groups to this task, because it would lead to suffering in on ground missions and recon. The both of you have the ability of AllSpeak which can translate anything you say to English. When you are available, please assist the Librarian in translating the various texts to help speed up the process.”

“This is a side request?” Thor asked, wanting to clarify the priority of this.

“Yes, we do not wish for this to hinder any missions you are needed for. We are requesting you head to the library when you have the time to speak with her and set up a tentative schedule so that she can report back to Director Fury by the end of this month. By that time, she will have the necessary equipment as well. If he approves, then we can move forward in starting this task.”

“You want us to dictate books to her? So she can type it up? Do you not have programs that can instantly translate for you?” Loki frowned, crossing his arms in disapproval at this waste of time.

“Though there are plenty of translation software programs out there, none of them are a hundred percent accurate. They may translate directly word for word, which could destroy the concept of the passages. It may attempt to try to understand the concept, but get it completely wrong. Both of you will be able to read the text and understand the context of it, which will help her type a more accurate translation.” Thor loudly hummed as he considered the task. It was not something he was rather fond of, however he wanted to be of assistance if this would help the organization.

“I am to deployed on a mission with Rogers and Stark in a couple of days. I am not certain how long we will be away. Is it possible to extend the time of meeting with the Librarian?” 

“I am to head out with the spider and bird tomorrow evening and return in four days.” Loki added.

“Very well, I will have her look into your schedules and reach out to the both of you.  If it cannot be done together, I will have her meet with you separately. Your missions will always be a priority, and she is well aware of that. Thank you for your assistance, I’ll inform her of this development.” Agent Hill stood from her seat and the two brothers followed, stepping out of her office and making their way towards the common room.

“Have you actually met this Librarian, brother?” Thor was the one to break the silence.

“I have not the faintest clue on whom they are referring to. No one speaks to me in this sterile place, how am I supposed to meet anyone?” He scoffed. Who would want to talk to a monster such as me? “It doesn’t matter, we will meet this woman at some point and better understand this waste of time that we are being dragged into. If you’ll excuse me, I have a debriefing to sit through.” He turned down the hall on their left, leaving Thor with the harsh words of his reality.

Tags: @vbecker10 @huntress-artemiss @softestqueeen @thegodofnotknowing @princess-ofthe-pages @firedrakegirl @rcailleachcola @cabingrlandrandomcrap @lotrefcp @lwtannie @kats72 @kneelingformyloki

[bellaxgiornata]

October Update Information

Tuna-Tober starts next week and I figured I'd give a bit of information about what to expect from me during this next month. It's fitting this writing challenge happens during my birthday month and after reaching over three thousand of y'all lovely people following me! I have absolutely no idea how we got here and I want to celebrate, but I am far too busy to do a follower event specifically. BUT I'll be dropping quite a few fics throughout the month of October for Tuna-Tober so we can pretend it's serving multiple celebration purposes! It's like my birthday gifts to all of you!

I'll be giving a bit of important information below the cut, but you can keep up with my updates for this event in my Tuna-Tober Masterlist.

I'm going to try to schedule posts for the days I have a fic to drop on tumblr (which I've never done and hope it works) in order to update on the correct dates. Though for those of my AO3 readers, you'll either have to read the fics here or wait because I will most likely not be able to get those posted on the correct days. I'm far too busy to actually sit down and update almost daily, unfortunately (and I don't think AO3 let's you schedule posts).

I will not be updating any of my series' during the month of October. I'll be posting far too much already (currently seven pieces completed but I'm aiming to get a couple more written/finished that you see on the masterlist and some you don't) But I should hopefully resume those stories in November.

I will try to use the character one shot tag lists for each of my Tuna-Tober updates, but I will not be adding to it during the time since I'll be scheduling posts ahead of time. I'm hoping tumblr will properly tag, but if not, the days I have fics going up will be listed in the event masterlist. You can always go there to see what updates are out and when more are coming.

I love all feedback and will absolutely try my best to respond to everyone, but I will probably be slow since I'm posting more fics in a month than I've probably posted...like ever. But I absolutely read every comment and reblog when I see them and I appreciate each one ❤

With that, my first fic should drop on October 1st! 🙃

[mammalsofaction]

16. Lazily (because I thought it said lizardly for a moment)

From the prompt list here

Perryshmirtz kissing....lazily

Bring Me A Dream

Rating: G

Relationship: Heinz Doofenshmirtz/Perry the Platypus

Add tags: Established relationship, domesticity, mute Perry, human Perry, Vanessa (mentioned), old men being gross and in love

A/N: Works best if you imagine Perry's just finished working an intense offshore mission and just chillaxing at Heinz's place.

---

"-Could've sworn I left it by the fireplace, no don't turn the lights on, sweetie, Perry's on the couch and he's had a long day."

"Oh, sure. Hey, Perry."

Perry grunts in acknowledgement.

"Now where is-is it this one, pumpkin?"

"Th-dad, no, mom bought me this new one last week, it's got orange decals and I snapped the holster off."

"What does an MP3 player need a holster for? Doesn't it play music?"

"It's not actually-I meant the little clip in the back I use to pin it to my belt when I'm out, I snapped it off at school last Tuesday which is why I can't pin in it on me-,"

"Which explains why you lost it, ok, I think I get the picture. Have you tried your room?"

"Yes, dad, that's the first place I checked. Are you sure we can't boot Norm up to let him scan this place?"

"I told you, pumpkin, he's been on that Minecraft server behind my back and skipping on enough of his charging time that he's getting cranky, so he's on time out. Also he's way too loud, he's going to wake Perry up. Have you checked the balcony by my lab? You like pacing there."

"I wasn't up there last week!"

Perry growls in warning, eyes kept shut. The voices shush themselves apologetically.

"I wasn't up there last week." Vanessa repeats herself, much more quietly.

"Well, you can try it anyway if we don't find it in here. Check my vinyl rack, I might have put it away and forgot about it."

