In love with @dreamwritesimagines Geralt writing, #fanfiction ~ more in love with #Michael Rooker ~ #Merle or #Yondu. Also #Loki #Drax #Kraglin #Kpop #Anime ... Look forward to writing for all sexy men
I looked back from the rooftop door. Merle was still handcuffed there, screaming for someone to come back, pulling hard on his restraints.
My heart racing, I turned back to T-Dog. âGimme the key!â
He didnât hear me at first so I yelled again.
He frowned at me as if I was crazy. âWhat? Come on, we gotta go!â He kept descending the stairs.
My frustration and fear grew. I felt stuck in place, between freedom and mercy. On the one hand would anyone really miss Merle if he died? His brother maybe. Then I put myself in Darylâs shoes and reconsidered. Merleâs increasingly desperate cries for help won out.
âGimme the damn key! I donât care if heâs a dick, I canât leave anyone to die like that!â I reached my hand out to T-Dog, one hand keeping the door open. For a moment it looked like he was going to ignore me and keep going. I felt the desperation in my own body increase. It didnât matter the kind of person Merle was, it was inhumane to leave a person to starve to death, even if the walkers didnât reach him.
Finally, T-Dog reached into his pocket and pressed the key into my hand. I dropped my bag in the doorway as I ran back to Merle.
Someone called out to me from the stairs but I couldnât hear them over the sound of my own breaths.
The relief that washed over Merleâs face told me Iâd made the right choice. âSweet baby Jesus. You came back for me. Quick! Unlock it! Thatâs it. Come on.â
I kneeled down in front of Merle, leaning over to see better.
He grabbed my waist with his free hand, pulling me into a straddle over his lap. I gasped and almost dropped the key.
âFor godâs sake Merle! I nearly dropped the key.â I tried to move away but he held me tight.
Weâd met shortly after the downfall. He and Daryl joined the group and Merleâs made sexual advances every day since. Although he was touchy and flirty, he never pushed or pressured for more.
A tiny part of me liked his attention. Maybe it was my inadvertent attraction to red flag men, I didnât know but what I did know was that my pride stopped me from letting him get into my knickers. Iâd never hear the end of it. The others would never approve.
Iâd hoped he would prove himself before I let him bed me, only it hadnât happened and now we were hereâŠ
We were hereâŠalone.
No, I had to free him and we had to go. I shouldnât even be thinking about sex at a time like thisâŠ
As if Merle could sense my thoughts, he smirked as the cuffs clinked free. His other arm was quick to slip around my waist.
âHey, uh, since weâre here, howâs about we have a little fun, eh?â His hands traveled up and down my back, teasing the hem of my jeans over my ass. My heart race quickened but not because of the walkers.
âEven if I wanted to, which I donât, we wouldnât have time. The others are waiting.â Again I pushed against him to no avail. A hardness pressed up into my jeans just then and I stopped.
âYou sure about that?â He teased, pressing me down onto his erection. I gasped softly.
âMerle. We have to go.â I said softly, trying to calm myself and get him to see reason.
âAll I need is 2 minutes.â Merle pulled me closer, leaning up to move his face closer to mine. Was he about to kiss me?
â2 minutes is too long. The others are waiting. Theyâll come back up any second now, wondering where I am.â
âBaby, theyâve left us. They woulda been up here by now otherwise.â His fingers reached in front of us and slowly worked the button of my jeans. I let him and he continued to unzip my jeans, trace his fingers over the front of my underwear.
At this point there was almost no denying my lust for him, letting him touch me like this.
âI knew it. I knew from the moment I met ya.â He gently pressed his lips to mine and my eyes closed against the feel of his soft yet dry lips.
âShut up, Merle.â I murmured against his mouth.
âStand for me, baby.â He pulled back just slightly to look at my face.
For a moment I didnât move. I contemplated whether to stand as he said or stand and go to the door. He didnât push me to move, just let me sit in my thoughts for a moment. Maybe he could tell I was thinking about letting him have me.
I pushed against him and stood, taking a step back. He shuffled forward, worked his jeans off just enough to release his cock, already dripping with pre cum. It looked so inviting.
âTake em off, sugar. Come on.â His tone was teasing, soft but full of lustful hunger. He was about to get a meal heâd been craving for months.
I kept eye contact with Merle as I shoved my jeans off, awkwardly kicking my shoes off with them. I kept my knickers on. They were nothing fancy, plain black with a tiny pink bow on the front hem but by the way he looked at them youâd think they were a lacy thong.
He reached out for me and I went back to my position, hovering over his erection. He wasted no time in slipping his fingers under the fabric, caressing my wet folds and shoving 2 fingers inside, in and out, savouring the feel of me.
âHowâre you so wet, already? Been aching for this dick ainât ya?â He held the fabric aside with one hand, holding my waist with the other, he guided his dripping dick to my hole.
âDonât get so cocky, Merle.â I taunted as the head pushed against me.
I expected him to shove me down on it, instead he went slow, agonisingly and I squeezed myself around the bulbous head of his cock.
âGod, your pussy feels like a dream, girl.â His voice was husky, his breath of stale cigarettes but I didnât care. I was too aroused to care about much right then.
He held my waist and slid me down until I was full. His girth stretched me just enough that it hurt but felt amazing too. I moaned at the feel of it throbbing inside me.
âYa like that? Huh?â He grunted against my lips, kissing me as he began to thrust erratically, guiding my hips with both hands he bounced me on his cock.
âFuck, Merle.â I held onto his shoulders as my core tightened already.
âThatâs my name, darlinâ.â He grunted into my neck. His breaths becoming just as rapid as mine. He was close too.
I ground down onto him, realising with a start that the others could have left by now. They may not have waited for me.
âMerle, we have to hurry.â My voice came out breathless.
