#But I finally found the colours in the end

[ourfatherwhoartinhell]

Silent Hearts // [Part VI]

Pairing | Cowbell x reader

Word count | 4.2k

⚠️ Warnings | Canon divergence, f!reader, Y/N is used. Brief mention of blood/wound, nothing descriptive.

Chapter Summary: After Felix saves you from meeting your end, he brings you back to his den and you learn a thing or two about the strange ghoul you are now unknowingly connected to.

A/N: Between Ghostober and just mental health being utter shit, I'm so sorry this part is so late. Things will start heating up again in future chapters, so enjoy the little break with this one!

[Prev][Next]

There were so many thoughts running through your head. Almost too many. At some point you didn’t even remember how you got into the woods. You just kept walking aimlessly with no real direction as your imagination ran rampant. 

The only reason your face hadn’t repeatedly kissed the forest floor by now was because of Felix. Even in his conflicted state, he had always been one step ahead. He caught you with ease each time you neglected to step over the branches beneath your feet. It wasn’t until the third instance where he caught your stumbling form that finally brought you back to your senses. 

Looking around, once again able to see through your real eyes instead of wherever your mind had been the last few minutes, you saw almost nothing. Not because your eyes didn’t work, but for the lack of light within the forest Felix was leading you through.

For the most part, the canopy of leaves that sat high above hid the already faint light from the moon, leaving the two of you to walk in almost complete darkness. Realizing you could hardly see, and had no idea where you were going, you made a point to start paying more attention to your steps and hold onto Felix’s arm just a little bit tighter. 

Since it was nearing winter, the leaves had started to change, painting the ground with the colours of autumn. Some of the trees had already begun to show signs of the upcoming dormant months with branches almost completely barren. The few remaining leaves they did have were sparse, casting web-like shadows onto the ground like a living mosaic of moonlight and darkness.

Fitting, you thought.

“What’s fitting?” Felix piped up, looking down as he towered over you much like the trees he was effortlessly maneuvering around.

“Hm?” You questioned. “I didn’t say anything?”

His attention turned back to the makeshift path he was carefully walking along, helping you over a decent sized log before replying.

“You said ‘fitting’. I wanted to know what you were thinking about.”

“Oh... I was just looking at how the light on the ground looks like it’s dancing with the shadows.” You looked down, studying the image on the forest floor. “Kind of like what’s going on in my head right now.”

Felix slowed his walk to imagine it for himself, trying to visualize what you were describing since he couldn’t see it the same way you could. He imagined the scene; the moon illuminating the night sky, casting rays of light through the trees onto the dirt below. Leaves crunching beneath his feet after being discarded from the trees, watching them fall from high above like autumnal snow. He could feel the wind flowing through the shedding branches, causing them to sway and shift the casted shadows below, merging them with the bright silvery glow like a silent, earthly dance.

However, there was still the evilness in his head that imagined a version of himself. Standing there under the soft light with his own shadow staring back at him like its own sentient entity, looming and engulfing everything he found beautiful like a living disease.

Pulling his mind back to the present, he shook his head violently in an attempt to free him of his own thoughts. There was no way he would let his demons anywhere near you. He made that vow the moment he found out how important you were. A vow you would hopefully never have to know about.

You stopped abruptly in your tracks, in turn also bringing Felix to a halt a step ahead of you, feeling the resistance through your grasp on his arm.

“Wait a second, how did you know what I said? I didn’t say that out loud.”

“No, but you thought it.” He said with a slight shrug, acting like it was common knowledge. “Remember earlier, when I told you to crouch and run? I didn’t say that out loud, did I? But you still heard it all the same.”

You thought back to earlier that night. You supposed it was being in the heat of the moment that didn’t make you think twice about it. Your inevitable impending doom was clearly more important.

At the time, it wasn’t important how or why you heard him whispering, but now that you had time to consider, it was completely impossible. He had been standing much too far away for it to ever have been audible. And yet, in spite of that, you had still heard him clear as day. The words rang in your ears like he had been right beside you, as if he was as close as he is now.

“Can all ghouls do that?!” You asked curiously, not bothering to hide the accompanying faint hint of fear that went along with it.

Felix chuckled and shook his head, ultimately knocking a leaf free that had landed in his hair moments before. “No, that’s… something special.”

“So, it’s just a you thing.” You stated.

“Yes and no. All ghouls are capable of it, but certain things have to happen first.” He huffs and takes your hand, once again leading you further into the forest. “It’s complicated.”

You decide to just leave it and follow behind him, making sure to pay extra attention to your feet this time. Maybe you’ll find out later.

After what felt like forever, you reached his… house? Home? Burrow?

“It’s called a den,” he said without a single invitation. It was like he could read your mind now! Or maybe your facial expression was just that obvious. “Ghouls have dens. I know it’s not much… Not really my style either. But it’s the best I could do out here.”

His den was actually quite nice, all things considered. He had hidden it well so it wasn’t super obvious to anyone who might be passing by, unless you were specifically looking for it. Maybe some of the Earth ghouls would’ve noticed, since they’ve got a keen eye for this type of thing, but they never usually venture out this far past the perimeter. 

The exterior of the den was mainly covered with branches and leaves. The longer you looked, the more you realized it was almost like an earthly igloo. It had a rounded shape with an entrance at the front. He had even made little open spaces where branches wrapped around to imitate windows. The doorway was more than big enough to accomodate the average person, but you already knew Felix would have to crouch down to get in without bumping his head.

You wondered if he ever thought about fixing it? Though, if it truly bothered him, you’re sure he would’ve done it by now.

Looking down at your expression of admiration as you took in his living arrangements, he gave your hand a quick squeeze and walked you inside.

“Once I was strong enough, I was able to use a little bit of my element to tidy it up and make it a bit nicer to look at. You should’ve seen it before, you’d think I stole it from the beavers.” He chuckled, letting you enter first.

If you thought the outside was impressive, what he had managed to scrape together on the inside was beyond anything you could have even imagined. The atmosphere was so peaceful, you almost forgot you were still out in the woods and not in some fancy hobbit hole. 

He had some fireflies in jars hanging from the roof, which were softly illuminating the surprisingly spacious interior with a warm glow. You were about to say how cruel it was for him to keep them in there, before realizing that none of the jars had any lids. It was just the glass.

Noticing you looking up and assessing his makeshift lighting situation, Felix’s lip pulled into a small smile. “They’re free to go whenever they like. We’ve gotten to know each other over the years. They seem to come back at night to help me out, even though I don’t really need them. They’ll leave once we fall asleep.”

The rest of his den was neat and tidy. He had a small raised area in the back corner which he must've been using as a bed. He had everything you would expect from a small living space; a desk, a chair, a couch. He even had some blankets and actual pillows sprawled out over his bed. 

You had half a thought to wonder where he had gotten those. Last time you checked, blankets and pillows weren’t naturally occurring forest items. Did he go back and steal them? Did someone bring them for him?

“I don’t know what to say…”

“I know it’s not much, but trust me. It’s a lot safer, and easier for me to look out for you if you stay here.”

“Don’t apologize. I kind of love it actually.” You gave him a smile before shivering. A crisp breeze made its way through the open door, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. However, the chill doesn’t last long before it’s replaced by a warmer breeze, which was definitely out of place for this time of year?

“The spirits are back.” You giggle softly as you feel the air change.

It was Felix’s turn to look at you with a confused glance. “What spirits?”

“You know… the spirits. The ones that always come out during the month of October?”

He just shakes his head and shrugs. Clearly not following, but intrigued nonetheless.

A playful grin works its way along your lips as you roll your eyes, amused at his blatant look of confusion. Taking a few steps further into the den, you sit on the chair in front of his desk before beginning to explain.

“Every year around this time, I always feel the spirits in the graveyard poking through from the other side. I heard some Sisters around the Abbey say that apparently the veil is thinner around October, so that's how they were able to get through. They always stop by to help me out, I think it’s their way of saying thank you?”

“Spirits… coming to say thank you? But they’re dead?” Felix was not buying it in the slightest. “Once you’re dead, your soul either gets set to us, or to the idiots upstairs.”

“Hush. Just let me imagine it, okay?” You chuckled, sending him a playful glare.

While you spoke, Felix had quietly taken a seat on the couch opposite from where you were sitting. The more he listened to you passionately ramble, the more things started to make sense. He couldn’t help the smirk that crept onto his face as he lounged back, tapping his fingers over the arm of the couch in amusement.

“If it wasn’t the spirits, then how come sometimes the flowers I left never wilted? That would be impossible after 2 weeks of being cut! Or… or how they stayed exactly where I left them after that bad storm last year?!”

You just sat with your arms crossed, waiting for your explanation. Unconsciously mirroring the ghoul in front of you, tapping your own fingers in the same pattern against your bicep.

“That's easily explained.”

“Oh, really?” You raised a brow.

“Yeah.” He flashed his signature grin, the one that entranced you from the first night you met. “It was me.”

“I know I haven’t known you for that long, but taking credit for others' work seems a bit too shallow for you. I’m not buying it.”

Knowing there really were no words to explain, he simply decided to show you. 

Holding out his palm, he skillfully grew a perfectly healthy, peach tulip. Exactly like the ones in the last batch you left. He made a point of making it wilt and bringing life back into it once again right in front of your eyes.

While you were focused on the flower, a gust of air came out of nowhere, surrounding the both of you inside the den. Your hair went wild as it got picked up in winds so strong you could’ve swore you were in the middle of a tornado. Quickly you shifted your gaze from the flower to look at Felix in a panic, thinking you were in actual danger. 

Without thinking, you were immediately brought back to your childhood. You knew how the story went, and right now you definitely were not the lucky little piggy in the house made of bricks. 

However, when you met his gaze, his expression was eerily calm. Even the cloud that sat around his eyes was steady and unbothered by the sudden gusts of wind. Felix simply held out the blush coloured flower that rested in the palm of his hand.

You must've looked at him like he was crazy because he simply chuckled and gestured for you to pay attention.

When you finally brought yourself to look, you immediately expected the flower to be blown away given the situation. 

Yet it stayed. 

Not even a petal, or a leaf on the stem moved an inch in the whirlwind that had taken over the space between the two of you.

After he was satisfied, the wind died down as quickly as it appeared. Instead it was now making the flower float in mid-air like it was being dangled on a string. The entire thing appeared to be as light as a falling feather, dancing in front of your eyes before eventually landing on your lap with a graceful softness.

“I hope the wind didn’t bring you a chill.” Felix said, his voice soft as to not startle you, clearly lost in a place of unimaginable wonder.

You didn’t know what to think. You sat there completely speechless after witnessing whatever act of god was just blessed upon you. You knew ghouls had powers of sorts, but this was something else. Something magical.

When you finally met Felix’s gaze, you gave him a smile. “No. That was amazing! H-How did you-”

“All those times you thought it was the spirits messing with you out there? That was me. While my element is mostly Air, I do have some Earth tricks up my sleeve. Though Mountain would beat me on every front in that regard.”

Felix looked to his feet as he remembered the last few years. When he saw you shiver as the nights grew colder, he would silently scold you for not bringing a coat before warming the breeze. When he sensed a storm coming, he would run out and protect the flowers you had just left, returning them to their original state before you even knew they were missing. All to avoid hearing your sighs of disappointment.

Yet, his fondest memory was when he got brave last year and arranged the stems to spell out, ‘Hi’. He would remember your little gasp and the way your face lit up for the rest of time. It was his way of looking out for you without having to meet face to face. Once he realized he could use your imagination to cover up the suspiciousness of it all, under the guise of Halloween, the ideas were endless.

“So, you’re a multi?” You asked in disbelief. You had heard about Copia summoning multi’s, apparently they were a lot of work and quite a handful.

“Of sorts.” Felix gave a genuine smile. “My Earth element isn’t really strong enough to be what the Ministry considers to be a true multi. Simply being an Air ghoul suits me just fine.”

As you sat there processing, he spoke up once more. 

“I tried to warn you, didn’t you realize? When you came to check on me.” He spoke softly, not wanting you to think he was upset. He was just curious.

You tried to think back to what he meant. A lot had happened between then and now but you didn’t recall anything out of the ordinary. “No?”

“The wind was cold and sharp, wasn’t it? It mustn’t have been pleasant to walk through.” He explained, trying to jog your memory. 

Actually, now that you thought about it. When you went to see Felix after your meeting with Mountain, you remembered noting the weather was rather unpleasant.

“That was because of you?”

He nodded. “I was hoping you would turn back, so you didn’t end up literally walking into this mess.”

“Was that why you were so angry too?” You asked softly. “You were trying to protect me?”

He sighed in defeat. “I did a pretty bang-up job of that, didn’t I? It ended up happening anyway.” Felix stood and ran a hand anxiously through his dark locks before his ears twitched, clearly hearing something outside.

“What is it?”

His pointed ear twitched once more but he didn’t seem overly concerned about what he heard this time. “No one to be afraid of.” He grinned as he walked over and held out his hand, offering to help you stand.

Once you had taken up the space at his side, you subconsciously positioned yourself to be able to easily slip behind him. You didn’t know who he was expecting, and you weren’t about to take any chances after you had already had a run in with death today. Leaving Felix as your best chance of survival if that situation arose again.

You nervously awaited whoever, or whatever, was supposed to be coming through the door. Though, neither one of you had to wait too long before you could hear the rustling of leaves as the sound of bootsteps approached. 

Moments later, a familiar face walked into the den. You weren’t sure who was more shocked to see the other, you or him.

“Y/N?”

“Mr. Miller?”

“I just came to check in on Bell to see if everything went alright.” The Ministry’s groundskeeper looked at you in shock. “I didn’t expect to find you here.”

“You know Felix?”

“Who’s Felix?” The older gentleman looked at you clearly confused.

I guess Felix hadn’t told him yet. Oops.

You looked at Felix with an apologetic smile but his expression didn’t look overly bothered in the slightest. “Don’t worry about it. Would’ve happened eventually.” Felix turned his gaze from you to give Mr. Miller a quick smile. “Felix is just my real name, Thomas.”

“Ah, I see.” The groundskeeper nodded in acknowledgement.

There was a short silence while the three of you stood in what was considered to be Felix’s living room, before the older man spoke up to break the silence.

“Y/N, did you get hurt?” He questioned, pointing at the side of my jeans which was sporting a rather large bloodstain. 

You had forgotten about the little slip you had earlier when Felix had ran you off. In the midst of the adrenaline, your talk with the chained ghoul in the catacombs, and eventually being kidnapped– could you even call it kidnapping if you went semi-voluntarily? You had completely ignored the minor scrape on the side of your thigh in lieu of more important things.

If you could’ve seen Felix’s full expression, you were sure he looked utterly horrified. He was mentally beating himself up for not smelling the dried blood or noticing you favouring your right leg before now.

Mr. Miller slowly approached and took in what he could, assessing the damage.

“I slipped when I was running down the hill earlier, I must've scraped it on something.” You explained. With the adrenaline quickly wearing off, and your attention brought back to the injury, you were starting to feel the sting.

“I should be able to fix this up the human way, since your boyfriend here is far from being a quintessence ghoul.” Thomas chuckled, already starting to look around for what he was going to need.

“Oh! No, he’s not my-” 

“She’s not my-”

The groundskeeper halted his search and turned to the pair of you with the most amused expression, much like a proud father witnessing his son bringing home a girl for the first time.

Before you could let the awkwardness get any worse, you quickly interjected. “I didn’t know you knew about ghouls, sir. I’ve never heard you speak of them.”

“I didn’t, not at first.” Mr. Miller replied, continuing his search for medicinal ingredients. “Not until I caught this one stealing my chickens.” He jokingly scolded, giving Felix a look over his shoulder.

The ghoul couldn’t even bring himself to argue, knowing it was completely true. It wasn’t one of his proudest moments. But at the very least, it led to his first healthy human friendship. 

The Ministry’s groundskeeper had helped Felix more than the ghoul cared to admit. Especially while he was recovering and getting used to his new life outside the Abbey. And in return, Felix provided protection for both Mr. Miller and his small batch of crops. Even helping his harvest endure an unexpected early frost, making sure the human could have food for the upcoming winter months.

Thomas would have survived that year just fine with what he had left over from the previous lot, but he would never stop Felix from lending a hand. He had taught him better than that, after all.

The two had created a unique, yet mutually beneficial arrangement.

After Mr. Miller had gathered all the ingredients he had needed from around the den, he laid them out on the table beside a wooden bowl, combining who knows what together to make a paste. Felix tried to look disinterested, standing with his arms crossed. But you could see how he looked over the human’s shoulder every five seconds, silently judging what he was putting together.

