#but its so satisfying when it finally works

[nsf-watch]

RAMATTRA SEX HEADCANONS

!! 18+ • MDNI

!! gn! reader, DomTop!rammy, SubBottom! reader, degrading, rammy w/o p and w/ p because :3, not proofread but does it have to be if its hcs? (it had to be)

!! guys I wovb him..

RAMATTRA WHO...

Doesn't quite understand why humans are so desperate to cum.

I mean he wasn't built with that intention in mind, obviously. So he isn't equipped with those parts.

But he does enjoy watching you come undone in his large hands.

Fucking degrading ass tease.

Slowly pumping his cold fingers in and out of you as he goes on about how stupid it is.

How desperate you are some such a simple action and some degrading words.

He gets turned on from it though, you can 100% tell.

His metal heats up, you can hear the fans go off.

His voice seems off too. Like whatever makes him speak seems to malfunction

I'm 1000% sure he, at some point, will install himself a dick.

One that syncs with him and allows him to accurately understand what it's like.

Will he tell you where he got it?

No

Don't even try finding out behind his back. Will not work.

Surprises you with it one day while you're particularly desperate from him working you with his fingers.

"You're so pitiful. So weak for something so simple... Let's see how well you can handle this.."

But the moment he slips his big cock inside you, and his sensors fire like crazy, it clicks.

He gets it.

He really gets it.

Man gets overwhelmed at first and he has to take it slow

Of course he tries to make it seem like he's going slow for your sake, but you can hear his voice module start fucking up a little.

How shaky it sounds, how low it's dropped.

But he tries to play it off.

"This is what you get off to? This is what drives humans to insanity..? Pitiful."

Ramattra definitely grips you tight enough to leave bruises too as he slowly thrusts into you.

The less overstimulated he gets, however, the faster he goes as he chases his high with you.

When you plead for more, he scoffs.

"You humans are never satisfied, always begging for more, always seeking your highs.."

But he gives in because he can't stop fucking you.

He loves the feeling of you around him, loves how you tighten every time he hits the right spot.

He's addicted to you.

And when he finally cums (because you better believe he has one that shoots a substance similar to human sperm) he short circuits a little.

He literally has to reboot after he does aftercare.

Holds you in his arms as he does. And when he's back online, he gets embarrassed when you start lightly teasing him.

"Okay, I get it. Maybe it isn't.. as bad as I thought it'd be."

[sunflowerhae]

Ch. 17 FTCU by Nicki Minaj

Haechan stands beside you, feeling like he’s on cloud 9 as he sways to the beat of the drums. Here he was with all his best friends, watching a free show for a famous artist with a model, two youtubers, and you - his idol and crush..and friend. If you had told Haechan he would be in this position 6 months ago, he probably would have laughed in your face and told you to get fucked. But regardless of that, here he stands, right by you. Typically, when you’re in a room with him, haechan can’t help his eyes from casting their long gaze towards your face. It’s almost instinct on his part; a primal part of him that can’t keep his attention away from you for more than a minute. Even now, as Mark pulls him away to ask him something along with Jaemin (the two seem to be getting on just peachy) he still is acutely aware of every movement you make.

You couldn’t stop yourself from crying.

Watching your best friend of 5 years complete a life dream of hers by finishing a world tour is not a sentence one says everyday, so when you watch Giselle finish her final monologue to the crowd and transition into her second to last song from your spot in the balcony room, you can’t stop the tears that threaten to spill. You look around briefly, noticing that haechan left his place beside you in favor of Mark and Jaemin. You try your hardest to hide the pout that makes its way to your face, shaking off the sick feeling that grows in your stomach from haechan stepping away.

It’s just a stupid crush, y/n.

Can you be blamed, though? In the 6 odd months that you’ve lived in your apartment building - sharing a wall with the boy your eyes can’t leave - Haechan has somehow found a way to nuzzle himself into your heart, setting up camp and using pieces of your sanity to make a tent. Whenever your expectations dip and you try to rationalize your friendship with him, Haechan turns around and exceeds your needs tenfold. It’s almost like the boy knows everything about you, with how much he gets right. He always seems so…aware of what you want and how to get it.

You don’t realize you’re staring until your line of sight is cut off. Looking at the face of the person who stepped next to you, Karina is smiling back while holding out a beer for you to take. “Well, they seem pretty happy right now,” she gestures behind you as you take the beer from her hands. Turning around, you see Winter trapped in Jeno’s arms, swaying to the music as he whispers something in her ear that has her throwing her head back in laughter. You sigh, jealously creeping into your heart at your best friend’s love.

“Yeah, they’re usually like that. Although it’s gotten worse recently, I will say,” you say while laughing, turning back around to see Karina doing the same, “I can’t be mad when I see them, though - just jealous.”

Karina quips her brow up at you, “no one special in your life, y/n?” You look back at her in surpise, which she seems to take as anger, “not like you don’t have anyone special or anything! Just, are you single is all I mean..” she trails off, obviously experiencing a severe case of foot in mouth syndrome. Karina internally hits herself on the head - she really liked you and your friends, and although she would never admit it she can’t help but feel intimidated by all of you. She would hate to ruin the chance of friendship with her bluntness that people typically aren’t fans of. Before she can apologize, she is surprised when you start laughing.

“No, no! You’re okay don’t worry I got what you meant. No, nobody special right now. But with my schedule it probably wouldn’t work out. Any free time I have is usually spent being lazy, or satisfying haechan and his need for attention.” You laugh while rolling your eyes playfully. Just then, the spot to your right is taken by Ningning. You liked her, she was so sweet and you couldn’t help but find her love for coffee endearing. When she told you about her desire to open her own coffee shop, you saw a lot of yourself in her; a girl with dreams who wants to be her own boss. As if feeling a kinship between the two of you, her presence eases away some awkwardness you felt almost immediately.

“Ahh yes, we know a lot about Haechan’s neediness. It’s nice having you around because you take a lot of heat off of our shoulders!” She exclaims, which causes the three of you to go into a fit of giggles, your heart growing warmer thinking about the boy so easily replacing them with you - it’s nice to feel so wanted.

