#-posts this and then disappears into the void again for a while

[afanofmanyships]

Inspiration: this post

But they actually fight.

Captain Marvel recognizes the energy signature: "Ah," looks Phantom up and down with a raised eyebrow, "so you're the new hire?"

Phantom also recognizes the energy signature: "I could say the same thing," looks Captain Marvel up and down.

There was a moment of silence before the JL started feeling a buzz in the air.

Lighting sparks appear around Captain Marvel and start spreading throughout his body. The JL feels a little buzz on their skin, intensifying as the lighting spreads throughout Captain Marvel's body. Most of the JL almost kneel down while the others are already on the ground. And they know that the only reason the rest aren't on the ground is because Captain Marvel remembers that they're there.

A part of space belongs in the Realms. Green sparks appear floating around Phantom. The JL feels an enormous amount of pressure on them making the ones previously standing fall straight to the ground.

Only for the pressure that the both of them were emitting to disappear all of a sudden.

What looks like a void appears wrapped around Phantom but the JL could only feel air leaving their lungs as something squeezes their throats.

They feel the buzz again making them look over at Captain Marvel.

Captain Marvel and Phantom walk toward each other with their fist drawn back. As their fists collided with one another face, they both got flanged to the opposite wall. They both laughed and got up to meet one another in the middle with a handshake.

Captain Marvel through gritted teeth: It's soo nice to meet you again.

Phantom's eye twitches: Likewise.

Earlier that week

Billy holds up a bagel: Finally!!

Recently homeless Danny: Yoink! *snatches the bagel out of Billy's hands*

Billy: Hey!!

Danny runs off: Finder's keepers LOSER!!

Later

Danny just stole a man's wallet: Haha!

Billy bumps into him: Sorry man! *Waves two wallets and runs off*

Danny:

Danny searches his pockets:

Danny: *Offended gasp*

And ever since then, they had beef with each other.

[donvampiro]

hello! I was wondering if you could write something with the monster trio+law with a clairvoyant reader where she can’t tell ghosts from real people and she sees ghosts on there ships and just starts freaking out cause they still retain the look of when they died. Please and thank u!

hii Anon! hope you’re doing well :) this is a very interesting concept! i really enjoyed writing these HCs. careful though because, as stated in my rules post, it’s max 3 chars when it comes to requests. but maybe you’re new to my blog so it’s totally fine Anon, don’t worry ❤️ i still added Law because i feel like this request really fits him indeed hehe. in any case, hope this post will meet your expectations! Love <3

MASTERLIST - Welcome

***

'Shadows of the past'

Monster trio & Law x (clairvoyant) fem!reader

Warning: mention of death & mourning, physical injuries & blood. contains some spoilers (Marineford ; Dressrosa) as well btw

Monkey D. Luffy

tbh i think Luffy would find your powers kinda cool at first, like he wouldn’t immediately get the measure of your concerns and the harm that your visions might cause you, particularly in their tragic, even traumatic nature

every time he'd hear you scream or saw you shudder, seized by fear because you thought you were meeting a “real” person whose body was more or less in good condition, he’d quickly comfort you, offering you a big smile and patting your back or your shoulder with a gentleness that is always reserved for you.

‘c’mon, (y/n), no need to be afraid! think about saying hello to those people instead. oh! say hello to them from me too!’

Luffy’s carefreeness about your natural gifts wouldn’t last forever though. it would only be after a very concrete event that he’d realize the weight on your shoulders that your power can be on a daily basis. in short, he would need a kind of trigger.

maybe it would happen while you’re both sitting on the deck of the Sunny, taking some time for yourselves and stargazing after a nice meal, a little celebration, who knows. smiling, Luffy seems somewhat lost in thought though. his hand is soft yet slightly calloused as it envelops yours in a comfortable silence; but as you’d turn to him, you couldn’t hold back a gasp, more vocal than you’d have liked, and Luffy would instantly turn to you, alerted.

‘(y/n)? what’s up with ya? everything’s okay?’

it was the first time you saw that while looking at your captain for some reason. you saw him, yes, next to Luffy — this bloodstained individual, covered in wounds, and whose cheekbones, although magnificently freckled, could not, however, soften the sight of his fiercely pierced abdomen. his mouth is dripping with blood but his smile is peaceful as he looks at Luffy, before your eyes meet.

your own heart drums facing his stopped one. you know who he is. of course you do. how could you not know? Luffy has told you about him so many times, in that voice that now made you question whether to answer, tell your captain what you're seeing or not. but your ragged breath, bulging eyes, and the light film of sweat coating your face leave you little room for hesitation as Luffy grabs your shoulder and shakes it lightly.

