#happy new year to all who read these tags!

[cutehoons02]

You don’t have to tease the "Ice Prince"

*pairing: pervy boyfriend Sunghoon idol x coquette Girl

*tags: grumpy x sunshine

*synopsis: What if your boyfriend finds out you’re reading a "spicy" one-shot found on Tumblr with him as the male lead?

*tags: Teasing, fluffy, humor, Sunghoon is a pervert, jealousy, possession, tease each other, embarrassment, unprotected sex (don’t horny people) + 18 minors don’t interact,cowgirl with skirt,masturbation,kissing,fingering,a little degradations (slut,bad girl),pet names (good girl,princess) (Hoonie) fluffy moment at the end

(English is not my native language)

5.4k (🎀)

You were on the sofa where you shared the apartment with your roommates but luckily that weekend they were all going out, you had your phone in your hands and were particularly distracted and curious by what you found on Twitter. Your mind wandered, while the sound of water rushing from the shower made you aware of Sunghoon’s proximity which was a few meters away. You had just seen a fan account that recommended your boyfriend’s new Tumblr fanfiction dedicated to him, written by a profile who was very popular on Tumblr because this account wrote fanfiction about Enhypen and each one-shot had thousands of likes. Curious, you decided to read it, without imagining that reading would trigger an unexpected reaction from your boyfriend.

"Hmm, let’s see what the fans say about Hoon..." you thought opening the link.

Meanwhile, Sunghoon, who had just showered, came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel with his usual serious but relaxed look. It seemed the perfect version of "Ice Prince" even then, but those who knew him well knew that inside he hid a more sarcastic personality and a little perverse, especially when it came to Y/n. Hoon looked at you while you were busy reading something on your phone and his look lowered on the top that you had with small bows that stood out your shapes above your breasts. Still, his eyes moved immediately on your skirt of a good girl who loved to put on, especially during the weekends to go out in the clubs or to tease the direct interested, always appreciated your physique but your legs were the thing that made him more and more excited, they were: skinny to the point, straight, your thighs were firm and a little muscular for all those years you had done sports and loved to put you on his big legs muscled and crazy when you rode it.

He had a little bit of a kinky mind when he thought about you but when he talked about you to his friends or family, he always described you as his favorite kind of girl, You were sweet with everyone, you studied a lot, and were happy to be your boyfriend because in more than 6 months of relationship you had almost never argued about anything and he was happy to have a healthy relationship.

'What are you reading princess? 'What is it that has so much attracted your attention?' You looked up completely embarrassed and gave him a little smile that he loved to see you do, was a sincere smile but at the same time you were hiding something

"Oh my God, Hoon! You scared me I didn’t think you had already finished washing" You immediately turned off the phone and put it on the small table that you had in your room.

Sunghoon, as he was drying his hair, raised an eyebrow, almost annoyed at your response. Walking towards you and with a low, mysterious voice he said: 'What were you looking at? Don’t tell me you were still reading those dark romance books that you’ve been obsessed with lately.'

You looked at him with bright eyes and the eyes that passed from the phone to his body in plain sight that you had before you and the thing that made you blush most was that he had only a towel tied to his waist and nothing else. "Uhh.... one of your fans on Twitter posted a link to a Tumblr story... about you. It seemed interesting and I read the plot just to see what it was about."

Sunghoon looked at you with a mischievous smile 'Interesting, huh? And what does this story say?' He came up to you and blew on your neck, making you a little bit scared but also excited. The air between you two became immediately more charged and he laughed nervously. " Well, it’s about this super cute girl... and a mysterious and sexy guy who is called "Ice Prince" as well as you, who wins the heart of this girl. It seems to me that they have used a little too much imagination..."

Sunghoon stood in front of you, bending his head with a funny smile. 'Oh? And how do you think they describe me, eh?' His voice was low, and his tone more provocative.

You sunflower to look at him with an ironic smile on your lips. " Well, I guess you’re the typical 'Ice Prince', but with a hidden side you would say a mix between a possessive guy of his girlfriend and we also add sexy but at the same time that you love to have it just for yourself and treat her as if she was the only one for your eyes."

Sunghoon approached slowly, leaning towards you, the eyes shimmering with a mischievous light. 'Sexy, uh? And how would you like me to be, Y/n? Because I know you like to play with fire and you know that with me you will be sure to bite.'

You blushed slightly but didn’t back down. " Ah, but you know it, Hoon. I like you both as 'Ice Prince' and as... possessive guy towards me and that you treat me like your princesses." Your smile widened as you added, "And then, it’s not my fault that... you’re so sexy and handsome, aren’t you?"

Sunghoon stopped for a moment as if that sentence had struck him. But then his perverted side took over.

Sunghoon came even closer, almost making you touch your body. 'Oh? Sexy, huh? Then you should tell me which part of me makes you crazy."

You chuckled, unsure of how to answer. "Well, Hoon, that’s it. You drive me crazy when you’re serious and cold, but also when things get hot...and when only with me you show me the most human part of yourself"

Sunghoon looked at you with a twinkle in his eyes and lightly stroked your all-red cheek and gave you a little kiss 'Oh, Now I understand... so you like it when it comes out both my perverted part that is only with you princess but also when I make the perfect boyfriend, huh?'

The tension between you was palpable, as if every word, every look, were a little game of seduction. You knew that Hoon had that side of himself he never showed to others, but you, with your chatty and carefree character, managed to get it out.

"Well, if I say it too clearly, you’ll become even more perverted, and your alpha male ego will double up so maybe you should just let it go."

Sunghoon smiled with a face that defied innocence. 'Oh, don’t worry, you know by now my 'perverse' is only for you." and gave you a wink and went to your room to dress.

You watched it amused and your mouth curled into a mischievous smile. "I know, Hoon. And I love you for that."

After the dinner you had prepared for you two, Hoon stretched and you saw how he looked good with his fake nerd glasses, gray jumpsuit pants, and a slightly loose shirt that wrapped up his beautiful toned physique. Hoon wanted to relax and you put them in your bed to watch a series but after a while Hoon fell asleep hugged you and you took some photos to send to the other members to tease him after your session as a photographer with a grin, you dumped Tumblr because you were curious to know and read what fans wrote about your boyfriend and you found hundreds of one-shots with #Sunghoon x reader and thought in a low voice "Wow, they’re all so... smut and intense!"

The stories were almost all based on Hoon, but each time they described more daring, provocative versions of him, some even a little "inconvenient". There were many stories of him in the vampire version, in the nerd version, in the Ice Prince King of Ice Skating etc, etc. A wave of excitement and curiosity crossed you, but there was also a small part of you that felt... jealous... No, not exactly. You were just a little amused by the idea of all those girls writing about him, almost as if they wanted it in the absolute way.

You would see with your finger and put some like to stories because you wanted to read them absolutely and you stopped at a particular story and thought.

"Oh, I can’t believe they imagined this... Hoon is so different when you know it, but I don’t mind that they see it like that. Who wouldn’t be attracted to him?"

You kept reading, while every word, every description of Hoon as a "perfect guy" made you smile. But the more you read, the wider your grin became, a little amused but also surprised. Hoon, although more shy and distant, had another face that came out in the fans' dreams. You had found a story interesting and tried to read it but while you were reading and you were almost halfway through the story and you were completely absorbed in the reading, a warm hand suddenly squeezed your wrist.

You shoot, finding yourself face to face with Hoon, who is looking at you with a mischievous and... dangerous smile.

'It seems to me that you are finding something interesting in that phone, Y/n '

You felt a shiver down your back. You didn’t know if you were excited or a little scared by his expression.

"Oh... nothing, I was just... just running through. It’s not what it looks like." you gave a forced smile, trying to hide your embarrassment and curiosity that you had to finish that story.

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, still holding the phone and in a deeper tone told you. 'Really? Because it seems to me that you are reading some... detailed stories about me.' His voice had a tone that mixed the game with a kind of warning, but his grin added tension.

You were a little more nervous, trying to get away from his grip, but he stopped you with a look that left no room for doubt. Sunghoon came closer and his warm breath on your ear gave you a little shiver. 'You know Y/n, it’s not nice to do things without asking... but I like that you’re curious.'

You felt your legs give a little, but you did not let yourself be discouraged.

"I didn’t think you were jealous of fanfiction, Hoon. It’s not my fault they’re so fascinated by you." You said in a slightly provocative tone and Sunghoon smiled at you, a smile that, though affectionate, concealed a veil of danger. 'Oh, I’m not jealous. But more than anything... I’m curious to know what you like about me, and how you react to these stories. Do you think they’re right? Or maybe you’re trying to... imagine something more? What is it that, I don’t suffice in flesh and bones that touch you, To make you come with my hands or fuck you?'

You looked into his eyes with your mouth slightly open in amazement, feeling the atmosphere change completely. " Maybe I want to see what happens when the game gets... more interesting and how you imagine your fans in situations like this..."

The whole environment seemed to change as if the serenity of the evening had been replaced by a thrill of anticipation. You should have been very careful that night because Hoon was not at all like his fans described him in those fanfictions.

And now... he seemed ready to let you discover a whole new side of himself...

Sunghoon, with the phone still in his hands and a smile of pure satisfaction, settled more comfortably next to you. His fake nerd glasses reflected the light of the screen, and his gaze was fixed on you as the tension in the air grew. You watched him, nervous, trying to grab the phone, but he was too fast and kept it out of your reach and looked at you with a look that made you understand that you should be in your place.

Let’s see what my princess was reading with such interest.

'Am I curious as well to know what the fans think of me... or maybe us?'