“Oh yeah, I get it. I told him the other day he uses me like a girlfriend or something,” you recount the day, trailing off somewhat awkwardly as you remembered the embarrassment that followed from that sentence leaving your mouth. While you and Haechan played with each other freely, not really having filters in what you’ll say, that one took the cake and you couldn’t help but feel a little proud, as it was the first thing you’ve ever said that left the tanned boy completely silent. The two don’t seem to notice your sudden uncomfortable nature, or if they do they don’t acknowledge it. You watch Karina’s eyes go wide as she smiles,

“Oh my god remember when we met and you thought I was Haechan’s girlfriend!” The two of you laugh while Ningning seems surprised.

“Wait, what? Did I miss something? I didn’t know you guys have met before…” Ningning seemed somewhat betrayed as she stared at the both of you with wide eyes.

“Ning I’ve told you about this, girl! Y/n thought me and Haechan were together when I was there one day to study with him,”

“-yeah it was just a misunderstanding. Haechan cleared it up though!” You finished, nodding a bit as you watched Ningning’s gears turning in her head. Her eyes go light as she bursts out in laughter, picturing something funny in her head.

“God - imagine Karina and Haechan! I know for a fact Karina would never go for him, right? And vice versa too, you’re just not his type - no offense though,” she pouts at Karina, the former rolling her eyes as she tunes out the conversation and focuses on Giselles music. You find yourself hyper aware of this conversation, oddly invested. You also note that Ningning is on her third beer, and is slightly more intoxicated than you. “But it wouldn’t matter regardless!”

“Why not?” You press, instinctively leaning closer into the brown haired girl as she takes another swig of her beer before continuing her thought.

“Well, haechan has a really big crush on this girl he knows, so he would never go for Karina!” You can see the realization sink into Ningning’s eyes as she processes her own word vomit. Karina, having heard just the tail end of your conversation, snaps her head over to the two of you - suddenly becoming an active listener in this doomed interaction.

You’re not sure if your face showed it, the devastation. Maybe you liked Haechan a lot more than even you realized, because at the mention of some random girl he seemingly liked, your stomach felt as if it had been sucker punched by a WWA fighter. You tried your hardest not to wear your heart on your sleeve, just giving a slight nod and a deflated, “oh, that’s cool…”

Yeah, good job with that y/n.

Ningning can see your disappointment, even if she doesn’t understand it. Maybe you’re upset that Haechan didn’t tell you? Of course, why would he tell you - it’s you that he likes. But, you don’t know that, so of course it would upset you. She realizes that she needs to cover her tracks, at the very least so you don’t go moping to Haechan and get her in trouble.

Giselle ends her second to last song and fades into her final and most popular, the crowd screaming while Ningning actively leans in closer to you to make a point to say, “well he likes her but she doesn’t really know so there’s probably not a great chance for them! But you should ask Haechan about it - I mean he’ll definitely tell you because he’s like obsessed with you. NOT IN A WEIRD WAY or anything! Just like..normal obsessed like how people are obsessed with their friends! But like yeah that girl he’s OBSESSED with in a romantic way and he really wants her he talks about her like alll the time..BUT yeah you should ask him if you don’t know because he’ll definitely tell you about it yknow..haha yeah..anyway I’m gonna go get some water BYE Y/N!” And with that, she quickly retreats to the snack table, hitting herself on the head as she realizes she just made things much much worse. With a sigh, you turn back to the concert. Karina gives you a look of confusion, not having heard the last thing Ningning said over the crowd screaming. You shake your head with a small smile, trying to act like it’s all cool, trying to act like your heart isn’t breaking.

Haechan likes someone. He likes a girl and he didn’t even tell you. You’ve gotten to know him so much over the last 6 months, you hang out almost every day and tell each other everything. He’s been in multiple videos now and the fans love him. You eat dinner together all the time and have a tv show that you watch together and get mad at each other if someone watches ahead. Haechan is your everything, and he didn’t even tell you he had a crush on another girl.

Giselle and winter were right, you should have never gotten this involved with him. You should have protected your heart and realized you cannot date your neighbor. There’s so much you should have done, but as you turn your head and lock eyes with his brown gaze - he grins at you in a boyish manner like the both of you have a secret that only you two know - you don’t think it was ever possible to not get this far with him. Haechan has possessed your mind and heart completely, and you let him.

What a stupid crush, y/n.

GG! (Good Game!) 👾

Notes: yay everyone met‼️ guys it’s getting spicccyyyy

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[eccentricallygothic]

Experienced Sadist!Lloyd Hansen who is addicted to fucking You semi-dry and raw…

Warning(s): Unprotected p-in-v, d/s dynamics, m!Dom, f!sub, Sir kink, semi-dry/raw fucking, spit play, choking, age gap, light consent play I think idk. MDNI.

MASTERLIST

“Ouchieee~” you whine against Lloyd's finely shaved cheek, your flush lips press into his hot skin and his mustache tickles your jaw due to the proximity of your faces. “Sir,” you pout and graze the short hair on the sides of his head with your fingernails, a moan escaping your mouth because of how his fingers firmly knead the skin of your ass. “It h- hurts!” You feel his cock twitch against your barely lubricated pussy in response to your words. 

His naked chest vibrates against yours as he chuckles, hips rising to sink against yours once more to continue the burning friction of your aching skins. “Aw, sugar” your nearly dry petals desperately cling to his cock because of how tight your cavern is, the deep pink channel moving and pulling down with his cock when it goes to pull out of your needy pussy once more. “I know.” The baritone of his voice makes your hole clench in response. 

Lloyd brings one of his hands to your throat and lets his fingers feel your soft skin. “It's supposed to” his fist closes around your voice box once his thumb finishes its dance over your vocal chords and the moment your eyes roll over when your lungs run out of oxygen, the older man gathers a thick, warm blob of spit in his mouth before pouring it down in yours that you part to try and breathe. 

A humiliating gurgle sounds from your throat because of how the drop lands right on the back of your throat, the sensation causing for your shoulders to flinch in reaction. The wince that sizzles out of you is shaky and pained but the cruel pleasure that comes from focusing on the aching pleasure that buds past the uncomfortable rubbing of your intimate skins is way too exciting for you to actually end the scene. 