“Are you sure you want to add that? I don’t think those go together-”

“Son, why don’t you go for a walk while I finish this?” Thomas offered with a forced smile, ceasing his stirring and glancing at the very large, anxious ghoul lurking over his shoulder. “She’s in good hands. It's the same mixture I used on you a couple years ago, I promise.”

Felix looked a little offended at first to be honest, but looked over to get your opinion on the gentlemans suggestion. If you didn’t want him to leave, then even the devil himself couldn’t force him to go.

However he just found you nodding in agreement, followed by a soft, tired smile. “It’s been a stressful day already, Felix. Why don’t you get some air? I’m sure once you’re back, Mr. Miller will be all finished patching me up and you can finally get some sleep.”

It wasn’t his favourite plan, but he reluctantly accepted and sauntered through the entrance of his den into the forest waiting outside.

As soon as you thought Felix was out of earshot, you finally let your exhaustion show. Letting out a breath and slumping further into the chair. It had been a long day for both of you. But unlike Felix, who was a ghoul, humans could only take so much.

The groundskeeper was working on finishing up adding the last ingredients to the healing paste, catching you folding in on yourself out of the corner of his eye but saying nothing. There really wasn’t anything he could say about the matter, since he still didn’t know why you were here. 

As he turned to face you, he dipped his finger into the pale green concoction to test the consistency, wiping a small amount on his forearm before giving a satisfied nod.

“He’s talked about you for years, you know.” He spoke, trying to lighten the mood and get your mind off whatever was bothering you.

“He has?”

“Sweetheart, you’ve had him wrapped around your finger long before you even knew he existed. And naturally, I had to hear all about it.” Thomas chuckled lightly.

The two of you fell into a comfortable and quiet conversation as he carefully looked after your wound, somehow finding a moment of peace inside the surprisingly warm den.

Outside, Felix was about to have a conversation of his own. Although he didn’t expect this one to be quite so amiable.

Moments after he had left the den, there was an unmistakable rustling of leaves and crackling branches that filled his sensitive ears. With his senses on high alert to make sure they weren’t trying to come for you again, he could smell the intruder from miles away.

Realizing who it was, he made a plan and walked with a false sense of obliviousness to a clearing nearby. He didn’t want to wander too far and leave you unprotected, but he couldn’t lead the ghoul to you. 

Thomas was with you, sure, but how well could he protect you against someone like him? Those were odds he would never even consider gambling with. And if anyone on this godforsaken Earth was likely to bet on improbable odds, it was Felix.

Once the ground became more plush under his boots, he knew he had made it where he needed to go. If anything was to happen, he was going to make damn sure it happened right here. On his terms.

Leaning with his back against one of the forest's robust trees, he listened carefully to make sure that his tail had followed like he had planned. 

Felix smirked contently as he heard those familiar clumsy footsteps drawing closer. Aside from his scent, he was completely hidden from the approaching creature. Waiting for just the right moment to reveal himself.

“Well, well, well.” Felix eventually spoke up. “Long time no see… cousin.”

[Next]

...

Taglist: @cyra-aa@plethora-of-imagines@pandasleepy07

[damadorias]

I gave Zigzag a pet chicken lmao

[barawrah]

beloved

[hydrodragons]

genshin impact gif challenge ✦

[1/?] archon quests → interlude chapter, act iii: inversion of genesis

“do you think there are any differences between your present self and your previous and future incarnations? if not, then what are the differences between humans and puppets? whoever has tasted the joys and sorrows of life in the human realm is human. whoever has loved and lost, cried with grief, howled with rage at the tragedy of death that eclipses the miracle of life... they are human too."

[daandori]

about to absolutely nuke my hair with anti-brass products

[literalite]

@prematurehag never apologise for rambling in my tags 🫡 and to sorta answer it didnt come up when we were discussing how the "ending" scene of violent affairs would look like we were thinking more closed loop cycle of blood in the water in the early hours of a frigid morning but as i was actually taking the shot and editing i did remember this which was soooo late for someone whos top ten movies of all time includes moonlight 😭 and I SEE IT actually the rare acceptance found in each other in their youth then the forced separation due to other outside circumstances then finding each other again in adulthood they werent intentional but they r there 🤯

[lily-blue-blue-lily]

that thing about shrimps seeing extra colours except its levels of tiredness instead of colours and im a shrimp. that doesnt make sense. ive unlocked new levels of tiredness that no humans have known before. thats my point. you know?

[eveningdreams8]

(Miniature) couch restoration

I found this couch ( with a bunch of other things I didn't care about) for 2$ at a second hand store

Finding dollhouse miniatures is kind of rare around here so I grabbed it, I thought at worst it would be a cheap MDF off of AliExpress or something and I could repaint it, but once I scraped a bit of the paint off I was pleasantly surprised to find a nice wood finish!

There was at least 3 to 4 layers of paint through (⁠‘⁠◉⁠⌓⁠◉⁠’⁠) (white, gray, maybe white again and finally pink)

Out of curiosity I pried up the fabric which was obviously not the original, to find another unoriginal fabric and pried that up too and that was still not the original 🤣 matroshka doll of upholstery

After huffing 99% alcohol and paint brush cleaner for probably 5 or so hours I ended up with this

I left the back and seat of the couch rough as it would be covered in fabric anyway, it looks like that maybe at some point this got sanded in a few spots? I fixed it up by finally using my furniture repair markers as intended (mostly I don't think they had mini furniture in mind)

You can see on the left half where I tried different colours to see what would match best

Now new upholstery! I only had the original couch cushion seat so I decided to just redo the whole thing in silk of corse (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

I wanted it to look a little worn so I picked this really textured blueish green/cream dupini silk

From barbie would be embarrassed to have this in her house to Victorian centerpiece! Or well I would like to think so ;;;

[bruhstories]

sweet like honey ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚

summary: logan ended up spending his evenings in the bar across the street from your bakery, watching you do your job. he never approached you, never talked to you, but he always kept an eye on you, until he has a bad feeling. pairing: logan x fem!reader warning & content: swearing, violence, reader almost gets assaulted (but logan saves the day), she/her pronouns for reader, wade being wade, unprotected p in v, fluff, angst, lots of baking and mentions of food, slightly ooc logan (if you squint), slow burn, sex in a bakery wc: 6k

a/n: i don't always write, but when i do, it's a fucking thesis. unedited.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

Logan was never a fan of sweets. He hated chocolate, cheesecake, gummy bears — literally anything sweet. The only thing he could barely stomach was tiramisu, and only because it had coffee in it. Other than that, he steered away from sweets like they were the fucking plague.

Yet despite all that, he found himself enjoying the smell of freshly baked croissants, custard donuts, brownies, and whatever goods you baked in your little bakery, conveniently situated across the street from his go-to bar.

Cleverly named Flour Power, it was all pastel both inside and out, with little pots of hyacinths hanging from its window and a big sign above the entrance. Not that Logan ever went there, but he always walked past it when he went for a drink. Flour Power stood out from all the shops with its baby blue windowsills and bubblegum pink door. As much as he disliked vibrant colours, his eyes were always drawn to the bakery. But not because of how it looked or the way it smelled.

No, Logan strategically sat down by the window in the bar to see you. Every evening, he watched you sell everything you had on display, from wedding cakes to éclairs, greetings customers with a warm smile on your face. He watched you turn the sign from open to closed, lock the door, clean the display shelves, the counters, the only two tables and four chairs inside, and sweep and mop the floors. Then you disappeared in the back for a while, perhaps doing the dishes or preparing dough and frosting, before you walked out, locked the door again, pulled down the blinds over the big window on the right side of the door, and left.

It became a ritual for Logan to watch you. In a way, it brought him some peace, despite him never speaking to you. To him, you were innocence personified, the type of girl who made others feel better simply by being there, and he didn't want to disturb that peace.

Tonight was an ordinary night for the 200 year old mutant. He swirled the whiskey in his glass, drank it all, then went to the bar to ask for another round, killing time until you closed the bakery, then he could finally go back to the apartment. You closed at 7 for clients and left at 8:30 every evening except for Sundays, when you didn't work. Logan knew your schedule a little to well, even knew you opened for clients at 8 in the morning, but you were there much earlier, because he could smell the pastries at around half 6. This time, however, you seemed to have a bit more work. It was past 9, it was dark, and you still hadn't left, and Logan was slightly concerned.

He watched you like a hawk, how you tucked rebellious strands of hair behind your ear when you mopped the floor, how you wiped your hands on your cute little apron after you finished scrubbing the countertops. Logan thought you had extra orders from customers, perhaps a wedding cake. He scrunched his nose at the thought of having to try so many flavours only to pick a damn cake that he probably wouldn't enjoy anyway.

But finally, you were done.

It was almost 10 when you locked the door to the bakery, double checking to make sure it wouldn't budge. Then the blinds and off you went. Logan was satisfied to see you go, but the hairs on his back suddenly stood up, his nostrils filled with the scent of danger. Bitter, sour, it went straight to his brain, and so he finished his drink and left the bar, following you down the street but keeping a safe distance.

You walked past a group of drunk men, gripping your tote bag with your left hand and your keys with your right one. You've learned to place the keys between your fingers, like claws, in case someone attacked you. Going home at that time wasn't something you enjoyed, and you always tried to avoid working late, but sometimes that was inevitable. When you heard footsteps approaching you, you picked up the pace, but paranoia kicked in, and you didn't want whoever was following you to find out where you lived, and so you took a detour.

Logan was like your shadow, going everywhere you went, until he heard something drop in a dimly lit alleyway and he sped up, finding you round a corner, pinned to a wall by a man while another guy had his hand up your dress. It was too dark to see, but Logan didn't need eyes to know that was you. He could smell the vanilla extract and icing sugar and fear.

"Take my wallet!" You told the men, but they weren't there for the money. They wanted something else from you.

"Nah, doll, I'll take something else from you. Somethin' more precious than money." One of the men said, his breath reeking of alcohol, the cheap kind.

"Hurry up and fuck her, bro, I need my turn-"

Something flashed, then a shadow lunged at the second guy who couldn't even finish his sentence before he was struck down.

"Mike?" The man who pinned you against the wall asked, his hands trembling on your body. "Stop fucking around."

But Mike was seeing stars somewhere on the alleyway. It happened so quickly you couldn't understand what was going on. When your eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, you saw him, rough, handsome and very, very angry.

"Who the fuck are you?" The man asked, but all he got in response was a guttural growl. "Hey, man, I don't want any trouble. My girlfriend and I were just talking. Stay out of it." He grabbed you by the neck, dragging you away from Logan.

You seized the opportunity and wrestled out of his grasp by biting your assaulter's hand, dashing behind a bin.

"Ow! Fucking bitch!" He lunged at you, but Logan was quicker, piercing his claws through his shoulder and holding him in place.

"That's no way to talk to a lady." The mutant snarled, and you watched how his claws retracted before he punched the man in the face, effectively knocking him down.

He was the Wolverine. You had seen it all over the news, how he saved your universe, how he came from a different world. You couldn't believe he was the one helping you when you thought no one would save you in that moment.

"You alright, kid?" His raspy voice startled you and you barely nodded, still too shocked to move or speak. "You sure?"

You shook your head and tears rolled down your cheeks as you finally started to process what just happened. Logan scrunched his nose — comforting someone wasn't his strongest skill — and instead he picked up your bag and keys from the pavement.

"Shit, um, don't cry." He handed you your belongings, and you looked up at him with a frown.

How could you not cry when you saw your entire life flashing before your eyes? Logan swallowed a lump in his throat and offered his hand to help you stand up. You looked at his hand, reluctant to grab it. The only thing he could compare you with was a cat — cautious, yet curious.

"No claws." He said when he understood the meaning behind your eyes. "Come, I'll- um, I'll walk you home."

The invitation had you perk up and gain courage, and you quietly took the bag from his hand. He walked with you in complete silence, until you stopped in front of a building. You lingered, unwilling to go in. Logan asked if that was your place, and after you nodded, he offered to take you all the way to your apartment, which made you feel relieved. He could see it on your face when you sighed. You guided him up the stairs, constantly looking behind you to make sure he was there.

You stopped in front of a tall wooden door, keys in hand.

"Go on. I'll wait until you lock the door." Logan encouraged you.

"Can you stay?" You finally spoke, and your voice was sweet like honey, fitting for a baker.

"I don't know, kid-"

"Please." You looked at him with glossy eyes, pupils blown from the fear that hadn't left your body yet. The fear he could still smell.

"Yeah. Okay, I'll stay."

"Thank you."

Logan followed you in, and you flipped the light switch on before locking the door behind him. He looked around and, just as he expected, the apartment was a direct reflection of your bakery — clean, colourful and calm. There were recipes stuck to the walls with pink pins, and between them little paintings of sunsets, skies, flowers, cats. All things cute. They weren't framed, and so Logan figured they were hand-made, his assumptions confirmed by the easel in the corner of your living room.

Of course your sofa had to be colourful, too — mustard yellow with sage green cushions and blankets. Even your curtains were sage green. Despite the explosion of colours, Logan found himself enjoying being there. Not everything had to be brown, black and grey, he thought. Probably the only vibrant thing in his life was his suit, since the only people that brought colour were his friends, and they were gone.

"Drink?" You cracked the walls he put up around his heart with that sweet voice.

You shook a bottle of gin to get his attention and he nodded. Logan wasn't a fan of gin, but he didn't expect you to have any hard liquors. He watched you pull out two blue glasses from the kitchen cabinet, and of course they had to be funky, with white flowers on them.

"Where'd you get these?" He asked, swirling the drink in his hand.

"I made them. Kind of." You said. "Bought them from a charity store and painted the flowers. Do you want some tonic water?"

"Fuck no." Logan choked on his gin when you asked him that question. Simply being in a place so... colourful was enough. He didn't need a girly drink.

"I'm Y/N, by the way."

"I'm-"

"The Wolverine!" You cut him off a little too eager.

"-Logan. Call me Logan." He cringed when the beverage tickled his taste buds. It wasn't bitter enough for him.

"Logan. Thanks for tonight. Is there any way I can repay you?"

The question was riddled with innocence, but he couldn't stop the degenerate thoughts that popped in his mind when you asked him that. You were just so pure that he wanted to both protect you and ruin you.

"Don't mention it. I couldn't just walk past without doing anything." Logan lied, because, really, he wasn't just walking by, was he? No, it was downright stalking.

"I could bake something for you." You offered and he shook his head.

"I don't like sweets, kid."

"What?" You were baffled. "Everybody likes something sweet."

"Not me." He shrugged. "All I like is tiramisu and only if those biscuits are doused in coffee."

"Ladyfingers." You corrected him with a chuckle. "They're called ladyfingers."

"Bullshit."

"I'm serious! Here!" You rushed to your pantry and pulled out a whole box of them, showing Logan the name.

"That's just stupid." He shook his head. "Who calls them ladyfingers?"

"Uh, everyone?" You laughed at his surprise, and the thoughts of your bad evening slowly dissipated, like a bad dream.

Logan truly was clueless about baking, but spent hours listening to you talk about types of sugar, extracts and their uses, and the difference between baking soda and baking powder in cooking. You rambled on and on and not once did he get bored. He could listen to you talk for hours with your voice soothing. Logan thought about it, and he genuinely never met someone like you before. The women in his life were all so different, but you took the cake. You were special in ways he couldn't understand. And he was just so drawn to you.

"I'm sorry, I haven't stopped talking once!" You apologised, realising how safe you felt with him there. You would never let a stranger inside your house, let alone talk about baking while having gin. But Logan wasn't a stranger. Not after he saved you.

"'s alright. It's not every day I learn about baking." He chuckled, finishing his drink. "Listen, I should get going."

"Right." You sighed, eyes darting at the floor. "No, of course. I've kept you too long."

Logan got up and you walked with him to the hallway. He was slow to put his leather jacket on, as if he was waiting for you to say something, anything, but when you didn't, he unlocked the door and opened it.

"Hey, Logan?" You tugged at his sleeve, whispering so you wouldn't wake your neighbours. "Are you sure I can't bake you something? Not now, I mean. I really want you to try something besides tiramisu. And that way I can repay you."

"Hell, why not?" He shrugged.

"Great!" You beamed at him like a child on Christmas day. "Stop by my bakery tomorrow at twelve. It's on Granville Street."

"I thought you didn't work on Sundays."

"Oh, how'd you know?" You quirked a brow at him.

Caught red-handed.

"Educated guess."

"Fair enough." His answer satisfied you. "Be there or be square!"

Sleep was for the weak. All night, Logan tossed and turned and abused his poor pillow with with punches. The mere thought of seeing you, no, interacting with you, had him wriggle like a worm on the mattress. It didn't help that Wade instantly noticed something was up.

"Oh, my, did you shower, peanut?"