As Vanessa patters further away, a more familiar presence looms over Perry's prone, half asleep figure. He does not acknowledge it, hoping it will go away.

Heinz sighs, both fond and exasperated in equal measure. "Alright, get up."

Perry doesn't move.

"This is going to go by a lot quicker if you co-operate. I need to search the cushions. "

Perry only shuts his eyes tighter, and moves his hat so that it fully covers his face, keeping out even the faint orange light of the fire.

Heinz sighs again, and soon enough Perry feels his tucking his hands between Perry's back and the cushions, trying to wedge his hands in the crannies despite the sluggish obstacle above them.

It tickles a little, and Perry wiggles.

Heinz huffs. "Oh for Gott's sake, will you-,"

Quick as flash, Perry wraps his arm around Heinz's unsuspecting figure and tugs him fully down. Heinz yelps, tucking his arms in as Perry twists them around, pinning the scientist down against the back of the sofa, but before he could start yelling, Perry began to pepper raspberries all across Heinz's scrunched up face. The scientist began to laugh.

"I found it! It was on the key plate next to the-oh gross. Dad...,"

Perry releases his captive hold on his lover, and Heinz stumbles to the floor, disheveled and winded with laughter. "Phew, sorry, Pumpkin, just got distracted."

"Perry, I thought you were supposed to be sleeping."

I am. The agent answers innocently, and to drive the message home he leans his head back into the cushion of the armrest and snores theatrically. Vanessa throws a pillow at him.

"Come on, sweetie, I'll spare your mother the trouble and drive you home. Perry'll hold down the fort."

Perry's shut his eyes again, properly settling back down, though he briefly crosses his heart.

"Ugh, you guys are so gross. I'm gonna wait in the car."

Perry hears her footsteps walking away, followed by a slamming door, before he allows his previously suppressed grin overtake his face. Heinz huffs again, clearly bemused.

"She used to think you were so cool."

Perry raises his eyebrows, then signs with some measure of offense. I am cool.

Heinz cackled. "Oh, sure. She doesn't think it anymore."

Perry hums, already falling back asleep. His signs are sluggish as he points out, You think I'm cool.

Heinz makes some sort of incredibly affectionate noise. "You are cool."

The edge of Perry's smile quirks up, a smug indication of see? As he feels Heinz leaning down however, it melts into besotted curl, reciprocating the sweet press of lips like a hot cup of cocoa on a cold December afternoon.

"Get some sleep." Heinz says, right against his lips. "I'll be right back."

Perry trusts that he will be. He's fast asleep even before Heinz locks the door behind him.

[billysjoel]

Hello, I want to ask you a stupid question? I want to know if I can ask tutorial on how to make multiple gifs in one? Here example: periodedits/tumblr/com/post/673464243167920128/15k-celebration-make-us-choose

hi there! that's not a stupid question at all (and even if it were, i'd still be happy to help) 💙 below the cut, i'll walk you through how to make something like you linked, with multiple shots in one gif:

We're putting two (or more) shots or scenes together in sequence into one gif, so that's how we'll start. I'm assuming a basic understanding on how to make gifs (if not, check the beginner tutorials tag on @gifmakerresource, the resource blog I run), so we begin by making each gif separately.

When putting multiple gifs together like this, it's important to be mindful of the number of frames you'll end up with. I tend to think it looks best if each scene is the same amount of frames, probably somewhere between 25-40 per gif, though it depends on the dimensions you're using as well. Don't sweat if they're not identical, but the closer they are, the better it'll look -- as opposed to one gif only being 10 frames and the other being 40.

So, create each gif separately. You may choose to sharpen and then color (which I believe is the more popular way, but you can always do it vice versa as well. You also might want to color once both gifs are together, but when I do something like this, I prefer to have everything completely finished before I put them both together. Here are my two sharpened and colored gifs:

Each gif needs to be the same dimensions as well. These are 540px x 500 px.

Assuming your gifs are complete, I find it easiest to convert them both to a smart object. To do this, highlight all the layers in your layers panel (shown below) and right click on one of them and select "convert to smart object." For this to work, you do already need to be using timeline animation, not frame animation. You can learn more about that in the beginner tutorials I linked above.

Once both gifs are smart objects, they'll be comprised of only one layer each, thus making them easier to work with and transfer. Now we want to bring gif #2 onto gif #1's canvas. As long as you're working with smart objects, it's as simple as copy (ctrl+c) and pasting (ctrl+p). Copy gif #2, click on gif #1's tab and then paste. This should also properly align the layers. If it doesn't for some reason, you can either use the move tool (v) or the transform tool (ctrl+t) and click and drag until they're aligned properly. This is what you should see now:

Gif #2 is currently on top of gif #1 in both the timeline and layers panel. If we were to save this gif, they're not going to play sequentially, but rather at the same time and only the top layer will be visible. To make one play after the other, we're going to drag gif #2 AFTER gif #1 in the timeline like so:

We're just clicking and dragging on that top layer and bringing it down to the same line as gif #1 and after it. What I'm doing at the end gets a little cut off, so this is what I'm showing in order to make the timeline smaller so we can see the whole gif. I don't like having to scroll to see it all, but this is just personal preference.

Dragging that slider to the left makes the timeline smaller and dragging it to the right makes it larger, which is great when you're working with detailed stuff like keyframes.

And that's literally all there is to it! You can now save your gif! Here are my save settings that I use for literally every single gif I make:

The size limit for uploading a gif to tumblr is 10mb, so at a total of 80 frames (40 each), my gif is too large. In this case, I'm okay with deleting some layers from each, but a tool I use a lot if I don't want to lose frames is ezgif's optimizer. when i tell you this website is a literal lifesaver! you select your gif, wait for it to upload, and then i always choose the first option, lossy gif. You may have to play around with the compression level to get the desired size and quality, though. At compression level 100, my gif is only 5.8mb, but it's pretty noisy. I don't always mind noise (in fact, I add it to my gifs fairly often), but in this case, we have a lot of wiggle room. I played around a bit and found that at compression level 35, my gif still looks nice and comes in at 9.4mb. Right-click and save your gif from here and then upload it to tumblr just like normal!