I gasped as he shoved himself deeper into me, his hands holding me firm on my hips, as he throbbed, spilling his cum into me.
At the same time he filled me, my orgasm came to a head too. The mixing sensations sending me over. I gripped onto his shoulders as he held onto me.
Breathless and coming down from our high, Merle chuckled softly under his breath.
âAlways knew you had a thing for me.â He winked, wrapping his arms around me briefly. I could already him going flaccid, his cum dripping between us.
âDonât get cocky, Merle.â I muttered as I shifted to stand on shaky legs. My groin was soaked in our juices but I had nothing to clean up with so I shoved my clothes back on, grimacing at the cold.
Merle watched, wide-eyed but said nothing as he got up and dressed too.
âCome on! They couldâve left by now!â I grabbed his hand and pulled him to the door. From here, noises of commotion floated up to us. God, weâd wasted so much time.
As we sprinted down the stairs, our earlier escapade forgotten, we met with T-Dog and Rick fighting to get back up the stairwell.
Rick saw us first. âCome on!â He yelled. âWhat took you so long?â He growled, taking down a walker.
âIâll explain later, letâs just get out of here!â
We finally make it to the van, Rick fighting his way to the driver door. Meanwhile Merle and I stumbled into the back.
Everyone was breathing hard but no one relaxed.
Andrea watched us for a moment before asking, âwhat took so long? We almost died waiting for you.â She glared at Merle as she said that last part.
I spoke up before Merle could. âThe key jammed in the cuffs. I had to break him out.â
âWaste of time.â Morales muttered.
Merle laughed. I glared at him. âYeah, thatâs what happened.â He smirked at me but said nothing else.
(When ur kiss with them turns into a full-blown make-out until someone walks in) (Romantic, gn reader)
It was accidental kiss. But then, one second youâre just catching your breath â next, youâre pressed up against a wall or couch or the floor, and their hands are everywhere but respectful. And of course⊠someone always walks in.
Leonardo
The kiss deepens. Itâs slow, burning, as if he was waiting too long for the perfect moment. The embers of a fire thatâs been waiting forever to ignite. Youâre gripping the edge of his plastron, pulling him closer. Heâs got one hand on your waist, the other trembling on your cheek
And then â boom.
ââŠLeonardo.â
He freezes. Back stiff. Lips still ghosting over yours. You slowly look past his shoulderâ
Splinter is standing in the doorway. Dead silent.
Leo practically teleports away from you.
âSENSEIâ! IâI was justââ
âYes. I saw.â
âIt wasnâtâ I mean, it was, but notâ!â
Splinter sips his tea.
âTrain harder. Youâll need more focus next time.â
And walks away.
You snort. Leo dies inside, not being able to look at you this time
Raphael
Itâs intense. Hot. Heâs got you against a wall, your hands tangled around his neck, his grip rough on your waist. Heâs kissing you like itâs the last time heâll ever get the chance. You canât breathe â and you donât want to.
And then, suddenly
âRAPHâ?! What the actualââ
Raph turns his head, lips still slightly on your neck.
âWhat?! Iâm busy!â
âI can see that! In the middle of the dojo?! Really?!â
âYou walked in. Thatâs your fault.â
You hide your face. Donnie flees. Raph just smirks and goes âNow where were we?â
Donatello
It was supposed to be one kiss. Maybe two. Now youâre both sitting on his bed, your legs over his, his bo forgotten on the floor. Youâre straddling him, and the way heâs kissing you âcareful, desperate, like you might disappear âis enough to melt every inch of you.
Thenâ
âDudeâWHOAâSORRYâ!â
Donnie gasps so hard he headbutts you by accident.
âOWâDonnie!â
âI DIDNâT MEAN TOâWAITâGET OUTâ!â
âIâM ALREADY GONE BRO GOOD LUCK!!â
You both collapse in laughter. Donnieâs face is red for days.
Michelangelo
Youâre laughing, lying on the couch, and suddenly Mikeyâs on top of you, kissing the air out of your lungs. It starts fun âthen it gets heavy. Hands. Tongue. Teeth.
You moan his name once, and he loses it. He kisses you like heâs starving. And thenâ
âWHAT THEââ
âOH COME ON, NOT ON THE COUCHâ!â
Mikey doesnât even stop. He just yells:
âCLOSE THE DOOR OR JOIN IN, GUYS!â
âMIKEYâ!â
He throws the nearest pillow at them
Been felling sad and wanted something super fluffy, so decided to write dis. And yeah, for everyone who requested, Iâm so sorry, I didnât have energy to do ur request, but I hope Iâll get better latelyđ it might be a little short guys. So yeah go kiss ur turtle!!
A.N: Do you guys want another part or is this just a horrible oneshot made by my daddy issues?
Summary: Being Sigurd's wife, you were used to him arguing with his younger brother, but when things get too far, you somehow end up being forced to marry Ivar.
TW: Forced marriage (?), SA, curse words, violence, abuse, bit of spitting. Generally a lot of heavy stuff that a lot of people aren't comfortable with.
You hated him. Absolutely. And you were sure he reciprocated the feeling, but his big fat ego and pride led you to this moment.
You had only bitten back a smile when Ivar and Sigurd were fighting, just after you had gotten married to the latter. It was a marriage of convinience for the both of you, knowing Sigurd wasn't at all interested in females and you wanted to escape the countless men thirsting after you.
Sigurd wasn't the easiest, but you had bonded with him throught your love for music. And next thing you knew, Ivar had grabbed you by the throat, a knife to your throat.
You were just a way for him to release his rage and grief. But when Sigurd spoke up and told him to leg you go, the usual snarky tone prominent in his voice it seemed to set the younger Viking off even more. Before your husband could laugh at his smart insult at his brother, prodding the matter that hurt him the most, he was laying at the floor motionless, his eyes empty of light and no sing of life in his limp body.