"Not today, Satan." Logan poured himself a cup of coffee.

"Mmm, and what do I smell?" Wade sniffed the air. "Wait, is that my perfume?"

"Forgot to pack mine when I swapped universes." The Wolverine barked back.

"Hah!" Blind Al chimed in from the living room. "I think tall, dark and handsome here has a date!"

Logan rolled his eyes while Wade pouted, plopping on the sofa next to Al.

"You never called me that."

"That's cause you’re a degenerate." The woman snorted.

"Takes one to know one, doesn't it- ow! Stop hitting me with your cane, I know where you hide your nose candy!" Wade fought back.

"Touch it and I'll bust a cap in your ass!" Al scoffed.

"And I'll regenerate."

Logan used the opportunity to slip into the hallway, but his roommate was quicker, and blocked the door.

"You're not going anywhere until we have the talk."

"The talk?" The Wolverine snorted.

"Ah, they grow up so fast." Wade told Al. "Now, son, when a man and a woman love each other-"

"I'll give you three seconds to fuck off."

"Oh, but I need to know everything! Who is he?"

"She." Logan rolled his eyes.

"Oh my god, is this you coming out to us? Al, he's straight! I promise we love you anyway." Wade went for a hug and all Logan could do was accept it. He learned to live with Wade, even though he dislocated his jaw a few times after he moved in.

"Alright, that's enough."

"Nooo, we're just getting started. Name? Age? Occupation? We could do a double date with Vanessa-"

"Absolutely fucking not." Logan pushed Wade off of him.

"Okay, okay. Just make sure you wrap your willy, and if you need any advice, daddy's here." Wade opened the door for his roommate.

"Actually." Logan lingered in the hallway. "What kind of flowers do girls like?"

The blinds to the bakery were closed but you were inside, pastries in the oven and dessert in the fridge. You couldn't help yourself and prepared something savoury as well, in case he didn't like the lemon cake. A knock on the door startled you, and you rushed to check who it was.

Logan stood there, a bouquet of peonies in his hand. You welcomed him in with a smile, but he could tell it was different than the one you flashed your customers. It seemed more genuine. And it felt like a date.

"These are for you." Logan handed you the flowers, taking in the scent of pork pies. "I thought you were gonna bake something sweet." He flared his nostrils.

"I did, I just thought I should have a plan B in case you didn't like my cake." You placed the bouquet in a vase on one of your tables. "How did you know I liked peonies?"

Logan couldn't believe Wade was right about those damn flowers. And there he was, thinking roses would be better. Maybe the Merc with a Mouth wasn't so bad after all.

"I had a hunch." He shrugged. 

"Well, Logan, I love them! Now sit, sit!" You ushered him to his seat. "I hope you're hungry, because there's a lot for you to try."

"A lot? I thought you'll make me a cupcake or somethin', bub."

"A cupcake?? Don't be silly." Just as you said that, the oven made a loud ding sound, and you turned on your heels, heading in the back.

Logan waited patiently, observing every little detail from the front of your bakery, from the spotless display shelves to the neatly organised paper bags, to the fairy lights around the window. It was obvious to him that you had put your mind, body and soul into this bakery, and his expectations were quite high after all the fuss you made. But he decided to be nice not matter how the food tasted. He couldn't bear seeing you upset if he didn't like what you made.

You reappeared with a tray in your hand, and on it two plates, one with a small pork pie, one with a croissant, and a cup of coffee. Hell, even the cutlery was cute, with swirls engraved on the handles of the fork, knife and teaspoon.

"I decided to leave the cake for last." You said, placing the tray in front of him. "This is a simple pork pie, start with that." You urged him. "Careful, it's hot."

The Wolverine struggled with the cutlery, too small for his large hands, and the brief thought of slashing the pie with his claws crossed his mind, but he decided to be civil. You watched him butcher the food, eager to see his reaction, but he was taking his time.

"I'll let it cool off a bit."

"Ooh, that's probably a good idea." You nodded.

"Aren't you having some?" Logan asked.

"Noo, no. I like to bake for others, not for myself."

"So what do you eat, then?" He sipped on the coffee.

"Instant noodles usually. I'm too tired to cook when I get home. I do occasionally have leftovers, but whatever isn't sold I take it to the local shelter." You explained.

Christ, you couldn't be any kinder. Logan was stunned by your beauty and your soul, which was why he decided that after today, he will stop any interaction with you. He couldn't ruin you, not with his lifestyle, not with the danger that followed him everywhere.

The only problem was that the conversation flowed naturally, and he felt safe with you, just as you did with him. Like you were the missing piece to his puzzle. Logan pushed away those thoughts and decided to try the food. He took a large mouthful of the pie, chewed and swallowed, and you waited expectantly.

"Shit."

"What? Is it bad?" You jumped from your seat.

"Fuck, this is the best pork pie I've ever had." Logan wiped his mouth with a tissue you provided. "I'm serious, kid. Did you put drugs in it?"

You laughed, shaking your head as he finished the rest of the pie. He truly seemed to enjoy it, and you felt so satisfied. But the real test came after.

"Pistachio croissant." You said. "I thought about making almond ones, but I figured pistachio wasn't that sweet."

"Right, let's see." Logan took a healthy bite out of the pastry, and lo and behold, he closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair. If heaven had a taste, it would be that damned croissant.

"Is it good?"

"Good? Jesus, this is the best one yet." He finished the rest of it, the pistachio cream tickling his taste buds in all the right ways. "Who taught you to bake like this?"

"My grandma. She was the best cook I knew." You smiled.

Logan noticed your use of past tense, and he didn't want to bring up any bad memories. He wasn't the nosy type, but something possessed him to ask you about your life, your family, your favourite colours. He needed to know more about you, and you answered all his questions, opening up to him like a flower in bloom. But when it came to him talking about himself, Logan was reluctant.

Talking to Wade was easier, because Wade didn't take anything seriously, nor did he ask personal questions. Well, he did, but in his own stupid way that provided Logan some distraction, as well as a reason to punch him. But with you it was different. He felt like he owed you serious answers that he wasn't yet ready to tell a stranger who made a mean pistachio croissant.

"The cake!" You spun on the chair, changing the subject when you saw Logan dodging your questions like bullets.

Although he didn't say it, he was grateful that you didn't put any pressure on him to talk. He wasn't a talker. That was definitely Wade. You came back with the whole cake, and it looked so good that Logan didn't want you to cut it. Perfectly round, a layer of cream in the middle and white frosting on top. You even went so far as to decorate it with all kinds of yellow flower petals and what seemed to be mint leaves.

"Alright, hit me. What's this one called?"

"I call it the Mojito Cake. The sponge cake has lemon zest, the cream is made of lime, mint and rum syrup, and the frosting is buttercream with a dash of actual rum." You explained.

"Shit, I can't tell if that sounds disgusting or incredible."

"Only one way to find out." You cut him a thick slice, and Logan wasted no time trying it.

"I think you found yourself a new customer."

"You're too nice."

"I'm anything but nice, kid." He took three more spoonfuls. "But I ain't a liar. This is delicious." Logan spoke with his mouth full and it made you chuckle.

"Oh, there's a bit of frosting on your face."

"Hm?" He used the tissue to wipe his chin. "Did I get it?"

"No, it's still- here, I'll get it." You leaned forward and delicately ghosted your thumb over the corner of his mouth, eyes locked with his.

Without thinking about it, you dragged your tongue over the frosting, and Logan couldn't look away from you even if he wanted to. A gesture so innocent, but it destroyed any form of restraint. He pressed his lips onto yours, tasting the rum and the cream, but before you could kiss him back, he pulled away.

"Sorry. Sorry, I shouldn't have-"

You gave him no time to finish his sentence when you placed your hands on his shoulders and kissed him with fire on your tongue. God, he hated being touched, but when you did it, he melted in your hands. Lust battled reason and prevailed, and you found yourself straddling Logan's lap, arms around his neck and chest pressed against his.

His large hands found their way under your dress, fingers digging in the plush of your thighs until a moan escaped past your lips. Logan could've sworn you were pure in all ways — a virgin — so, naturally, he was surprised to see you eager to jump his adamantium bones.

With the last shred of reason left in you, you glanced at the door and window to make sure they were covered, and pushed Logan's jacket off his shoulders, peppering his neck with soft kisses. He wasn't the gentle type, no matter how hard he tried, and he didn't need to be when he felt your hips grind in his lap. It was more than obvious that you wanted him then and there.

Logan lifted you up as if you weighed nothing and slammed you down the empty table. His roughness sent a chill down your spine, because you really wanted him to manhandle you from the moment he stepped foot in your bakery. He kissed you again, pressing his whole against yours until your back hit the table. You felt like a cornered animal with nowhere to go, and the thrill of it turned you on.

"Are you sure you want this?" Logan asked despite you unbuckling his belt.

"I don't want this, I want you. I need you to fuck me so hard I can't walk." You unzipped his jeans, and although he was taken aback by your sudden use of filthy words, he couldn't deny he enjoyed seeing that side of you.

"Greedy little girl." Logan's hand slithered between your legs, fingers rubbing circles over your clothed clit. "Shit, you're soakin' wet. Can feel it through your fuckin' panties already." He flared his nostrils, taking in the scent of your arousal.

With his jeans loose around his waist, you palmed his cock through his boxers, and it didn't shock you for a second that he was rock hard. What did shock you, however, was the size of it. It was probably the biggest you've ever taken, and you didn't want any other man anymore.

You tugged at the waistband of his boxers, making it clear that you didn't want to waste any more time. Not that you didn't want to suck his dick or explore every inch of his body and worship it the way a man like him deserved it, but you were impatient.

Logan got the hint when you whined and scoffed, and he tore the pink panties off of you, tossing them on the floor. At least he had the decency not to put them on the table, which you were going to disinfect anyway. He pushed his boxers down, and you propped yourself on your elbows to look at him, and it was a sight for sore eyes indeed. He had perfectly sculpted abs, you could see them under the half-lifted t-shirt, but it was his cock that made your mouth water.

"Like what you see?" Logan was smug, confident in his good looks.

"I need to permanently imprint this image on my retina." You told him, and he couldn't help the chuckle.

"Likewise. Now spread 'em."

"Yessir!" You very quickly obeyed, parting your legs for him, and Logan couldn't deny that he enjoyed being in control.

He wasn't one to take orders, nor give them, but watching you comply scratched an itch he couldn't get rid of. Logan pressed the tip of his cock against your slick folds, earning another whine from you. You bucked your hips, craving more, and he scoffed.

"That desperate, hm?"

"You have no idea." You dug your manicured fingernails into his shoulders, bracing for temporary pain, because you knew damn well it would hurt.

"I don't know, I didn't hear you say please." Logan frowned, and you understood what game he was playing. A game you yearned to be part of.

"Oh, please, please, please fuck me, Logan! I'll be so good for you! I'll do anything you want." You clung to his shoulders, bringing yourself closer to him. "I'll even take it in any hole you want." You whispered, dragging your tongue over his lips.

"Shit." Logan was weak in the knees from your words, and the worst part was that he believed everything you said. But there was a time and place for everything.

You were the perfect mix of sweet and spicy, and you begged so nicely that the Wolverine just couldn't say no. You felt the leaking tip of his cock push past your folds and you audibly gasped at the size of it, drawing blood from his skin with your fingernails.

"It won't fit-" You whined with lust in your voice.

"I'll make it fit." Logan promised, painstakingly slowly thrusting into you.

He gave you time to adjust to his girth, constantly checking if you were alright, if you wanted him to carry on or stop, and while you loved that he was so caring, you needed him hurry up and fuck you.

To assure him that you would survive his monstrous cock, you planted a soft kiss on his nose, and there it was again, the change in your personality, from sultry to innocent. It was as though you embodied everything he ever wanted, and his desire to never contact you again went down the drain. How could Logan ever leave someone like you?

"I'm ready." You nodded, and he pressed his forehead onto yours, slowly rolling his hips.

You weren't ready, because it hurt like a bitch when he stretched out your velvety walls. But the pain was soon replaced by pleasure, and Logan picked up the pace when your whimpers turned to moans, and the slight frown on your face disappeared.

"So tight." He hummed, forehead resting against yours.

Were you tight, or was he just so incredibly big? Either way, you were a panting mess already, clinging to him for dear life, and Logan forgot his worries, even if it was just for that one moment. You were too good to be true, with your parted lips and glossy eyes — a beautiful sight for his sore eyes.

"Fuck, I- fuck!" You wrapped your legs around his waist, the table screeching under you. Not a single coherent sentence could come out of your mouth. "Logan, shit, I-"

"What's the matter? Need something?" He cooed, fingers bruising into your hips. "Use your big girl words."

"Need it ha-harder!" You cried out but he slowed down, confusion written all over your face.

"Where are your manners?"

"Please, daddy, please give it to me harder!"

The term of endearment had Logan quirk a brow at you, but he wasn't surprised in the slightest that you had a daddy kink. And he basked in being called that.

"Are you sure you can take it?"

"Yes!" There was no hesitation in your response. "Fuck, yes!"

Logan growled when he felt your pussy clench around his cock, and he delivered, thrusting deeper, harder and faster into you, until the sound of skin on skin echoed in the bakery, and your breathing became heavier.

"Fuuuuck, I can feel it in my gut!" You threw your head back when the tip of his cock brushed against your cervix.

"Filthy. Little. Slut." Each word came with a thrust and a groan, and he filled you up so good, you became addicted to him.

Your toes curled up, and your legs began to twitch when you felt your orgasm build up. Each push and pull made your vision blurry, and Logan's grip on you tightened as his hips stuttered. He was feral, and he was close, you could feel it in your bones.

"Fuck, Logan, do- oh- don't stop!" Words spilled from your mouth incoherently, and after a few more thrusts, pure bliss rushed through your body.

"That's it, let go." Logan buried his face in the crook of your neck, slamming hard into you until all you could do was chant his name like a prayer.

You felt him fill you up, pussy hot and sticky and sore, and he slowly pulled out, eyes darting at the tissues on the table. He grabbed them, gently cleaning you up, and you couldn’t stop the grin on your face. There was just something about a man like him be so gentle. And you were absolutely delighted to have him take care of you.

"You know," Logan said licking his lips, "I'm beginning to think you didn't want me to just taste your pastries."

"True." You told him smugly. "But you liked them."

"I like you more." He blurted out without thinking.

You felt your cheeks burn at his sudden honesty, and after sliding up your underwear and fixing your dress, you planted a soft kiss on his cheek.

"I like you too, honey badger."

"Don't ever call me that again." Logan chuckled.

"Not happening. Now, could you pleaaaase help me clean up this place? The last thing I need is a surprise hygiene inspection tomorrow."

He couldn't even imagine what the inspectors would do if they found out you had sex in a bakery, and with a nod, Logan zipped up his jeans and began disinfecting the tables and chairs while you swept the floor.

In less than half an hour you were done, and the shop was squeaky clean. You were satisfied with the end result, and told Logan that you wanted him to have the rest of the cake, pies and croissants. He thought Wade and Al could eat something, and decided to accept your offer.

"Can I come with you? There's quite a few boxes of food." You told him, a sheepish grin on your lips.

"Is that your way of finding out where I live?"

"Maybe. I'll go home if you don't want me with you."

"No, you're good." Logan assured you. "Besides, I'm sure my roommate's gonna devour everything. He'll probably lock you up in our apartment and force you to bake for him."

"I don't know if that's a threat or a promise." You laughed.

"Both. It's both."

You walked with Logan down the street, boxes in your arms, and you were surprised to see him open up to you more. He answered almost every question you had, and you felt him more relaxed. And he was. Logan forgot how much he needed that kind of connection with someone. You were so easy to talk to, you didn't judge him, and most importantly, you listened.

He guided you up the stairs to his apartment and knocked on the door, because he couldn't reach his keys with so many boxes in his arms. You baked for a damn army.

Wade opened the door, and you were taken aback by his appearance, but it didn't scare you. Instead, you introduced yourself as Logan's personal baker, earning a chuckle from him.

"Come on in, Martha Stewart." Wade opened the door enough for you to walk through it with the boxes and not drop them.

"Wade." Logan came back from the kitchen with a croissant. "Eat. Seriously, eat."

You watched Wade wolf down the pastry without hesitation and his eyes lit up. He chewed and swallowed, then moaned, eyes rolling back. The look of disgust on Logan's face was priceless.

"Holy fucking shit, Y/N, what the fuck did you put in this?" Wade grabbed your shoulders, giving them a good shake. "It's so flaky and creamy and buttery, like a bunch of unicorns came in my mouth."

"I'm glad you like it." You giggled. "Try the cake."