First gif is using ezgif compression and second is the original gif, just with frames deleted. I ended up having to take off 14 frames in total, 7 from each gif, to come in at 9.5mb. You can decide which method you think looks better!

In this case, I like the 2nd one better as it's less noisy, but it all comes down to personal preference! From here, you can learn cool stuff like transition effects!

I hope this was helpful, but if you have any additional questions, feel free to ask!

[tracingpatternswrites]

Wednesday WIP

Thanks for the tag @heartofspells, my darling 😘 Since it's past midnight, I guess this is officially a Wednesday WIP.

I also gently nudge @soloorganaas in the hope of another RBWWB snippet because I am obsessed as we all know. Also poking @theresthesnitch and @puuvillaa if you feel inspired and have something to share.

I'm behind on Mafs but I promise you all that the next chapter is very, very close to being finished and I can't wait to share it with you. I'll share this little snippet while you all wait so patiently.

(If you haven't read it yet, this is a good time to catch up here)

There was something about stepping out of the train station in Brighton that immediately made Remus feel at home. The air was somehow higher there, the sound of seagulls constantly present in the distance. Even though the sea was a bit of a walk away from the station, Remus imagined he could still sense it underneath the usual smell of cigarette smoke, exhaust and chips from the chip shop. They had been granted a couple of hours on their own before Matt was due to join them in order to properly document their last night together before they were due to go their separate ways. Remus was grateful for it, and he was relieved that they had agreed that putting cameras into his flat for this one day was too much work. Sure, it was awkward to have Matt trail behind them at all times, especially when they were out and about, but by now they were both so used to it that they barely thought about him. He paused by the side of the road as he took a deep breath, and he felt Sirius stepping up behind him. “I haven’t been in Brighton for years,” Sirius said as Remus turned to look at him. Sirius looked good, as always, dark sunglasses obscuring his eyes and shielding them from the bright sun that was beating down on them. There were a lot of people in motion around them, they clearly weren’t the only ones deciding to spend the day by the beach. Remus tightened his grip on his wheely bag, but before he could start moving he felt Sirius’ hand cover his. His husband gently pried his fingers off the handle to replace them with his own. “Let me take that.” “I can drag my own bag,” said Remus, but when Sirius grinned at him he couldn’t help but to smile back at him. “I know,” Sirius said easily as he started walking. “But I want to.” Remus didn’t argue, simply shook his head a little as he followed Sirius. They didn’t talk much as they walked, there wasn’t much point as they squeezed past students and couples and families who all seemed to be moving as one towards the lure of the water. Remus tried to make sense of what he was feeling. They had had a good few days since Sirius had spoken to Minerva and their conversations flowed easier. They hadn’t made any decisions yet, but at least they had started speaking about the things that mattered. Remus still couldn’t shake the feeling that they were running out of time though. They had two more days before they were going to meet with the experts to decide whether or not they wanted to stay married. They would spend the day together but tomorrow Sirius would go back to his house in London and Remus would stay here. Two more nights before their entire future was decided, and this time it would be different. Remus would know what he was walking into. It wouldn’t be the complete shock of marrying a total stranger; this time it would be them choosing each other… or not.

[cheruverse]

— ✦ : kiss cam with OMORI characters!

☆ — sypnosis : in which KEL makes you and your s/o go to a football game and the two of you appear in a kiss cam.. how did it go?

☆ — genre : fluff

☆ — cws : established relationship, uses of pet names in maris part, using [name] instead because i don't like y/n, kel/j

☆ — note : this is super old- found this stored in my drafts ever since 2023 of september. i rewrote it instead of doing my project as per usual

SUNNY ☆

- well..

- SUNNY isn't interested in watching football, he'd rather just stay home and cuddle with you instead

- but let's just say KEL convinced him to go because KEL'S friends are playing in the tournament

- SUNNY nudges at you to tag along, which you didn't hesitate to accept

- though, he does NOT know what a kiss cam is in his whole life. he's never attended a football game before!

- in general, he doesn't really mind about pda, but likes to keep it a little restricted but doesn't mind about hand holding and hugging

- but a kiss? oh god he's going to die

- bless this poor boy

———

"oh, hey look! you guys are on kiss cam!" KEL pointed out at the big screen, showing you and SUNNY.

SUNNY furrows his eyebrows, confused. he doesn't know what a kiss cam is. you sighed, explaining it to SUNNY.

he looks at you, blinking twice. he looks at the screen, then looks at you, back at the screen and shifted his gaze to you. he's not sure how to react to this..

"i don't think he's—" before you could finish, KEL cuts you off. "awwe, c'mon SUNNY! just a kiss on the cheek for your lover!" he pouted at SUNNY.

SUNNY'S lips form into a thin line and awkwardly looks at you. he doesn't really wanna be the one to initiate the kiss, so it has to be you. he shyly nods.

you turn your head at SUNNY. "well, i'll do it for you then." you gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. you smiled and his ears turn red, averting his gaze away from you.

KEL ☆

- he's been waiting for this for his WHOLE life i'm telling you

- like literally.

- 50/50 probably has begged you to come and watch football with him because of this

- he's even prepared a board pointing at you saying "THIS IS MY S/O!!!!!"

- when you pointed that out and asked him why, he just beams at you saying "because you're special! why wouldn't i show you off?"

- really sweet and.. somewhat considerate but maybe atleast keep it a little discreet

- well what are the chances?

- when the two of you appeared in the kiss cam KEL felt like as if he's won a lottery

———

you were watching football with KEL silently, watching as the players pass the ball.

the team scores a point and KEL cheered on them. you look around the stadium, bored. it was then you see you and KEL on the kiss cam.

you tapped his shoulder and he immediately shot his head at your direction, "uh KEL, we're on the kiss cam.." you said, looking at the big screen.