And so Ivar married you. He grieved Sigurd, you could see the regret and realisation in his eyes, but his stupid rage blinded him once again. You knew denying him would mean joining your friend, but a death like that would never get you in Valhalla.
Ivar paused, seeing you sitting on the bed already when he entered your bedroom. He closed the door behind him but by the time he turned around, you had gotten close to him, one hand grasping his tunic.
"What are you doing?" He took in a sharp breath, his eyes going back and forth on your hand and eyes.
"It's our marriage night, My Prince."
He hummed in acknowledgement at your statement, understanding the situation, but he still seemed confused. "Did my brother touch you?"
That made you pause. Being smart about it would only get him angry, you knew better than defend Sigurd right now. "Ivar, Sigurd was... not interested."
"Was that your fault?"
"My Prince, I think you are aware of what your brother's... preferences were. I think he wouldn't be interested in any woman." You stopped him before the conversation could progress, and your lips softly touched his only for a moment before you pulled away and locked your gazes.
He bit his bottom lip, seemingly aware that you didn't do this because you actually cared about him. He just wanted to believe you, and it made everything a lot easier.
He initiated another kiss, just as soft as the other one and let his hands rest on your waist and pull you into him. You almost forgot who he really was, meeting softness you could have never guessed this man was ever capable of. He was anxious everytime your lips parted, they wouldn't meet again even as his tongue entered your mouth and started to explore it.
You gripped the knife behind your back tighter, preparing to stab him. Albeit a Viking, you weren't a very good warrior, prefering to go on raids rarely and only to take care of people and get inspiration for your music. Stabbing Ivar like this... if you didn't succeed right away you would face horrible consequences. You barely missed his neck as he moved and lost his balance, landing right in top of you on the floor as the knife fell on some far away corner of the room.
"What the fuck do you think you are doing?!" He yelled, his composure long lost. To think those soft kisses were only a lie so you could kill him... you weren't any better than him, you were not the prideful woman you presented yourself as, but a cunning, manipulative bitch.
"That's right. He wouldn't be interested in anybody with a smaller cock than his. And you don't even have one." He laughed, remembering your previous conversation. "You found your husband funny, no? You laughed at his last joke. I am your husband now, but you don't seem very amused."
"You are a bad joke, cripple." You muttered, titling your head to meet his eyes. The sadistic smile on his face didn't give it away, but you could see the anger behind his eyes.
They were so blue, so beautiful, but so cruel.
"Am I not man enough for you? Is that it? But my brother was?" He gritted his teeth as he pulled on your hair, forcing your head back. "Answer me."
You spat on his face, but he only wipped it off, amusement and hate prominent in his features. "You laughed when he called me impotent, perhaps I should show you otherwise. It is our wedding night after all, you said so yourself."
"Don't touch me--" He raised himself enough to flip you around under him, your face now against the furs on the floors.
"Or what? You will try to stab me? Who would justify your murder, just because I wanted to touch you on our wedding night?"
"Ivar-- Ivar please-!" You inhaled sharply, trying to contain the tears in your eyes as he ripped the back of your dress and pressed his clothed erection against your bare ass.
Ivar was shocked himself. He really did think he was impotent, he never lusted over a woman like his brothers, and the Margrethe incident didn't help his insecurities. So why did you, a woman that barely had any experience herself and tried to kill him have him hard because of a few kisses.
His wife, he reminded himself. He just wanted to scare you at first, but now he actually wanted-- needed to feel you. It felt like he knew what he was doing as he let his hand wander from your hair down your body and to your pussy, feeling the slightly wet area. He felt you shiver as he kissed your neck and slowly pushed two fingers inside you, the hands he had pinned on top of your head now struggling against his grip again.
"Unless you want me to finish inside you until I am sure you are bearing my heir, stop fighting against me, wife." Even he questioned his own actions. He could just use your velvety thighs, or just push himself inside you and be done with it.
So why was he, a man that detested you kissing your neck trying to get you wet and open you up, and savoring every little sound you tried so hard to bite back? It didn't make sense.
In reality, it hurt. Your wrists were sure to bruise from his grip, his teeth nibbling on your neck clumsily felt weird and your whole body hurt on the furs, his whole weigh holding you down. The tears you held back hurt the most of all, along with the sounds of pleasure fighting to escape you as his fingers moved inside you.
"Ivar..." You meant to insult him, but it only came out as a meowl of his name as he rubbed against you. You could feel his disgusting smirk against your neck at the clench of your walls around his fingers.
"If I didn't know any better I would say you are enjoying this." He groaned as you raised your hips in an attempt to roll him over and slammed you down, roughly biting your neck.
Your gasped in pain, your nails digging in his hands. He licked over the bite and took his fingers out of you to line himself up against you.
"Stop, stop please. Ivar, w-we can learn to get along and make this work, I know you didn't actually want to marry me because you care about me. Please don't do this." You begged him, but didn't dare to meet his gaze this time.
"Should have thought about that sooner princess." He mumbled and pushed himself inside you slowly, his eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head at the feeling of your walls hugging perfectly around him.
"Y-You bastard!" You groaned and finally freed your arms and clenched the furs under you. He started moving slowly, testing the waters and you couldn't hold the tears in anymore. You let them run down, sniffling and whimpering more the harder and deeper he went.
His tongue sweeped across your cheek, wipping the salty liquid away from your face but that only made you cry harder. It hurt, but the fact it felt good and that Ivar was the one doing this were far wprse than the physical pain you were feeling.
"F-Fuck."He groaned m, his thrusts getting sloppy. You didn't even bother -or trust yourself- to plead him to pull out, the screams you held under your tears at the knot in your belly tightening would spill out right away if you tried to speak.