You let out a wheeze and your cunt unclamps itself from Lloyd's cock when he finally allows you to breathe. “Please… owchie… please, Sir!” Lloyd tsks when your worked up body releases a pearly droplet of arousal yet again. He reaches for your throbbing pussy with his other hand as he pulls you closer with his chokehold and plants his bushy lips upon yours, the feeling of his coarse facial hairs brushing your soft lip making you moan loud and nearly swallow up the finger that he uses to wipe away your natural lubricant. 

He had discovered this a while back, and though it was a rather slow and painful process, the orgasm was always worth it because of how sensitive and desperate it made the two of you. The struggle due to the difficulty in movement that resulted from the minimal slick made you wanting, impatient and wild. So sometimes, like today, Lloyd would deliberately wipe your pussy of its juices -since you always drip puddles for your old man- and then fuck you with the least amount of moisture possible. 

“Oh, God, fuck it hurts so bad!” You hiss out when he releases your throat once more and spits on your mouth before snaking his chokehold along your jaw to smear his oral discharge over your lips. “Oh, fuck, ouch— mmmm” Lloyd forces his thumb between your lips and your lips obediently wrap around it to suck at the digit. 

“But you like it,” your back arches when he twists one of your nipples between his fingers. “Don't you, my dirty little cock mutt?” Your face scrunches into an expression of pain and wanton and you vigorously nod. “I mean,” he pushes one of your legs over his broad shoulder and you feel his tip ghost over your cervix. “I can stop if it's too much, y'know?” The mock care makes your eyes roll once more. 

Ever the tease.

“No! No, please! No!” Your toes curl in your peripheral vision as you pout up at him, feeling yourself getting impaled into the bed because of how tightly he holds your hips to slide into you deep and hard. “Please don't!”

A satisfied smirk makes its way on his face and he grins, shaking in silent mirth. “And why not? I thought it hurt” he's a sadist through and through. 

He gets off on this. 

“B- Because… Because…” You choke on your own spit when he reaches for your throat once more. 

“But, what?” You cannot shame or blame him, though. Not when you aren't much different from him.

“Because I am your dirty little painslut cock mutt, Sir” you say the words he likes and Lloyd moans before suddenly clanging his fingers against the side of your ass that is exposed to him due to your raised leg. “Ouch!” 

“That's fuckin' right, sunshine” his fist closes around your windpipe once more and his face and shoulder trap your elevated knee between them, other arm holding your stray leg down so his fingers can tickle your spread out cunt. Your body spasms at the sensation and your eyes lose their balance, the balls going into a disorder and your vision falters from them crossing in on themselves. “Tsk, look at you, gettin' off to a man twice your age giving a dry beating to your slutty little pussy” your mind disconnects from a gush of depraved euphoria overwhelming it and you breathlessly giggle at his words, nodding along to them mindlessly. “You are my stupid little cross eyed whore, aren't you?” His ears turn red and his own breaths get heavy because of how silly you look. 

You distantly nod, out of commission and ready to cum any moment now. 

“Hey” Lloyd cannot help but let you breathe when he taps your head back into focus. 

“H– Huh?” The heavy thumping of his heavy hand against your brain brings you back to the present moment and you confusedly blink up at him.

“Say it.” His jaw clenches from the sheer willpower it takes him to hold himself back from enacting the beastly urges that moments like these give him where he gets so overwhelmed that all he wants to do is to merge with you completely. “Say it how I like it, right now” Lloyd drops himself on a hand he places next to your head and the motion causes for his cock to hit your guts and you cry out a pained moan. “Let's fucking go.” His flared nose touches yours with a menace that sends a shiver down your spine. 

“I- I… ah!” Your orgasm burns out of you and you know what's coming after this. “I am— hnng!” Your back arches and your chin presses into his mustache as a result, your muscles clenching to put everything into the feeling of your high as you cry out and try to get away but Lloyd holds you down. “I am your stupid cross eyed pain mutt, Sir, please!” The cry you let out is blood curdling. 

“Good doggy” he pats your head in his typical condescending praise and it only makes you moan louder. “Even though your cum control still needs work, good doggy.” You whine in frustration. It is his acknowledgement to it. 

You're going to have to pay for it.

Lloyd is going to put you over his knee and give you a powerful spanking with your painted thighs spread open on display before you can hope to be excused for the day.

And there is not a thing you can do to get away from the wrath of your strict lover.

You are going to take it.

And you are going to love it.

Because what Lloyd wants, goes.

. . .

Someone get my masochistic ass off this site.

[trulyunholy]

rendezvous

matt murdock x f!reader

rating: mature, minors DNI

tags & warnings: literally just porn with no plot, vaginal sex, semi-public sex (kinda); this isn’t too explicit but it’s definitely still 18+; more notes at bottom of post

word count: 2.2k

Cool air and the sound of city life floated in through the cracked window of the office. It was dark, all the lights in the office turned off, the only illumination coming from the streetlights outside. You knew it was impossible to be seen here, but you still felt exposed, skirt pulled up and resting on your waist, panties lying somewhere on the floor.

Matt sat in his office chair, still fully clothed. Perched on top of him, knees bracing his thighs, the feeling of his slacks on your bare legs, you craved nothing more than to feel his skin on yours. You’d asked him to let you undress him, just unbutton his shirt, even, but he denied you. He always did.

“It’s about you,” he’d purred in your ear, sounding breathless and ragged. “Wanna focus on feeling you.”

And he did. The warmth in your stomach made its way up to your chest and down to your core as his hands wandered lazily under your blouse, up your back. The feeling of his breath on your neck made your heart race.

Nimble fingers unbuttoned your shirt, and he took his time with them, the ache in your core growing with each loosened inch of fabric. His hair tickled your jaw as he planted hot kisses up and down your neck, as he pulled your blouse off down your arms.

A satisfied sigh fell from your lips as you leaned your head back, granting him more access to your bare skin. His mouth worked a path from your neck down to your chest, laying slow, lazy kisses on your collarbones, the dip in between them, down to your sternum, before finally running his tongue over your breast. The hot expanse of his tongue on the sensitive nipple brought another moan from deep in your chest.