"oh, i've been waiting for this!" KEL said, his eyes glimmering. "all we have to do is kiss right? no problem!" he smiled. before you could say anything, he planted a kiss on your lips immediately.

KEL pulled away with a radiant grin on his face. "K-KEL! that was too sudden!" you scolded him, your cheeks red.

"hehe, sorry! i was too excited." he enthusiastically said.

you'll let this slide; he's your s/o anyway.

AUBREY ☆

- AUBREY doesn't go to football matches. just watches on her phone

- KEL begged her to go, eventually, to your surprise, she gave in

- just so she wouldn't have KEL annoy her over and over again

- that doesn't mean she's familiar with the kiss cam though

- if you think AUBREY is going to kiss you when there's a kiss cam, you're batshit insane

- she does NOT want to show affection in public

- in private, yeah it's a different story but this is pda we're talking about

- okay well maybe she doesn't mind if it's handholding or a hug, but a kiss? she's going to DIE

- plus, she prefers it in private instead, she doesn't want to kiss you purely because of some kiss cam, she prefers to do it properly and have her prepared..

———

"AUBREY, AUBREY, look!!" KEL tapped AUBREY'S shoulder frantically with a gleeful grin on his face. curious, you look at kel.

frustrated, AUBREY shoots her head at his direction. "gee, what is it?" she scowled at him. "you and [name] are in the kiss cam!" KEL pointed out at the big screen.

"wait, what?" AUBREY looks at the screen, seeing you and her on the screen. you spoke up. "i don't mind kissing you, what about you?" you say, scratching your cheek.

"well, you're crazy if you're thinking i want to. no way!" she retorted.

"c'mon AUBREY! don't be such a mood killer!" KEL pouts at her. "pretty pleaseee?" he pleaded. AUBREY scoffed.

"absolutely not." she crossed her arms. "if you want, i'll have to shut you up." she glared at KEL.

you gave KEL an apologetic smile, "maybe not now.. sorry!" your hands form an x sign. "aww, okay.." he defeatedly accepted it, deflated.

expect AUBREY to attempt in giving you affection in private later in which she fails

BASIL ☆

- has seen a few football matches, but watches if someone asks him to go

- has heard of the kiss cam (thanks to KEL telling him what it is) and is anxiously overthinking about it

- like what if he's in the kiss cam and the person next to him is a total stranger

- ooooh what if what if what if

- overthinking tendencies eat him up

- like SUNNY, he also doesn't mind pda in general. will just water it down to handholding and maybe some hugs

- though, he doesn't mind a quick peck on his cheek. he's used to it, thanks to you. but on the lips? he'll die with SUNNY in this one

- he's going to be red in head to toe

- it's 50/50 whether if he wants to kiss, but you thought he won't

———

"woah, would you look at that!" KEL looked at the screen billboard. you look at his direction, and it turns out you and BASIL are on the kiss cam!

"oh.. why us.." BASIL gulped. he's been thinking about this over and over again— he hoped that the two of you wouldn't be picked!

well, he ends up biting the dust.

you look at BASIL, who seemed to stare off at the distance, but is really nervous. he's fiddling with his fingers.

"well, what're you waiting for?" KEL grinned at you. "uh, wait. give me a second." looking at BASIL'S hands, you placed yours on top of his and gave his hands a light squeeze.

BASIL gazed at your eyes, and you gave him a smile. "can i?" you ask. "s-sure!" he hesitantly nods and you pecked his lips quickly.

his face turns beet red and looks away from you shyly, burying his face in his hands.

you were definitely sure that some people let out 'aw' ed in the audience.

HERO ☆

- eh.. i don't think HERO isn't the type of person who watches football, but watches if KEL invites him anyway

- even if he wanted to, he doesn't even have the chance, he's really busy in college anyway

- though back then, he has watched a few since KEL usually drags him along if he's going to watch football

- has heard of the kiss cam since KEL told him about it but doesn't think much of it anyway

- doesn't mind showing pda, but is a little hesitant when it comes to kisses in public

- the two of you are the embodiment of an old married couple (KEL proclaimed it)

- KEL invites HERO to watch a football match with him, and he goes anyway since it's once in a blue moon that he doesn't have much to do right now..

- of course, HERO tags you along

———

HERO isn't really watching football except when he glances at the stadium for a bit, but he's focused in reading his book despite the noise..

"you can still read even if it's really noisy?" you ask, giving him an uncertain smile. he glanced at you and smiled, "yeah. it's a little hard focusing, but i can still read nonetheless." he says.

you take a look around the stadium and eventually see you and HERO on the screen billboard. "oh hey look, we're on the kiss cam." you said and he looks at your direction.

KEL looks at you and gives the two of you a smug look. "oooh, they're going to kiss!" he says playfully.

HERO laughed nervously, "do we really have to?" he turned his head at KEL, somewhat awkward.

"duh, it's the kiss cam! i wouldn't pass up the opportunity if i were you!" KEL smiled.

"okay, in that case, then.." HERO hesitantly turned his head at you and inched closer at your face. just when the two of you locked lips, he covered both of your faces with the book he was holding earlier.

he pulls away with a small smile tugging his lips, and the audience let out a disappointed 'aww'.

MARI ☆

- hmm, MARI.. she doesn't really watch football unless if KEL is playing or if he invites her along just like HERO

- though, she hasn't went to a real football tournament since she only watches at the playground

- doesn't know what a kiss cam is, so you explain it to her once

- very amused at the idea of that

- she's very open about pda in general! want hugs? will literally give you the best hug you've ever gotten. want kisses? will pepper your face in kisses.

- infact- she's the one initiating most of the time and sometimes would tease you to death.

- she's a sweet person in all, what did you expect?