"Open your mouth." He panted, and seeing as you ignored his command he forced your jaw open and held your tongue down with two fingers. He spat in your mouth and closed it, watching you closely. "Swallow." You did as he said this time, gagging at the spit that went down your throat combined with all the crying.
"Do you want my seed?" He bit his bottom lip, he obviously knew the answer to that, but he wanted to hear you.
"Ivar, no!" You screamed, and he pulled your head back. You hiccuped, shaking your head 'no'. He grabbed your hair and asked again, his hips rutting into you desperately.
"I don't care." He mumbled and thrust particularly hard inside you, sending jolts of pain and pleasure all over your body. Your own orgasm silently overtook you no matter how hard you tried to deny it, the feeling of your clit brushing against the fur and his warm seed filling you up send you over the edge.
He moved off of you and laid on his back next to you, confused by your reaction. He had passed countless warriors raping women, and every single one screamed and cried, and hit them, but you were quiet. He sighed and brushed your hair out of your face, meeting your tear stained face and puffy eyes.
You sniffled, shaking harder than before as you buried your face in his hand and leaned against the light touch. His breath hitched in his throat at the gesture. You didn't even seem to recognise that he was the one that hurt you. You just moved into him, desperately trying to hide in his embrace in an attempt to feel safe.
And against his better judgement, once more, he let you do whatever you want. Affection was something only his mother had ever showed him, and she wasn't the type to show it throught physical touch. He needed the soft touches, even though they felt foreign, the way his body tingled under your touch was more than enjoyable.
Strange how after he did something like this to you, he felt the need to protect you and take care of you. His guilt was nearly eating him alive while he watched you, passed out in his arms. How did the marriage he only agreed to out of spite and to end some rumors turn out like this?
Summary: Ubbe shows you what it is like to be with a real Viking.
Your marriage with Ubbe started with you frightened. The only thing you knew about Vikings were stories from the priests and villagers. They called them merciless monsters. Some of your friends even believed they were punishments for your sins. You had no idea what you did to earn such a punishment. A Viking as your husband. Your mother almost lost her mind when she heard the news about your arranged marriage. Despite your feelings, you couldnât have a word about your fate. Your father was one of the most trusted men in Alfredâs keep, and you were young and obedient. You knew what was right and what you owed your country and God. Nobody asked you for your opinion, anyway.
Ubbe seemed huge when you first saw him. He wore leather pants, and furs enveloped his broad shoulders. His strange hair was tied in a thick braid. The tattoo at the corner of his eyes gave him a feral look, and his blue eyes reached the deepest parts of your soul. The only thing that gave your breath back was his gentle and somewhat cheeky smile when you looked over at him without your noticing.
As the months went by, your nerves calmed down, and you let yourself open up to your husband. He was gentle with you and patient. He made fun of you from time to time because of your unusual habits but never meant to hurt you. And he always laughed at your snarky comments when you were brave enough to say them.
You had to face the fact that Ubbe is a good husband.
Summary: The reader and Logan have been bantering since the moment they met, and the other members of the X-Men have had enough of the tension and arguments. They decide to take matters into their own hands and shove the two towards the ultimate breaking point.
A/N: I swear on everything that I love that I started this one shot with every intention for it to be just fluff and yet it STILL gets angsty. At this point, I think I have a chronic condition of liking to write about hurt. Well, it led to this beautiful little gem of a story so I'll allow it. Love you and all and keep up with the dreaming đ€
Warnings: fluffiest fluff i've written in a while, angst near the end, endless banter
Have you ever hated someone so much that when they walk into the room all you want to do is punch them in the nuts?
Yeah, me too. Only problem? No matter how hard I punch him, I could never permanently wound him.
"Could you eat any louder? I'm genuinely curious."
I ignore Logan's rumble of a voice, gritting my teeth to keep from starting a fight in the middle of our team dinner. As we sit in the large dining room of Charles Xavier's mansion and school, I focus intently on the noodles before me and not the annoying wolf-man across the table. The X-Men around us keep talking, Logan and I's arguments a normal occurrence in the Mansion.
"God, you're so annoying," Logan mutters, and I drop my fork, staring at him wide-eyed from across the table.
"I didn't even do anything! How could I possibly be annoying you?" I exclaim, my voice incredulous. He gives me a curt smile and damn it if it doesn't still make my heart turn molten. That last tidbit only makes me more infuriated since I can't even control my body around him.
"I think it's just your presence, sweetheart," Logan responds with a wink.
"My presence?" I laugh, grabbing my fork again and pointing it at the man across from me, "At least I'm not the one with a personality that ranges from grumpy to grumpier."
"I'm only grumpy around you," He quips.
"I mean, do you just enjoy being a giant, walking storm cloud? I bet babies scream when you walk past."
Scott chokes on his food beside me to hide his laugh. Neither Logan nor I seem to notice that the table's gone somewhat silent to revel in our showdown.
"No, but I make women scream all the time."
It's Rogue's turn to let out a surprised cough. Despite myself, I find my cheeks heating. I'm glad for being in the midst of an argument, though, so the flushing of my cheeks gives away nothing.
"In terror? I'm sure," I coolly respond, stabbing a piece of chicken to keep from stabbing the Wolverine. Logan sits back in his chair, a smug, heart-twisting smirk on his face.
"Whatever you tell yourself, Y/N." He nods his head towards me, those damn hazel eyes burning into my soul without even trying, "We both know you dream of me every night."
"Oh I do," I concede, painting a look of desperation on my face that makes his brows furrow, "Every night I dream of how I could kill you,"
Logan rolls his eyes, but I see his jaw clenching nonetheless and smirk, knowing I've gotten under his skin.
"Even if I could die, you couldn't kill me if you tried, sweetheart."