But frustration burst inside you when he pulled back after only a few short, sweet seconds.

“Get up,” he told you. It wasn’t a command, but it wasn’t quite a suggestion either.

You did so without question, though, and also turned to face away from him when he told you to. His hands were back on you in an instant when he wrapped his arms around you and nudged you forward until your hips hit the edge of his desk. With a hand flat on your back, he gently pushed you forward until you were pressed against the desk, only your elbows and his arms around you keeping you upright.

“Matt-”

He shushed you. His voice wasn’t harsh, but it was commanding in a way that made you want to do whatever he told you to do.

The hard wood of the desk was cold underneath the bare skin of your stomach, but it was smooth, firm, sturdy in a way you found comforting. Like you were always meant to be leaned over this man’s desk in complete undress at any time, day or night. You were absolutely willing to be, you were sure of that.

“Nobody else is here,” he reassured you, as if he could read your mind, read the worries in the tenseness of your muscles.

His hands were feather soft at your hips, and his fingers smooth as silk as he trailed two of them over the base of your spine. Your eyelids fluttered shut, and the whimper you made at the faintest touch was almost embarrassing. His left hand snaked around you while his right held his own weight on the desk. His mouth found your spine, and he softly kissed every bump on the way up to your neck. You could feel the heat of him pressing into you, and you were beginning to feel desperate in a way you’d never experienced before.

He was still fully clothed, you could feel the soft fabric of his shirt against your bare back, but it was somehow the most sensual thing you’d ever felt. You were falling apart and he hadn’t even really touched you yet.

“Please, Matt-“ you tried again, but nearly jumped when his voice was right in your ear.

“Patience is a virtue,” he whispered, ruffling your hair with his breath.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity leaned over his desk and staying as still as you could while he admired you, his hand found your throat. He pressed lightly, just the slightest amount of pressure, but it sent your head spinning. You could hear rustling behind you, and you couldn’t help but be impressed with the dexterity he had as you heard the slide of his belt and the quiet zip of his pants.

The pressure left your throat and his fingers ran through your hair in a gesture far gentler than you were expecting. It was silent for just a moment and you felt your lungs begin to burn as you realized you were holding your breath.

“Are you ready sweetheart?”

His voice was so soft behind you, so gentle, you could have easily lost it in the ambient noises coming in from the open window. You swallowed hard, a rush of nerves and excitement flooding your body.

You tried to speak clearly, to give him a clear “yes” or “of course” or “please,” but all you could manage was a ragged “uh-huh.”

Another second of anticipation built in your stomach. You didn’t know what was going on behind you, and you knew better than to peek or to ask. But then his hand trailed back down your spine and onto your stomach, sliding down, down, down, until his fingers found the wetness growing between your thighs. He gave a satisfied hum as his middle finger dipped lower, grazing over your clit and sending a shiver through your whole body.

“Mm,” he hummed again, and you could feel the heat of his skin on your ass as he pressed closer to you.

When he was as close to you as he could get, his grip on your thigh holding you close to him, he slid his finger inside of you. You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips. You felt filthy, having such a strong reaction to such a little touch. You felt him situate himself as he pulled his finger out, but you weren’t left empty for long. There was a pressure at your entrance as he pushed against you, a pleasant warmth that you felt yourself relaxing into.

And then you were seeing stars. With a single thrust he was skin to skin with you again, completely buried in your warmth.

“Oh, shit!” Breathless. Boneless. Suddenly nothing else in the world existed. “Fuck.”

Another moan, this time his, so close to your ear it made you jump.

“You okay?” he asked, his forehead leaned on your shoulder. As if he hadn’t just changed your entire life in one movement.

“Y-yes. Fuck!”

The slightest of movement from him and you whimpered again, the sheer feeling of Matt all the way inside you sending you closer to the edge.

“You feel so good,” he said, his voice low and ragged.

And holy shit, the thought of you having that effect on him- well it was almost too much to handle. When he pulled back out, the slow movement ripped another moan from your lips.

One of his hands reached around you again, this time cupping a breast, fingers running over the sensitive skin as he continued to thrust in, pull out, and repeat it all with a rhythm that had you shaking. It wasn’t long before you felt yourself climbing toward a climax.

“Shit, Matt, I-“ You wanted to fight it. You weren’t ready, didn’t want this to be over yet. “You’ve gotta stop or I’m gonna cum.”

“Good,” he answered, his voice nearly a growl, not letting up his pace at all. The sounds of skin on skin and the wetness between your legs were so loud and filthy you thought you might blush. “Give it to me, sweetheart.”

And you had no choice. You gave him everything you had to give. Your knees buckled and your elbows hit the desk, but you didn’t even notice over the stars shooting behind your eyes and the blood rushing through your body, from your heart to your ears, and it was all too much. The explosion was nothing short of euphoric.

And it had happened in a matter of minutes. Whenever you finally came back down, when you felt the sweat sticky on your skin, when you finally caught your breath, you opened your mouth. You weren’t sure what you were going to say, but you didn’t have a chance to say anything. Matt turned you around and captured your mouth with his again. His breathing was almost as heavy as yours,

In one unbelievably quick motion, he brought his office chair back behind him, sat down roughly, and pulled you closer until your shins were against him.

You gave yourself another moment to take him in, and he looked absolutely ruined. His face was flushed, he was breathing hard and fast, his face was needy, and my god, you had never been more attracted to him. He huffed, patted his hands on his thighs twice, and it was the only encouragement you needed.

More than eager, you joined him on the office chair again, knees straddled on thighs, arms wrapped around his neck. One of his hands went to the back of your head, so gentle as he led your forehead to his, eyes closed as he breathed fast. His other hand went to your hip, guiding you down at his pace. His face stayed close to yours, and you had a deliciously close view when his mouth fell open in pleasure as you fully seat yourself onto him. He groaned, a low, hot, ragged sound, and without thinking you buried your head into his neck, kissing and nibbling the soft skin without regard as you worked your body up and down.

A sharp tug on your hair stopped you abruptly, but all he said was, “No marks, still have work,” and then released your hair, throwing his head back into the chair.