You tried to hide the redness that invaded your cheeks and saw the look of Hoon down to your long legs completely uncovered and your skirt that rose slightly as you were sitting, you tried to pull the skirt down to cover your legs, But Sunghoon was quicker. His big hand laid naturally on your completely naked thigh at this point, touching the skin uncovered and making you shudder when while gently touching your thigh it also left you little pinches.

You were definitely nervous and tried to stop his hand from slowly rising more and more "Hoon, it’s nothing! Just... nonsense, really. You don’t have to read!"

Sunghoon ignored you and with a cold smile said: 'Nonsense? Let’s see...'

He began to read aloud, with his calm and deep voice making the words sound even more intense.

"'Hoon pushed her slightly into his bed and her look was icy as he sat down leaning on the bedside keyboard he made her lean on his muscular legs. His voice was a whisper, but strong enough to make her lose her head: 'You can’t run from me, you know that?'"

You held a hand to your face, embarrassed to the bone, while Sunghoon kept reading in a funny but sharp tone.

""His hands slowly slid down her legs, leaving a trail of chills. She needed no words; his touch was enough to make her understand that it belonged to him... completely.'""

Sunghoon’s hand, meanwhile, moves slowly on your thigh, almost following the rhythm of words. His eyes never broke from the text, but the smile on his face revealed that he knew exactly what he was doing.

You almost stammering you said. "Hoon! You can’t... I mean, stop it! That’s not fair!"

Sunghoon smiled and smiled, just turned his gaze to you 'Isn’t that right? You were reading these things about me. I think you were very curious, didn't you? Or maybe you wanted... to imagine something more?'

Your eyes were pierced and his words struck you. Your mind was in turmoil, torn between the embarrassment of being caught in the act and the excitement that Hoon was creating with his calculated and direct attitude.

Sunghoon came to your ear, with a low and sharp tone. 'Tell me, princess, why do you have to act like a bad girl and read these things when you have me right here? Don’t you just have the original?'

His hand slipped slightly higher on your thigh and when he found the edge of your panties he began to pass one finger along your entire lace edge and you held your breath.

What did you have to answer him? With the truth or with a lie?

"Maybe I just wanted to... figure out what the others see in you."

Sunghoon laughed because he knew it was a lie, you just wanted to cover your ass so you wouldn’t face the consequences.

'What a nonsense answer. You don’t have to find out through Tumblr. You’re the only one who can see the real me. And I assure you that I’m far more interesting than anything these stories can tell.'

The atmosphere between you had become more intense, almost palpable. Sunghoon, despite his serious tone, had that spark in his eyes that indicated how much he was enjoying seeing you embarrassed and, at the same time, excited by the situation.

'Now, tell me: would you rather read more stories or find out what I can do? Because, I’m not just the ice boy that everyone imagines... but this you already know, right?'

You didn’t know exactly what to say and there was an awkward silence, your cheeks were all red and you were torturing your nails with your teeth. It was a reaction that Sunghoon had never seen before. He watched you, his grin was more and more pronounced. This rare vulnerability of yours to see was a weapon he would never have wasted.

Sunghoon came closer to your ear, with a low and icy voice

'What’s the matter? You’re speechless? You can’t even defend yourself, where is the girl who loved to tease me and test me with her arrogance?'

You looked at him, swaying, biting your lip to try to calm the embarrassment that grew to excess.

"I can’t stand you, Hoon! You’re unbearable!"

Sunghoon stopped, pretending to reflect for a moment. Then he smiled a dangerous, almost sharp smile.

'Unbearable? Are you the one who has decided to read certain things? Are you the one who has behaved like a bad girl?'

His words hit you like an arrow, growing that mixture of embarrassment and tension that made your heart beat faster.

"No... it’s not true. It was just curiosity."

But he didn’t seem to want to let you escape. He scrolled the fanfiction on your phone and began to read aloud again, in a slow and dangerous tone:

"His lips settled on her skin, slowly descending as he held it under him. «You can’t run away», he whispered to her, his breath against her neck, making her tremble. It was all control and desire as if every movement of her was calculated to drive her crazy... and while he kissed her neck he fingered the already completely moist panties and said: take off your panties without getting up from my lap and leave the skirt of a good girl that you are not for nothing"

Sunghoon’s hands moved slowly on your uncovered leg, his fingers brushing with a delicacy that seemed almost dangerous the center of the panties and felt they were already wet. You hold your breath, trying not to be overwhelmed by the sensation.

'Put yourself over my length, princess, let’s see if you can recreate this scene,' said Sunghoon looking at you with a cold look. When you heard these words you pushed him slightly to leave but he blocked you with a wrist.

"Hoon, stop it! I told you to stop it! I was just curious you don’t have to act like..."

Sunghoon stopped for a moment but with an even more intense smile

'Stop? You are the one who made me discover these things. Now you can’t complain'

You tried to reply, but you didn’t have time. Before you could say anything, Sunghoon took you by the hips put his muscular legs over you dropped the phone next to your bed, and leaned towards you and his lips found yours with a chilling confidence, yet warm and overwhelming.

The kiss was anything but gentle. He was full of desire and control as if he wanted to show you that no story, no fantasy written by a fan could compete with what he was.

Initially, you stood still, surprised by the intensity of the kiss but soon you found yourself to respond to the kiss. His hands immediately sought your ass and brought you even closer to him so you felt immediately its hard length between your panties that slowly became more soggy; you tried to push it away because you were slightly angry, But you ended up clinging to his shirt, as if your body had decided to surrender. Completely to him.

Sunghoon slightly detached from your lips and whispered to you:

'Tell me, princess, do you still think these stories can truly describe how I feel about you? Or must I prove it to you again?'

You looked into his eyes, still unsure of how to react. Your breath was fast, your heart was beating so fast it seemed like Hoon could feel it.

"You’re not... you’re not as intense as they describe you."

Sunghoon laughed, a low and deep laugh that seemed to vibrate in the air.

'Intense? Y/n, I haven’t even started. Take off your panties without completely taking off from me and leave the skirt' He said to you in an authoritarian way you would have wanted to yell at him but his gaze was fixed on yours and looked at you with a grin.

You knew he was playing with you, but you couldn’t deny that that side of Sunghoon - so sure, so controlled yet passionate at the same time was irresistible to both your mind and body.

"You’re terrible, Hoon." Whispering, trying to regain control, You slowly rose with your knees from your legs, and slowly as if you wanted to tease him even more slipped your pink panties with the bow between your legs and immediately felt the cold air around your pussy that was getting wet more and more.

Sunghoon bent down to the level of your lobe and said to you. 'Good girl' with a mischievous smile

His lips immediately went to give you small kisses on your neck and at the same time sucked it to give you the idea that only he could leave you red marks, You would have seen them in the next few days as you would have gone to see them in the mirror and you unwillingly your hips and your pussy now completely wet move slowly and unconsciously along its length still covered by your pants.

'You were embarrassed until a few minutes ago while I read that shit on me and now you’re here like a slut rubbing up on my dick, who are you y/n? Take off my pants but don’t you dare to take off my boxer, I want you to come straining over my dick and if you’re good I could give you a little help'

You stared at him as you felt that he had called you slut but at the same time you were even more excited because he had used his tone and sharp point that he used a few times with you, but when he used it you knew that it would end not bad anymore. You saw Hoon take off his shirt and stand bare chest and put your little hands in his strong muscles and you covered them as if they were made of gold and with the hands, slightly trembling feces slip his pants of the suit on the ground and with a snatch he brought you back over his boxer shorts and you with your pussy completely naked could feel the attrition of his cock that was getting bigger and bigger inside the boxer shorts.

His big hands were around your hips and at the same time on your ass and began to make you squirm against its length and every time you tried your mind was clouded with pleasure, you could not wait to have it completely inside of you. " Hoonie, please" You heard Sunghoon giggle and gave you a light slap in the ass and you jerked both for the scorching but also the excitement.

'Use the words Y/n, you are no longer that little girl who had to learn how to take my cock. They created you with your mouth both to take my dick blissfully but also to talk and to have your opinion, use her' You rubbed again your pussy dripping in his boxer shorts, and with embarrassment saw that you had slightly wet them and you were not only wet but there was also a more slimy part attached to you.

"Please let me come, I’ll be good to you" Sunghoon stretched your buttocks slightly and saw that you were gone, Your pussy was dripping, and without telling you he stuck his finger in the center of your heat and began to pump it up and down and at the same time curl it inside you.

'Are you satisfied? You know I shouldn’t even make you come, right? I don’t like bad girls who read dirty and you know that, But today you crossed the line. You read some dirty things about me with the knowledge that I could discover you' You sighed slightly and another finger entered inside you and as a good girl, you took both so well.

Sunghoon was ecstatic, You had only the bra on obviously pink candy with cute bows, and that fucking little skirt that now held it up to see how your pussy took well his fingers but with a brusque gesture immediately pulled them out and looked at him with the mouth slightly. " Hoon, no please, it was so nice please you can’t" Hoon put his finger on your lips to make you shut up and lightly smeared your arousal and licked it.

"How many times have I told you that you shouldn’t tease the ice prince in me, Y/n? I will only make you cum with my dick inside of you and you should also thank me because I could go again to take a shower and masturbate instead of making you come.

Sunghoon pulled up his supreme black boxer shorts and his cock slightly bounced in her sculpted V-line, it was long, thick, and slightly veiny and you already knew that you would have a hard time getting it all inside your tiny tight pussy. With slightly trembling hands and the excitement you had between your legs, you took it in your hands and gently pumped it, you would have wanted to tease him but Sunghoon was looking at you with a funny look but at the same time serious and if you did something that he would not be well he would leave you alone or punish you. You pumped it for a good minute and saw how Sunghoon was passing his fingers through the thick hair after a while you got up slightly and tried to take it but the feeling of its tip pressing on your hole was too much.