- tags you along since KEL invited her

———

MARI was watching at the distance with her usual cheerful smile. curious, she looks around at the stadium to see the scores.

her eyes landed on the big screen and sees the two of you. "oh look! we're at the screen!" she pointed out. KEL shot his head at MARI with a raised eyebrow.

he looks at her, and at the screen, and at her again. "woah, the two of you are really on the kiss cam!" he rubbed his eyes.

"kiss cam?" MARI asked, seemingly unaware of its existence. you sighed, and explained it to her.

"oh, then that's just a piece of cake! c'mere, dear!" she gestures you to get closer to her and you do. with a smile, she cups your face and presses her lips against yours for a brief moment.

she pulls away with a content smile and KEL had a smug look on his face. "i didn't expect this to be a thing at all, really." she said sheepishly, with a shy chuckle.

"well now you know," you say. "doesn't mean i won't pass up the opportunity to give my s/o some kisses!" MARI beamed.

[bonny-kookoo]

I NEEED a part two to that snowball angst

Does Jungkook come back and find her missing?

Do Namjoon and Yoongi come back and find her missing?

Do they go and look for her?

Does she get hurt?

I NEED ANSWERS BONNY!

Something buzzes on your wrist, catching you off guard on the small spot you sit on near the colorfully lightened pond.

[Tag Alert] blinks on the small display of the watch-like hybrid safety device you remember getting when you were given into the care of the company and simultaneously the boys. You know what it means- someone's trying to locate you right now. But who? And why?

Does it matter?

You swing your legs back and forth on the bench, heels hitting the concrete slab beneath every now and then while you drink your sugary sweet drink in your hand. Hoseok would always get that exact one every time he'd go see a doctor for anything needing to be done as a treat of sorts- but you're a big dog now. You can get these all you want now.

You can make up your own treats.

You can hear the soles of someone's shoes scratch over something, before a person drops down the wall behind you, almost slipping a little. "There you are!" Jungkook's familiar voice asks, the only thing apart from his sense that you could identify him by since he's covered by facemask and dark bucket hat. "What're you doing all on your own, hm? Did something happen?" He worries a little, squatting down in front of you with his hands on your knees to look up at your face.

You shake your head. "No." You shrug. "Just wanted to go out. S' all." You say, and he lowers his brows into a frown, visibly not convinced. "How was your date?..was she nice?" You ask, and he seems confused now.

"What date- you mean my physical exam? Same as always, just a bit taller than last year. And yeah, the nurse was nice?" He wonders, until he seems to realize. "Wait- you thought I went on an actual date?" He asks, and you look down into the cup in your hands.

"Doesn't concern me anyway.." you mumble. "You deserve a nice girlfriend and all that." You say, but he shakes his head.

"But I've got you?" He wonders, palms running over your thighs in an attempt to reassure. "I don't need anyone else." The idol tries to clarify.

"I'm on my own." You tell him. "I finished gathering all documents.. n stuff for independent living. I'm pretty sure I'll get it approved." You say, trying to seem excited about it.

"If you.. truly want that, I won't say no. I've got no right to decide that for you." Jungkook offers in a tone that's surprisingly serious. "But don't do it because you think that's needed so we can be happy. I know I'm happiest when you're with me." He explains, and you lower your head.

"I.. you know, maybe, but when you have a girlfriend one day-" you argue, and he chuckles.

"But why a girlfriend?" He wonders.

"Boyfriend, who cares what you wanna go for-" you sigh, and he still smiles with his eyes.

"I wanna go for you." He shrugs softly. "I wanna go out with you. Have you as my girlfriend. I thought I made that pretty obvious?" He smiles, leaning his head to the side.

"I- but I'm a-" you start, though he won't let you finish properly.

"-a very sweet and funny and caring and pretty and lovable little being that I want to have around me all the time." He talks over you. "I don't care about anything but you. Being with you. Just the idea makes me all warm inside." He says. "Do you want that too?" He asks, and you squirm. You do- but at the end you know you can't have what you want. "No, don't think of an answer that'll be what's best for me. I want that answer." He says, poking your heart. "I wanna know what that wants."

"That thing is running on nothing but daydreams and wishful thinking." You sigh. "So that thing is useless."

"Definitely not." He disagrees. "Cause mine beats just as fast as yours does right now. And I think I know why." He cheekily comments.

"Thats all the sugar." You try and avoid it, before he leans closer, pulls down his mask to place a short peck just close to the edge of your lips.

"Hm no, that's not the sugar." He laughs at your scandalized face.

"Jung-" you force yourself to hiss a but quieter. "Jungkook, what if someone sees?!" You worry, and he laughs.

"Then let me take you back home, where you belong." He offers kindly. "Where it's just us, where no one's looking, where you're safe and sound. Please, puppy- don't shut us out like that just because you're scared. Don't shut me out." He says now a bit upset, and you can see the way his eyes shimmer, all round and pleading as they watch you. "I love you."

"I love you too but-" you start, but he instead begins to visibly light up, getting up to grab your hand.

"No buts." He shakes his head, squeezing your hand as he leads you back to his place. "None of that. I love you, you love me too-" he says, swinging your hands a bit,

"-and I won't let anything ruin that for us."

[ferrocyan]

15 lines of dialogue

Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

15 feels like too few haha! i'm picking these mostly from finished fics, with a couple of wips at the end. feels like i could go on forever otherwise

tagged by @improvised-finish (tysm!!) and tagging @pillowfriendly and @worldoshaking i wanna read more of your wols pls pls pls (*>∀<*)

(duo)

"I've never heard of such a name before! From which fair land do you hail, friend?"

"Coer--" C'astarhte said something and promptly bit her tongue. She covered her mouth, then quickly added, "Pardon. Meant to say... I come from the Exarch's homeland."

---

C'astarhte looked distressed. She glanced around at the rest of the bar, then at Reeq, and whispered intently, "But this worked before... Crystarium people don't ask about the Exarch."

(detour)

"So we've never really fought together, no? When you say we're partners, I'd like it to be earned."