The effect you had on this man was absolutely intoxicating. You were on top of him, riding him, kissing him, absolutely ruining him. You felt like you had so much power, though you knew he was the one allowing you to feel that way. Before you knew it, your next orgasm was on you.

You wanted to warn him, but you couldn’t get the words out, too tied up in your pleasure. You only stuttered a string of “please” and “yes” and “oh my god”s. His arms wrapped around you quickly though, as if he was trying to get as close to you as possible, and one hand was in your hair again and the other was on your back, and he groaned so beautifully and then choked out your name and said, “Please.”

And that was it. You were done for. For the second time tonight, you were gone. Your whole body went tense as the pleasure building up inside you finally snapped and filled every fiber of your being. And through your own intense pleasure you barely heard his hoarse cry, but suddenly you were on the floor, on your knees in front of him, and you were still contracting and clenching as his hand wrapped around his cock and stroked once, twice, and then he came, too, a wet heat on your chest that you felt spread down your stomach and onto your thighs.

Your muscles finally relaxed as you came down from your second high, and it took everything you had not to slump to the floor in a heap of boneless pleasure. It was in a haze that you saw Matt lean over to his desk, slide open a drawer and pull something out. Then he was on his knees in front of you, wiping his mess off of you with a handful of tissues.

“I’m sorry,” you heard him say through your haze, and your eyelids were getting heavy and you couldn’t figure out why he was apologizing.

“What’s wrong? Was that-?” You tried to wrack your brain for what could have possibly gone wrong.

“No, no,” he said quickly, and then his arms were around you again and he gently laid you back onto the floor. “I should’ve asked before I…well, it just snuck up on me, but I should’ve-”

You finally realized what he was talking about, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Don’t apologize. I liked it.”

He kissed you again before he laid back on the floor and wrapped his arms around you as you made yourself comfortable on his chest. You stayed like that for a while, both of you in a comfortable silence as the soft sounds of late night city life drifted in from the open window.

—

this is a first draft version of a scene that I cut out of no in-between, but I enjoyed writing it a lot so I thought I’d rework it a bit and share it. this is my first time really writing anything spicy/explicit, so I’m open to comments and constructive criticism. <3

[rey-jake-therapist]

We better get some real good Saurondriel content in the finale, because if the showrunners have been trolling and baiting us all this time and we’ll get Galadriel outright resisting Sauron and cast him away with Nenya or some Marvel-type sh*t, a huge chunk of their audience will be pissed.

I don’t understand what they are playing at here. Yeah, the kiss was strategic and not romantic, but wtf would they have that happening on-screen? No one will be happy about this scene, not the shippers (Elrond x Galadriel will), not the (actual) lorebros, and even the casuals might cringe. I would have picked a kiss between Galadriel and Adar any day, over this.

Ok, you may have seen my opinion on the kiss already : I don't mind it at all and I think it was very well done, in a way that there was no confusion possible about its nature. Now I can see many are confused anyway and it's understandable, but I found it the most platonic that a kiss on the mouth can be, and Galadriel's reaction said it all : "bro what?" was what her face said. She looked as stunned as if her own brother had kissed her. If you look closely it's very clear that he's gving her something, so she was also surprised by the subterfuge. And Elrond says, "forgive me," before doing it. Of course he's asking that because he regrets how he treated her, but I think it''s also a pre-apology for what he's going to do. To warn her that he's about to do something WEIRD and that she must play along.

It's quite confirmed by Morfydd Clark in the BTS interview : she said that Galadriel didn't think Elrond would be so bold (in the sense: bold enough to risk it all to allow her to escape, I think); when the interviewer expressed her surprise, Robert laughed goofily (he's so adorable, I can't). Then they were asked what he was doing, to which they answered: "he was giving her a pin!". End of story. There was no reason to talk about it more because it was all that it was.

So to be clear, I didn't intepret it at all as "Elrondriel baiting". Are there really many shippers, anyway? Everybody knows that Galadriel will become Elrond's mother-in-law, even the showrunners ackowledged that fact in an interview. Since the beginning their relationship is sibling-coded.

Why making it happening? Because otherwise the audience wouldn't understand how he gave her the pin in the first place. He couldn't put it in her hands because there was no way to do it discreetly. Kissing her was the only way, truly.

Personnally, I would have preferred it if it had been the Orc who discusses Adar's orders who would have released her, but well, they went for that instead... There was definitely a desire to surprise the audience and see their reaction. I must say my first reaction was a big "yikes!" because it really felt as watching two siblings kiss, and I'm pretty sure it was how most people reacted.

I keep seeing this kiss being accused of "breaking the lore", but it doesn't break anything. They didn't get married suddenly because Elrond kissed her to give her a pin... I must say that when I've read about the leak, I didn't believe it because in my view, it would make their relationship awkward and ambiguous. But I didn't imagine that it would happen in front of witnesses, because there was no other choice! For some reason, I thought that Elrond would sneak into Adar's camp and kiss her to give her the pin while he could give it to her in a completely different way. In this case, it would have felt awkward and would have inserted some unnecessary drama into a plot that doesn't need that.

An Adar/Galadriel wouldn't make any sense whatsoever, imho. Shipping them is very cool and fun, I found myself imagining scenarios where a romance between them could actually work, but it's not at all what the show is heading for.

No one can say how episode 8 will turn out, if it will be satisfying for the Haladriel shippers or not... We can now be quite certain that the kiss that Morfydd hinted at was this kiss, so there won't be a Saurondriel kiss. But is it really that surprising? We talked so much about the possibility that I caught myself hoping for it, but tbh I'll be content if their scene is emotional and isn't limited at "I hate you! I hate you more!" and useless fighting.

The only hope I have for Haladriel in episode 8 is that Galadriel realizes that Sauron didn't fake it all with her. I don't know how they'll manage that, but it's the most we can truly hope for, imho. The showrunners said episode 8 would be emotional... Now we just can wait and see!