Sunghoon held your ass tight and you tried to get used to it slowly and felt his cock working its way into your tight pussy, you jerked so sweetly and a little moan came out of your lips and Hoon was amazed to see you so all for himself, The eyes began to slightly become brighter as your hole tightened around him. Your swollen lips drop into a pretty "oh!" and he smiles.

"Fuck- Hoonie is too big! I can’t!"

'You can do it for me, princess. It’s the second time you've taken him sitting between my legs and already the first time you had enjoyed', his breath is hot against your ear. 'I’ll make sure it goes well. Just when you feel comfortable mount me slightly and then I’ll help you as the last time ' You already feel so drunk on his dick, you struggle to keep your eyes open while he sticks his big tip in the sloppy hole. Hoon’s cock contracts so well inside you to the sight. 'Come on, darling, be a good princess for me, I already feel that you can ride me.' was so excited to see the way your pussy is gaping so shamefully open for him. Gasping gasps at every push, every ride you make of his cock your pussy squirts and milks it well with all your slimy sperm. " Hoonie...too much," Whine a little until you hear your boyfriend untie your breast strap and start sucking on a nipple all hard, and at the same time his big hands were on your hips helping you ride his dick 'Oh god it’s so nice to be on top of you, Please continue to suck my breast"

'open your eyes princess,' moan, touching the bottom in a quick push 'Feel how you take it all...like a good girl or I can call you slut?' your head shakes no, The stretch is enough to break you but Hoon won’t stop until he’s buried in your dripping pussy all the way.

You can’t think. You don’t even realize that your tongue is sticking out until he pulls it out and bends over to suck it when he pushes it back in while your boob bounces at every push of his cock, his hands slamming against your ass in the process. You’re so overwhelmed with him that you can’t return the kiss. The kiss had begun gently but after a while there was nothing sweet and gentle left it was rough and with its strong arms you imprisoned between him. Moving away from you, he smiles as he begins to pull out inch by inch in a painfully slow way. 'the pussy belongs, my cock is yours and I repeat you do not need to read those one-shots about me' he hums, while the dick enters you again and you mount it as if you were obsessed by him.

The rhythm that starts is numbing and makes you delirious. "Oh! Oh my... oh my god! Hoonie please!" You can’t do anything but take it while Sunghoon is getting closer and closer to orgasm. 'I’ll fill you.' he whispers, with a husky voice and dripping with despair. "Must I remind you that you are mine? That you can only take my dick and the only one who can love you and feel all these feelings is me?" You nod enthusiastically, "Yeah... I’ve been yours for months now... Hoonie!" That’s what’s driving him. He impossibly increases the pace, so violent that your skin burns where his hands hit you and slightly pinch your ass. 'Fuck, you’re so beautiful, who would have thought that the girl super cute and with a coquette style girl could be fucked so well by me, an asshole who loves to possess you and love you'

breaks dangerously, the look lost in the cock full of white cream that forms around its base to look you in the eye, 'I need you like this forever...all my life'

"Yes yes yes, please! Forever please!" is completely intent on making you babble for him and being so completely obsessed with him both mentally and physically you can’t stand it anymore.

Your eyes are wide open when he starts hitting your g-spot, fingers sticking into his arms. " Right there! Oh! Hoonie right there is so good to feel and have you just for me!" little howls leave you.

'right here, princess?' purrs, the tip presses more in that soft spot. His eyes are dark and glistening with something predatory. Your body moves with every push, you jerk repeatedly and slam against his cock. Hoon’s thrusts become sloppy when he is near, and the body bends to groan in your ear. 'I'm coming princess' Wrap your arms around his body to pull him closer, you need to feel his heartbeat against yours before pressing your lips on his cheek. " I’m coming Hoonie!!"

You come so strong that your body trembles in Sunghoon’s arms, you were too exhausted and drunk on his cock that all you can feel is Sunghoon beating inside of you. " Hoonie, inside like this, it’s so beautiful "moans softly, the words get blurred as he gives you little kisses on the cheek. The slob hole trembles at the feeling of being so full. "I know princess," he whispers, his voice was light and sweet again. Patiently wait for you to let go of him so he can clean you, not wanting to accidentally trigger but instead of loosening the grip, you curl up against him more, and after a while you start to kiss lightly all the little ones that you loved so much in his face and you saw him slightly become a little embarrassed and his cheeks were even redder.

"I love you, Hoonie." He made you stand up slowly and when he made you lie down he went straight away to get a clean cloth to wash your intimate areas and after a while put on his wide shirt and made you take off that already crumpled fabric of your little skirt and embraced you and gave you a small kiss in the Front and looked at you.

'I love you too, You must never doubt what I can do for you, Y/n. You don’t need those fantasies. You have me and I can give you everything you want. From crazy sex, to love, to protection...whatever you ask" You embraced him, and after a while you both fell into a light sleep as you hugged each other.

OMG🤍i hope you like it not know if you want but I would write this reaction for the other members, would you like?

[totallyjustabunchofhocuspocus]

Fic: Vigil 1/4

Pairing: Buck/Tommy

Magical Realism!AU

Inspired by: THOSE pictures of Lou Ferrigno, Jr. You know the ones. I promise anyone who has seen that new photo shoot knows exactly which pictures gave me the wizard!Tommy brain worms

Okay, also, I'm going to ask you to trust me a little on this first chapter. This is tagged "chose not to use archive warnings" on AO3 for...reasons. It is also tagged angst and angst with a happy ending. I like to make things hurt. But I also tag accurately.

Read on AO3

Evan looked beautiful in the candlelight.

He always looked beautiful.

He’d been beautiful the first time Tommy had ever laid eyes on him—a cocky, headstrong kid, fresh out of college and convinced he was invincible. He’d flirted outrageously with Tommy, barely aware he was even doing it, as tempting as the brightest, sweetest fruit and every bit as forbidden. Tommy hadn’t been interested in playing with that kind of fire, and he’d steered them gracefully back from heat and innuendo, smoothing their conversations over into something that was easily excused by Evan’s gregarious nature.

He'd been beautiful a few years later when they crossed paths at one of the many charity galas Margaret Buckley was forever putting on. He’d held court in a small corner of the ballroom, new breadth to his shoulders, the cockiness tempered by genuine confidence, some of the rough edges of youth sanded down by time and experience (and according to local gossip, a few tours with the Peace Corps). The flirting had still been outrageous, all sly, flashing smiles and sparkling blue eyes that met Tommy’s over the rim of a champagne flute. The temptation was stronger that time. Tommy had watched him covertly all night, mesmerized, unable to keep from wondering how the planes of his shoulders would feel under Tommy’s hands, what that deeper voice would sound like wrecked and breathless, how those pink, pink lips would look stretched around his…

He had left the gala early that year.

Evan was still beautiful the year Tommy finally formally aligned himself with the Buckley family as their wizard adept—officially in charge of security for Buckley Industries, but far more entrenched in the family’s business than such a simple title. He’d been beautiful under the glittering chandeliers that hung from the ceilings in the Buckley mansion, laughing with his sister, his tie undone and hanging loose around his neck after the unbearably long banquet (supposedly held in Tommy’s honor—mostly held to rub the fact that the Buckleys were wealthy enough to engage the exclusive services of a licensed wizard in all of their business associates’ faces). He’d been beautiful in the multicolored lights of the over-the-top fireworks Philip Buckley had Tommy create for entertainment—more intricate than any professional Fourth of July display, naturally—once the champagne had been flowing for a few hours. He’d been beautiful in the shadows on one of the mansion’s many terraces, silvered by the moonlight as he tipped his whole body—bigger and broader and more solid, now, a self-assured man and not a cocky kid any longer—towards Tommy’s and teasingly wondered aloud why Tommy hadn’t asked him to dance yet that evening.

He'd been beautiful pressed up against an ivy-covered trellis and stretched out in Tommy’s bed and water-slick and flushed under the shower and every other way Tommy had ever seen him, all the days and nights that they’d managed to steal together since.

He was beautiful now, in gentle repose. The candlelight cast a warm, soft glow over skin that Tommy knew was pale and icy cold, caught the golden glints in his sandy brown hair and the fan of his eyelashes. He was dressed in one of Tommy’s favorite suits, his hands folded over his chest, still and quiet as they never were. He was so still.

“Oh, God.” The words came from directly beside him, and he almost startled, tearing his eyes away from Evan’s…from Evan to turn and look at one of the people he’d been dreading seeing the most.

Maddie Han looked as though she hadn’t slept in days. Her face was pale and sallow, her red-rimmed eyes sunken into her face. The stark black dress she wore—immaculately styled, but hanging loose on her, as though she had already lost weight—made her look even paler than she was, and she held onto her husband’s hand with a white-knuckled grip that looked painful. Howie wasn’t complaining, though, just standing silently beside her and staring at the front of the small chapel. His eyes were filled with a quiet devastation that very nearly matched the depth of Maddie’s.

“He looks like he’s just sleeping,” Maddie whispered, tears welling up in her eyes and spilling silently down her cheeks.

“He’ll—” Tommy broke off, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat. God, he’d known this was going to be hard…he’d known that. He saw now, though, that he’d been a fool to think he’d be able to prepare himself in any capacity for how hard. “I called in some favors for the…the preservation. He won’t—he won’t look any different. Not until we…” He stopped; took a deep breath. Maddie quietly let go of Howie’s hand to reach over and take his, and it was almost his undoing. He closed his eyes against the sight of Evan lying so still.