"There's cake?!" He ran to the kitchen, leaving you and Logan in the hallway before coming back, a slice of half-eaten cake in his hand. "I am officially impressed. Can you make Rocky Road?"

"Yes."

"Dulce de leche?"

"Yep."

"Baklava?"

"Uh-huh."

"Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte?"

"Yes, Wade!" You rolled your eyes, then turned to Logan. "Sugar rush?"

"Oh, you have no idea. And this is him on a good day."

"Listen, sweet cheeks, if old man fuckface here won’t marry you, I will. Just don’t tell Vanessa." Wade whispered.

"Don’t even think about it, you degenerate limp dick."

"Ugh, fine. And here I was hoping all four of us could be a happy dysfunctional family. Five if you count Al. Six with Colossus. Wait, actually, eight with-"

"Wade, have you tried the pork pies?" You asked, effectively shutting him up.

Yeah, Logan could definitely get used to being around you from now on to sweeten up his life.

[flamingpudding]

Little Snippets #4

Danny knew he had screwed up and that he was going to be in so much trouble as he flew hurriedly through the streets of Gotham.

"Old man is going to be so pissed...." he muttered as he zigzagged through the buildings. He had just gotten back from a side mission with Clockwork when he learned that one of their villains had gotten their hands on portal technology. Not his parents mind you, no one could read their chicken scratch besides Danny or Jazz. No but Vlad's, who was supposed to be a redeemed man but apparently some of his inventions still managed to get onto the black market.

Danny hat been in the Ghost Zone when they had that found out and the old man pinged him to get back sooner. And oh boy was Danny in for a portal mess when he got back to Gotham. He instantly went out to help the old man. Batman was out on his own and Danny had been trying to give him support when he got tangled up and ended up thrown through a portal.

Yeah, he knew his the old man would give him a good lecture, like the day he had gotten taken under the other mans wing. So now after Danny finally made his way back to Gotham he flew through the streets in search of the old man, it looked like the portal problem had resolved while he was trying to find his way back but still Danny had a weird feeling about Gotham now.

"OLD MAN!" He yelled as he spied Batman on top of a building. Grinning brightly he came to an stop directly in front of the other waving happily. "Sorry it took so long but I am back and in one piece! No injuries! See!"

Danny grinned brightly despite not getting an instant answer or lecture back. Though he paused when he noticed the kid in colourful clothing and others like one with a red face covering helmet, one themed in blue and one in black and red. "Did you get help from others? And I thought you didn't like kid playing hero?"

He tilted his head confused as he studied Batman before his eyes widened. "Hey, since when is your insignia not red...?"

It was in that moment that Danny realized he messed up big time somehow and slipped up as he uttered his next words. "You're not old man Thomas...?"

[lavandulawrites]

Hello! I found your writings about yan!Dottore & I am a brand new fan!! You are such an awesome writer 😁

Since requests are open, I was wondering if you could write some headcanons/drabbles about how the Genshin men (including Dottore my fave) would react if their darling, who was pregnant with their child, tried to run away? Saying "I refuse to raise my child with a monster like you!"

Yandere Genshin Men With a Pregnant Runaway Darling

Yandere Ayato, Dottore, Lyney, Neuvillette, Wriothesley x female reader (separate)

Thank you!<3 I only wrote for five of them, but I’m thinking of writing for more of them in some other parts:) (Let me know if anyone wanna be apart of my taglist).

Masterlist

Warnings: imprisonment, manipulation

Word count: 2819

Ayato

You ran and ran as fast as your feet could carry you. You needed to get to safety. Both for yourself and for your unborn child. Your bare feet were drumming over the wooden floors.

The Kamisato estate was like maze. The long hallways seemed never ending.

When you finally reached the door that led out to one of the gardens, you were filled with relief. You slid the door open and was welcomed by the heavenly sea breeze. Your joy, was however short lived.

Standing in the garden admiring the purple sunset was Ayato. He turned around and smiled gently. He motioned for you to join him and before you knew it, your feet had brought you by his side.

“The sky is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?” his eyes turned upward towards the endless sky.

You followed his gaze. The sky was in fact extremely beautiful. The purple colour the same shade as Ayato’s eyes.

The man besides you was cunning and as cruel as a snake, but he was undoubtedly the most beautiful man you had ever laid your eyes on. His dark lashes fluttered as his gaze shifted to you. He remained silent for a while, just taking in the sight of you. He often did just that and it made you nervous, since you could never be completely sure as to what exactly ran through his brilliant mind.

“I’m glad you fell for my little trap. If you hadn’t, I would have to enjoy this sunset all alone. Sunsets are best enjoyed by the side of someone you love, wouldn’t you agree?” his melodic voice coiled around your mind. Enveloping you in a sense of serenity.

You quickly snapped out of it. “I want to leave” your voice low, but your words clear as day.

Ayato hummed at your words “Why is that?”

“Because I’m more like a prisoner than your wife” you snapped.

“A prisoner? What gave you that idea?” he raised a brow.

“Don’t play stupid Ayato” you sneered. “You’re not letting me leave no matter what. Doesn’t that sound awfully a lot like a prison to you?”

“I’m protecting you and at the same time I’m keeping what’s mine far away from prying eyes. I’m doing you a favour” his smirk completely gone and replaced by a cold glare.

“I refuse to raise my child with a monster like you!” you screamed, not caring about who could hear you.

“Don’t think I’ll ever let you leave me. When you said yes to my proposal, you sealed your faith. It’s not my fault you were unable to think about what the future involved” he smirked at your scared expression. “Don’t cry, I mean you no harm. That much should be obvious.”

Dottore

The dining room was decorated in an attempt at making it cozy. The grand chandelier that hung over the dining table casted a warm light over the table, almost making it homely. The plate in front of you was barely touched. You were hungry, but you didn’t have the time to finish your meal.

You glanced up at the butler who was standing by the door. His eyes was glued to a spot on the far wall and his posture was rigid.

Your cleaned your mouth with the napkin before your rose from your seat. “I’m finished with my meal. Please tell Dottore when he returns to come to my chambers” you told the maid as she silently cleaned up the dishes.

She bowed “Yes madam.”

Your heels clicked against the polished wooden floors. You had to quickly change into different shows and more practical clothing.

You quickly opened the bedroom door and hurried to your huge closet that was the size of a small room. You changed into some thick trousers and warm boots with white fox fur.

You quickly pulled in your coat and a scarf. You opened the large windows and you peered down. You pulled on your hood and your mittens before you ventured down the ladder you had found in an abandoned closet in a part of the house that was rarely ever used.

The ladder creaked underneath your weight and you prayed that it would mange to hold you. Both of you.

You landed into the soft snow and you quickly ran down towards the gates.

The tall wrought iron gates were impossible to climb, especially if one was pregnant, but you had luckily borrowed the key from one of the butlers.

You twisted the key and the gates opens with a load groan. You could smell your freedom.

You locked the gate behind you before you walked down the hill that the house stood tall and proud on top.

The snow glittered in the moonlight and green-purple aurora danced over your head. The sight was so beautiful you almost wept.

As you wandered down the hill you got completely lost in the beauty of the winter landscape. You knew it was foolish, but you hadn’t been outside in so long.

The sound of hoofs snapped you out of your daydreaming. As you raised your gaze you were met with the sight of your husband’s beloved steel grey stallion. The stallion snorted hot air towards you. It looked like a beast at it stood tall in the moonlight.

On top of the proud animal was Dottore. His gaze sharp and would cause anyone who was on the receiving end of it to tremble. You were no different.

“What are you doing out here in the cold?” his voice colder than the cold winter wind that ruffled your hair.

At your silence he only sighed. “You are truly a lost cause. Are you seriously going to cause your unborn child harm in order to escape? You are even more foolish than what I thought” he scoffed as he made the horse circle you.

You spun around in order to keep an eye on his movements. “What makes you think I want to stay with you? Your arrogance disgusts me!” you sneered. “I refuse to raise my child with a monster like you!” your voice echoed through the treetops that surrounded the hill.

“Watch your tongue” he spat.

Your escape attempt had been a complete failure.

Dottore had reprimanded you for hours when you had been brought back inside.

You fiddled with your hands in your lap, not wanting to meet his eyes.

“If I ever catch you trying to escape ever again, there’s going to be dire consequences. You’re not going to accidentally harm my child. Our child. Do I make myself clear?” his tone stern.

Your eyes fixated on his neatly polished shoes. You nodded and muttered a low “yes”.

He gripped your jaw and forced your head up. “If you disobey me I will have to chain you to the bed and I really want to avoid that. So be a good girl.”

Lyney

The purple cat-like eyes of the magician was narrowed in anger and hurt. He had just caught you as you had sneaked out of the house with bag packed with your clothes and necessities.

The living room was empty except from the two of you. His younger brother and sister were out on business.

The record player in the corner by the fireplace was playing the soft tune of a ballet he had taken you to when you first started dating.

Lyney was sitting in front of you on a red arm chair. He was resting his head on his arms. His gaze faced down as he thought on what to say to you.

The only thing that separated the two of you was the coffee table. Normally you would have taken you your time to clean it, but not today. Multiple cards were littered across it accompanied with some face flowers. The mess was surprisingly beautiful.

“I don’t understand how you could do something like that to me” his voice low. “I had it all sorted out. I have talked to Father and she has nothing against your pregnancy and our relationship. In fact she supports it. She knows how important family is after all.”

“But you had to try and ruin it. I really don’t understand” his violet eyes met yours. They were filled with more emotions than what you could possibly make out.

“Lynette and Freminet even said they can take care of the baby if the two of us have plans or need some time for ourselves. Yes, Freminet is still a teenager, but he’s still fit to look after a child. He often take care of the younger children in The House. And Lynette has always had a soft spot for baby’s” his voice was getting louder.

“You don’t get it do you, Lyney?”

“Get what exactly?” his eyes scanned your features for something.

“You’re a cruel man. You have locked my away just because you think it’s for the best. You haven’t even bothered to even ask me what I want!” your voice was getting louder and louder by each word that left your lips. “I refuse to raise my child with a monster like you!” you stood up form the couch. Your finger pointed at him. “You disgust me.”

His mouth fell open in disbelief. Crystal tears welled up in his eyes and he furiously tried to blink them away. “What?” his voice was weak by hurt. “I’m trying to protect you! Why don’t you understand?” tears were now falling from his eyes as he had fallen to his knees in front of you.

It was a pity full sight, but he couldn’t care less. “Family is what matter the most to me! And you! You are a part of my family now and so is our unborn child!”

You tried to step back, but his hand was tightly gripping your thigh.

A broken laughter escaped from his lips and a rose to his feet slowly. His eyes crazed as they met yours. “You’re clearly unfit for making your own decisions, but worry not. I will help you. And together we’re going to raise the sweetest little child one could ever dream of.”

His unhinged voice and manner sent chives down your spine and you could feel the imaginary cage that wrapped itself around you. You were trapped between the claws of the beast-like cat, with no escape.

Neuvillette

The entire nation of Fontaine were searching for you. You would be lying if you said you were surprised. The judge could be awfully convincing when he wanted to.

Since your escape it had been raining non stop. Heavy rain poured down from the sky undisturbed. The rocks on the forgotten path you had chosen were slippery, and you had to be careful.

In the distance, from the town you had a pasted hours prior, you could hear the loud voices of the search party they had organised. Hounds barked as they made their way up the mountain. You quickly picked up your pace.

After an hour or so walking through the rain you finally found a small abandoned cottage. You were filled with relief when you noticed that the door was unlocked.

It smelled of mould and you felt bad for your unborn, but you had no other choice. The windows were dirty, but intact. You slumped down on the old couch. Your body was aching and you were so tired.

You did not know how much time had passed when you awoke to the sound of a fist pounding the creaky old front door. You rose to your feet with such fast motion that you knocked your elbow against the wooden armrest of the couch. You hissed in pain and clutched it as you made your way to the hallway.

You hid behind the door to the bathroom as you peered out the window by the door. You couldn’t see anyone.

The pounding continued and you were afraid whoever it was would break down the door if this continued.

“Who is it?” you meekly asked.

The pounding came to an halt and a gruff voice answered you. “I am from the neighbouring village. We are looking for the Iudex’s wife.”

You were about to answer when the door broke down. A tall and sturdy man with a bear that reached below his collarbones entered. “I apologise miss, but I need to search the cotta-” his voice trailed off when his eyes fell upon you. His eyes widened to a state you were afraid they would roll out. He backed away slightly and shouted over his shoulder “I found her!”

You were about to silence him but it was too late.

The man who found you brought you out to the little courtyard. Your eyes widened in fear when a pair of pale lavender eyes stared back at you.

“Wha-what are you doing here?” your voice was shaky with fear. You tried to back away from the tall dragon, but the search party blocked your path of escape.

“How could I not personally participate in the search of my own wife?” Neuvillette’s voice soft. He turned to the villagers “Please give us some space.”

The villagers nodded and quickly left.

As you stood all alone with your capture on the overgrown courtyard you couldn’t help, but think about all the choices you had made that had lead you to this.

“Why did you leave our home?” his deep voice had normally brought you comfort, but now it only brought you fear.

“Why? Any sane person would escape a madman such as yourself. You have taken everything from me and you still ask for more” you spoke with sudden braveness.

“I am not taking anything from you. You’re clearly not completely aware at the moment. But worry not, I’ll take care of everything. Just like I always have” his lips twisted up into a gentle smile.

“Oh really? I don’t believe you. I refuse to raise my child with a monster like you! Why don’t you understand?!” you were suddenly in front of him. Your finger jammed against his broad chest.

“Your words hold little meaning, my love. It’s my child too, do not forget. I have every right to be apart of its life just as you do. And besides in a matter of time you will have forgotten your… conflicted feelings” his big hand gently wrapped itself around your much smaller one. “I will make you happy. Just you wait” he gently kissed the top of your head. His kiss similar to the gavel he used to seal the fate of the poor souls in the Opera Epiclese.

Wriothesley

The Fortress of Meropide never got any more welcoming, no matter how much time you had been there.

You had tried to climb the stairs up to the surface, but Wriothesley had been quick to drag you back down again.

He had been eerily silent as he led you to his private quarters.

“This is your fourth escape attempt this two weeks. Are you not getting tired?” he sighed. He was leaning against the kitchen table, his arms folded over his muscular chest.

“I understand the Fortress is not the best place to raise a kid, but I have bought a house close to the entrance on the surface. I have made the arrangements so that we can rotate where we both stay. I will of course always stay with you in the house. I know it’s not optimal, but it’s the best I can do.”

“It’s not enough” you muttered.

“We will have to make it work.”

“Why? I didn’t ask to be sent here. I don’t care about you and the Iudex agreement. I didn’t agree to any of this” you raised your voice.

“There’s many thing in life that I haven’t asked for. You will manage” Wriothesley’s voice was laced with uncharacteristic anger.

“I will not! I refuse to raise my child with a monster like you!” your loud voice echoed inside the kitchen.

At your words something in Wriothesley snapped. “A monster you say?” he barked out a laughter. “I have been nothing but kind to you. But if you think that makes me a monster, I wonder what you’ll think of me now” his eyes colder than his vision.

Wriothesley dragged you inside your bedroom. “You’re not going to leave this room before I say you can. I will use the spare bedroom” he pointed to the bathroom. “If you’re thirsty between meals, you know where to find water.” With that he slammed the door closed. The sound of his key twisting sent a pang through your chest.

Escape had never seemed so far out of reach as it was now. You found yourself longing for the outside and the smell of the wildflowers that littered the green meadows of Fontaine. Maybe the house Wriothesley had promised you on the surface didn’t sound so bad after all.

[benevolentbones]

Hi ✨️✨️

Emily's sister likes Reid and flirts with him a lot before asking him out and he's all shy.

your type | spencer reid x prentiss!reader

warnings: none really, alcohol consumption, flirting

word count: 1.7k

a/n: hi!! hope you enjoy nervous spencer :) love him. reblogs and comments appreciated <3

half team were sitting around the office, finishing off the last of their paperwork for the night, it was a friday night and a certain member of the team was growing bored of filing away the never ending pile of reports. hotch, jj and gideon had already left for the night, leaving the rest of the team to finish off the workload.

emily leaned back in her desk chair, her red long sleeve shirt complimenting her complexion as she tucked her dark locks behind her ears.

“it’s friday night- we should go out and do something fun. lets go to a bar.” emily spoke, interrupting the sound of keyboards clacking and paper shuffling.

“i agree, let’s get out of here.” derek grinned, standing up from his seated position to have a well deserved stretch, his shoulder making a popping sound as he did so.

“reid, you in?”

spencer adjusted his posture at the sound of his name, his head turning towards his colleagues.