---

"Doesn't need to," Tart shrugged. "What matters is we do it together. No more objections, right? Surely not." She stuck out her tongue at Lue-Reeq, then headed to the stairs.

---

"You know," Tart said, "you're not bad. I don't know much about archery, but your technique is very clean. Efficient, no wasted movement, very well timed. I was amazed how fast you could nock arrows and have shots lined up perfectly. It was nice to fight with you. Good job, Reeq."

(drown)

She just had to kill Andreia. All would be well if she killed Andreia. Remember what she had done to Alisaie, to Alphinaud? Blackguard. Scum. Bitch. Just kill her and get it over with!

(ask of me)

"No," Tart cuts him off. "Don't want to stop, just... want you to stop pretending I'm not here."

"Am I?"

"You're not touching me, not saying anything, not even looking at me! What's with that, Reeq?" she pouts.

---

"Reeq, you like it when complimented and told you're doing a good job. I feel the same. So, not asking for more, you're giving back to me." She smiles, putting her hand on his. "I like you. Always want more of you. If you're having a good time then so am I. Wouldn't know that if you don't tell me, though, so let me hear it, yeah?"

(focus)

"you're scaring me a little, right now."

she smiles. "is that bad?"

"not at all. i quite like it."

"good."

(wurm)

"Say, remember when you asked, would I still love you if you were a worm?"

Reeq snorts. "Why yes, I do! I remember perfectly well," he pinches her cheek lightly, "when you told me that you would feed me to your chocobo."

(peel)

The man is ecstatic, so very amused that he cannot hold his giggles back. His feet kick as he laughs and his tail thumps on the floor, shaking with glee. Unable to wait for Reeq to finish his sentence, he fills in with an exclamation:

"Tart!"

Tart only makes himself laugh harder.

(division)

"ishgard has ways of denying certain people's existnce. mean really, completely erase them, unlike the shite that bishop was spewing about himself. my family no longer exists. how dare he accuse me of not understanding how it feels to be rejected? and how dare you take my prey?"

---

tart holds his focus in his right hand, blade in the left. his tail flicks uneasily. "go easy on me, won't you?"

"what? oh my, i never thought i would hear that from the warrior of light!" aymeric laughs as he readies his own sword.

"i'm ill, you blackguard."

"then maybe you should rest properly."

"hasn't helped. this might, so stay still and let me cast magic at you."

(out to the cold)

"--get it, i get it. zenos wanting me makes me a liability. now that you all have the dragon scales' protection, i am not needed anymore. you--they're setting you up as my replacement. no. no, they can't. won't allow it. can't let that happen. oh--you--you're here to kill me. you can't replace me! i'll kill you first! you're dead, estinien wyrmblood!"

(aphelion)

"not that i want to die, g'raha. just... wish i'd died back there. it wouldn't've been good, but it would've been perfect. my life could've ended perfectly. haven't you felt that way too?"

[television-overload]

[FIC PREVIEW]

2023 NCIS/Tiva Christmas!

Here's the first scene of my upcoming Christmas fic! I'm hoping to have it finished by Christmas, of course. Let me know if you want to be tagged! It will also be posted to AO3 (ContentsPriceless).

I'm actually gonna edit this to take out anything mentioning Ducky's funeral, now that we know they'll cover that this season, so you get an ultra-rare pre-editing peek 😅

I'm sure I'll write a tribute fic at some point, maybe a fix it if we don't get cameos or at least a hefty mention of Tony and Ziva .

“Daddy, Daddy! I can see the glaciers!” Tali announced excitedly, her face pressed up against the small airplane window.

Tony DiNozzo smiled and peeked over her head of wavy brown hair to catch a glimpse of the snow-covered Alaskan wilderness below. “You remember what you learned about glaciers in school?” he prompted.

“Uh-huh! They’re like frozen rivers that move down the mountains!”

“Something like that,” Tony chuckled. “You’d better sit down and buckle up, Tals, we’ll be landing soon.”

The nine-year-old obeyed, sitting back in her seat where her legs didn’t quite touch the ground—though the way she’d been growing lately, it wouldn’t be long.

“Can I have your phone to take pictures?” Tali asked once she was properly buckled, the seatbelt tightened by her father until he deemed it sufficient.

With an exaggerated sigh, Tony fished the device out of his back pocket and handed it over. “Don’t take too many, we need to save some space for pictures of all the other cool stuff we see.”

With his daughter occupied, Tony turned his attention to the woman sitting in the aisle seat beside him.

“Hey, you doing alright?” he asked in a low voice, placing a hand on her knee.

She had been shifting uncomfortably for the last hour or so of their flight, unable to get positioned in a way that took the pressure off her back. They had broken up their journey from Paris with a day’s respite in New York City, where they were able to catch up with some of Tony’s extended family. Tali, in particular, loved seeing the sights and stuffing her face with giant slices of pizza. But still, it put a lot of strain on Ziva’s body.

“I am starting to rethink what a good idea it was to travel so extensively while pregnant,” she spoke with a grimace, rubbing her rounded belly in comforting circles.

Tony hummed in sympathy, his fingers finding her lower back and massaging there as best as he could in such a confined space. She sighed in relief, her head falling against his shoulder and her eyes drooping shut.

“In our defense, when we planned this trip, we didn’t know you’d be five months pregnant,” he said softly with a teasing lilt to his voice.

It was true. They had almost given up on the prospect of having another child, promising that if it didn’t happen before Tali turned ten, they would stop trying. But finally, after years of negative tests, they got their positive, and Tony and Ziva were overjoyed. Tali, too, was looking forward to having a baby brother or sister. The high pitched squeal she had emitted when they first broke the news proved to them that she would be the best big sister a kid could ask for, and she had slept with a copy of the ultrasound in a frame beside her bed ever since.