So, so still.

Maddie was wrong, was the worst part. He didn’t look like he was sleeping. Evan was never still when he slept—Tommy knew from experience. Nearly five years of experience, now. Evan tossed and turned, pressed himself close as he could to Tommy’s side, threw a leg or an arm over Tommy’s body before he ever settled, as though he needed to be touching Tommy at all times to be content. The delicate skin of his eyelids twitched and trembled with his dreams, his lips parted with sighs and half-murmured words. He was never so…

Fucking.

Still.

“I’m going to…” Maddie started, taking a half step towards the dais Evan had been laid out on, surrounded by candles and flowers. So many flowers. There was a meadow’s worth of flowers surrounding him, their sickly-sweet scent swirling through the candle-warmed air. Evan would have hated it. Howie moved to follow his wife, but she shook her head minutely, looking back at him with teary eyes as she squeezed Tommy’s hand and then let go. “Just give me a minute alone with him?” Her words trembled, catching on the ragged edge of a sob, but her back was straight and her head held high as she walked toward the dais, the click of her heels echoing dimly off the stone floor.

Howie scrubbed his hands over his face, letting out a shaky sigh. When he turned to look at Tommy, Tommy wanted to flinch away from the sympathy and sadness he saw in his friend’s face. He’d been faced with so many different expressions in the last few days—anger, recrimination, wariness. But the pity was the worst. It burned like acid against his skin, like drake fire, like hellhound blood. He could take anything but the sympathy.

“How you holding up, man?” Howie asked gently. So, so gently, and Tommy didn’t deserve it. Didn’t deserve any of it. He couldn’t hold back the bitter snort, swallowing back all the words that wanted to spill out like bile. Howie winced at the sound.

“How do you think I’m holding up?” Tommy asked quietly, his shoulders slumping as he focused on Evan again. So quiet. So cold.

So still.

Howie’s hand landed on his shoulder. “Yeah, sorry…stupid question.” He pressed his lips together. “Has Eddie gotten anything else out of the fucker that did this?”

Tommy crossed his arms over his chest, forcing himself not to shrug out of Howie’s gentle grip. Evan wouldn’t want him to push his friends away right now…especially since that friend was also Evan’s brother-in-law. He looked down at the floor of the chapel, tracing a minute crack in the old stone that had been there for who knew how many years. There were at least four generations of Buckleys buried in the family crypt under his feet.

In three days’ time, he was meant to take the love of his life down there to join them.

He looked up at Howie again, and he knew his face was as stony as it had ever been on any combat mission he’d ever flown. “Plenty. By the time Eddie’s done with him, he’s going to wish he’d never been born. And then I’m going to talk to him.”

Howie was silent, but a grim sort of satisfaction flashed through the sadness in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak again, but was interrupted by a harsh, wrenching sob from the front of the chapel. Instantly, they whipped towards the sound in time to see Maddie sink to her knees, clutching one of Evan’s limp hands to her chest. Howie’s whole face crumpled at the sight, and he rushed forward without another word.

Tommy stood frozen, his chest tight, his magic burning through him, fists clenched so tightly he felt his nails break skin in a few places. All his power, all his magic, years and years of training and education…and he couldn’t prevent this. He’d sworn his service to this family, and he couldn’t protect Maddie from this heartache. He couldn’t keep Evan’s parents from inviting a snake into his life, hadn’t realized the man’s true intentions in time to prevent…this. He knew in his heart that Evan wouldn’t see it that way…but he’d failed. He’d failed in his duty. Failed to keep the man he loved, the man who was his everything, safe.

He'd failed.

*

It was nearly midnight before the chapel was empty. Philip and Margaret had secluded themselves in their rooms. Howie had at last prevailed upon Maddie to rest. Eddie had quietly slipped in to pay his respects a few hours earlier…and give Tommy an update on what he’d been able to learn from the man currently locked up in the mansion’s basement—bound in chains Tommy had enchanted himself and guarded by three of the nastiest spirits that owed Tommy favors.

Daniel was en route, due to arrive by plane early tomorrow morning. He’d been in Beijing for most of the last month, overseeing a merger Buckley Industries had been working on for the better part of two years. Philip had absolutely forbidden Daniel to disrupt the negotiations…even for this. Tommy sincerely hoped the deal was worth it to the man, because he was pretty sure Philip had burned every remaining bridge he had with his older son in one fell swoop. The magic that bound Philip and Margaret’s children to their parents’ decisions was old and strong…but it was not infallible. Philip was going to discover that, and soon.

But that was for tomorrow.

For tonight, he had sworn to Maddie that her baby brother would not be left alone in the dark.

Even if she hadn’t begged him to stay with Evan, an act of God couldn’t have pried him from this small, stone building. He closed the outer door, at last shutting out the world that had done everything possible to break him in the last month. Closing his eyes, he pressed his hand against the heavy wood, his magic sinking into the door and spiraling outwards. To the average eye, nothing happened, but when Tommy opened his eyes again the door was crisscrossed with lines of magic that burned like live embers.

Nothing and no one would be disturbing Evan’s rest. Not while he breathed.

Finally, he turned toward the dais and slowly walked toward it.

Evan looked peaceful. There was no trace of the pain that had contorted his face as he clutched his throat, gasping and choking for breath as he collapsed into Tommy’s arms. No trace of the bloodied spittle that had bubbled from his lips as he convulsed before his eyes rolled up in his head and he went so terrifyingly limp and still. For the rest of his life, Tommy would remember that moment. He knew he’d be seeing it in his nightmares for years to come.

Sal had done a good job with his spells. He was the only other wizard Tommy would have ever trusted with this…with Evan. He could have done it himself, but this kind of magic was intricate. Delicate. He honestly did think he could have woven it half as well; not in his current state. He could feel the shape of the magic laid over his love’s body, but it was not glaringly obvious. Just as Maddie had said, the illusion was perfect.

Slowly, hesitantly, he reached out, running a gentle hand through Evan’s curls, tracing his fingers down his cheek. Cold. So cold, and so still.

He hadn’t thought it would hurt this much. Stupid. But he hadn’t thought it would hurt this much.

He gathered one of Evan’s cold hands up and pressed it against his cheek, closing his suddenly burning eyes and just breathing. The candles flickered over Evan’s face in soft shades of warm gold.

He looked beautiful in the candlelight.

[bunsiesblog]

My Promise to You

s!1 Viktor x Showgirl!reader

A letter Viktor writes to his childhood friend and first love. A reminder that he has not forgotten his promise to save you. It sits unopened in your Madame’s safe, along with the other dozens of letters he sent to you these past seven years.

tags: childhood friends to lovers, love letter, minimal use of Y/N, affectionate czech name, ‘letters? what letters?’ trope, inspired by the Notebook, yearning, Viktor is actually king of yearning,

468 words

A/N: I am currently drafting up a fanfic that is written as letters between you and Viktor. The premise is that he moved to Piltover and you stayed in Zaun as a showgirl at a less than reputable establishment. He promised to take you away and everything he has done has been to come through on that promise. The gag is that the Madame of your club has been withholding the letters you guys write to each other.

I’m just such a big fan of a man who does literally the most for his girl, except you aren’t really his girl you’re his best friend which makes it all 10x more romantic to me. Anyways, here is one of the letters below that I just wanted to share with you all

➽───────────────❥

My dearest Y/N,

It feels strange to write to you again, knowing I might not receive a reply. And yet, I can’t stop myself. Writing to you feels like the only way to keep you close, even when the distance between us seems unbearable. I don’t know if these letters are reaching you, or if you’re reading them, but I hope, somehow, that you can feel the words I send.

It’s been years since I left Zaun, and I can’t help but wonder how much you’ve changed. I imagine you’re as radiant as ever, your spirit as unyielding as the city that raised us. Do you still find the hidden corners of the world to call your own? Do you still climb rooftops to breathe above the chaos below? I often find myself thinking of those times—how simple it all felt, even though it was anything but.

I want you to know that I’ve never stopped working to keep my promise to you. Everything I’ve done, everything I’ve built here in Piltover, has been with that promise in mind. I graduated, Lásko. Top of my class. I’ve even taken a position at the Academy, assisting the Dean. And now… now there’s something new.

It’s called Hextech. A project I’ve been working on with my colleague, Jayce. We’ve discovered a way to harness the arcane and shape it into something tangible—something that can help people. I believe this could be my breakthrough. Our breakthrough. With Hextech, I’ll finally have the means to do what I’ve always wanted: to build a life, a future, where you don’t have to endure the chains that bind you.

I know it’s taken too long. I know I’ve failed you in so many ways. But I need you to know that I haven’t forgotten. I think about you every day, wonder if you’re okay, if you’re happy—or at least as happy as one can be in a place like Kitty’s. I still remember the look in your eyes the last time I saw you, the way you told me not to worry about you.

But I can’t help it, Lásko. I can’t stop worrying.

I hope you’re safe. I hope you’re surrounded by people who remind you of your worth, who see you for who you are—brilliant, kind, and stronger than anyone I’ve ever known. But if you’re not, then please, just hold on a little longer. I’m getting closer. I can feel it.

When the time comes, when I have everything I need, I’ll come back for you. I don’t care how long it takes or what I have to do. You once told me that I was meant for something greater, but you’ve always been my reason for striving.

You once saved me. Now it’s my turn.