I nod my head in acknowledgment, but then reach out with my powers to his food and with a single thought, I order the atoms to rearrange from his dinner and into a fat, squirming toad. He lets out a small noise of surprise and shoves back from the table as the toad hops down and skitters away.
"No, but maybe I'll turn you into a toad like your stir-fry, sweetheart." I look off in the distance, plastering on my best thinking face, "Do you think you'd still have claws? That'd be-"
"That's it," He growls, shoving away from the table and letting his claws rip out. This sends our team from amused observation to panicked mediation. I shove myself up to, holding my arms out.
"What are you gonna do, wolf boy? Come on, try!" I taunt. Chairs are screeching all along the table as our friends shoot to their feet, voices crying out to placate us.
"Calm down you two!"
"What are you, children?"
"Not again! We can't afford to keep buying new dinner tables!"
Logan jumps deftly onto the table, stalking across it and knocking over food as he does until he jumps back down on my side, getting into my face. I stand my ground, bringing him nose-to-nose with me as I glare up at him. The air is charged with tension between us, waiting to snap. My fogged brain doesn't if I want to punch him or...
I shake away the other thought, trying to forget about it.
"Oh I'll show you what I'll do," Logan whispers, the rasp in his voice running down my spine and knocking my heart from rhythm.
"That is enough!" Charles shouts, and the room goes silent immediately. Logan clenches his jaw and looks over to Charles as I do the same. The professor sighs, hanging his head and massaging his temple as if he's developed a massive headache.
"Good Lord, if only you two could hear what was whizzing between your minds. That was so confusing." Professor Xavier huffs out a sigh before wheeling over in front of us.
"Y/N, go find the toad you turned Logan's dinner into and please refrain from turning him into one as well," Charles orders. Logan snickers, probably about to egg on to his statement before Charles turns his head sharply towards him.
"Logan, please refrain from aggravating Miss Y/L/N. I much prefer you as a man, not an amphibian. Although you would be quieter," He adds on, making me snort. I send Logan a pointed look, which he just rolls his eyes to and looks back to Charles.
"You two need to learn to at the very least tolerate each other," the Professor commands, shaking his head incredulously, "You work so well together on missions and you'd be such great...friends if you would just set down this petty feud. Now go to bed both of you, think about ways you can be more civil."
He turns and wheels away, leaving Logan and I standing tensely beside each other and feeling like scolded children. With a shake of my head, I turn and make my way towards my room which just so happens to be right across from Logan's. He trails me, his silent presence overbearing on my mind and heart.
"You ever seen the Professor that flustered?" I ask, desperate to break the charged air between us. Logan lets out a short laugh from beside me.
"I thought his head was gonna explode."
I smile, casting a glance over at the Wolverine, "You'll make him go crazy."
We stop in front of our doors and Logan turns to look down at me, cocking an eyebrow amusedly, "Me? Sweetheart, you're just as bad as I am."
Something about the way he looks at me makes my heart trip. Maybe it's the proximity I don't think either of us realizes, or maybe it's the smirk that drives me crazy, but I take a subtle step back before I do something I'll regret.
"Careful, Howlett. I'll still turn you into a toad," I warn. His smirk turns into that damn half-smile that makes my stomach wild with butterflies.
"Don't let the Professor hear you say that, Y/N. You won't be his favorite anymore,"
I laugh, walking back towards my door, "I think you've been his favorite since the moment you crashed through our doors."
Logan lifts an eyebrow at me, "Is that why you hate me?"
I freeze, a weird, strangling sensation settling into my chest. Does he...does he really think that I hate him?
"Logan," I start, my eyes growing serious in a way that makes the teasing smirk drop from his face, "Logan, do you think I hate you?"
He clenches his jaw, turning more serious than I've ever seen him be. In the hazel of his eyes, I see horrors of the decades he's lived on this Earth flash through his gaze. It makes my heart drop to the floor, and I almost walk over and pull him into a hug.
"It's better if you do." He almost whispers, and then turns and walks into his room, shutting the door behind him.
I stand frozen for a moment in the hallway, trying to work through what he just said. Shaking my head with a sigh, I turn and enter my own room. That night, as I get ready for bed, I can't get my mind off of the Wolverine.
Something stirs in my chest, because the Professor isn't wrong about what he said earlier. From the first moment Logan and I met, we fit together so well that it terrified me. Not to mention that he was breathtakingly attractive in a rugged sort of way that made my inhibitions turn to mush. My attraction stayed for a grand total of ten minutes when he began to argue and pick on me like a seventh grade boy.
I tell everyone that I hate him, that I can't stand him. And I can't, that's true. The whole truth, though? The whole truth is that he only annoys me because I have no control over my body, thoughts, and feelings when I'm around him. I've always managed to keep romance to a one-night-stand sort of level, but every time I banter with Logan something in me craves his easy nature and the way he takes no shit. I need his banter like I need the air I breathe, because without it I feel like I'll get lost in the mundane of my routine. Logan makes me feel...alive in ways that I can't explain. And, as much as he'd never admit it, he's got the softest, kindest heart out of anyone I know.
And sometimes...sometimes I feel like he argues with me to keep me at a distance.
My proof? Every time we have a rare civil conversation like the one we just had, he shuts down for a few days with me. He avoids me, and then when he can't anymore, his usually petty and teasing insults turn grumpier than usual and more charged. It's almost like every time we naturally gravitate closer, Logan shoves us apart.
The only question is why?
|||
Later That Week
"Hey Y/N, I need your help."
I turn my gaze from the papers I'm grading from the science class I teach at the school to Jean who's just walked into my classroom. A smile blooms on my face and I stand from my chair, leaning against my desk as she walks over to me.
"Yeah, anything. What's up?"