But when they first started planning this trip almost a year ago, they had not planned on an additional passenger in utero, which definitely complicated things a little. After Gibbs visited them in Paris for the holidays the year prior, they knew they wanted to be with family. That had been the first time they’d seen him since Ziva had finally been reunited with Tony and Tali, and there was a lot of joy to go around. Tali had taken to calling him Grampa Gibbs, and in almost no time at all, they were like two peas in a pod.

“I can’t wait to see everyone,” Ziva murmured, a small smile pulling at her lips. “I hear Jimmy is bringing Agent Knight.”

“I’m glad,” Tony said, “it will be good for him to have her there, I think.”

Although the shape of their makeshift family had changed a lot over the years, love was still at the heart of it, that was the only thing that mattered. They’d met Jessica Knight only once, at Ducky’s funeral a few months back, but the consensus was that she was a great match for Jimmy, and she seemed to get along with Victoria too.

It had been a reunion of sorts with everyone coming to pay their respects to the beloved M.E., even Abby who sadly wouldn’t be able to make it to Alaska this Christmas. This year would be strange, without Ducky there to verbosely share stories of Christmases of old. His warm smile and even warmer hugs would be greatly missed by all who knew him.

After a few more minutes, a voice came over the speaker instructing passengers to take their seats for landing, and Tony pressed a kiss to Ziva’s temple.

“You hear that?” he said, his lips brushing against her hair, “Only a little bit longer, hon.”

-.-.-

... to be continued

Tag list: @benedettabeby @earanemith @happygirl-0408 @hopeless-nostalgic @indestinatus @loudlooks @nicolem194 @putthekettleon @slippery-soapbox @tivafanfic @tonysziva

[gurugirl]

I'm sorry dear madam, but I don't think you understand how good of a job we've done with A Good Boy. I just finished reading the main 5 parts and I'm an emotional wreck. You, Miss Guru, are a genius. You have such a distinct way of seeing and understanding humans with complicated emotions. I knew it when I read priestrry. I loved how you explored priest Harry's sexual desires and how you developed his character, made him more confident the more he discovered his sexual side and became comfortable with his sexuality, the conflict of being devoted to God and still wanting physical pleasure and his love for his pet and loved how you wrote her character. But with A Good Boy it's the complete opposite of the main theme of priestrry. While for me priestrry highlights human's desire to have sexual/physical pleasure of all kinds without being judged for it, A Good Boy highlights the very basic need to be wanted and loved by someone. And it makes my heart so warm. I'm feeling so overwhelmed rn, my heart feels so full.

I didn't intend on reading this rn because I wanted to go through all the one shots first. But idk how I started reading it but I couldn't stop. And I'm glad I did. I told you that Baby Daddy is my favourite work of yours but now I'm eating my words and I am being bold here when I say A Good Boy is not only my favourite work of yours but also your best work along with Forgive Me Father. These two are two sides of a coin really. I can't get over how both these represent two different but basic human needs... One is heavy on physical needs and the other is heavy on emotional needs.

Can't get over how good boy harry is just so soft and gentle and adorable but also confident and throws attitude towards her when needed. He knows what he wants and what needs. That's why he waited to have sex. He wanted it to be worth it. Loved how he convinced her to give in the first time and continued to do so after they broke up and finally succeeded. Loved how he was showing his age trying to make her jealous and she was jealous but she knew what she had to do, she knew it was better this way even though it was hurting her. Her concerns about the situation were so valid. She is older and he's still very young and he could just get over this phase in few years and might not be interested in her the same way anymore. So what happens then, she loses Leo and his money and she loses Harry. But that's not the case , which she understands the more Harry tries to convince her to be with him. God I felt so bad for her. How she craved warmth of all things, not even love. She loved Harrys warmth but then she craved more without realising it. Their connection, their love.... I just feel so much for them but I have no words to describe it properly.

It's also so interesting that Leo found connection with someone else even though yn is young attractive beautiful woman and he already had her. It just proves that we don't know who our hearts would connect with. So how can we blame yn for finding this connection with her stepson! Yes it's a bit complicated and not easy but they are close in age and similar in character. She married Leo for his money but she found love and now nothing else matters for her and she's ready to lose everything and use her degree which is also gonna be difficult. But that's love isn't it? It makes you blind but sets you free.

I'm so happy you ended it the way you did. I haven't read the extras yet. Gonna read them then I'll share my ideas. I know you said some anons were rude about this story but you have to write more of it please. I'm begging you. You have no idea how I spent last two days. It felt like I'm with them, going through all those heartbreaks and misery. I need more of them. And I'm gonna finish the three extras and read the tag and all the ideas and add my ideas to it and I'm gonna be annoying about it because I loved it so much. I don't think I have ever loved a fic this much. It feels like I'm gonna die if I don't read more of them. If only I could give my teo hands so you could write more. You're great you're just so fucking great and I'm fucking grateful for everything you write but A Good Boy has stole my heart and I'm never gonna be the same

I can’t even properly form the words to thank you for this feedback - like.. you truly seem to have felt and gone through all the emotions I felt writing it and hoped others would feel.

A Good Boy was one of my favorites to write and just hearing you talk about it makes me want to reread it.

The funny (annoying) thing about being a “writer” on Tumblr is that some stories we share start out with us (me + other writers) having really good intentions and ideas but then it’s so easy to get caught up in the negative feedback (or simply just hardly any feedback) and the story can take a nose dive bc we realize (or assume) hardly anyone’s reading it anyway and then we second guess ourselves wondering if our idea or our writing is even good to begin with and suddenly inspo or desire to continue writing a story is completely gone.

That’s what happened with A Good Boy for me. I decided to finish the main series where I did so that it kind of gives us closure but leaves parts of the future up in the air. That way those who didn’t want to read more could finish the story there happily with closure. But I always intended on having updates of their future and how they’d navigate the difficult parts of telling Leo and dealing with fallout for anyone who still wanted to read the rest of their story.

But then I had an anon who didn’t understand why I finished the story where I did and I why I was doing extras with more of their story and bc I was I already barely getting feedback or reblogs it just felt like that’s what everyone else must think if the story is tanking anyway.