[skylermadness]

Snack Shenanigans [A Side] (Scott Howl TF/TG/MC)

(Original Date of Upload: October 27, 2023)

Wow, it's been about a year since the last time I wrote an FtM TF/TG and so far both FtMs I've written back to back are into werewolf characters. I've been itching to write out another Scott Howl FtM for a while now so I decided to finally get off my butt and actually write one! I'm trying to go back to more simplistic plots and such so the set-up and such is a bit short but I don't mind it. I'm just glad to provide more jock character FtMs in the world. It's a fun little subgenre that there just isn't enough of! On a more interesting note, this is the first time I managed to complete a second self-imposed challenge on myself: giving a story an alt! This was an idea that I thought worked for multiple characters and decided why not reuse it for an alternative version of the story into a different story! If you want to read it (which is a TF into the character Gunzo from Tokyo Afterschool Summoners). That'll be uploaded later this week.

   One of the more prominent constants when it came to Madison's daily trips to her college campus were her visits to the cafeteria vending machines. And more often than not whenever she did she would typically buy the exact same thing from the machine’s array of snack foods. Most of her freshman year in college was spent buying out the machine’s mini-sandwich cookie stock, but she eventually grew tired of those and switched over to either chips or chocolate bars depending on her mood that week. With all things considered her trips to the vending machine were short, simplistic, and unchanging.

   That was until today anyway. Madison found herself staring through the machine’s glass in curiosity, her eyes instantly scrutinizing a change in the machine’s selection. Usually the item labeled 206 was some random bag of chips whose brand she didn’t care to memorize since it wasn’t the kind she ordered. However she knew that what occupied that label wasn’t the brand she didn’t remember. Rather it seemed to be something new and unfamiliar to the woman.

   The bag was simply labeled Scott Snacks with a fairly simple graphic of a bunch of potato chips with what she presumed to be the bag’s mascot (a thick bearded and fluffy haired man) giving a thumbs up. On one hand, the bag did look fairly generic. Then again most chip bags have that feel so it didn’t fully matter to Madison. She couldn’t really discern any other details from the bag such as flavor, but at the same time the graphic gave the vibe of either something plain or something cheesy. Neither prospects were ones she was against, especially since in the end all of this was just an excuse for her to deaden her appetite for the remainder of her classes. 

   With her mind made up Madison made the order with the vending machine. A satisfying thunk could be heard as the bag was pushed forward off the conveyor and into the machine’s pick-up box. She always despised when things got stuck in the vending machine, it was always a slightly embarrassing hassle…

   Successfully retrieving her snack, she idly placed it into her backpack before hauling it onto her back and making her way out of the cafeteria. Madison disliked eating around other people she was unfamiliar with, the woman much rather preferring to find a nice quiet seat on one of the hallway benches and eating whatever she retrieved there. A short trek and a turn would lead her to her favorite spot of solitude (barring the occasional person who would walk out the elevator beside the bench). Placing her backpack beside her as she took a seat she removed the bag of unfamiliar chips from its confines and opened it. Casually she leaned her back against the wall behind her, finally opening the bag of chips and taking one out.

   Considering the unfamiliarity of the situation, Madison had deemed it necessary to eye up the singular chip for a good few seconds. Standard looking potato chip, orange dust that denotes a cheese flavor, some flecks of salt. Although as these exact terms roamed through her head she realized that she somehow sounded like some kind of chip elitist. So in the end she just disregarded her concerns and placed the chip in her mouth.

   …yup, very cheesy. Even has a bit of a meaty aftertaste as well. It wasn’t actually that bad. Perhaps this was a sign she could add a third snack into her vending machine rotation!

   With those thoughts in her mind Madison continued eating, the woman blissfully unaware of the changes starting to form on her body as she did. It was rather isolated at first. The fingers on both hands slowly got thicker, ends and nails getting more blunt with each passing second. This evidently continued as her fingers continued to grow in thickness with a similar shift in size quickly jumping to the hands themselves. A firm meatiness steadily accumulating within each hand; larger, bulkier, seemingly more powerful in appearance.

   That wasn’t the weirdest part of this transformation however. That came when something coarse started to poke out of the back of her hand. It was short at first with what looked to be follicles only millimeters in length, but it didn’t take long for them to grow out and quickly overtake the backs of each hand. What had rapidly sprouted from each hand were large amounts of dark brown hairs. This new development practically gives a more defined masculine feel to her already larger and almost blockier hands.

   Evidently this supposedly masc appearance was one that would quickly spread beyond her wrists and beneath the sleeves of her sweater. Her musculature was the first that began to get affected. A mild heat surged through them as a steady thickness slowly burgeoned within each arm. Raw strength building up in each limb and filling their once slender appearance with a now dense and much more powerful look to them. It wasn't long until the sleeves of her sweater began filling out and the outlines of her muscles etched into the fabric.

   The warmth in Madison's arms only grew more prominent as well with the hairiness of her hands quickly trailing up to her forearms. Heavy amounts of brown hairs coating their way across the back of each arm, the density of this forest of almost fur-like hairs getting more and more thick the closer it got towards her elbows. This steady increase in arm hair density would soon result in a thick tuft of arm hair that practically spiked out of each forearm. Unfortunately for the time being it would seem this major growth would remain hidden in her sleeves.

   Less dense, albeit still very prominent, arm hair growth continued as it made its way to her upper arms and shoulders to coat the outer sections of them with ease. It was also by now that some of the more major muscle groups had gotten their almost instant workout with her biceps having bulked up alongside her triceps. The broadness of Madison's shoulders increased drastically as the deltoid muscles developed and rounded out even more. By this point the almost fragile seaming of her sweater began to break, tears forming against the new brawniness of her arms and revealing bits of her new coat of hair.

   The sudden sounds of tearing finally alerted her to the changes, Madison placing the chip she was holding in her mouth before inspecting the source of the sound. Her eyes widened. "Wh-huh…? What happened to my arm?? And is that… hair…?"

   Her gaze trailed downwards, the woman inspecting one arm up until she laid eyes on her hands. "How long have they been like that!?"

   A part of her wanted to panic but something about the sight was just intriguing. She held a changed hand up in front of her, looking at the thickness and hairiness of it all. It was a little uncanny, especially with all the chip dust, but it looked firm. Strong.

   While Madison preoccupied with staring at her hand the changes in her physical form only continued. It didn't take long for everything to move beyond her shoulders. The two waves of transformation quickly crashed into each other at the midline of her chest and from there expanded even more across the woman's body. 