‘hey (y/n). are you seeing things again? tell me.’

reveal the truth in a low voice and you’ll see Luffy’s eyebrows furrow, in an expression that mixes all the emotions in existence. his eyes are lost in the void of his thoughts for a second before looking all around him, searching and calling his brother, finding you.

‘he’s here?! like, where? behind me? can you talk to him? wait, do you think he can still eat like, real food? or ghost food? i’m sure Sanji knows how to make ghost food anyway. i mean, we could have another meal so he can be with us! oh, and tell him that i—’

he talks a lot and his eyes are glassy, ​​with a tearful glint that doesn’t escape your gaze despite his huge smile. you stifle your own sobs, feeling the weight of Luffy’s grief as you see Ace’s ghost disappear into the starry night, in a painfully soft gaze. you shake your head in a sorry sigh, and your captain almost automatically stops speaking. his smile fades away — there’s no need to say more. he contemplates you for a moment, before lowering his head slightly and caging you in a long, silent hug.

that night, Luffy understood the weight of your powers, understood your fears. the ashes of the past were indeed frightening.

Roronoa Zoro

really, Zoro can’t help but be puzzled every time he sees you freaking out like this, shouting about how there’s such and such corpses wandering on the deck of the ship or the streets of some island where you and the crew made a stopover. the swordsman would never delve too deeply into your emotions when they’re negative; not that he’s not interested, but that he prefers to keep things simple between you two and avoid making you overthink.

still, he would always try to reassure you, and he’d do so assertively — without digressions or innuendos — but always wanting to make things easier for you and so that you’d no longer have to worry about seeing these deceased people, more alive than ever in your eyes though.

‘there’s no reason to be so scared, (y/n). these guys are no longer among us, they won’t hurt you. i wouldn’t let them anyway.’

his tone was gruff, but you knew better. Zoro was always protective of you, and you were grateful, but it wasn’t that simple. meeting lifeless gazes, looking at bloodied, weakened, sick or whatever bodies — you were seeing bereavement and pain personified all around you, almost every day, and you couldn’t shake your fears, despite your best efforts and the swordsman’s reassuring words.

this is why your sleep would be regularly stolen by these bloodstained specters wandering around, and today would be no exception, even if you’re snuggled up to Zoro — who seems deeply asleep. it was he who had suggested a nap together, to calm you down, but obviously the task was more difficult than expected.

despite your eyes being firmly closed, sealed so as not to see these presences you were feeling, you couldn't help but fidget, scared. in order to calm yourself down, you decided to get up and go get a glass of water in the kitchen. you stepped out of the cabin and the air was mild. everything was (very) surprisingly peaceful, and you took the time to enjoy the moment as you filled your glass, before slowly heading back to the cabin.

but as you open the door, you’re greeted not by Zoro’s sleeping figure, but by a bloodstained and destroyed body, which finally passes through you to continue on its way. terror makes you drop your glass and it crashes right into the cabin entrance as you scream.

the swordsman is jolted from his sleep and instantly turns to you, his gaze alert as he reaches for his swords — but you stop him, pointing at the broken glass dotting the floor; and your shaky voice immediately makes him understand what happened.

Zoro sighs and leaves the bed for a moment to come and get you, dodging the shards of glass before finally picking you up and carrying you, so that you both collapse on the bed, never breaking your embrace. he can feel your heart pounding in your chest as he whispers in your ear.

‘saw sordid stuff again?’

his voice is calm as your respective eyes meet. his gaze is stern, focused, attentive. you nod, and it’s in a — sweet, only for you — whisper that he concedes that it can’t be easy every day. maybe you need to talk about it more than he thought, after all. Zoro tightens his embrace around you, petting your hair as he lets a comfortable silence settle, before questioning you in a solemn yet uncertain tone.

‘hey, by any chance… have you ever seen, like, in your visions… a young girl with a sword?’

Vinsmoke Sanji

Sanji would be a great listener and always there to reassure you when your visions frighten you. he would empathize and understand the weight your powers can represent; so you can count on him to give you all the affection and consideration you need.

he is supportive. his goal would be to make sure that you don’t feel alone in the middle of all these more or less bloodstained ghosts, so that, whenever fear seizes you, he can be there to comfort you and bring you back to the world of the living.

in that sense, it would probably lead you to be more comfortable with your powers and to be able to talk about them more openly. you would be less afraid. and it’s sitting in the kitchen while Sanji is busy at his stove that you’d talk about this and that, your voice a sweet melody for the attentive ears of the cook.