I love the story and I have more in mind for them and maybe I’ll feel inspo soon! I hope so bc I miss them.

Thank you so much for this. It really means a lot to me to hear 💕

Xoxo

[gintokiu]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤

love love love getting Tumblr messages, especially if they come from Rena! thank you so much for thinking to tag me and get me back on this ye olde blog. I will do my best to answer since most of my favorites are unfinished and waiting for me to have time to complete them asdfgh anyway, starting from the bottom:

5. Unfinished, unposted work: Worth the Wait

This one is fun because it's something I'm currently working on and I am soo obsessed with it; it's an AU of a fantasy game that I've put way too many hours into recently. I think that the overall premise of the story is something akin to finding things in places that you wouldn't expect them to be, which I always love when it comes to Gintoki and Hijikata, because that's kind of like, their thing? It's set right now to be three or four chapters long and ahh I can't wait for it to be done. I hope, like usual, that the AU doesn't shy people away because they might not know about it/played the game. :') I can't help I only like writing AUs I'm sorry adsfgh

4. Fahrenheit

This story has such humble beginnings and such a warm place in my heart. It was actually the first ginhiji fic I ever wrote and oh god, it was fucking horrible. Rewrote it when I matured more as a writer and am hoping that I figure out where exactly I want this one to end because it's a bit of a toss-up. Right now, I am simply enjoying writing all the modern-day fluff and antics (and sex) until the plot decides to cement itself properly in my brain.

3. Hirudinea

The big one, the one that my brain refuses to write even though I have the plot all there waiting for me to write it. The powerpoint for this story is crazy. I'm looking forward to one day getting to tie this one up with a nice little bow and give it the proper love it deserves, but I want to finish other things first. Forcing myself to write things only ever ends in me hating them and I refuse for that to be the case with this story because there is so much love for it in me and seemingly in the community <3

2. Ninety-Nine and The Flight, the Fall, and the Forsaking of a Crow

There are two for this spot because I can't make up my mind. The Flight is another one with very humble beginnings. I wrote this, god, six or so years ago originally? Rewrote it when I started posting my work and fell in love with the new rendition of it so much. I'm such a sucker for transformations and gaining new understandings of the world, which is exactly what Gintoki gets to go through, which is why it means so much to me. The pacing is there, the emotion is there. Truly one of my favorites of mine that remind myself that I can write sometimes, LOL.

Ninety-nine I love because it is so easy to write. It's the child that never backtalks, never gets in trouble-- it's just golden. The plot for this is fleshed out all the way to the end and the powerpoint is thirty slides longer than Hirudinea's at a whopping 91 slides. It's a beast. I have end chapters completely written, just waiting for the rest of it to catch up. While definitely not my most popular piece, it's the one that I love to work on the most and I hope I can give it the ending that it deserves :') ahhh there's so much I want to say but can't so I'll just leave it here and talk about it later when it gets closer to being complete.

Things That Happen During the In-Between

Certainly did not expect this work to get the recognition that it did when it was posted. When I tell y'all that I hated this story for the longest time because I reread the same scenes fifteen, twenty times over, edited each one at least three or four times super in-depth to the point where it became beyond predictable in my mind. So then I post this, and people are all like "I cried!" I'm like HUH what do you mean you cried? this work sucks?? So then I waited like a month, reread it, and understood that yeah, okay, I actually didn't do that bad of a job with this one. My personal favorite aspect of this story is the characterization, because there are so many parts where I can read through it and say with confidence that that's a very "them" thing to say/do. (I also just love and adore the second movie, it's such a good film and I'm glad that I was able to do it some justice with this story.)

this was such a treat to do, once more thank you @renamusing for tagging me <3 I'll send a few out to some authors who I think are active on my tumblr so if you get one then consider it a little forehead kiss mwha

[dragonflylady77]

Tagged by @spaceofentropy

Name: Guin

First fandom you became a part of? I'm so old that there was no internet when I grew up... But I always had an obsessive nature... Lady Oscar comes to mind when I was at primary school, and Cat's Eye (anime from the 80s).

What was the first tv show fandom you joined? I was VERY into The X-Files while it aired. I had trading cards and posters and magazines. Then Buffy the Vampire Slayer came along and well...

How old were you? late teens/early 20s

Latest tv/movie fandom you became a part of? The Righteous Gemstones. Kelvin and Keefe are just...

A tv/movie fandom you haven't joined but like to creep on? Good Omens, I gues. I have watched s1 and been reading the ficlets my HG peeps have been writing. Or Wynonna Earp. I love the show and read some fics, also retweeted stuff to save the show but did not actually join the fandom.

Your favorite fandom? Harringrove, hands down.❤️

The tv show that gives you the most brainrot? I think I'm gonna have to say Justified. Because it's the one that comes to mind when someone asks me what my favourite show is, every time. I don't actually have a ship on that show, though I can see why people ship who they ship. I love the characters and the actors and the writing and the storylines, and how it was finished properly (no lose ends, no cliffhangers). I'll always watch it if it's on because it's like a security blanket and I always enjoy watching it.

The fictional couple that gives you the most brainrot? Harringrove. I can't stop coming up with new ideas for fics.

Guilty pleasure fictional couple? I have zero guilt associated with things I enjoy. Life is too short for that kinds of bull

Guilty pleasure tv show? Same as with the previous question.

And finally, something that made you happy this week? Cuddles with my baby (Willow, 7 months, technically my friend's baby lol), cuddles with my baby boy (16 next month), the fact that baby cat (that's what we call my cat, okay?) is sleeping on my bed because it's only MY bed now and the bitch (other cat who hates my cat) isn't in that room anymore, chatting with my baby girl (19) who is moving home in 3 weeks and i can't fucking WAIT.

no pressure tagging @lazybakerart @half-oz-eddie @whenyouwishuponastar7 @intothedysphoria @shieldofiron @deedoop @peanut-booi