“i don’t know guys- i kind of wanted to read ‘the history of torture’ by george riley scott.” he responded, scratching the back of his head.

“the history of torture? on a friday night?” derek shot spencer a confused expression.

“just a bit of light reading.” spencer shrugged.

“nope, i want you guys to meet my sister, she’s a bartender at this new place down the road. it’ll be fun.” emily stood up, grabbing her bag that sat under her desk.

“but-“

“you can read tomorrow, right now it’s time for you to socialise. morgan text garcia, let’s go.”

spencer found himself sitting in the backseat of emily’s car as she drove downtown, derek sat in the front. penelope had replied saying she would meet everyone there.

“i don’t see why the child locks were necessary.” spencer mumbled, pulling on the inside door handle.

“shh. we’re almost here.” emily pulled up next to bar, there was a group of people standing outside cigarettes resting between their index and middle fingers. clouds of smoke plumed into the night sky, through the hazy air a neon sign read ‘the wine seller’.

emily unlocked the car, stepping out and strutting her way to the entrance, derek and spencer following close behind. in the midst of all the smoke stood garcia, her blonde hair tied in space buns with a blue polkadot dress adorning her form.

“are we ready to party!” she exclaimed, clearly she had already had a drink or two.

everyone stumbled into the bar, immediately a wave of noise washed over them. i’m the centre of it all, people were dancing on each other flashing lights casting rays of colour over their sweaty bodies.

“is your sister cute?” derek questioned emily over the loud music.

she rolled her eyes in response. “you could say that.”

“what’s her type?” he grinned, scanning the bar.

“oh you’ll see.” emily chuckled.

spencer rolled his shoulders nervously, trailing behind emily who was making a b line for the bar. she called out to a girl who was facing the shelves full of liquor.

“y/n!”

you whipped your head around to see where the voice had come from, a grin immediately forming when you saw your older sister stood at the bar.

“emily! finally made it out of the office i see.” you chuckled, grabbing a bottle of vodka from the shelf and pouring it into a shot glass for the man that stood at the bar. he nodded as a thank you and made his way back to the dance floor.

“it’s busy in here wow.” emily muttered, eyes scanning the room as she rested her hands on the bar counter.

“mhm i sure know how to bring in a crowd, what can i get for you and… you lot?” you peered around at the three people behind you. penelope rushed to emily’s side giving you a big smile.

“oh right, this is penelope, derek and spencer, from the bau.” you gave everyone a small smile, your eyes lingering on the taller hazel eyed man who stood awkwardly behind emily.

“i’ll take a pink gin and lemonade.” she shouted over the music, you nodded with a smile and reached for the gin.

derek strolled over to the counter, eyeing you as you picked up a gin glass.

“i’ll just have a whiskey.” he shot you a grin which you returned.

“make that two.” emily added, rooting in her bag for her wallet.

you made the drinks and laid them out along the counter for the team to take.

“and for the cutie in the back?” your voice travelled to spencer who seemed caught off guard by your comment.

“uh- me? uh i’ll have i uh- vodka soda.” he stuttered out, heat rising to his face.

“whatever you want sweetheart.” you shot him a wink and began to make his drink.

emily turned her focus to derek who was sipping at his drink.

“i see why you wanted to bring reid here so bad.” he laughed, and then dragged garcia to the dance floor.

“y/n what time do you get off, will you have a drink with us?” emily asked, taking a gulp of her drink immediately feeling the alcohol’s warmth spread through her body.

“twenty minutes em, then i’m all yours.”

“come find me later!” your older sister yelled out, disappearing into a crowd of warm bodies.

you served up spencer’s drink, passing it to him. he tucked his hair behind his ear before reaching for his wallet to pay.

“don’t worry, it’s on me.” you shot him a charming smile which he returned.

“t-thanks y/n.” he reached for the drink, taking a small sip, before taking a seat at the bar. you raised your eyebrow slightly in surprise, not expecting him to take a seat.

you could tell he was very much out of his element, that everyone had just come from the office. he wore a white striped button up shirt paired with a pair of suit trousers, his tie hung loose around his neck. his big eyes wandered around the room before falling back on you, you had already moved on to making cocktails for a bridal party to his left.

spencer studied your form, your quick movements and ability to multitask in such a busy environment impressed him. you wore a tight black tank top along with a black miniskirt the ended just above your mid thigh, and a small black apron was tied around your waist.

he couldn’t help but stare at your figure as you rushed around the bar, your form fitting clothing showing off every curve to your body, in all honestly he was infatuated.

finally the rush had died down and you were making your way back to your side of the bar to polish more glasses, you noticed spencer’s intense gaze on you and smiled to yourself.

“you like what you see, dr.reid?” you questioned, poking fun.

he immediately pulled his fixed look from your body and up to your eyes.

“i- uh sorry.” he nervously sipped at his drink, feeling embarrassed.

“don’t be, you’re pretty cute yourself.” you shot him a small wink and he felt his face flush.

“so spencer, how are you liking working at the bau?” you quizzed, carrying a stack of glasses to the shelf behind you.

“uh- it’s good, i like that i can help people.” he muttered out a vague answer, which he followed with a question.

“a-and do you like being a bartender?”

you shrugged, wandering back to stand in front of spencer.

“it’s just a part time job, i’m studying criminal psychology right now in college, im in my third year.” this got his attention, he straightened his posture, taking another sip of his drink.

“oh really? that’s so interesting- what do you plan on doing after?” he seemed less anxious now.

“i’m not really sure, might do a masters- it was emily’s suggestion.” you let out a small laugh, spencer longed to hear you laugh more.

“i take it this isn’t really your vibe?” you stated, looking around the bar at people making out and dancing, spencer followed your stare. emily and penelope were in the middle of the dance floor cheering derek on who had now taken his shirt off and was swinging it above his head.

“uh- no not really, i didn’t really plan on coming here tonight, but prentiss- your sister, she kind of child locked me in her car.” he mumbled out, an awkward laugh leaving his mouth.

you pinched your eyebrows, shaking your head and letting out a joking sigh. “she’s trying to set me up.”

“set you up?” he repeated what you had said.

your face warmed as you began to speak, “i broke up with my ex over a year ago and was recently complaining about how i can never meet any decent guys at the bar, because- i mean look.” you gestured to a corner where a group of frat bros were downing their beers.

“and em said she knew someone who would be great for me.” you eyes landing back on spencer.

“you mean me?” he pointed to himself, still somewhat confused.

you nodded. “i mean she managed to guess my type exactly, can’t blame her there.” you now gestured to spencer, his face burning a dark crimson, and it wasn’t the alcohol’s fault.

“i mean i hope you’re single- and i’m not just aimlessly flirting with a taken man. that would be a little embarrassing..” you trailed off, rubbing the nape of your neck, your tank top lifted slightly revealing your midriff.

“i- i yeah i’m single.” spencer couldn’t quite grasp the fact you were flirting with him, on purpose. he honestly thought someone like you would either be in a relationship or have a line of much more attractive men just waiting to take you out.

you smiled at his flustered state, you thought he was adorable.

“well then, dr.reid, would you like to go on a date with me sometime? maybe a café or the park, somewhere not as chaotic as this?” you questioned, you were pretty confident in yourself, which was something that ran in your family.

“yeah…i would like that, a lot.” he smiled at you, you quickly jotted down your number on a piece of paper, passing it to spencer.

your eyes flickered to the watch on your wrist, a smile spreading across your face.

“time for me to clock out, darlin. i’ll be right back.” and with that you skipped off into the back of the bar to grab your things, your heart beating twice as quick.

taglist!! @0108s22m @rainoftearss @potatovoyager @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @luvmia222 @shardsofmarxx @silver138 @lover-of-books-and-tea @thedancingnerdmermaid

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Nobody Important

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> When you first meet Logan you tell him you’re nobody important. But it soon becomes clear you are a lot more important than you say. 

Disclaimer: Contains descriptions of nightmares, couple of swear words, being drugged (nothing bad, just some chamomile tea). Mostly fluff moments with a hint of angst. I watched X-Men and wanted to write something for him. Reader has powers though they're not specified fully. Not Proof Read.

When Charles told Logan someone was going to pick him up from the airport, the last person he expected was, well, you. 

Compared to the pristine and fancy cars that were held at the school garage, you pulled up in a beat up old station wagon that looked like it had seen more than a couple of scratches in its time. And you weren’t dressed…like the rest of them. 

Rather than in some kind of pant-suit combo, you were wearing a long sleeve t-shirt, jeans, boots and a heavy brown leather overcoat. 

“Hey, sorry I’m late. Hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.” You began immediately as you stepped out onto the curb and rushed towards him. “I was at the back of the forest collecting some berries and lost track of time. Shall we get going?”

Logan looked you over. You seemed a lot more…energetic than he was. 

“Who are you?”

“Professor X sent me. To collect you. You are Logan, aren’t you?”

“That depends. Who are you?”

“Your ride to the school, unless you plan on walking for two hours in the freezing cold.”

Logan grunted and threw his bag into the backseat. You still hadn’t answered his question but the licence plate of your car matched that of the one Charles had told him to look out for. 

However, fifteen minutes into the drive, Logan asked once more. “Who are you?”

You smiled and looked at him for a moment before moving your gaze back to the road ahead. “Nobody important.”

“Okay, fine. What are you?”

You smiled again. “Nothing you need to be concerned about.”

“Alright, listen bub-”

“Logan, whatever information about me you think you’re gonna have me tell you; it’s not gonna happen. I work with Charles and that’s all you need to know.”

Logan furrowed his brows. “So you’re a telepath? Like him?”

“You don’t need to concern yourself with what or even who I am. But,” you reached down and pulled a file from the driver's side door before turning it over on the steering wheel and handed it over to him. “You should concern yourself about this.”

Logan took it, a little confused, and opened it up. 

“He wants you to know what you’re walking into when we get back.”

After that, the rest of the drive was silent save for one question from Logan, only to have you reply with; 

“All the answers you’re looking for are either in there or are with the Professor.”

He didn’t bother asking you another question after that. Not that you would have answered it anyway. 

Once you finally did pull up to the school, it seemed you were beside him one minute and went the next into some unknown corner of the school because he didn’t see you after that. 

But he still had questions. 

Unanswered questions. 

Like who the hell were you? 

A week later, he still didn’t have his answers. But he did run into you again. 

In the kitchens. 

The entire place was a lot messier than the communal kitchen. It looked like some mix between a witches cottage and a mess hall in a school cafeteria. But it didn't smell as bad. 

Instead it smelt of cinnamon, oranges, rosemary and cookies. 

And somehow

It was relaxing to him. 

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Logan looked up to find you standing at the other end of the kitchen, a bowl under one arm and a spoon in the other. Flour was dusted across your face and your hands were splotched with food colouring stains. Which matched the batch of rainbow coloured cookies behind you. 

“Err, no. I was just-”

“Here, sit. I’ll make you some tea.”

“I don’t really drink..tea.” 

Logan was still taking in the room. Every time he looked back to a spot, he found a new detail to it. Extra herbs, or ingredients, or even flowers. 

You smiled, placing down the bowl and spoon before moving across the kitchen to the simmering pot on the stove. 

“Here, try this.”

“Oh, I, uh-”

“Just drink it.” You sighed a little, with a light smile. Nobody would have to meet Logan to know he wasn’t a tea drinker. But he was also polite enough to accept a drink. 

And he did. 

“Is this where you work?”

You nodded, going back to the fresh batch of cookies you needed to start scooping out. 

“Do you usually work this late past midnight?”

You chuckled a little to yourself. “Sometimes. Mostly it’s because I think of a new recipe and want to try it out when no-one's gonna disturb me.”

“Am I disturbing you?”

“No. Plus, I heard you coming down the stairs. Figured it wouldn’t be long before you found another night owl.”

Logan grunted with a soft chuckle. “I don’t think it’s intentional being a night owl.”

You shrugged. “We all have our reasons.”

Logan nodded and took another gulp of his tea. If he thought he felt relaxed when he walked into the kitchen, he didn’t have a word for what he was feeling after the tea. 

“Hey, what’s in this tea?”

“Not much. Chamomile mostly.”

Logan nodded. But then something shifted. He was getting drowsy. Not relaxed. Not sleepy. Drowsy. 

“Hey, what did you put in this?”

Logan went to stand and repeat his question, but he was out like a light before he could finish. 

Logan, for the first time…ever, woke up slowly. From the light that came flooding in through his window, to slowly turning over and feeling the bones in his body crack just right to allow his joints to feel at ease, to not thinking a thing as his brain slowly turned back into gear. 

Then he jerked up. 

With a grunt, he looked around him. 

He was in his room. 

The last thing he could remember was your tea and the kitchen. 

Flinging the covers from him, he tore his way out of his room and down the hallways until he finally reached his destination. 

The Professor’s office. 

Walking inside, he found the situation entirely too calm. 

“Ah, good morning Logan. Glad to see you’re finally awake.”

“What the hell happened?” 

“You fell asleep. Y/n helped put you to bed before you collapsed on her kitchen floor.”

Logan turned at that moment to find you sat on the sofa by the window inside the office. 

“You.” Logan practically snarled. “You did something. What did you do?”

Logan approached you but where anyone else would have flinched, you didn’t. In fact, all you did was sit back further and smile up at him. 

“She didn’t do anything, Logan. You needed to sleep.”

Logan turned and looked at the Professor. “Don’t mean I have to be drugged.”

Then you stood. “It was just a little tea, Logan. The more exhausted you are, the faster and harder it works. But now you look more rested. Your skin looks less like you’ve been thrown into a washing machine for a couple spins.”

“Are you always this blunt?”

You smiled. “It’s part of my charm.”

“Ain’t nothing charming about this conversation, doll.”

“Really? Because I’m finding this thrilling.”

Professor X smiled. “Okay, that’s enough, you two.”

“She started it!”

You just smiled again. “You’re welcome. If you ever need more tea, you know where to find me.”

With a pat to his arm, you walked past him and said your goodbyes to the professor before heading for the door. 

“Don’t worry about it, you can keep your tea.”

“Have to admit, though. I did help.”

Internally, reluctantly, he did have to. Because despite everything, it was one of the best nights of sleep he’d ever had. 

Another week rolled by and despite Logan doing everything he could to avoid the woman that he still considered had drugged him to sleep, he seemed to see more of you. 

Turns out, you taught cooking and baking classes to the students so they could at least make themselves a decent meal every once in a while instead of quick ramen noodles. And you also taught outdoor survival skills which Xavier had Logan help sub in with. 

But this also meant, much to his chagrin, Logan was actually starting to like you. 

Rather than wanting to storm off in the other direction, he wasn’t annoyed by your presence in the room anymore and you definitely had a way with teaching a group of rowdy teenagers who would rather do anything other than learn normal “camp” things. 

It was actually entertaining watching you teach your students. And even he learnt a thing or two.

Another week passed and Logan found himself back in your kitchen, sitting at the kitchen island, watching you as you lent one palm on the counter top, a pencil between your teeth and two pens behind one of your ears. 

“Want some tea?” You asked him after a few minutes of content silence. 

“Are you going to drug me again?”

You rolled your eyes. “It’s store bought, Logan. I just added a couple extra things.”

“Really, like what?”

Sighing, with a slight smirk, you turned around and pulled the box of tea from the cabinet before throwing it at Logan from over your shoulder. “Read it. It tells you what to add.”

“They actually sell this stuff?”

You turned back to your messy notebook with a smile. “It helps when your grandmother worked in the tea business for forty years. All the tricks of the trade, passed down through generations.”

Logan watched you work- no, dance around the kitchen. You didn’t even have to look at what you were doing and before he knew it, there was another tea in front of him, in a glass mug with hand-painted roasting logs on it. 

Logan looked at it for a moment and then you spoke up, without looking in his direction. “Being a night owl means different hobbies can be created. Glass painting was one of them.”

Logan shrugged with a nod before drinking his tea. The effects weren’t as quick or as “violent” as the first time. Instead, it was calming, then relaxing, then just plain and simple tiredness. 

“Go to bed, Logan. Before you crash into my floor again.”

“How did you get me to bed the last time? I’m not exactly all flesh and blood.”

You shrugged. “I’m stronger than I might look to you. But, go to bed, Logan.”

“Will you?”

“Will I do what?”

“Go to bed, too?”

You turned and faced him. “Soon. I want to finish this up first.”

“What are you even doing?”

“New recipe. I shouldn’t be long. Look, I promise. Twenty minutes, I’ll be in my bed, fast asleep.”

Logan raised his brow for a moment but then stood. If he waited any longer, he might actually crash onto the floor again. 

“Okay, fine.”

And you stuck to your word. Logan heard your footsteps coming up the stairs less than ten minutes later and after that…he didn’t remember much other than just complete calmness and sleep. 