   The overall width of Madison's frame was probably the next thing to start changing, her form broadening out and shifting to dispel her usually skinny figure more. This type of change got more prominent as her chest became the next part of her body to get altered. While the hair continued its spread and coating her chest, the fatty tissue of her breasts began to melt off and slowly flatten them. As it did so the muscles beneath them began to grow, swelling out rapidly to the point it would almost appear that her breasts hardened into thick meaty slabs of pectorals. These newly developed muscles would quickly grow to fill up the upper portion of her sweater, her now more masculine cleavage denting into the fabric.

   The lower half of her body followed not long after as it too was changing. Her abdomen churned, bubbling almost as abdominal muscles steadily rose from her skin. They slotted out almost sequentially with row after row extending out until she had been granted a six-pack set of abs. All the while the hair that had coated her chest was cascading downwards, the coarse brown fuzz rapidly consuming her abdominal region. By this point the frontal portion of her body just looked like it had a darker shade than the back due to all this hair. And as the hair trailed to the sides she could feel her oblique muscles begin to burn a bit, alongside some cramping inside her that took her focus off her hands so she could use them to support her abdomen as she bent forward in mild pain.

   "A-agh-" she winced, the sound of her voice seeming to crack only momentarily playing in her ears. She started to realize just how tight her shirt was getting, and she presumed it wouldn't be long until everything else would change to fit whatever form she was taking. A light haze was also entering her mind, thoughts steadily becoming a little bit harder as all these changes were overtaking her form. Curiosity faded to confusion, and that confusion quickly jumped to worry as she was still conscious enough to realize she didn't want to rip out of her shirt in a public hallway.

   Madison ultimately decided to forgo her backpack and the rest of the chips to her side, then lifted herself up from the bench and hastily made her way around the hallway's corner in order to head into the nearest bathroom. Luckily it was unoccupied, so she just rushed in there and locked the door before heading to the mirror. Although it would seem she didn't notice that she had subconsciously rushed into the men's room…

   Staring at herself in the mirror she came to the slow realization of just how large she had become. Not just in width but also in height as she evidently looked a little taller, especially with the hem of her sweater rising up her body. That and the slightly prominent feel of decompression in the woman's spine that seemed to grow more and more. Then there was this building pressure at the base of her spine that only continued to grow in prominence the more she continued to stare in the mirror. That coupled with the sight of more hair growing up her neck and beneath her jaw all made for this experience to feel even more surreal than it did prior.

   Madison raised her head a bit and scratched the scruff on her neck. "A-ahh…" she let out a light breath. It felt a little good to finally scratch that fuzz after all this time. It helped clear her brain up just a bit, but it inevitably filled back up with fog. All she could do was stare at herself in the mirror and scratch herself, her only statement being, "Just… what is happening to me?" She asked that with a smile however. There just felt like nothing to distress over. Not the weird muscular form she had, or the increase in hairiness, or the fact her voice continued to shift to a point that sounded deeper and more laid-back. 

   She didn't even feel the need to worry over hearing the back of her pants suddenly split open, a tail with thick brown fur seeming to have almost instantly elongated from her spine's tailbone and freed itself from the confines of her legwear. All she did was look behind her as something in her brain seemed to click with the new appendage. She curled it up towards her and gently grabbed it with her free hand. All the while a goofy grin had formed on her face. "I have a tail now!? Cool!"

   All during this sequence of events, the changes were also making their progression down to Madison's legs. This section of the transformation mirrored that of her arms, muscle mass easily packing into both sections of her legs with a quick pacing. Thighs grew thicker with bulkier hamstrings and quadriceps, and she could feel a surge of heat flare up in her calves as they bloated up with muscle mass as well. Her height continued to increase as well, and the brown hairs rapidly rushed downwards to encompass the surface area of her legs. All of this combined contributed to her jeans feeling severely more constricted, a few tears forming in the sides as a result.

   What followed were the changes in her feet. While hair emerged from the bridge of her feet, the overall size of them steadily increased in all directions. They got wider, pushing up against the sides of her shoes easily. And they got longer, heels digging into the back of her footwear while her toes pressed up against the front. It wouldn't take very long for them to grow to a fitting proportion for her new body, their appearance having quickly altered to fit the more rugged and masculine look that Madison now was possessing. It resulted in her shoes having immense trouble containing her larger feet with a couple rips already forming across the sides.

   The last person of her physical form that remained unchanged was her face, but as Madison started to see and feel the soft pricks of hair poking out her skin she knew that wasn't going to last long. 

   "B-bro!" she casually yelled out to no one in particular, her voice now settling into that aforementioned laid-back and male cadence that had been etching into it this whole time. "Guess I'll be getting a beard next! Might as well start considering myself a guy at this point!"

   The very thought of that was appealing to him. If anything, it felt like the always correct assumption. For some reason something about this new form felt so good and so much more correct now! It was as if it should have always been him!

   He continued to stare into the mirror, a look of enjoyment on his face as he saw the brown fuzz continuing to grow out his chin. This fuzz grew thicker and thicker, and it's spread expanded across his jawline rapidly. From the middle, trailing up his sides, slowly connecting to the slight sideburns he possessed. As his beard got more dense and bushy it gained an almost spiky styling as well. All the while his jawline shifted beneath it, broadening and chiseling out into a more square shape.

   If anything it would seem Madison's entire face shifted to gain a more masculine appearance. Skull widening for a broader structure, nose enlarging slightly, a certain level of toughness formulating across his skin. Bits of his beard even poked out from his jawline and onto his face in order to grow on a small portion of his cheeks. There even came a set of even stranger changes to his head's physicality such as his ears lengthening and sharpening to a point, or the hairs on his eyebrows increasing in amount drastically to gain a similar level of spiked bushiness that his beard possessed. There had also seemed to be a level of sharpness entering much of his teeth as well.