‘you know, i’ve already seen ghosts around you.’

– ‘ah? they should be more interested in you, (y/n)-chwan, you’re so much prettier.’, he’d reply, and you could hear the smile on his face.

you couldn’t stifle a laugh. with Sanji, things always seemed less dramatic, less scary. it was as if you could face all the troubles in this world but you could always get back up.

your laughter was nevertheless cut short by the presence you felt. you couldn’t help but shudder slightly and your eyes, riveted on the cook’s busy hands so far, eventually lifted towards a ghost behind him. this very ghost was also watching with great interest the recipe being prepared, all the while smiling tenderly.

‘there's one behind you right now, by the way.’

– ‘really?’, he chuckled, without taking his eyes off the vegetable he was cutting. ‘and what do they look like? not too… damaged, i hope.’

– ‘it’s a lady. a very beautiful lady.’

Sanji slowed down his cutting, his mind troubled for a moment. he certainly knew how to appreciate women, all women, but something inside him told him that this woman was different. what interest could the ghost of a dead woman possibly have in him? Unless���

‘(y/n), could you please… describe her?’

he had put down his knife, and the uncertain tone of his voice encouraged you to respond positively to his request; nodding then describing as best you could the woman standing next to him, looking at him with a soft smile.

as you spoke, the cook’s features tensed up, and you could see that he was holding back just about everything that came up to him. words, tears, everything. so you ventured to ask a few questions.

‘do you know this person?’, you’d ask timidly.

and maybe it was now up to you to lend an ear to Sanji’s sensitivity.

bonus:

Trafalgar D. Water Law

talking to Law about your powers would be complicated at first. in fact, he would have a hard time understanding why you would be so moved by every vision you have when it’s “just” part of your abilities. he would have a hard time understanding why you would continue to be afraid even though you’re aware of these powers of yours. everything would seem so… irrational to him.

You were coping with the situation as best you could — if he couldn’t understand, you weren’t going to force him. still, that was before you noticed this person. an individual that, as usual, you had taken for a living person, before noticing their bruised appearance and their spectral nature. this person who followed Law almost everywhere.

it was embarrassing, frightening at times, because this ghost’s presence was unpredictable and random, so you often found yourself jumping out of your skin and screaming in the middle of a conversation when they appeared, with Law looking at you in perplexity.

so you had decided to avoid Law a little, just to spare yourself a little, and to avoid having to broach this subject which you already had the feeling he wouldn’t be very receptive to.

however, Law, for his part, was actually very receptive to the fact that you were avoiding him. he saw it perfectly, and also felt that there was something you wanted to tell him, but didn’t dare to, or something like that. he felt lost about it: you knew you could tell him anything, right? or, had he done something that made you no longer feel comfortable talking to him?...

Law would confront you directly about it, not wanting to beat around the bush; and his heart was beating a little faster than he anticipated as he saw you searching for words.

‘well, i… i see… i often see a tall man around you, his face made up, with a large black coat, he’s very injured, with blood all over his face and… so… it makes me…’

– ‘“it makes you” what? what am i supposed to do?’

something snapped in his mind and his reply came out on its own, in a way harsher tone than he would have liked. Law’s grip on his nodachi tightens as he frowns. he looks hurt by this information over which you actually have no control. you shake your head — you knew he wouldn’t understand anyway, that he would only see your visions and fears as irrational, as always. you look away.

‘... nevermind.’

you start walking away, and Law runs his hand over his face with a heavy sigh, trying to process what just happened, and realizing his words were far too harsh. facing the loss of those who matter to us is already a trial. but seeing death walking around every day, even in moments that should give us rest… yeah, he too would freak out facing those kinds of visions eventually.

‘(y/n), wait’, he calls, catching up with you quickly. his voice remains monotonous, but you still hear the softness he always reserves for you. ‘i worded my question poorly. i… yeah, i think we should indeed discuss all this.’

you turn to him, your respective gazes seeking each other, and in his eyes lay torment as well as the apologies he can’t seem to voice. you nod, and he mutters.

‘i will try to understand.’

[melwnst]

────── ⋆⋅☆ JET BLACK HEART, ROBERT ‘BOB’ REYNOLDS

summary. You walk into the void to try and save Bob, and for once, danger might help you more than harm you.

now playing ↬ jet black heart- 5 seconds of summer

⭑.ᐟokay I know I said I was gonna go back to Dean but I had this idea and I needed to post it lol. He drives me insane. Spoilers for thunderbolts*. Please send requests if u have any and interact :)

Word count. 983

my masterlist

──────────୨ৎ──────────

The second time is heavy. It’s full of fear, uncertainty. Chills run up your spine, your body goes cold, almost frozen because you just stepped into what could be death. You’re not sure why- maybe you didn’t mind. Or maybe you’re hopeful this doesn’t mean death, this means saving Bob from himself, saving New York, and saving yourself.