The next couple of nights followed the same pattern. And even if he still wasn’t a tea drinker, Logan was growing a (small) taste for it. 

Until one night he walked in and found you stood in the corner, changing your t-shirt. 

You already wore a cami top underneath most of your t-shirts anyway – especially in the kitchen, but your first one had gotten too messy. So you were safe when changing. Except, you hadn’t expected Logan to walk in when he did. 

He paused for a minute by the door, a little apprehensive to make himself known but also trying to do so, so it wouldn’t seem like he was just watching you change your top t-shirt. But at the same time, he didn’t want you to know he was standing there because he could finally look at you. 

More so, when he saw your shoulder. 

From your left shoulder spread and faded over the top and to your right, a mark similar to a burn. The skin was scarred, yet healed over. A forgotten memory. The strap of your top cut through the larger scar that ran directly across the middle of the scarred skin, almost in a wave. Parts were redder than others but you didn’t seem to be in pain as you pulled the t-shirt over the top of your head and down your body, covering it back up. 

Logan coughed as he entered and you turned around, greeting him as you did every night. 

“New recipe?”

You nodded, looking at the messy t-shirt in your hand. “Yeah, it didn't go over too well with the mixer.”

“Better luck next time.”

And then you both just…talked. 

You were slowly telling him a little more about yourself each night, even if you didn’t know it yet. 

“I just remember being thrown into the wall and waking up like an hour later, completely covered in green brownie batter.”

You both laughed as you told him the story, but then he asked. 

“Is that where the scar is from? On your back?”

It was almost as if you had forgotten about it, having to take a moment to realise what he was talking about.

“Oh, that. No, that…that’s nothing important.”

Logan knew to drop his line of questioning. If you said it was nothing important, then there was no way of getting you to talk about it. 

Until the day he found you napping on the sofa. 

Everyone was outside for the day considering it was winter break and fresh snow had finally fallen on the ground. Except, you had opted to stay inside, and fell asleep on one of the central sofas in one of the quieter communal areas. 

The large windows let a lot of natural light flood in, and the fire that was crackling away in the fireplace was enough to heat the room, especially when the door was closed. 

And it wasn’t long before the quiet hum of the fire and odd crackle of the wood, mixed with the heat and your lack of sleep, overtook you and you fell asleep. You didn’t even wake when your book dropped from your hand and onto the floor. 

“Hey, Y/n, they’re all-”

Logan stopped in his tracks when he saw you. 

Fast asleep. 

He was careful to remain quiet as he walked over to you, cutting between you and the coffee table to pick up your fallen book and place it safely onto the table, where he sat on the edge and took a minute to just…memorise you. 

Since he met you, you had done nothing but be moving. All the time. From the crack of dawn to nightfall, you were constantly going and running and teaching and baking and doing and…hell, for all he knew, you could be something other than mutant or human – even those two needed sleep at some point. 

Hell, even he needed sleep. 

But you were just constantly forever going. 

Lay on your left side, your elbow tucked under your head, you were lightly snoring. Logan brushed the stray hairs that had fallen in front of your face, away, his hand rested on your cheek for a moment, his thumb brushing across your cheekbone for a second. 

You were fast asleep. 

Your worn Beatles band-tee was twisted slightly around your middle, whilst the waist of your jeans had twisted in the opposite direction a little, leaving a small gap that showed Logan the redness from the indent marks of where you had been lay, probably, on your other hip for a while. 

Logan thought about covering you up, and leaving you where you were, for a moment. But he also knew you could be like him when it came to sleep. And it was best to get it when you could. So, rather than chance the kids coming back in and waking you up, he made a decision. 

You flinched a little in your sleep as he spoke to you and lifted you from the sofa. It wasn’t long before he found your room and laid you into bed before covering you up. 

Once more, he brushed the hair from your eyes as you turned onto your side again. 

He looked around for a moment before finding what he was looking for. 

A heavy blanket. 

He lay it over the top of your bedcovers and you, before moving across the room to light the fireplace. 

Only, as he did so and placed the fireguard in front, you whimpered. 

He turned around but you were still. 

Then you whimpered again. 

“No,” you whispered. 

Logan moved over to you quickly and quietly as he could. You fell silent again. 

He let out a small breath and covered you up a little more before leaning down. He didn’t know why, but he pressed a small kiss to your temple before walking away. 

Except you reached out for his hand. 

Logan looked down at his hand that was connected with yours, then to you. You were still asleep. 

But it didn’t look like it was a good dream. 

You were shaking. Your entire body seemed to be paralysed with fear, all the while you were mumbling words Logan just couldn’t quite make out. 

Then the glass of water by your bed started shaking. Then the table it was on. Then your bed. Then the floor. Whatever was happening to you was spreading throughout your room. 

A picture that had been hanging on the wall outside, fell to the floor. 

Quickly turning back to you, Logan took hold of your shoulder. He kept calling your name but it was like you couldn’t hear him. 

“Please…please don’t hurt them. Please.” You screamed and then grunted in pain. Whatever was happening in your nightmare, you were being hurt. Badly. 

“Hey, Y/N! Hey, you’re okay! You’re safe! You’re in New York. You’re at school! It’s not real, Y/N. None of it is real.”

Your head shifted. You were searching. 

“I’m right here. None of it is real. You need to wake up.”

“L…Logan?” 

The violent shaking in your room slowed for a moment.

He was shocked. Maybe…

“Just follow my voice. It’s just a nightmare. I can’t get into your head and bring you out. Just…follow my voice.”

The shaking around your room gradually slowed, but you still were. Then your eyes opened. 

And glowed. 

They were still your eyes just…brighter. 

“Logan?!”

He had stopped speaking. You were panicking. 

“It’s okay. You’re safe. I’m right here.” Logan took hold of your hand and held it tighter. “You’re safe.”

The shaking slowed and your eyes closed again. 

Then everything stopped. 

Everything went silent. 

Logan looked at the glass of water beside your bed. It was like it had never moved. 

Then you gasped and shot up from your bed. You kicked your legs and brought your hands behind you to push yourself up and the covers from you. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey, hey, Y/n. Hey,” 

You were gasping for breath, dizzy from your nightmare. 

“Hey, it’s me. Whoa. Hey, look at me. It’s Logan.”

He took you by your shoulders then your face. 

“It’s Logan.”

You finally calmed a little, and he watched your eyes search his entire face until you finally recognised him. 

“Logan,” you breathed. 

“Yeah…”

Your shoulders relaxed and you leaned closer to him, wrapping your arms around him. His hand held the back of your head and his other round your back, pressing you further into him. He could still feel your body trembling. 

“What happened?”

“You had a nightmare.” Logan told you. “The room started shaking and I tried waking you up.”

You took a couple of breaths before moving back and pushed the hair from your face and curled your legs up closer to your chest. 

Logan, sat beside them, placed one of his hands on your knee and the other in your right hand. 

“What happened?”

You shook your head. “Nothing-”

“The entire room started shaking and your eyes glowed. That’s not ‘nothing important’, Y/n.”

You swallowed and nodded your head before dropping your gaze and shifting until you were sat up, crossed-legged. 

Logan remained where he was, sat on the edge of your bed. 

“Before I worked as a teacher and cook here, I was one of them.” The last four words came out slowly, almost like you had to convince yourself you were saying them out loud. “I was an X-Man. I was a part of the team.”

“So what happened?”

“The usual. A mission gone wrong.”

“And that’s what the nightmares…”

You nodded. “It was the mission that made me retire. They needed me to do a job, and I couldn’t do it. There were kids, mutants, being held captive. Some rich dick thought he could duplicate mutants. As the team went it, I was meant to be holding ground outside, helping them find their way through. Only, I didn’t shut off my power. We knew they had someone who could detect me if I didn’t. I got so focused on trying to find the kids, trying to make sure the team got to them that the team almost…”

You paused for a minute. You hadn’t told anyone this story. Ever. 

Logan took your hand. “It’s okay. It’s just me.”

You let Logan’s touch soak into your skin. A memory you’d never forget yet never truly remember why you never would forget. 

“They almost died, Logan.” You looked at him and he could see the tears behind your eyes, threatening to come forward and fall again. “Everyone almost died, because I didn’t shut it down. You asked about the scar, the one on my back?”

Logan nodded. He didn’t like where this was going. 

“It’s from that day. One of their scientists had set off some kind of power..thing. Sent me flying blocks away from where I was supposed to be. I crash landed into some old wooden panelling which knocked me down. But once I got up…their Superhuman had found me.”

“Was he the one that-”

You nodded, remembering it as if it was yesterday. “I was thrown, this time on my front. I tried to get up but then all I felt was pure fire. He was burning me. Giving me a reminder of why ‘someone like me, born with the powers of gods’ shouldn’t have them when I was clearly so ‘weak’. By the time he stopped, I realised where he was going. And by the time I got up, everything just…blew up.”

“Y/n, everyone’s safe. You’re all here. Don’t you teach some of those kids?”

You nodded. “Doesn’t mean I don’t forget that feeling. One of the kids had been watching the guards, tracking their materials to find a way out. If they hadn't done that…they wouldn’t have gotten out, Logan. And they almost didn’t. All because I couldn’t fight. I can’t be the reason why I lose my family and the people I love.”

The tears came forward now, streaming down your face at an unstoppable speed. 

“I just can’t.”

Logan shook his head, pushing himself closer to you to hold you. And you let him. Leaning into him, you felt his arms grow tighter around your body. There was a small security in his arms, one that you hadn’t felt in a long time. 

“None of that was your fault.” Logan told you. “I know you and I know this team. You would never intentionally hurt people. And forgetting to turn your powers off? We’ve all made mistakes in moments like that. Sometimes you get so focused on one person, you tend to lose all sense of self. But none of that was your fault. They got out. They’re all here. They’re all alive. And rich dick is spending his life as dust in the fucking wind.”

“Believe me, I’ll be the first to tell you changing your feelings on something won’t stop the nightmares.” Logan continued. “But you need to find a way to let it go. Don’t let them control you. Not when you won. Not when you’re here, with everyone, able to drug me with some store bought tea.”

You laughed a little at that, wiping your tears away before Logan did the same thing, brushing his thumb underneath your eye and across your cheek. Logan smiled a little. Others might have called it a muscle flex, but knowing Logan; it was a small, brief smile. 

“Don’t let them win.”

You nodded, your head still in his hands. 

“Logan? Will you…Can you stay?”

It seemed to take Logan a second to find his answer. What you couldn’t see was that most of that time, he was trying to figure out why his answer came as fast as it did for him. 

“You don’t-”

“I can stay.”

You looked up at him and nodded with a slight smile. 

Moments later, Logan had kicked his shoes off and was lying beside you in bed. 

“Logan?”

“Yeah?”

You took his hand that lay between you both and turned your head to look at him. 

“Thank you for staying.”

It was his turn to turn his head and when he did, he felt something. The same feeling he’d been getting since the day you gave him his first cup of tea. 

Logan just nodded before lifting his arm. “Come here.”

You moved closer to him as he lifted the covers a little so you could do so. Then he dropped his arm around your back, his palm flush against its centre before it slid a little lower to hold you by your waist. 

As your head settled close to his chest, he dropped his head a little, leaning his jaw against the top of your head and as he felt you relax and close your eyes, he did the same thing. 

The moment your breathing became even, and he knew you were asleep, Logan settled back down and held you just a little tighter against him as he closed his eyes and joined you in a dreamless sleep. 

Hours passed and Charles hadn’t seen either you or Logan in hours. But when he spotted a picture frame that had fallen onto the floor, just outside of your room, he sped as quickly as he could down the hall, but paused when he saw the door open and a sight he didn’t think he’d get to witness for at least a few more months. 

From the hallway, Charles peered in to find the snow falling heavily outside of your window. The children and other teachers were still outside playing. The fire had died down a little, but even he could feel the heat from the room. 

And in the middle of the left hand wall through the door, was your bed. 

Where yourself and Logan slept soundly, almost as one. With your face and hand on his chest, and his arm around your waist, whilst his other hand held onto your arm in a soft grip, keeping your hand on him. 

Xavier could practically feel the serenity oozing from the pair of you. He knew Logan was troubled and that you yourself hadn’t felt safe or content in a long time. 

And he would never have to tell Logan of the change you brought to him, or the one he brought to you. The change that helped you feel safe again, content again. Happy again. Without the added feeling that something was about to go off kilter. 

Because Logan already knew. 

And so did you. 

And for Logan, no matter how many times you would tell him you were “nobody important”, you would always be important to him. 

[little-diable]

Cocky Tornado Wrangler – Tyler Owens (smut)

Finally watching Twisters tonight. My poor aunt who has to listen to me gush about our husband. Thank you so much for the love on my other Tyler fic, I hope y'all will love this just as much. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: There are many things (y/n) would prefer to having to share a room with the man she hates. But does she really hate him? Or will the bed they share be enough to push them closer together?

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f), piv, enemies to lovers, lots of teasing

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem!reader (3.8k words)

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Her voice dripped with exhaustion, eyes tired and ready to flutter shut any moment now. But fuck, she couldn’t give in just yet, had to fight yet another battle with the self proclaimed tornado wrangler who was staring down at her with his signature smirk glued to his lips.

The smirk he wore in every video of his. Videos she watched whenever they were uploaded to his channel. Not that she’d ever tell Tyler that. And god forbid he’d ever stumble upon the saved favourites she watched in moments where she needed distraction from everything but him. 

“Well, seems like your prayers were answered, pretty. An EF4 and now we get to share a room, certainly feels like we’re even closer to heaven now, doesn’t it?” Tyler’s hand found her waist to give it a soft squeeze before he gently pushed her further into the motel room. It had been an exhausting day, filled with adrenaline highs as they chased tornadoes until the late evening. Even though they had been mesmerised by the beautiful disaster, they were now forced to stay in one of the close towns, cut off from the highway heading home. 

“I can take the couch.” She had her eyes set on the rather worn out couch which had been pushed against one of the walls that were painted in a faded out pink colour. The whole room made her feel like she was back at her grandparents home, letting an almost melancholic feeling settle in the pit of her stomach. 

“You sure you don’t wanna share? The bed’s big enough, or I could take the couch.” Tyler hung up his still wet hat before placing his bag down on the bed. (Y/n) watched him take in the room, giving her a few seconds to curse him for wearing a white shirt that now clung to his muscular upper body. His back muscles were shining through the wet fabric, letting her get lost in the thoughts of how it must feel to brush her nails along his soft skin. Thoughts that shot heat straight down to her core, knowing that she’d have to take care of that cursed longing in the shower. 

“In your dreams, Owens, and we both know you won’t fit on that couch.” His raspy laugh left her grinning, unable to stop her tired face from reacting to the man (y/n) claimed she hated and yet needed to feel close at any given chance. 

“Trust me, baby, my dreams are all about sharing a bed with you and so much more.” With a wink thrown her way, Tyler plopped down on the bed. He studied her for a moment, taking in her wet frame while his tongue kissed his teeth and his muscular arms were locked behind his head. She needed to get out of here, needed to find shelter in the warm shower before her body would do something she couldn’t stop it from doing. 

“I’ll grab a quick shower.” (Y/n) didn’t wait for his reply, darting for the bathroom that was just big enough for her to let go of a deep breath. 

She hated that she had dreamt of moments like these, wondering how it may play out with Tyler by her side, having to share a bed while the world outside was ending. And all they’d have eyes for would be one another, no matter how many tornadoes called for them. 

Within seconds, (y/n) had shuffled out of her wet clothes only to step into the small shower. She couldn’t stop her soft moan from leaving her as the warm water cascaded down her back as if it were hugging her. The silence she was now offered forced her thoughts back to the longing she couldn’t shake, the need to take care of the pulsing between her thighs that grew stronger with every passing moment. 

Her fingers moved quickly, knowing that she didn’t have much time before Tyler would disturb her peace, desperate for a shower himself. With her teeth buried in her lower lip, (y/n) let her fingers circle her pulsing bundle, imaging Tyler’s fingers instead of her own. 

Would he touch her with the same kind of urgency? Would he draw the same moans from her she oh so desperately wanted to give in to? No, he wouldn’t. He’d make her feel things she had never felt before, clashing through her like a tornado stronger than she had ever been fortunate enough to study. Tyler Owens was her own personal disaster and she was close to letting him rip her off her feet, close to allowing him to have his way with her without being able to protest. 

“Fuck,” the word rolled off her tongue all too quickly, knowing that she was already close to giving in to her high. (Y/n) didn’t pay the ache in her forearm any mind, didn’t worry about the way her fingers begged her to move slower, all she was focused on were her thoughts that painted a picture of Tyler and the way he’d touch her.