Yours always,

Viktor

[steddie-island]

Cookies for Grandpa

Written for @steddiebingo 12 days of Christmas Prompts: Cookies, candy canes A continuation of Life finds a way but can (theoretically) be read alone! Rating: G | WC: 625 | Tags: Domestic fluff, adopted children, kitchen disasters ao3 | Divider credit

Their kitchen was coated in flour. Eddie wasn't sure, but he was pretty sure the grainy sound was sugar against the bottom of his workboots.

When Steve had said he and Andrew would be baking cookies to take over to Grandpa's house, Eddie hadn't imagined the kitchen looking quite like a tornado had torn through it after. Any time Steve baked he was meticulous, clean, he needed everything to be just so.

Then again, he'd never had a three year old helping him out, either.

The low murmur of their voices became louder as Eddie passed through to the dining room. There were two pans of cookies laid out. Some of them were more brown on the edges than others— no doubt from the two of them getting distracted while they baked— but otherwise they looked mostly intact.

"Hey!" Steve looked up at Eddie with a bright grin. He had flour in his hair and frosting smeared across one cheek."We were wondering when you would get home!"

"Hi Eddie!" Andrew stood up in his chair, and Steve immediately grabbed on to the back of it to keep him from falling backwards. "We maked cookies!" He had frosting on his face, too, smeared across his forehead and into one of his eyebrows.

"I see that!" Eddie stopped in the doorway to the dining room to remove his sugar encrusted boots, then came close to press a kiss to the tops of their heads. "It sounds like you boys have had a busy day! Do you need help decorating? I'm really good at that."

"Uh-huh!" Andrew dropped the candy cane he'd been eating onto the table before gesturing to the cookies that had already been decorated.

The base frosting was a muddy yellow color. Some of the cookies had what Eddie was sure were supposed to be flowers while others had hearts on them.

"I see you found a use for all of those extra candy canes."

"Who doesn't love a candy cane cookie?" Steve asked. He shot Eddie a wink, then stood up to guide Eddie into his empty chair. "Why don't you two keep decorating? I'll go check on Liz, and then I think there's a kitchen that is in need of some major TLC."

Eddie wasn't sure if that was an excuse for Steve to get some much earned alone time or not, but either way he was happy to sit and take over. "We'll be here!" he said. "Won't we, buddy?"

"Yeah!" Andrew shifted in his seat so he was on his knees instead of standing in the chair. "I show you how!"

"Good luck, Ed." Steve pecked his lips, ruffled Andrew's hair, and headed for where Liz was sleeping in the living room.

It'd been nearly six months since they'd taken Andrew and his sister Liz (short for Elizabeth) into their little home. Six months of paperwork and caseworker visits, of moving so they weren't all crammed into one bedroom and learning how to handle the occassional toddler meltdown.

Nearly six months of learning that they wouldn't be waking up alone together anymore, that bedtime would now come with sharp knees digging into spines and little feet tucking into their underarms and a head full of curls in their face— something that wasn't so new for Steve, since he and Eddie had gotten together.

Six months of diapers and spit-up and learning to run on three hours of sleep.

They'd both been right, it had been hard sometimes, even when it was fun. But as Eddie listened to Steve sweeping up sugar, and as Andrew corrected the placement of his candycanes to make the cookies "even perfecter", it hit him again that he wouldn't trade that six months for the world.

[brenna]

In a Drawer & Out of View

Fandom: Good Omens | Relationship: Aziraphale/Crowley | Category: F/F | Rating: T | Chapters 4/4 | Words: 5,991 | Author: scullyphile

photo credit : peganum from Small Dole, England - Back garden, CC BY-SA 2.0

Summary:

Aziraphale came to apply for a nanny position, but by the time she got there it was filled. There was, however, still an opening for a gardener. The only problem? She had a black thumb. After she got the job, Aziraphale learned she'd be sharing a cottage with the nanny, who also happened to know a thing or two about plants. They decided to tend the garden and raise the child together. An arrangement of sorts. The Warlock Dowling years if the ineffables were human women.

read on ao3

Written for the Ineffable Secret Angel and Demon Exchange 2024 for @jesmalestiel

Thank you to my lovely betas and besties: @on1occasionfork & @kneelbeforeyourdogbabylon

Goblin Mention: @goodomensafterdark

Tags and excerpt below the cut:

Tags: Nanny Crowley, Gardener Aziraphale, Alternate Universe - Human, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Ineffable Wives, Godparents, Light Angst, Happy Ending, First Kiss, Cuddling

Excerpt: She had nowhere to go, no other prospects, and, frankly, this job was her last chance for a roof over her head. If it didn’t work out, she’d be back to spending her days in the library searching for employment and her nights on friends��� couches.  When one of the staff had mentioned that the Dowlings were still looking for a gardener, her ears had perked up at the opportunity. Surely this position would also include room and board? Aziraphale was willing to take her chances for a shot at a real bed, and set about making a new plan. In her satchel, she had two versions of her CV. The first had been edited to showcase relevant work history for the nanny job. The other was a more generic version with a wider variety of skills and occupations. None of them applied to gardening, but she fabricated a plant-related hobby as she walked, pulling words from conversations she’d had with her friend Muriel, who had a lot of houseplants (ones they no longer allowed Aziraphale to take care of when they were out of town, not since she’d nearly killed them all). “I helped my mother with her garden when I was younger. Thought of myself as a guardian. Gardenian?” she rambled, trying on the pun for size. Mrs Dowling’s mouth crinkled like she’d tasted something unpleasant, so Aziraphale kept talking. “In any case, I made sure animals didn’t eat the plants, rabbits and the like, you know. I took it entirely too seriously and learned a lot from my mother about plants that way.” It was partially true. Aziraphale had often been in the back garden, playing with a toy sword. She’d been too lost in her imagination to worry about the plants at the time, however. And the game had lost its appeal when she no longer had the sword. She’d given it away to a girl in class who was being bullied.  But Mrs Dowling didn’t need to know any of that. 

continue on ao3

[stayevildarling]

Hii! I'm requesting an angst /hurt/comfort wilhelmina, billie, cordelia and reader fic, with reader who let's say is getting threatened by someone, like a warlock, another witch etc. But the threats are really really bad, that could put her girlfriends in danger. So reader makes the decision to leave them, and the academy and her friends behind in order to keep them all safe, but her girlfriends have absolutely no clue why reader is trying to get away from them, and because she can't tell the truth, she has to say some really hurtful things to them in order for them to stop pushing and finally leave her alone. After a while, maybe one of her girls find out why reader did what she did, and they track her down to talk this all out and to help put a stop to whoever is sending the threats

Happy ending please💛💛

Cordelia Goode x Wilhemina Venable x Billie Dean Howard x Reader- Threatening Secrets

A/N: enjoy🤍

tw/tags: established poly relationship, female reader, mention of violence, mention of gun, mention of past mental health struggles, mention of smoking, cursing

word count: 3.5k

taglist:

@lunaticwhittaker , @billiebeanhoward , @lanawinters-ily , @kenzbro , @minaslittleone , @httpfiftyshadesofgay @whitelotus00 , @ninaahelvar , @paulsonsratched , @vintagepaulson , @isle-of-earle , @grilledcheeseandguavajelly , @lucyintheskywithxanax , @fanfics4world , @mymiraclewitch , @hazard-to-myself , @awritersometimes , @wastdstime , @p1pecleanerwitheyes , @queen2234 , @ihartnat , @lifebyinez , @ahsatanizgay, @laavaagirl, @stepintomyworld

When the first letter arrived weeks ago, you assumed it was a prank, finding it in your office on your desk within the academy. The threats were harmless at first and you brushed it off immediately, shoving it in a drawer inside your desk and not wasting another thought about it as you had to deal with enough at the academy, new witches joining, taking care of teaching your classes and your girlfriends of course.

But when the next one came a while later, a feeling of unease crept into your chest as your shaking fingers ghosted over the letter that looked like it had been written with a typewriter. And from then on it only got worse, specific instructions as to what to do and that you had to leave the academy and your girlfriends behind in order to keep them safe. You thought about telling them at first but with Billie‘s show, Wilhemina‘s work and Cordelia being the supreme and headmistress, you didn‘t want to add too much to their plates, thinking you could deal with this on your own at first.

Sadly it never stopped though, letters reading exactly what coffee shop Billie had stopped for work that day, what Wilhemina had worn or what Cordelia had been doing flooded in and you couldn‘t stop the anxiety in your chest. You tried everything at first to see who had sent them, using countless spells to track them back or find any clues as to where they came from, using some time of your day to follow your girlfriends and see if you maybe noticed anyone suspicious. But every single attempt left you without any answers and all you could do in return was slowly pull away, the last letter reading if you so much as even tried to tell them they would suffer the consequences and die.

And you couldn‘t let that happen, your girlfriends having been your rock for years. Billie the sunshine who always made you smile with her jokes and her attitude, Mina undeniably your safe space with her steady arms holding you and Delia the person you could rely on always. But of course they noticed your silence, how you would spend most days and nights in your office, skipping on meals with them and slowly pulling away from your usual routines. You missed them with every fiber of your being but you also knew you needed to get used to being without them as the letters left you hopeless and fearing you have no choice left.

Cordelia was the first to notice the tension whenever she was near you, how you flinched and often backed away. Mina noticed how you barely talked and Billie noticed the sadness behind your eyes. They had tried so often to coax you out of your office, bringing you meals and cradling your face in their soft hands to get something, anything out of you. And ultimately that made the decision to leave even worse. But you couldn‘t find an option and you feared who sent the threats, knowing if they had stalked the academy in the way they had, your girlfriends may truly be in danger, especially the medium and redhead who after all didn‘t have any witchpowers to defend themselves.