   All while these changes occurred, his hair was in the process of shifting and restyling to fit his new body. It had already begun to shorten as his beard was beginning to grow, and it continued to do so as his beard got more prominent and his face continued to change. Slowly it went up from being shoulder length to trailing up the nape of his neck to being of equal length with his chin, and it still got shorter as time continued. All the while the waviness of it was straightened, and the dark blonde coloration was deepened to the same brown as the rest of his body and facial hair. By the time his hair got to what the transformation seemed as an acceptable length, its density seemed to shift into something fur-like before bits of it fluffed and stuck out into a thick and messy spiky style. One that he just couldn't resist running a hand through to just feel the fluffiness of his hair.

   "This is so cool, dude…" he said, watching his hair spike back up after getting run through by his hand. And the man only continued to poke and prod at bits of his body by scratching his beard, scritching himself behind his ear, and giving his muscles some good flexes. He even couldn't help from tearing open his sweater from the front to let his pecs and abs breathe. Everything about this body felt so new, but at the same time the cloud in his mind was making it seem so familiar as well.

   Shouldn't this be his body? Why was it so hard to even recall what his other body was like? Did he even have another body? If this body is so familiar it just must be his, right?!

   He could feel his eyes beginning to drift to the side in confusion. "Ooh, too many questions in my brain! Is this what happens when you think too much…"

   For some reason he really felt like he wasn't used to using his brain for extended periods of time. If he were to be honest everything about it just felt drained! Like so many aspects has been dulled down or simplified in himself. All of this was making the concept of having an identity prior to this one feel so fleeting and incorrect. He just wanted to completely disregard it as too complicated. A lot of things just felt complicated at this point.

   He braced himself on the bathroom sink, mind in complete confusion to the point he wasn't keeping track of what was going on with his clothing. His attire had seemed to finally start to shift.The sleeves of his sweater slowly lifted upwards to unveil the dense fluff of his forearms, the rips all sealed themselves while the tear he made down the middle of his shirt restitched itself to look like it was meant to be there. The coloration of the sleeves bleached to white while the wrists shifted to red, meanwhile the actual body of the sweater shifted to the same shade of red. Buttons and eyelets lined the split while a small white and red-striped collar raised from the neck. With the formation of pockets on each side of the newly shifted clothing, it seemed his sweater had altered into a varsity jacket. Meanwhile a plain white t-shirt materialized beneath it and around his body, its size being just baggy enough to still reveal the upper portion of his chest.

   Following this came the less impressive changes in his legwear and footwear. His jeans just grew a bit to better fit his legs while repairing themselves. The tear in the back also restitched to look intentional, seemingly becoming a hole for his tail that went beneath the belt loop. His shoes did go through a bit more drastic of a change, also growing and repairing while the sides brightened to a red and the soles and front became white. The cloth toughened up as the strings became straps, fully shifting his footwear into a pair of athletic sneakers. 

  ��The man's thoughts continued to simplify as his earlier concerns were constantly drained away. Thoughts of a former identity and life disappearing, the rising worries about them being dispelled as he couldn't even remember what he had to be worried about! All that mattered was football and hanging out with his bros after all! Nothing to worry about from that!

   It was also by this point that his identity fully solidified. Scott Howl!

   Wait, is he telling himself to howl?

   "AWWROOOOOOOOO!!!" he howled out, the sound echoing through the small one-person bathroom. Once it was all let out he opened his eyes, a nice royal blue having embedded within them.

   "Oh wait, I was just thinking about my last name!"

   One of Scott's ears flicked as he heard someone knock on the bathroom door. "Uhhh, I'm taking it this is occupied?"

   The werewolf made his way to the entrance and opened it. "Was just finishing up with… whatever I was doing!"

   The comment made the guy who was on the other side of the bathroom door somewhat confused, but between that and the fact they were facing a large hairy man with a tail this whole situation was already feeling weird. "What were you doing… howling??"

   Scott just smiled and ruffled the other man's hair. "Sometimes you just have to let one out, y'know?" He then moved past them and made his leave. The random man just watched him leave, both unaware that the burly football player's interaction with him had left an almost pitch black stain in the follicles of the man's hair that very slowly spread across it. But they just shook their head and walked into the bathroom, deciding to just disregard the strange interaction.

   Meanwhile, Scott made his way down the hall before his heightened sense of smell caught a whiff of something… cheesy? Meaty? His head turned to find a bag of chips labeled Scott Snacks beside a backpack on top of a bench. For some reason his brain registered both as his own.

   "Oh, can't forget about these!" He walked over to the bench and hauled up the backpack to his back before picking up the bag of chips. Popping one in his mouth he comments, "This'll make a great snack before practice!" before going about his day…

[hydrasshole]

[wannabemylover]

rewatching the first episode of Hannibal and holy shit I forgot how good this is but it's actually insane that Brian fuller set up the ep like this, he introduces will and Hannibal by first briefly showing them at their core, at the darkest, most vile part of them---we get a glimpse behind the curtain---and then its gone, the curtain is snapped shut and we see their masks, their human suits.

Will empathizes with killers because he likes it, and he wants to kill but he refuses to give into the urge because he knows how much he'll like it and he won't be able to stop. So he lives vicariously through other killers, satisfying his own dark urge by feeding it little morsels of secondhand blood lust. Every crime scene he works gives the urge something that satisfies it, not enough for it to grow, but enough for it be sate. Enough that he can ignore it for long enough that he can walk around and be Professor Will Graham who is Weird, Brash, and Non-sociable.

And Hannibal is a cannibal at night and a psychiatrist by morning.

[oaksapling]

Nikita 'Nicky' Jackson

Rory's succubus best friend who acts more like their spoiled little sister most of the time. She dabbles in a bit of everything but makes most of her money working at the diner and variety streaming. She's a Widow/Ana main with bad attitude.

[pink-lemonadefairy]

let me roam a department store in the couple hours before it closes while i wear headphones and listen to jazz music and i’ll be happy for the rest of my life

[straydogged]

I've had a very productive day :3 so I feel good about resting for the evening and not thinking about any school stuff

[kellystar321]

.

[alsaurus-loves-dean]

.

[bulletbilltime]

Between Ethel Cain's Preacher's Daughter, Shisumo's Bookstore Max AU, and whimsicalcotton's polluted marrow Max AU (and let's be real pretty much all of Life is Strange 1 & True Colors), I am noticing that I may be latching on to stories about traumatized ppl more than may be healthy

[moobloombea]

.

[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.