And with her head rolled back and her lips tightly pressed together, she came. (Y/n) let her orgasm wash through her, rubbing her pulsing bundle a few more times before her tired body found its way out of the shower.

It took her a second to realise that she hadn’t taken any clean clothes with her, drawing yet another exhausted groan from her. Carefully, she opened the door, hiding behind her towel while her eyes found Tyler’s frame. No longer was he wearing his shirt, exposing his muscular upper body to her eyes which tried to burn every inch of his naked skin into her mind. 

“Tyler,” her soft voice drew his eyes from his phone. “Do you have a shirt I can borrow?”

She expected a snarky comment, anything to tease her and rile her up some more, but Tyler stayed quiet, eyes focused on the parts of her body that weren’t covered by the door or her towel. (Y/n) could have sworn that he had swallowed heavily first before rising to his feet to reach for his bag. His eyes stayed glued to her while he reached a shirt out for her to take, letting his fingers brush against hers for a moment. 

It was cheesy almost, the buzz of lighting striking her at the small contact. A touch so small and yet so significant, her mind would probably think of it for days and nights to come.

With a small “thank you” rolling off her tongue, (y/n) stepped back into the bathroom to put on the shirt, grateful that it was long enough to cover her panties. Trembling legs carried her back into the room, not daring to look at Tyler, whose eyes she felt on her frame. No words were spoken between them as he pushed past her into the bathroom, allowing (y/n) to deeply exhale the second she was left alone once again. 

……

The moments after Tyler had returned from the shower, wearing nothing but boxers that clung to his body just as tightly as his wet shirt had, had been filled with a tight atmosphere. Barely any words had been shared between them, not as she had made herself comfortable on the couch, not as he had turned off the light while stretching out on the bed.

She had turned her back to him to stop her eyes from wandering, knowing that no matter how tired she was, her mind wouldn’t let her rest. Not when he was so close to her. Not when she heard his uneven breaths that told her he was still awake. Not when she could easily move closer to feel him pressed against her. 

What was he thinking of? Was he still riled up by today’s chase? Or was he also thinking of those moments where he had passed his shirt to her? 

Even though she begged her body to stay calm, to not move back towards him, she lost the fight within seconds. Her front was turned towards him, letting her eyes rest on the parts of his body that weren’t hidden by the blanket, making her awfully aware of how close he was to her. 

This was unusual for them, quiet moments where neither spoke, where no teasing or bickering could be heard. Nothing but the breaths both let go of while he kept his eyes focused on the ceiling and she wasn't strong enough to look away from him just yet.

“I can feel you staring, pretty.” Tyler rolled his head towards her, eyes meeting (y/n)’s like lightning striking a tree, buzzing straight through it to set it ablaze. “What’s going on in that confusing mind of yours?”

“Just because you’re not smart enough to understand my thoughts it doesn’t mean my mind’s confusing.” The words had left her all too quickly, drawing a gritty laugh from Tyler. A sound she loved hearing, no matter how hard she tried to deny it. A sound that left her smiling the second her ears were fortunate enough to hear it. 

“You wound me. I’d say we’re a pretty good team when it comes to understanding your plans.” Heat spread through every part of her body, a heat she was all too used to by now but still didn’t know how to work with. She rolled her eyes at Tyler before refocusing on his handsome features, taking in every part of the face she knew like the back of her hand. 

Her breath hitched in her chest as he lifted the blanket, patting the spot next to him, “Come up here, I don’t need you complaining about back pain tomorrow.”

(Y/n)’s body moved without holding back, crawling to the spot next to him as if she had done this numerous times before. It felt awfully right to lay next to him, to feel Tyler’s arm slowly wrap around her middle to cage her against his chest. 

“Do you remember the first time we chased together?” She tried to stop her hand from moving as he spoke, she really did. But yet (y/n) miserably failed, unable to keep away from his soft skin any longer, needing to feel it beneath her wandering fingers as she traced slow patterns on the skin of his warm chest. 

“I wanted to break your nose that day, god, you were even cockier back then. Do you still think people instantly recognise you when you meet them?” He shook his head with a smirk playing on his lips, tightening his grip on (y/n) as she shuffled even closer. That day was replaying in her mind every now and then, remembering how he had misjudged her for a fangirl, expecting her to almost faint when shaking his hand. And yet she hadn’t known much about him, had never watched any of his videos before that day. Something Tyler hadn’t taken as lightly as he should have, turning into the cocky asshole she had cursed for the past months.

“I no longer care about that, only worry about impressing you, pretty.” He pressed a kiss to her hairline before he let his eyes flicker back to the ceiling. His sharp jawline was exposed to her wandering eyes, making (y/n) awfully aware of how easily she could kiss him right now. It took everything in her not to move, to hold still as her heart picked up its beat. Whatever it was that had urged her on to fight against him these past months, it was now gone, leaving her unable to fight back and in need of something more. 

“We both know that’s a lie, Owens. All you worry about is tornadoes and busty women who ask you to sign their cleavages.” Her laugh was mixed with his as he let his gaze find hers again while squeezing her side. She fought against his grip, hating that he had found her most ticklish spot that made her toss and turn against him. Tyler seemed to enjoy the sight, letting his fingers find the spot again while shifting her around to hover over (y/n). With one hand pressed to the pillow and his knees caging in her right thigh, he left her no room to move away from him. 

“Do I hear jealousy?” His eyes wandered over her face, focusing on her lips as she fought against the need to look away. “You know there’s no need to be jealous, pretty. All you gotta do is give in and stop fighting our bond.” 

A sharp reply was burning on her tongue, and yet her body managed to win the fight, letting her fingers find the back of Tyler’s neck to pull him in for a soft kiss. He instantly replied to the touch, adding more pressure to the kiss with his body shuffling closer. It felt as if they were burning, tied together like two matches setting a petrol station ablaze, ready to alight the darkening night. 

With every swipe of his tongue, with every moan rumbling through them, it set in further that this was finally happening, that they were finally crossing that last bridge. No longer was she set on fighting it, purely focused on Tyler’s touch and the need to feel him as close as humanly possible. 

“Talk to me, baby, what do you want?” Her mind was torn between the kisses they kept sharing and the feeling of him growing against her thigh, telling (y/n) that he needed and wanted this as much as she did. Her fingers combed through his hair, letting her nails scratch his skin with just enough pressure to leave him tingling in excitement. 

“Everything, I want all of you, Tyler.” Hours ago she would have cursed herself for giving in so easily, for admitting that insatiable hunger she had felt for months now. But she no longer found it in herself to care, could no longer shy away from having whatever Tyler was about to offer her. Her words drew a groan from the tall tornado wrangler who kissed his way down her throat while shifting his weight onto his knees. They held eye contact as his hands disappeared beneath the shirt of his she was wearing, finding their way straight to her chest. 

“Fuck, feels like you were made for me, every part of you.” His praises sank in like a ship hitting the ocean ground, sinking lower with every passing second, forever resting on the ground like the praises he spoke to her. Forever etched into her mind. Forever remembering the way they made her feel lightheaded and giddy. 

Urgently he pulled the shirt over her head, set on exposing her body to his hungry eyes. Tyler let go of another groan as he looked down at her, making a silent promise that he’d have to take a picture of her in that position one of these days. He dipped his head down to  suck on her nipples, making her moan for him while she spread her thighs for him. His core met hers, leaving both breathless as his clothed cock rubbed against her clothed heat – a feeling so intense, it only urged Tyler on to move further down her body. 

“Will you let me taste you, pretty?” Only a breathless “Please” left (y/n), drawing a smirk to his lips. She watched his eyes light up as he pushed her panties down her legs, looking like he was marvelling at art – art so mesmerising he couldn’t stop staring. 

“Let me make you feel good, baby.” Those were the last words Tyler spoke before his tongue brushed her folds, drawing a moan from the both of them. His arms wove their way around her thighs, keeping her pressed to him as he ate her out like a starving man, high on her taste and the sounds she made for him. 

Nothing but moans managed to leave (y/n), getting lost in the feeling of Tyler sucking on her pulsing bundle, while he pushed two fingers into her – doing just what she had imagined him doing in the shower a while ago. He instantly managed to find that spot that made her see stars as he pressed down on it with his fingers, forcing (y/n) to choke on her sounds.

“Oh god, Tyler,” he chuckled against her skin, letting the sound vibrate through every part of her. From the corner of his eyes he could see her fist the covers with her free hand, the one that wasn’t buried in his hair, telling him that she was already close. And yet Tyler knew that he’d pull away soon, wanting to feel her cum around his cock like he had imagined her doing the past months. 

Tyler had worked hard for her attention, knowing that he had fucked it up the first time they had met. She had instantly managed to push him off his high horse, bruising his ego with her sharp words he could still recite today. And yet it had only made him desperate for more, set on pulling her closer like no other woman before her. 

“I could die a happy death between your thighs, pretty, but I need to fuck you now.” The dazy look she shot him made him feel proud, knowing that she had been about to cum on his tongue. She didn’t reply, at least not with words, with nothing but a whine did she pull him towards her for another kiss. He shuffled out of his boxers, freeing his twitching cock with a few movements. 

“Let me grab a condom.” He left her side for a moment, allowing (y/n) to sort through her thoughts which were all over the place. And yet she couldn’t carry about anything but the need to feel him buried inside of her, knowing that once she knew what it feels like to have him so close, she’d never be able to let him go again. A thought that left her torn between excitement and anxiety, unsure what was awaiting them. 

“Do you still want this? We don’t have to do this if you’re unsure, (y/n).” Tyler’s whispers ripped her out of her spiralling thoughts. She shook her head at him before pulling back in, focused on his handsome face, mustering every spot she could blindly find. 

“I want this, want you.” That’s all he needed to hear before aligning himself with her heat and slowly pushing into her. With his forehead pressed against hers, both needed a moment to adjust, not expecting to feel this, unable to put the sensation into any words that would make sense to their minds. It felt like they had been made for one another, made solemnly for this moment that felt as if the world had spinning, thrown off its path. 

“Move, please, Ty’.” He instantly gave in, pulling out of her only to push in with more strength. Their bodies met with every ferocious thrust, sending bolts of electricity down her spine. She arched her back off the mattress, needing to be even closer to him while he kept burying himself inside of her. 

Blood rushed in her ears, drowning everything out but the sounds Tyler made, sounds so raspy and deep she feared it was another tornado growing in the distance, guttural sounds which left her walls fluttering around his cock. Her fingernails scratched at his shoulder, set on leaving red marks that wouldn’t fade for days, claiming him in the most primal way she could come up with at that moment. 

“God, I can’t wait to fuck you like that for the rest of my life.” The words roll off his tongue just like that. There was no way he could stop them from leaving him. And for the first time in minutes she finds herself ripped out of her state, staring up at him with wide eyes. But Tyler doesn’t say another word, all he does is study her while fucking her closer to the edge. 

“Do you mean that?” She struggled to speak, needing to ground herself before choking on her words. Their eyes kept holding contact, even as he nodded his head while watching a smile grow on her slightly swollen lips. “Good, I don’t want you to let me go again, Owens.”

He took the words as a challenge, adding even more pressure to his thrusts to throw (y/n) back into her dazed state. With his fingers circling her pulsing bundle, he knew that it was only a matter of moments before she’d cum around his cock, allowing him to take in the most beautiful sight he’d ever be fortunate enough to see. 

His name left (y/n) one last time before falling off the edge. His hips kept meeting hers, fucking her through her high while feeling his own crawling closer. She clung to him, murmuring his name like her own personal mantra as he followed her, letting go with a groan she’d forever remember.

It took both a moment to move again, for him to pull out of her and to get rid of the condom and for her to slightly shift around on the mattress, watching his every move with her weight balanced on her forearms. Tyler found his way back to her within seconds, hovering over her to press another kiss to the lips he’d never get tired of kissing. 

“Are you okay?” His whispers left (y/n) grinning, nodding against his lips while another wave of euphoria swapped through her. 

“More than.” Unspoken feelings were hanging heavily in the air, knowing that both would have to address them rather soon, but all they did was look at one another, marvelling at the person they never wanted to let go of again. “Thank you for this.”

“Nothing to thank me for, pretty. And hell, I’m not even close to being finished with you tonight.”

[peachpitfics]

Wildest Dreams

Fandom: Bridgerton

Summary: Your Father has betrothed you to his eldest, most despicable friend. You confide in your closest friend, Benedict Bridgerton, that you wish your first time could be with somebody else, somebody you liked.

Length: 3.5k

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Content Warnings: Propositioning a friend, first time, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, orgasm.

a/n: Wildest Dreams is part i of iii ~ requested by anon here.

Bridgerton master list (tag list)

The blood drained from your face, your hands clasped together in clammy nervousness – your father had just told you that since you have failed to successfully find a husband within the first year on the marriage mart, he will be arranging a betrothal between yourself and Lord Roger Howard. Lord Howard was six and sixty, he was your father’s eldest friend. Every interaction you ever witnessed was filled with contempt and disrespect, especially with service staff. His words were often filled with bigotry and unfairness. You found him repulsive, his yellowing chipped teeth in his villainous smile. The way his poorly maintained fingernails curled at the ends. His white moustache stained into unsightly colours from cigar smoke. The thought of having to be near this man, be intimate with this man, nearly drove you toward deaths door.

Your knees shook, standing from your armchair in the sitting room, not speaking a word to your father as you exited. Scurrying up the stairs, throwing yourself onto your bed, you felt your heart was about to burst out of your chest. Tears streamed down your face, you did your best to suck in deep breaths, but panic continued to wash over you. There was nothing you could do to save yourself from this fate. There had been some suitors interested in you, but you had chosen to wait, to see if the one person you had wanted would make himself available to you. Now it was too late, those suitors had moved on with other young ladies, and the man you wanted was nowhere to be seen.

Your lady’s maid knocked meekly on the door, having come to prepare you for this evening’s ball. The Queen would be there, and you knew she would be disappointed in this match your father had forced upon you, not that that would help you.

“Shall we get the family jewels out miss? I hear it is to be quite an exciting night” You could tell she was putting it on, trying to sound excited. It seemed to come off as patronizing instead.

“Whatever you should think is appropriate” You tried to keep your feelings to yourself, but the streaks through your makeup sold you out at first glance. You spent the rest of your preparation in silence, usually the two of you indulged in a little gossip, it was supposed to be fun.

All evening you hid behind larger groups, behind servers carrying trays of champagne, doing your best to ensure the inevitable could not happen. Finally, considerably late in the evening, your closest friend deigned to arrive. Almost surging across the dance floor and into Benedict’s side, you linked arms and impishly whisked him out through the conservatory doors.

“Miss Y/n” Benedict exclaimed, “What is the meaning of this?”.

You breathed heavily, ducking, and weaving through overgrown plants and florals. You scouted each entrance, paranoia clinging to your side like a child in a sack race.

“My father has committed a most heinous act” You spill to Benedict, there is only concern etched on his face, “I am to be married to Lord Howard”. Your breath never steadied, sweat beaded where your forehead met your hair line. There was that panic you remembered so fondly, only hypervigilance had eliminated that feeling from the centre of your chest.

“Oh lord,” Benedict’s mouth hung open, utterly flabbergasted, “I cannot believe he would do that to you” Both of his hands found their way to your shoulders in compassion.

“And yet he has. My own father has bargained me away to some elder beast! There is nothing I can do to stop it” Your hands ran through your hair, untangling one of the twists.

Benedict did not know what to say, all he could do was lurch forward and take you into his arms. His strong arms reached around you, pulling you tight. The sound of his steady breath and rhythmic heartbeat calmed you quickly.

“When I was a little girl, I wished on a falling star I would find someone who loved me as their equal. I now wish for that same thing on this very night. To think that I have wasted my life dreaming about love, finding someone like me, with the same interests, the same age as me even!” You thought aloud. Benedict was always someone you could tell your innermost thoughts to, he never judged you once, and he was the kindest of listeners.

Benedict Bridgerton also knew exactly who you were dreaming about ��� it was him. You had been friends for several years, and it had always been obvious to anyone with sight, that you and Ben were infatuated with each other. But Benedict was young, and impulsive, unlikely to marry at this time.

“I do not want to spend my life with that old simpleton! I want to experience life and love!” You cried out, “My elder sister divulged what it is married couples do on their wedding night – I do not want that with him! I cannot live my life without having ever experienced the touch of a man who cares for me!” Your cries turned into whispers; whimpers scattered throughout.

He held you close to him, making a caring swishing sound, it kind of sounded like the ocean. Benedict sure knew how to comfort you when you were in need.

“Y/N! Where are you?!” Your father’s voice echoed off the glass walls, sending you into a frenzy, quickly separating from Benedict, dabbing your cheeks with a handkerchief.