One evening, Wilhemina found you in the hallway, as you slipped from the bathroom back into your office, gaze fixed on the floor before your eyes met familiar purple and a cane. „Little one“ she smiled upon seeing you but the concern lingered in her eyes. „Where are you off to?“ she asked and as her brown eyes locked with your own, you felt like faltering under her loving gaze, missing her more than anything but remembering the words from the letters. „Just my office, got a lot of work to do“ you mumbled, avoiding her gaze. She sighed in response as she tried reaching you. „Little one, I have talked to Cordelia and you shouldn‘t be this busy with your academy stuff, please tell me what‘s going on, we want to help you“ she pleaded and the softness in her tone made the heartache even worse.

„I just need some space“ you mumbled and you missed the way her eyebrows furrowed. „From us?“ she asked and your eyes closed as you practically forced the response out of you, despite it killing you with every fiber of your being. „Yes“ is all you managed to say before leaving, basically running into your office and slamming the door shut as the tears took over and you practically broke down. Wilhemina stood in the hallway stunned, never having seen you like that before and being able to tell that this wasn‘t you. But no matter what they did, you only pulled further away, letters arriving daily at that point and so you made your mind up one day, packing your things early in the morning when all of them had been at work and gathering most things in your office, not wanting to leave them with the additional heartache of having to sort through your things.

That afternoon you lingered outside the greenhouse, the aftersun sun casting beautiful tones of orange and yellow on Cordelia‘s skin as you watched her teach a class passionately. You couldn‘t help but smile, a bittersweet one as a tear streamed down your cheek, remembering your first kiss with the supreme in the greenhouse and how she had taught you everything you by now know in there. After dinner you watched Billie from your office window, having her after dinner cigarette and watching her scroll through her phone, seeing her golden locks and how beautiful and perfect she looked. You wanted so badly to say goodbye to them but you couldn‘t, knowing Cordelia would see right through you, knowing that Billie wouldn‘t stop fussing if you even tried to say goodbye.

But you couldn‘t stop yourself from finding Mina that night, her office door slightly ajar as you hesitated. She had been through enough and you knew this would kill her, having you leave without an explanation. And so you finally knocked a quiet „Come in“ seconds later before you stepped inside. Her features softened as soon as she saw you and it killed you inside. „Hi little one“ she greeted and you stepped inside hesitantly as she set the book down she was reading. „Am I interrupting?“ you asked nervously before she quickly shook her head „Nonsense“ she smiled before you stepped closer. „I was wondering- can I have a hug?“ you asked, so quiet that she almost didn‘t hear you. She immediately steps forward, not wasting any time as she wrapped her arms around you.

As soon as you felt her arms around you, the tears streamed down your cheeks but her shirt soaked them up, leaving your heart breaking in her arms. You held on for dear life, wishing you could speak up and tell her. But you didn‘t, letting her arms keep you steady before she pulled away to look at you. „Are you okay?“ she asked, the concern evident as you mumbled some words of reassurance. „I love you Mina“ you whispered as you left her be, hiding away in your office, waiting for them to sleep before you took your bags and left, aimlessly walking away from the academy and checking into a motel on the outskirts of town, breaking down that night as you hid away under the uncomfortable covers, wishing you could be with them instead.

When they searched for you the next morning, your girlfriend’s suspicions after what Wilhemina had told them left them uneasy. They found a letter on your desk, realizing it was empty as well as your things being gone, some words about not being able to do this anymore and it being better that way. They couldn‘t believe it, Billie digging through your shared wardrobe and finding it mostly empty. Cordelia tried calling you countless times but you had turned your phone off, knowing they would do this and wanting to avoid further heartache. That day was silent in the academy, your presence missing and their hearts aching as they tried to find an explanation.

A few days passed and they struggled in their own ways, Billie smoking far more than usual, Wilhemina snapping more and Cordelia searching your office again for any clues, holding onto your letter and trying to read between the lines. A day later she dropped the letter under your desk, seeing a locked drawer as she bend over and unlocking it with her magic. And then she finally found it, the letters tugged away neatly and beginning to read over them. Each letter felt like her heart was breaking all over again, realizing you had done this to protect them, anger taking over as she wishes you wouldn‘t have had to go through this on your own. That night, she found Mina and Billie in the dining room, throwing the letters on the table as tears linger in her eyes.

„What is this?“ Billie asks confused as she picks up the stack, her manicured nails ghosting over the writing and when she begins reading, tears swell in her eyes, understanding why you left, what you had to deal with. Wilhemina‘s knuckles turned white when she read them, seeing the dried tear stains and anger washing over her. „Why the hell didn‘t she tell us?“ she snaps, pacing in the room as her cane angrily echoes through the silent room. „We could have helped her, she didn‘t need to leave“ Billie cries as mascara runs down her cheeks. „She wanted to keep us safe“ Cordelia mumbles as the three of them sit in silence.

„Who would do this?“ Billie breaks the silence after a while and neither of them have an explanation before Wilhemina snaps „We have to find her and end this, Cordelia you can find her right? with your magic?“ she asks and the supreme nods. „Let‘s go“ Billie ushers, determination in her face as she stands tall. They don‘t waste time, getting into a car and the blonde using her magic to trace you to the run down motel at the outskirts of town. The receptionist isn‘t necessarily helpful but Wilhemina doesn‘t have a lot of patience left and so she eventually tells them which room you are in. When a determined knock snaps you away from your thoughts, you walk to the door, not expecting this to be anyone you know as often drunk strangers had knocked and stumbled to the wrong room.

When you see the three of them, your breath hitches and you freeze, having longed for this moment for the past week without them. „You- you shouldn‘t be here“ you try keeping your composure before Cordelia walks past you, stepping inside, followed by Billie and Wilhemina as they close the door. „Why darling?“ is all that Billie says that causes the tears to return. They scan the room, uncomfortable and cold, seeing the liquor bottles, takeout countainers and empty cigarette packets as it had been your only way of coping. Wilhemina falters as she sees the photo frame of the four of you next to your pillow, unable to imagine the pain you had been in.

„You need to leave it‘s better that way“ you mumble weakly as you remember the threats and letters. Cordelia steps forward but you back away before she whispers „We know darling, we found the letters, you don‘t have to pretend anymore“. Upon hearing the words your whole world tilts upside down, realizing that after all your careful steps you forgot to take the one thing that would eventually lead them to do this, forgetting the letters. They watch as your strong act falters, knees buckling and hands shaking as the tears take over and Billie is quick to step forward, catch you in her arms before you completely break down. Sobs wreck through you as she sits you down on the sofa, holding you as Wilhemina and Cordelia keep their own tears at bay. „Shh babydoll, it‘s okay, we are here now, you‘re safe“ the medium coos as your chest heaves with the pain you had endured.

For a while the only noises are your sobbing as you hold onto Billie for dear life before you glance at Wilhemina and Cordelia who stand almost frozen. „I‘m so sorry, I never meant to say those things and leave like that- I was just so scared“ you admit which causes Cordelia to kneel infront of you. „My darling girl, you have been so brave, you wanted to keep us safe and we aren‘t angry at you“ she coos as she wipes your tears softly. „All we want is to take you back home and find the person who did this“ she explains and you meet her eyes as insecurities fill you. „You- you still want me?“ you ask weakly and the question takes Cordelia‘s breath away as Wilhemina steps forward, taking your hand. „Little one, of course we want you, these past few days have been hell“ she explains „And I can‘t imagine how much this has been for you“ she whispers.

You nod weakly, letting Cordelia scoop you into her arms as Billie and Mina begin packing your things. „Thank you“ you whisper as Cordelia‘s hand holds yours firmly as they lead you away from the motel and into their car. Billie holds you on the backseat the entire car ride home and eventually you fall asleep in her arms, not having been able to sleep a wink without them. They carry you inside, changing you into something comfortable before laying you in your usual spot in the middle of your shared bed, the three of them holding you through the night as they couldn‘t be more grateful to have you back safe and sound, knowing there was still things to be done, the person responsible needing to be found but for now, you didn‘t need to suffer anymore.

It took a few days for you to adjust to your acaedemy life again, Billie helping you sort through your things again and get settled into your office, Cordelia taking over your classes to give you some time and room to heal and Wilhemina would keep a close eye on you, making sure you are truly fine and helping you heal gently. And slowly the smiles returned to your faces as you healed together and with each other. Cordelia worked hard with the council to trace the person but it was a slow process as you had already tried to find the person responsible.

Everything was going great until you found another letter on your desk, this time a small box too and when you closed the door, your breath hitched as you realized this wasn‘t over. As you open the box your world stops as you see a loaded handgun, the letter reading „You failed. You have three days to end your life or we will kill them all“. Your hand lingers on the gun, ghosting over it and the letter and suddenly thoughts fill your mind, the same ones you have had in your past. But almost like magic, there is a knock at your door and Cordelia and Wilhemina step inside as they wanted to check on you. „What the hell?“ Mina snaps as she walks towards you, Cordelia quick to comfort you as she takes your trembling hands and hands Mina the letter.

„I‘m so sorry“ you whisper, as she wipes your tears „I thought this would have stopped“ you cry as Cordelia closes her eyes. „No sweetie, I am sorry. You shouldn‘t have to deal with this and I promise you, I will make this stop okay?“ all you can do is nod into her chest as she holds you, Wilhemina taking over as Cordelia heads out to the council, wanting to get this over and done with once and for all. They had a few hints and traces but nothing really seemed to work in order to make it stop. And each of them felt guiltly, seeing how it was eating you up and how they could do nothing other than hold you.