"It's Scott and I's anniversary tomorrow night and the Professor just booked me for a mission. Do you think you could cover it for me? I know it's so last minute but Scott and I have had this night planned for weeks," Jean explains.
"Yeah, of course! You need a break as it is," I inform, smiling wryly at my friend, "Go have fun with Scotty. I've got it covered."
A relieved, ecstatic smile explodes onto her face and she rushes forward, pulling me into a hug, "Thank you, thank you, thank you! You're the actual best!"
I laugh, hugging her back before moving back towards my desk chair to continue grading.
"Anytime. Just send over the details tonight," I reply. She nods, affirming she'll do so before thanking me again and breezing out of the room to probably go tell Scott the good news.
|||
The Next Night
I hum to myself as I collect the supplies I'll need for the mission tonight. My hands are busy as I traipse through the supply room in the basement of the Mansion, grabbing various weapons and medical supplies and stashing them in the duffle bag I've got planted on the table in the center of the room.
Storm is set to be on the mission with me, and told me that she'd be getting the jet ready while I grabbed the supplies. So, once the duffle is packed, I sling it over my shoulders and make my way over the hanger. Just as she said, the jet sits humming and ready, the coordinated no doubt already punched in. The back hatch rests open, beckoning me in. As I walk up the ramp and into the belly of the jet, my eyes search for Ororo.
"Storm?" I call out, my brows furrowed as I search the cockpit. When I don't see her, I shrug. She must be grabbing something.
In the mean time, I stash the duffle into an overhead compartment. Just as I step back from doing so, an air-capturing presence enters the jet.
"You've got to be shitting me."
My heart hits the actual floor and I drop my head.
"This isn't happening," I mutter to myself before turning to see Logan standing in the entrance of the jet.
Like I predicted, he hasn't talked to me since the dinner incident. He'd barely stay in the same room as me, so seeing him sends an unwelcome bolt of joy through my soul. My stupid, traitorous heart flips in my chest at the sight of him.
"What are you doing here?" I ask.
"I could ask you the same thing," He grits out, setting down a duffle that matches the one I made, "I'm covering for Jean."
Everything suddenly snaps into focus. I blow out a breath, shaking my head.
"That little traitor," I grumble, before looking at a confused and aggravated Logan, "I'm covering for Jean too."
The realization hits him at the same time and he shakes his head. He turns to exit the open hatch of the jet, eager to get as far away from me as fast as possible.
I'd be lying if I said it didn't make a sudden shot of hurt explode in my chest.
"Fuck this," Logan mutters, but before he can leave, the door to the jet shuts. He stumbles back, a confused look overtaking his features.
"What the-"
That's when the engine revs to life.
I jog over to the empty cockpit to see the controls lighting up and the auto-pilot system taking over. Before either of us can do anything, since neither of us know how to fly, the jet is pulling out of the hanger and lifting into the sky to God knows where. I step back, shaking my head and looking over to where Logan has stepped up beside me. We share a knowing look.
"Storm." We say in sync. As if on cue, a voice radios in from the controls.
"Come in lovebirds, do you copy?" Storms amused voice announces. I grit my jaw and lean forward to respond.
"Storm, take us down or I swear-"
"No can do, you two need some bonding time." That was another voice, the Professor's voice. Shock crashes over me.
"Professor, you too?" Logan sputters.
"You two will learn to behave at the very least. Hopefully being stuck together will help the team spirit." He responds.
"Stuck together?" I question, my brows furrowing in confusion, "But the mission said that-"
"Oh there's no mission. The jet's set to fly a round trip for the night." Jean pipes in.
"Like hell it is! Bring us down right now!" Logan growls out, and I almost laugh at the bit of fear in his eyes. He's always been uncomfortable flying and I've always made fun of him for it. It's at least of some consolation to know this is how we're stuck together.
"I'm sorry, you're breaking up. What was that?" Storm asks, amusement lacing her tone.
"Ororo-" I start.
"I can't...must be...signal's going..."
Anyone could tell she's faking it.
"When I get back, you're all spending the weekend as cockroaches!" I call out.
"Have fun!" Jean and Storm call back before the line cuts out.
Logan begins muttering to himself before settling down in the pilot's chair and fiddling with random buttons. My eyes widen suddenly and I lurch forward, grabbing his arm.
"What the hell are you doing? Trying to get us killed? Neither of us know how to work this thing!" I object. He shakes off my touch and stands, towering over me and making me stumble back a few steps. He matches me for every one until I finally find my ground.
"There's no way in hell I'm staying trapped up here with you," Logan spits, and yet again my stupid heart flinches at the low blow.
I must flinch slightly in reaction as well, because some of the anger drains from Logan's face, being replaced with something I can't quite place. He sighs, cursing himself before taking a step closer to me.
"Y/N, I didn't mean it like-"
"No, it's fine." I cut him off, giving him a curt smile and cursing myself for not being able to hide the hurt. I take a few steps back and turn, walking into the belly of the jet, "Let's just get through this night."
I can practically feel Logan's unspoken words hanging in the air before I hear him sigh and mumble something to himself. I drop down into one of the chairs in the back, propping my feet up on the empty chair next to me and letting my eyes slip closed. I so desperately want to be able to sleep the night away to avoid any more interactions with Logan that can break my heart open and reveal the feelings I've denied for months. As I sit with my eyes shut, though, time passes and I can't seem to find sleep.
Maybe it has something to do with the domineering presence in the chair across from mine.
I can feel his gaze burning into me without even opening my eyes, can feel the way he wants to break the tense silence that settles over the cabin of the jet. The air is so thickly charged that I think for a moment that one spark could set the jet on fire. When I finally have had so much of the silence that I can barely take it anymore, I let out a sigh.
"Why do you do that?" I ask, my eyes still shut. The silence turns still.