“Yes father?” You responded.

“Lord Howard is here with me. There is something he would like to say to you” Your father called. Benedict hid low amongst the broad-leafed plants, the darkness of the conservatory shading him. You appeared from the shadows without explanation, not that your father was seeking one. Lord Howard stood hunched next to your father, who was 20 years his junior. It appeared as though he bowed, but it was hard for you to discern.

“M…m…miss Y/n?” He stuttered, struggling to see through the spectacles at the end of his nose, “There is a question I must ask you. With the permission of your father, I am here to ask for your hand in marriage” Spittle flew from his mouth in between sharp consonants. Dread flooded your body, you felt like you were being submerged in a pool of water, the tears in your eyes, simply the only way for the water to escape.

There was animosity in your father’s gaze, warning you there was simply one answer to the question asked. Taking in a deep breath, “Yes, Lord Howard, I will accept” You murmured. Lord Howard did not look pleased, he did not appear bothered either, he simply nodded once and turned about, marching back to the main ballroom. You wondered if this was what your marriage was going to be like? Would he ignore your existence and leave you to your own life if you produced an heir? You could not ascertain whether this was a good thing or not.

Benedict hung his head, having watched this entire exchange from the shadows. There was an element of guilt on his part, he blamed himself, unable to give you what you wanted in time to save you. When your father had left you standing still, tears staining your dress, Benedict slid out from the darkness.

“I think I am going to ask the footman to take me home… I only have so much time before my time is not mine any longer” You lower lip trembled; the peaceful silence of the conservatory disturbed by the soft sounds of sobs.

“Y/n,” Benedict muttered, his hand running down your upper arm. Electricity connected your flesh in a zap, your breath caught in your chest as his skin joined with yours. His tender hands grazed yours, tickling the palm of your hand.

“Benedict” You shook your head, moving to take your hand away before he closed his around it. His tongue flicked over his lips several times as he contemplated what he had to say. Sometimes you heard the other young ladies tell stories about Benedict, you never knew if they were true. They spoke of how he was finest of the Bridgerton brothers, they also spoke of his rakish tendencies, however mostly in a jealous fashion.

The forecast in Benedict’s eyes swiftly shifted from clear blue to a stormy grey. You had not noticed how tall he was before, looming over you like a dark cloud. His face illustrated apathetic gloom, his hand boring you into him, like he was the eye of the storm.

“There is something I must speak with you about, in private” Benedict rolled his tongue aggressively on his teeth as he spoke. Everything about his demeanor was confusing, you felt strangely like prey, wondering why it felt good. Benedict snuck out the conservatory door, your hands clutched together while he led you to his carriage, asking his footmen to make way for the Bridgerton house.

“What is this about Benedict?” You asked as soon as the door was secure and the carriage moving.

“Y/n, please give me a moment and I will explain everything. I do not know if I have a solution to your problem, but I may be able to offer a compromise. Something I would only do for you, if you asked, because I care about you so deeply” Benedict paused, this intense look of thoughtful worry about him, “If you would be agreeable, I would like to suggest that I… bed you for the first time” Benedicts voice was low and resounding.

Your lips parted abashedly, your cheeks flushed pink, blinking became uncontrollable. All you could do was sit completely still, astronomically stunned by what Benedict had proposed. You understood that for whatever reason, Benedict could not give you everything you wanted, but he was offering you something. He was offering you an experience you may never have gotten to have otherwise, a chance to feel loved and wanted in intimate affection with another person.

“Say something, anything, please. I cannot stand this silence” Benedict rubbed his temples after a few minutes. His eyes were still dark with longing, he looked over with you a deviating sense of ownership.

“You would do that for me?” You entreated, hands shaking so hard you nearly sat on them to make it stop.

Benedict nodded surely across from you, the carriage pulling up at the Bridgerton house. Your eyes locked, the carriage completely still and silent, you took a moment to consider the ramifications of your choice. Ben’s posture was resolute, his gaze expansive, eagerly waiting for your reply.

“Yes” You swallowed hard, Benedict snatching your hand from your lap and dragging you from the carriage, running up the walk and into the house. You made short work of the very many stairs on the way up to his bedroom, sure that nobody could have seen you, as you ran that fast.

Blood rushing around your body, you stood just inside Benedict’s door, trying desperately to catch your breath. Benedict shuffled about the room, lighting a few candles, closing the windows for the evening. He looked back at you, having already stripped into your underclothes while his back was turned. A most shameful lust driven smile sketched lightly onto his face, he made the long voyage acrost the bedroom to stand a foot or two in front of you.

“Thank you for doing me this favor. I will owe you always” You remarked, your eyes dancing figure eights on the lush carpet squishing under your wiggling toes.

Benedict’s shoulders were more relaxed than you had ever seen them, his posture always just so. Strands of hair bled onto his sticky forehead, dark eyebrows brewing overhead transfixed eyes. That charming smile, filled with foolishness, had not been seen since leaving the ball – this was something so chronically serious to him. He effortlessly tugged at his maroon cravat, casting it to the floor, his proud neck craning to get another glimpse of you from another angle. His throat bobbed when he stepped closer again, just one more step. Fiddling with his waistcoat buttons ardently, watching the frustration set into your eyes, Benedict finally shed his coat and pitched it across the room, knocking over something unbreakable in the corner. It did not steal his gaze; his eyes were set on you. Benedict lifted his suspenders off his shoulders, allowing them to dangle by his hips, the chest of his white, silk undershirt gaping open. Your teeth instinctually bit into your lower lip at the slightest sight of skin you had not ever seen before. The corner of Benedicts mouth upturned smugly, his lips rolling together as his breath became audible. Standing just one foot apart, the tension between you was palpable. You wondered if someone had struck a match, might the room simply explode, there seemed to be so much chemistry between the two of you.

“Please, continue” Your hands pressed to your stomach, you watched as Benedict unlaced his boots, one foot at a time on the stool at the end of his bed. His blistering eye bore into you even still. Making his way back to you, still at hardly an arm’s length, his brawny arms crossed his body to pull his undershirt off over his head.

You swooned audibly, almost gasping seeing the entirety of his torso bare for the first time. Your lips wet, your eyes unblinking, Benedict smiled cheekily, knowing the effect he had on you. His hands moved past his navel, your eyes following, to the button atop his breeches. Benedict made quick work of his trousers, having teased you plenty. Your back straightened, your gob smacked jaw snapped shut at the sight of his naked body.

Benedicts tongue flicked over his teeth, “Would you like me to redress, y/n?” He badgered, pretending to reach for his shirt on the floor. You careened forward, lessening the space between you to essentially nothing.

“I do not know what to do, not truly” You admitted, feeling yourself choking on nothing. Benedict reached out to your hands, taking them in his, placing them on his chest. Your eyes nearly rolled back in your head at the feeling of his light chest hair beneath your fingers. His sculpted pectoral muscles and taut stomach, a trail of dark hair leading you downwards made you feel ravenous for him. He looked at you as you looked at him, eyes filled with desire, faces pink in the candlelight. Benedict leaned in to kiss you, pulling away left at the last second to place a single kiss on your neck.

“You. Are. Wicked” Your face flitted over his, grazing your noses and lips together in potential kisses. Benedict leaned into you, his kiss soft, warm, and breathless. You gasped at the first separation, taking in hasty breaths before crashing back into each other. Everything you were doing felt completely wrong, reprehensible – but with a kiss as intoxicating as Benedict Bridgerton’s, you were afraid not even heaven could help you.

Your hands slipped into his thick, dark hair, pulling him down and into you, wrapping your arms around his neck and climbing up onto him. His hands rested under your thighs, carrying you toward his bed, you could feel his hardness pressing against you. 

This was not what you had been expecting, this was no impish boy. Everything about his movements was intentional, well-practiced. His hot, amorous kiss; the way his tongue slipped thankfully over yours, how his teeth greedily nipped at your auspicious bottom lip. His hands moved passionately across your back, his long kisses surprisingly hard on your neck, laying you down on the pile of bedding. He frantically shoved it off the bed, throwing pillows, knocking himself in the face once or twice. You laughed together, slow sizzling tongues dancing as one as Benedict removed your floor length under gown.

Benedict knelt above you on the bed, gently stroking himself, looking down on you. There was that dark cloud you had noticed earlier.

“I want you to enjoy me” Benedict rumbled, making you a promise. You did not yet understand, but you would. Taking his finger, Benedict dipped it into your mouth, bringing it to your nipple, rolling it between his finger and thumb at a glacial pace. His touch was peculiarly possessive, his lips rested around your other nipple now, sloppily dragging his tongue around in spontaneous circles. Big open-mouthed kisses surrounded your breasts, your shock and surprise manifesting in noiseless writhing.

Benedict positioned himself between your legs, lying down forcing your legs apart. Wanting to snap your legs shut, you refrained, trusting Benedict with your life. His breath was agonizingly warm on your inner thigh, his lips parted and gliding up from your knee. Benedict dotted small, chaste kisses along your hips – you deduced he was headed for the pinnacle of your thighs, a place you had never felt burn and ache quite like this.

His tongue slid gently up the slit of your pussy, you breath shuddered, his harmless laps amazed you with every movement. Eye lids fluttering, breathy moans filling the room, Benedict’s graceful tongue swirling your clitoris in curious patterns, drinking in your wetness as though you were a drug to him. Your fingers crawled down into his hair, your hips bucking toward his retreating tongue, you squealed lowly for more.

“Are you quite alright?” Benedict groaned into you, the vibrations of his voice set you on edge, your toes clenching in different ways.

“I do not know what you are doing, but I would like for you to keep doing it” You moaned intermittently, between gasps as his tongue flicked roguishly at your clitoris.

Benedict spread your legs wide and high, taking his finger and resting it at your entrance. He tediously sunk his finger inside you, curling up, making you yelp out in astonishment. Finding a steady pace, his finger already snug inside you, Benedict began at you again, never failing to find exactly the spot he was looking for. His alteration of speed and pressure backed you onto a cliff face, body incandescent and damned to revelry. Pressing his fingers into you rhythmically, Benedict pushed you over the edge, the sensation of falling and flying all erupting at once as you moaned and yelped uncontrollably. In the aftermath of your pleasure, you watched Benedicts eyes, his head still clutched between your legs gently sliding his tongue over you, his charming, sexy smile reflected in his eyes.

Slowing rising to his knees, Ben positioned your legs higher, resting your calves on his shoulders. Taking his cock in his hand, his pressed his tip against your wet skin. Your skin erupted in a tingling sensation, unbridled attraction and hunger liquefying your brain.

You looked up at Benedict in clear understanding, nodding gently, your eyes focusing on the powerful look of restrained urgency on Benedict’s face. He pushed forward smoothly, eliciting a groan from each of you, not even pressed to the hilt yet.

When Benedict filled your pussy fully, it felt like being winded. Panting like a dog under him, Benedict stilled himself, noticing how full and tight you felt, his cock twitching with pleasure. Benedict moved slowly at first, long unbroken strides forward, thrusting into you. Every drive forward, simultaneously blissful, and hot, curving to pound into that sensitive spot just inside you. While every drawback, was likened to slow-motion, devastating deprivation. Ceaseless, savage moans made Benedict grin above you, thrusting harder, wholly triumphant in setting you alight. You knew you would burn for him for the rest of your life.

“Make that sound for me again” Benedict grunted sinisterly, thrusting back into you brutally, forcing that loud intonation from you again.

Your fingers clawed at his back, your hips moving with his in most divine unison. Benedicts teeth grazed your ear, your breathing syncing in ceremonious adoration; his momentum increased, driving into you with new eagerness. Your nails buried in his plump behind, pulling Benedict tighter into you. With propulsive sureness Benedict plunged into you one last time, his cock twitching inside you to his irrevocable release. Never had you felt so full before, his face exquisite above you, leaning down to a soulful kiss.

“I’m proud of you, taking me like that” Benedict panted, taking a second before withdrawing and rolling next to you. He lay on the flat of his back, chasing his breath, his heart thumping through his chest, beating so hard you could almost hear it. His words made you blush, hiding your face in your hands, his seed leaking out of you onto the linen.

“It is not always going to be the same, is it?” You pondered aloud, staring at the detailing on the ceiling above you.

“I will not lie, y/n darling, I do not think every single instance will be the same” Benedict reached over, gently slapping your thigh in solidarity.

“That is disappointing to hear” You sighed dramatically.

Benedict chuckled sweetly, “Perhaps at his age, he will not have the capacity to complete more than the marital act”. You knew he was joking, trying to lift your spirits, but you genuinely hoped that might be true. Other worries began to plague your mind, worries of potential children. What if you were unable to conceive his heir due to his age?

You rolled onto your side, looking into Benedict’s clear, sky-blue eyes, “There may be another favour I ask of you, dear friend”. Benedict's eyes widened curiously, prepared to do most anything for you.

--------------------------------------------------

Tag list: @cringycat24 // @blckbarbiedoll // @freyagallileaevans // @junkie05 // @rosabeetroot // @flamewriterr // @marvelouslyme96 // @moreover-clover // @saintmagx //

If you would like to be tagged in Bridgerton fanfiction written by me, please let me know!

[ellecdc]

Um I’m just thinking about pregnant!reader giving one of the hockey boys or poly!marauders a little hockey jersey to tell them she’s pregnant 😭🥹

OMG SHUT UP this was so cute (thank you for the prompt!)

hockey player!Sirius Black x fem!reader who has a surprise for him [690 words]

CW: afab!reader, pregnancy, pregnancy announcement

Now, you may not believe him, but Sirius swears to all the hockey gods that he tried his best to control the expression that took over his face.

The two of you had gotten home from Sirius’ birthday dinner - which one of the team ‘dads’ (who not coincidentally billeted Sirius when he first joined the team) insisted on throwing, regardless of the fact that the team was already together for his actual birthday four days ago while they were on the road - and you hardly had your jacket off before you were telling him to go sit down in the living room so you could bring his present to him.

He wasn’t proud of the fact that he found himself a little disappointed you didn’t walk back into the living room stark naked, or perhaps wearing a sexy little number. But no matter; your eyes were bright and crinkled in the corner, your smile was shy yet excited and hopeful, and you were wearing his team hoodie that came down to nearly your knees, and he thought you had never looked more beautiful.

“Happy birthday, Siri.” You offered quietly as you handed him a square, thin package - the box appeared to be the same shape as one you’d purchase a pie in, but it was incredibly light.

He smiled at you before unwrapping the paper and ribbon from the box and lifting the lid from it.

Sirius recognized the colours instantly, of course he did. They were Lion’s colours; Gryffindor red and gold with black detailing.

What confused him, though, is that the garment folded before him seemed to be one of his own jerseys.

A tiny version of his jersey; the home jersey, deep red with yellow lettering which read BLACK above his number 12, clearly outlined and defined by black piping.

But if you noticed the confusion on Sirius’ face, you didn’t show it.

“This is…cute, babe.” Sirius offered cautiously, letting out a nervous laugh as he pinched the shoulders of the tiny jersey between his thumb and finger and held it up in front of him - it really was no bigger than a dinner plate.

But no sooner had the jersey fully unfurled did Sirius hear something clunk back down into the box.

“Was there something inside it?” He asked aloud as he pulled the jersey aside, and Sirius froze. “Is-”

Sitting in a bed of decorative tissue was a plastic stick with a sealed cap on the end, and a pink plus sign on the other.

And underneath it was images from a sonogram.

“Baby?” Sirius whispered, and when he could finally manage to tear his gaze away from the clues sitting in his lap, he saw you standing with your hands over your mouth and your eyes swimming with tears.

“Baby? Is this- are you…are we pregnant?”

You released a breath you’d apparently been holding that sounded very close to a sob as you nodded emphatically.

“Baby!” Sirius cheered, all but tossing your gift aside as he stood from the couch and made for you - enveloping you in a near bone crushing hug that took you right off your feet.

“What? How? How long? When did you find out? Oh my god.” He rapid fired in between pressing kisses to various parts of your face.

“I took the test just before you left for your two week road trip, but it was confirmed by the doctor three days ago.” You explained as you laughed through your tears - happy tears.

“Oh my god.” Sirius repeated as he put you back down on your feet, though he allowed no distance between you two as he rested his forehead against yours and smoothed his hands up and down your back. “Oh my god, oh my god. I can’t believe this. We’re gonna have a baby?”

You let out a wet chuckle and pressed a kiss to his lips that saw him chasing yours for two more. “We’re going to have a baby.” You confirmed.

Sirius shook his head in awe, kissing the dampness from your eyelashes before tucking your head under his chin.

“We’re going to have a baby.” He repeated.

“Happy birthday, Sirius.”

Best. Birthday. Ever.