For two days there was silence and you had hope, hoping that the councils efforts to trace them may have scared them away but when you find a letter in your coat pocket the next day, you lock yourself in the nearest bathroom to read it. „One day left, last chance“ it reads and inside you find a small blade, a painful reminder of the times when you self harmed some years ago, the scars barely visible by now. And you knew they were trying so hard, holding you, making you breakfast and sitting with you, not wanting you to be alone throughout the day but you consider it then. Ending it all would make the suffering stop after all, stop the threats and you only had one day left, remembering the gun and you knew they weren‘t messing around.

For the remainder of the day you manage to hide away but once the evening rolls around you hide away for dinner, your girlfriends immediately on alert as they try and coax you out of it. But you manage to force your best smile, saying you wanna catch up on work and eat later, blade pressed into your palm. Hours later you manage to snap yourself out of it, push the thoughts away as you find Cordelia in her office. As you step inside, you see her bright but concerned features and as you hand her the letter her face drops. Without a word, you open your palm and let her take the blade and her eyebrows furrow in confusion. „Was this inside?“ she asks and when you nod she sighs, checking your face and walking to the door. „Mina.. Billie“ she calls out and immediately the two of them rush over.

„Stay with her please, we are ending this tonight“ she sighs with determination as she presses a quick kiss to your cheek, telling you how proud she is of you and taking Billie, knowing the medium could be of use. Mina stands there a little stunned, seeing you so quiet and as she approaches, her hand gently strokes your cheek as she asks what happened. „Just another letter“ you sigh and she frowns before being able to tell there is more to this. „What is it?“ she asks as she sits you both down on the sofa in the corner of the room. „There was a blade in it too“ you admit and her eyes close in pain before they ghost over your wrists. „Did you?“ she asks and your eyes widen, the two of you never really having talked about your past before. You shake your head and a proud smile fills her features as she holds you in her arms. And you let her, resting your head on her chest and listen to her steady heartbeat.

Neither of you talk, the woman simply holding you as she couldn‘t be more proud of you for how you handled this whole thing. Occasionally you sniffle but she is quick to wipe the tears before you eventually fall asleep in her arms, blanket draped around you both as she softly rocks you back and forward, Cordelia‘s office providing peace and quiet. Hours later the supreme and blonde return, finding you asleep in her arms and as Wilhemina glaces at them both she gives them a questioning look and when Cordelia nods, she sighs in relief. As Billie steps forward, she holds your hand, wanting nothing more than to comfort you and for a second your eyes open before she smiles „It‘s over“ she murmurs and you blink a few times before glancing at Cordelia who smiles reassuringly. „It‘s over sweet girl, no one will ever hurt you again“.

Tears brim your eyes, relieved ones as you glance at Wilhemina who simply looks at you with all the love in the world. „Thank you“ you whisper before heavy exhaustion washes over you, knowing now this was finally over. Your eyes feel heavy and you try hard to fight back the sleep but Billie‘s fingers rub soothing circles on your head, encouraging you to rest. And later that night as you find yourself in the steady arms of your girls, you couldn‘t be more relieved and happy that this was over, that Cordelia finally managed to track them down. A group of old witches who held a grudge for years and took this way too far, the supreme and council having successfully dealed with them though and Billie making sure to avenge what they did by using her right hook.

And as long as your girls are by your side, no one was every going to hurt you again. And despite your noble actions for wanting to keep them safe, from now on the four of you would face anything together, always.

[thebiggerbear]

FANFICTION FRIDAYS

Here are my picks for Jan 10th 2025, please go give them a read:

Marks by @bullet-prooflove (Clint Barton x Reader, MCU) Outlander by @zepskies - Dean Winchester has been stripped of his military rank, but he’s living happier with his new wife, trying to adjust to a new life in her tribe. What will it take for her people to accept him, especially when the battle for her heart might not be completely won? (Dean Winchester x OFC, Supernatural) Attention by @lila-lou - Ben is always distant in public—you’ve come to expect it. But at Annie’s birthday party, his detachment stings more than ever. With a little push from Frenchie, though, Ben makes it clear that there’s no one he wants more than you. (Soldier Boy x Reader, The Boys) NSFW Rumor: Joe Velasco by @bullet-prooflove Snowglobe by @kazsrm67 - You find a beautiful snowglobe at a thrift shop after a hunt with your husband and brother-in-law. Once you take it home things around the bunker change drastically. (Dean Winchester x Reader, Supernatural) Happy New Year, Soldier Boy by @kamisobsessed - Annie and Hughie invite you and the other members of 'The Boys' over for a New Years Eve party. You and Soldier Boy don't always get along. When the New Year is about to ring in, you don't have anyone share a New Year's kiss with, but Soldier Boy changes that. (Soldier Boy x Female!Reader, The Boys) Untitled Prompt by @supernaturalfreewill (Dean Winchester x Reader, Supernatural) Miracles Don't Exist by @sheeple - Being the Dark Lord’s daughter and raised under the strict supervision of the Malfoy’s is no easy life. Especially if you start crushing on your father’s arch-nemesis, Harry Potter. And that while being engaged to one of his follower’s sons. (Theodore Nott x Riddle!Reader, Harry Potter x Riddle!Reader, Harry Potter) daemonium armor by @justwhisperingfantasies (Dean Winchester x Reader, Supernatural) Helping Hand by @bensonstablers - Prepared to go home for the night, Velasco finds Olivia still in her office and sticks around to check in with her. (Benlasco, Law & Order: SVU) [AO3 link]

slowly kissing down the body by @chevroletdean (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader, Supernatural)

Dark Necessities by @dimitrescus-bitch (Jamie Moriarty x Reader, Elementary) You Feel Like Home by @im-just-a-mississippi-girl - When a case hits a little to close to home, Joe is there for you and to make sure you feel safe. (Joe Velasco x Female!Reader, Law & Order: SVU) Brownstone by @blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms (Jamie Moriarty & Platonic Reader, Elementary) chopped and screwed by @vivaciousoceans (Benlasco, Law & Order: SVU)

The Great Invasion by @pamwritessometimes - In a world turned upside down, where monsters are the ones who hunt and hunters are the prey, Y/N must choose: follow the new rules to stay alive or join a rogue band of hunters determined to reclaim power and change the game for good. (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader, Supernatural)

Looking for more? Please check out my fic rec lists and writers rec lists (1, 2, 3). I do have some things to update like the Beau stories list, Alec, Russell, Jensen, Soldier Boy, Dean, etc (and I promise I will when I hopefully get more time this month) and I do have some more coming out, like for Law & Order: SVU, LOTR, etc.

In the meantime, if you’d like to peruse even more stories that are on my reading lists, please check out @biggerbearsreads and @tbbrebloglibrary (which will eventually take place of the 1st - tbbrl will be more organized by tags, etc) or you can check out @biggerbearficrecs.

And please don’t forget when you come across any and all creative content on here to reblog:

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[besiegedhunter]

I keep trying to understand why they choose Saluzzo and not any other city, because this place have a literally no connections with mafia and was hardly even important for Roman Empire.

The only thing could be that it kinda was tossed between Italy and France a lot, but I highly doubt that they would connect Gaul and Siracusa through Lappland when there is a fucking PROVENCE.

But wouldn't it be interesting if they did Beast of Gevaudan thing-

So do you have any idea why it's Salluzo?

(Also happy New Year!)

Happy day of new year! And y'know what? I have been wanting to make a Provence post so I may talk a bit about the Beast of Gevaudan and Gaul but on Lappland's name.

So I don't know much about any of these topics and I don't have the confidence to say one thing or another but random bits of information I've heard while researching is like, Saluzzo apparently has things like iron, lead, silver, slate and marble in the mountains around it which, if that's substantial enough I could maybe see with Lappland's colour scheme and having oripathy.

There's also two people mentioned in the wiki for Saluzzo whose bodies of work I don't know but possibly could serve as inspiration. And having looked at other's I remember someone, I don't recall who, but they did fight the mafia iirc and die doing so.

Those are random odds and ends but two other thoughts I've had is one: Piedmont supposedly was influential in the Unification of Italy. The first King of Italy actually was from Piedmont and the Unification declare in Piedmont. There's even something known as Piedmontization which is the modernization and dominance of Piedmont following the Unification.

It's maybe possible they wanted somewhere in Piedmont and Saluzzo just was the place that they chose.

My second idea is one that I actually misunderstood at first. See I'd known her last name was Saluzzo since the CN livestream but when the event came to global I decided I'd watch the Godfather in the hours leading up to the servers opening.

I really thought that Virgil Sollozzo was Virgil Saluzzo and the inspiration for her name. Of course they're different and there's not really much you can connect between the two characters but maybe there is something there?

Like Lappland isn't a narcotics trafficker, we don't even know what the Saluzzo as a mafia do, and sure you could see the intimidation and power that he has as being somewhat reminiscent of Lappland but nothing exactly rings a bell.

But it's feasibly possible that the crucial role Virgil Sollozzo has in making Michael Corleone a ruthless mafioso could be similar to how Lappland desires to bring out the real old Texas that was ruthless. Maybe also in her role in Il Siracusano as a element from outside that comes to the city, inciting chaos and brokering deals that likely wouldn't have happened without her help.

Besides those options I have no idea.

[newgroundstier]

put some fur on that beast intermission: funny silly animals they are going to imitate something they saw on jackass and get injured

[wundrousarts]

Mini Silverborn Countdown

If you’ve been around for a few years, you’ve seen me vaguely mention a “Silverborn Countdown Challenge” several times. It’s been delayed and changed as many times as the book itself, lol.