"Do what?" He grumbles back. I drop my feet from the seat and open my eyes, turning forward so we face each other in the cabin.
"Every time I start to think we can be friends, you shut down. You ignore me and whenever you do talk to me you're as cold as ice with a temper that could make Hell freeze over." I don't hold back, so fed up with the same cyclic behavior from the last few years of knowing Logan.
"Y/N," Logan starts, then goes silent for a long while. Finally, his almost...tortured gaze meets mine, "We can't be friends. We'll never be friends."
I thought what he'd said before hurt, but that was a scrape compared to the knife he just shoved in my heart and twisted. I clench my jaw to keep from visibly recoiling again at the blow.
It's getting too much. It's all getting too much. The tension, the attraction, the long silences and bursts of charisma that make me want to crawl into his arms and stay forever. I can't take how off and on he is with me, I just can't. Not when I'm beginning to realize that I want him so desperately and not just physically or not just when he's in a good mood. I want every part of him because he makes me feel like I'm someone, because I feel like I was asleep until I met him. And to see the way he can so blatantly disregard me and shut down with me and say that...say that we can't even be friends?
It's too much. I can't take it.
My emotions bubble over and I make a small, tortured sound before shoving to my feet and storming to the back of the jet. I make sure to keep my back firmly to him to hide the angry and heartbroken tears that begin to well up from his keen eyes, but there's no mistaking my sharp intake of breath and shuddering shoulders.
"Y/N," his voice is like a poisonous honey, killing me slowly and soothing my very soul as it breaks me, "Y/N, just talk to me."
I let out a humorless laugh and whirl around to see him on his feet and walking over. When he sees the tears in my eyes and my emotions painted clearly, I know I can't hide from him. He freezes in his step, his hazel eyes like burning fires and every muscle in his body tensed as if he were holding them taut to keep him from doing something.
"No, don't-" I cut myself off in time to shove down the sob that wants to shudder through me, "You have no right. You have no right to keep pulling me in and-and shoving me away. I can't take it anymore, I can't"
The tension has finally reached its snapping point and I'm breaking first, I don't even care anymore. His face is impossible to read and it burns because I can't exactly storm away from him when we're tens of thousands of feet in the sky.
"Sweetheart, listen I-"
That's my breaking point.
"No, don't you dare 'sweetheart' me," I grit out, not even bothering to stop the burning hot tears that race down my cheeks, "God, you don't even get it, do you?"
Logan's face is one of pure shock and painâpain for what, I can't place. What I can see is the way his large hands keep flexing and unflexing, almost as if he's using every muscle to keep from walking up to me. His jaw is clenched so tight that I'm surprised his teeth don't crack. I dig my hands into my hair and groan in frustration before dropping them back down to my sides. I don't even give him a chance to respond.
"Every time you mess with me, every time you speak to me, every time you're even near me, Logan you are pushing me further and further down a very steep cliff and I can't stop it, I have tried." I take a gasping breath, not even caring that I'm baring every feeling to him that I haven't even processed with myself yet, "And you keep ignoring me and saying we can't be friends and then the next thing I know you're messing with me again and-"
"I'm not trying to hurt you, sweet-" He stops himself briefly, changing the word he was going to use, "Y/N. You just have to understand-"
"You are breaking me, Logan!" I shout, my vision blurring from the unbridled tears, "I am falling in love with you and you are breaking me!"
He goes as silent as death before me, everything within him going still. I don't seem to notice, and even if I did, I wouldn't care. I'm halfway past shattering and I can barely control myself. Years of pent up emotion is spilling out, and damn it I'm going turn all of my friends back at the Mansion into worms.
"What did you just say?" His voice is no more than a whisper, but I'm not listening.
"Let me hate you," I beg, my voice beseeching for mercy and my fists itching to slam into his stupid, perfect face, "Please, why can't I hate you?"
That's when Logan breaks.
"Fuck it all," he suddenly growls, making my breath hiccup and my gaze snap up to him. My stomach flips sharply when I see him storming up to me so suddenly that I can't even back up.
"Logan, what-"
"Shut up." He orders, and he reaches me in seconds.
The moment he does, one of his hands cups my face and the other snakes around my waist, tugging me so close to him that I can feel every ridge and curve of his muscles. I barely have time to breathe when he tilts my head up with his hand and crashes his lips to mine.
Instantly I'm on fire.
I can't stop the small moan that leaves my lips, swallowed by his as he kisses me so desperately and passionately that my knees would buckle if it weren't for his iron grip on my waist. He bites my bottom lip softly and uses the gasp I let out to deepen the kiss. Every fiber of me is trembling and my body is on fire. Everywhere he touches me is pure desire and lightning and passion and I can barely catch my breath. He must feel the same because he reluctantly pulls away, leaving us both panting in the silence.
My lips are swollen and my body shaking, leaving me holding on to Logan desperately to ground myself to this instant, to convince myself that was real. The charge is too strong, and like opposite ends of a magnet our lips end up together again. This time, he pulls back just enough so our lips are still touching.
"I'm so sorry," He breathes against my lips, sealing the apology with a quick kiss, "I'm so sorry."
I pull away, capturing his face in my hands and staring at him with furrowed, confused brows. My unspoken desire for an explanation is clearly picked up, and he shakes his head, moving both of his hands to my waist. Where his hands hold me burns in the best way, in a way that makes me never want to pull away.
"Everyone I have ever cared for, everyone I have ever let myself love, has been taken from me," Logan whispers brokenly, and I stop breathing. I don't dare to believe what his words spell out so clearly, but instead let him keep talking as if to prove me wrong.
He doesn't.
"That's why I kept shoving you away, that's why we could never be friends. Because if we were, I could never live with just being friends with you"
"Logan, what are you saying?" I whisper, my eyes wide and my heart racing so fast that I actually fear it might give out on me. His nose nudges mine before he pulls back, letting his eyes burn into mine so I can see the truth in them, the meaning and the sincerity.
"Y/N, I have been in love with you since the moment I met you."
This time, my knees do buckle briefly. Thankfully, his arms around my waist hold me until I manage to hold my own weight again.
"You-you love me?"
A sweet smile that I want to take a picture of and hold close forever spreads onto his lips.
"Always."
I pull him down so our lips meet again, and for the first time in months my soul is at peace. What's been devouring me slowly finally stops as everything makes perfect sense. When I pull away, I lean my forehead against his.
"You're not gonna lose me." I vow, then pull back to raise an eyebrow at him, "But if you ever shove me away out of fear of losing me again, I will turn you into a cat and keep you as the kids' class pet."
A genuine, heart-healing laugh erupts from him, lighting up Logan's face in a way that makes me fall in love all over again. We just stay like that for a moment, his arms around my waist and mine back around his neck, our bodies molded together and our breath mingling.
"You think they're watching a live feed of this right now?" I ask, not pulling away an inch.
The radio crackles back to life and Storm's voice fills the jet, "That would be an affirmative, love birds. Mission Wedding Bells is a success."
We both chuckle, and Logan turns his head towards the direction of the cockpit, where the camera probably is. With all the gentlemanliness he can muster, he unsheathes only his middle claw, flipping the entire team out. I laugh dropping my head onto his chest.
He cups my face and turns it up to face him, cocking an eyebrow at me, "What?"
It only makes me laugh harder and his body rumbles with laughter against mine, "Come here, sweetheart."
He slings an arm across my shoulders and walks me back to the cockpit. As we do, I think of that first moment we met. An amused smile tugs at my lips and I shake my head slightly.
"What are you smiling about?" Logan asks. I look up at him, amusement dancing among my features.
"When you saw me turn that creep paparazzi in the front lawn into a pigeon, that's when you fell in love with me?"
He chuckles, kissing my cheek and making me wonder if this is what bliss is.
"I took one look at you scolding him and then tending to the kids like a mother and knew I was in trouble."
I laugh, leaning into his side, "You realize we have to let the Professor tell us 'I told you so', right?"
"Over my dead body," Logan stiffens, his words final. I snort.
"Good thing you can't die."
And for the first time since I met Logan, my traitorous, knowing heart was settled.
Word count: 6.7 k (I did not expect this to be that long)Â
Summary:  Accompanying your brother, Prince Friedrich to London, you want to make the most of your few months of freedom before you are set to marry a French Nobleman. However, what happens when a certain Bridgerton catches your eye.Â
Warnings: fluff, some angst, arranged marriage.
Requests are open!!!
The sharp wind hit your face as you walked off the ship dock. Below you, the waves hit the hull of the boat causing water to splash up.
âYou highnesses, welcome to London.â Right by your side, your elder brother Prince Friedrich smiled and nodded at the royal servant who had a carriage prepared to take the two of you to the palace to stay with your aunt, Queen Charlotte.
âI heard Oxford has the very best collections of literature in England. Perhaps Queen Charlotte will allow me to look at them.â
âDonât tell me you traveled all the way to London just to read Y/n. If you wanted to stay in a dark room and open book after book then you might as well just stay in Prussia. I will not allow my little sister to shut herself up and not make the most of the upcoming social season.â A smile spread across your lips at your brotherâs words as the carriage jostled slightly.
âYou forget that my reasons to travel differ quite greatly from yours. You are in search of finding a beautiful wife and I intend to devour every book that London has to offer before I am shipped off to France.â
Warnings: friends to lovers, a lot of pining, some slight steaminess but itâs just built on intense longing and intense kissing
A/N: My first Bridgerton fic, which is slightly out of my comfort zone but has been a total joy to write! Feel free to send in any ideas you might want to see me write in the future. Hope you enjoy a good old friends to lovers confession with our boy Benedict <3
â
âYou cannot seriously be considering such a thing? I shanât hear of it, brother!â
It could never be said that the Bridgerton household was a dull one, a fact that you had witnessed firsthand ever since you were a child. Each time your mother had been invited round for tea with Lady Bridgerton, which seemed to happen far more frequently than was truly proper, you would attend too, following quietly behind her skirt. You would always begin with a shy smile towards the Bridgerton matriarch but once you were encouraged to join the children in the gardens, your inhibitions soon deserted you.
When you were first invited, Daphne and Eloise were just slightly too young to play with you properly and so you were forced to form friendships with the three eldest brothers. Whilst Anthony had largely grown out of such youthful things as friendship and Colin had travelled so extensively that your exchange of letters had grown thin, there was one Bridgerton brother that had provided a constant ever since childhood.
Summary: Everything you heard about matters of heart and desire told you the same thing; love could lead to heartbreak at best and disastrous results at worst.
Yet, you were convinced that everyone was wrong. They had to be, because love was supposed to make everyone happier, no confusion or pain in sight.
Regardless of how naive it sounded, you were sure that you were ready to fall in love and lose yourself in the infamous bliss.
That assumption right there was a terrible mistake, though.
You were nowhere near ready.
Warnings: Slow burn, mutual pining, Regency era society and social rules, angst. (Separate warnings included in chapters)
Summary: Itâs been hard for Negan adjusting to every day life in Alexandria after he was released from the cell and things get worse for him with the return of Maggie. Y/N is one of the only people that considers him a friend and they share a moment together under the stars.
Notes: This is just a really short drabble that I did a few weeks ago. I saw a prompt list for the month of December and I thought I would do all of them just because I was so into the idea of Christmas, but I ended up focusing my attention completely on The Magic of Christmas instead. The prompt was âStarry Nightâ
As always, Y/N means your name or whatever name you want to put in there.
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