If anyone wants sort of a low-stakes, very chill and spaced out version of this ye olde never tackled challenge to complete in the next year before Silverborn, I propose what I’m doing:

Every 3 months leading up to the initial release, I am creating one thing based on each of the books.

January — Nevermoor

April — Wundersmith

July — Hollowpox

[carryon-countdown]

❄️COC 2023 Wrap Up🍂

Hello everyone!  

The Carry On Countdown of 2023 has sadly come to an end. We hope that everyone who participated had a wonderful time. The admins sure had a blast feasting on all of the fabulous content from this year's countdown.

We hope everyone will remain inspired to create even more fantastic Carry On related content into the new year.

But before we say goodbye to you all, it’s time to welcome new people onto the Page of Honour!

What you need to do to get your place on the Page of Honour:

You need to have completed all 30 COC 2023 prompts on their set days (If you posted a prompt within a day or so of its set posting date that’s perfectly fine, but, for example, if you posted a prompt for Day 8 on Day 11, that’s a bit too late)

You need to DM @carryonmylovelies ​with an explanation/link of where to find all of the work you posted for this year’s countdown (Can be simply saying what tag everything is under on your blog, or a link to your ao3, etc.)

You’ll also need to let @carryonmylovelies​ know whether you want your blog or another platform where you posted your content (such as ao3 or instagram) linked on the Page of Honour. You can only choose one.

We hope we made this clear, and please remember our ask box is always open for any questions you may have :)

We wish everyone who celebrates a very happy holidays, and we hope everyone will have a terrific 2024.

With lots and lots of love,

The admins of the 2023 Carry On Countdown ❄💘

[lilowoof]

ngl gamers, I think I'm gonna inevitably lose to the hormones and depression in the near future XD

Can't bring myself to be active cause I'm using a lot of energy to not vent post all the time. But fuck it, into the tags I go!

[the-hilda-librarians-wife]

Happy New Year!!

*pops grape juice bottle* woooo we’ve made it, guys!

2023 was such a nice year in the fandom, in my opinion. There was s3 and that was a banger, but I feel like the stuff we were up to ourselves over here was amazing too. I got to talk more with some of my mutuals who I hadn’t been as close to before, and lovely people keep coming to this corner of the internet!! We had our first sketchbook event and are currently preparing for a general Hilda Appreciation Week, I feel like this is all amazing considering the size of this community.

Just wanted to thank everyone who’s been here for the ride as well! It’s certainly always more fun when you have people to be insane with you. I just. Get very touched thinking about the amount of support in this fandom and how we creatively fuel each other.

Anyway, just wanted to write this post as a thank you. I hope you’re having a lovely end of the year, and may 2024 be even better 💜

(I do have one small writing update to add, though! The first months of the year will probably be relatively devoid of new content from me. This for two reasons. One is that I churned out so many fics this year that I feel like even the people who like my writing are having a hard time catching up (I don’t know how this happened either-), and the other is that I’ll be using my free time to get ahead on preparing my content for the rest of the year! I won’t completely stop or anything (Hilda Appreciation Week will see to that), just wanted to leave this noted so no one things I’ve Vanished from the fic writing scene or anything. I’m just preparing my next attack. Anyways that was it happy new year!!)

[helianskies]

ugly maths.

i hate maths, right. i don't usually like numbers, and if i do like numbers it's gotta be an 8 or a 48 and nothing else.

thing is, i've recently caught myself doing maths again. ugly maths. the kind of maths that, really, i've been trying to avoid as much as possible because, well, it's ugly!

you... wanna see?

okay, fine... but don't say i didn't warn you!

ugly, see? look at all those numbers! not a 48 in sight!

huh? what's that? you don't see what i'm on about? oh... oh! hang on, lemme just—

better? yes? no? no? okay, what if i—

mmh, yes. ugly numbers. see it now? can you see why they're ugly?

here, i can make it worse.

these numbers are ugly. the maths they make me do is ugly.

now i'll level with you: the worst ones by far are the yellow numbers. the maths they make me do it the ugliest.

why ugly?

because it makes me ugly.

those numbers turn me into not only a suddenly number-obsessed fool, but a fool who also cannot understand these numbers and what they mean and why i feel like they reflect on me and my ability.

87, 75.

the thoughts are as follows:

• the orange numbers are big, so why are you being ugly about the yellow ones? you should be happy with what you have. so many nice big numbers! not everyone receives that.

• is it that there are two different audiences for these two different fics? perhaps. they are quite different works, with different appeals, and different themes. maybe you are reading too much into it.

• why are you obsessing over numbers anyway? you don't like maths! you left maths behind when you were 16, put it down!

okay, okay, fine! i'll put the maths down. right here, in fact!:

that 87 was an 83 at the start of the year. the 6161 it is attached to was a 5453.

4, 708.

ugly maths.

the 75 is a nice number. in fact, compared to 87, it is beautiful, radiant, enchanting. at the start of the year, 75 was 48. wow. now that is one sexy number!

27.

mmmm.

6161, 1061.

5100.

87, 75.

12.

mmmm.

you know, my most favourite comment left recently on a fic of mine was 2 characters long: :(

it made me :)

well, actually, it made me >:) because it was left in response, presumably, to one of the key scenes in a new chapter which left the exact impression on someone that i hoped it would.

they must be the only one who reacted like that, though.

1.

have i mentioned that that 87 and 75 include author responses?

i won't try to do more maths, there. it might not end well for me. the maths is making me tired enough as it is, and i have an early start tomorrow.

oh! but, that being said, i have another set of ugly numbers to show you, so keep 87 and 75 in mind.

ready?

838, 245.

(want a hint? the green numbers!)

838, 87. 245, 75.

9.6, 3.3.

ugly maths. it's ugly again, see? i don't like it. i'm seeing numbers within numbers within numbers, and i can't seem to stop!

the numbers make me ask new questions:

• why is it not good enough?

• people seem to engage more with one fic over the other, so shouldn't you prioritise?

• is all this maths this really good for you?

no, it isn't.

i want to avoid ugly maths. ugly maths makes me want to tear my hair out. it makes me want to start from scratch. it makes me want to grab someone and scream. it makes me want to cry and press a button that has tempted me many times before when the numbers become too ugly to bear.

ugly maths turn me into an ugly person.

ugly maths make me obsessive, paranoid, anxious, regretful, vindictive, spiteful, alone.

i hate maths. i hate numbers, just like, it feels, the numbers hate me.

[malcriada]

TIME SENSITIVE, PLEASE HELP BILAL

We want to extend our deepest gratitude and thanks to all the people who came out in support of Bilal‘s campaign and shared and donated. 

I‘m really happy to announce that not only have some of the funds raised benefitted his family in Gaza, but it has also helped Bilal find a new place to stay, away from his terrible ex-employer and landlord, and has enabled him to extend his residency for another month. He  is no longer at risk of deportation right now. It’s only thanks to your incredible support that all this was possible.

But despite all these good news, we need your help again. 

There is currently no option to transfer funds from Germany to Gaza, as bank transfers to Gaza are being blocked by the German government. This means Bilal has to first transfer the funds to a bank in another country, and then from there to Gaza. The funds currently take a very long time to reach his family, and require Bilal to pay a high fee for the transfer as well. 

On top of that, his ex-employer and landlord had extorted a large sum (€4800) from Bilal – a sum he claimed he still owed him from the time he was employed under him. With no other source of income at the time, Bilal saw no choice but to pay it using some of the money from the campaign. 

Bilal feels extremely conflicted to be asking for help so soon again after reaching his last goal. But he unfortunately sees no other option due to the aforementioned problems. 

We need your help in fighting the repression from the German government and also making sure that the funds you helped Bilal raise also reach his family in full. 

This is why we need to raise €8,850 by the 15th of September i.e within the next 2 weeks. he currently has raised €101,150 of €110,000

This amount will help make up for the funds that were extorted from him by his landlord and help him pay the fees for multiple international bank transfers.

Please help Bilal reach his goal in time. You have gotten him this far, please don't let him down now. his campaign has been verified and can be found on @/el-shab-hussein’s and @/nabulsi’s list of vetted fundraisers here (#132, line 136) so PLEASE don't hesitate to share and donate.

[ID: a gfm link with a picture of two small children sitting in the sand in front of a cooking pot. they are looking up a the camera, eyes half-closed. the title reads "Donate to Help Evacuate My Family from Gaza to Safety, organized by Bilal salah" End ID] tagging for reach under the cut, please let me know if you'd like to be removed:

@timetravellingkitty @deathlonging @briarhips @dirhwangdaseul @mahoushojoe

@rhubarbspring @schoolhater @pcktknife @transmutationisms @sawasawako

@feluka @birabiroo @irhabiya @commissions4aid-international @wellwaterhysteria

@deepspaceboytoy @post-brahminism @khanger @evillesbianvillain @neechees

@mangocheesecakes @kyra45-helping-others @jezior0 @7bitter @tortiefrancis

@toiletpotato @fromjannah @omegaversereloaded @vague-humanoid @tododeku-or-bust

@aristotels @komsomolka @xinakwans @heritageposts @nibeul

@ot3 @amygdalae @ankle-beez @lonniemachin @dykesbat

@watermotif @stuckinapril @mavigator @lacecap @yugiohz

@socalgal @chilewithcarnage @ghelgheli @sayruq @northgazaupdates2

@vakarians-babe @wayneradiotv @paper-mario-wiki @rthko @decolonize-the-everything

@velvetys @3000s @punkitt-is-here @ghelgheli @feluka

@cruzwalters @yugiohz @akajustmerry @shesnake @tamamita

@opencommunion

[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!!! :)