You don’t want to be here. You’ve been in the void once, although it was quick, that was enough for you. But Bob needs you. You didn’t think- you don’t think. You could’ve told them, made a plan, but you knew the moment he needed you, there was no stopping you, so you walked. You walked with such force it almost pushed the void back like it didn’t want you- like it was scared of you.

The moment the darkness engulfs you though, you know that you’re surrounded by your worst fears, your worst nightmares.

You waltz through the rooms, you know exactly what’s around you, who’s around you, but you don’t pay attention. You don’t look around, you’re determined to just find Bob.

When you walk into an unknown bathroom, you make the mistake to look into the mirror.

Your reflection makes your heart break. Because it’s not you. Rather it’s the old version- the broken one. The one who thought she’d be better off dead- gone. The one whose heart was so broken she barely had one anymore.

It’s only then that you truly realize it’s not a reflection.

It is her.

‘Not even a hello? That’s a bit rude don’t you think?’ She smiles at you. It’s psychotic almost- it’s a sinister smile that tells you everything you need to know.

‘He’s not here.’ She speaks again, as if she knows exactly who you’re looking for.

‘it doesn’t matter, you know? You’re here now. And if you think you can save each other from the pain, you’re deluded.’ She tilts her head, still wearing the smile.

You close your eyes and sink into the floor. Except after just a few seconds- it’s not just a metaphor. You feel the floor beneath your crumble- slowly. You’re actually sinking.

The moment you open your eyes, you see him.

It’s Bob.

‘You shouldn’t have come.’ He speaks but his voice is barely audible. Like he’s afraid- like he’s about to crumble completely, because the darkness has swallowed him whole.

He doesn’t look up at you though. His eyes burn holes on the ground while he plays nervously with his hands.

‘I’m here to bring you back Bob. You have so much out there and I’m sorry that you don’t see it but I can’t let you do this to yourself.’ You slide yourself to rest right next to him.

When you go to lay your hand on his, his demeanor changes. He flinches- like he’s afraid you’ll disappear completely if he dares touching you.

‘It’s so dark here. I can’t get out.’ His voice breaks a little.

That’s when you hear the shouting. The smashing. And you know exactly what it is.

You look at him, and he knows he doesn’t have to explain.

‘It’s been like this for hours. I can’t seem to leave this room.’ He laughs humorously like he can’t believe this is happening.

‘Look at me. I’m right here. I’m gonna get you out of here.’ Your hand touches his still after knowing it might hurt you, but this time he doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t move. He just looks at you. Tears in his eyes, hands shaky, heart beating out of his chest for you.

Then the room starts to shake. Before you have time to think, objects starts flying around, and soon enough you find yourself entangled in curtains, not the romantic way. The way that chokes the life out of you. Both you and Bob stare at each other in fear while the curtain wraps around your neck.

It feels like hours before someone cuts the sheets and saves you.

The thunderbolts.

It’s a long time before you end up finding the real source. You fight against whatever’s in bob’s void, you even fight against his old self.

Then you get to it.

Him.

The void.

Bob’s worst enemy.

It’s only after long minutes of being stuck against the wall and watching Bob losing it and taking the darkness that your body finds a force it’s never had before and you manage to get free and run to him.

‘It’s okay, I’m here.’ You hold him, trying to make him stop, the darkness swallowing his figure.

‘We’re here.’ Hands latch to your arms, to bobs.

Maybe they know it’s not just him they’re saving.

It’s you too.

The air’s thick. It’s scary, it’s tears falling out of everyone’s eyes.

Then the floor swallows you again.

Except when you open your eyes, the darkness quickly fades, your hand still latching to him desperately, yelena’s hand on your stomach. Everyone grunts, and you soon realize you’re back in New York. The void isn’t there.

The city’s regaining its sunlight, and apparently so is Bob.

You’re on your feet in seconds, everyone is.

And Bob’s smiling.

He’s looking around like he doesn’t have a single clue what just happened.

‘What happened?’ He speaks up the moment his eyes lay on you. His hand finds itself in your forehead gracing the gash.

‘I’m okay.’

You hear the others whisper.

Maybe him not remembering it isn’t such a bad thing.

He’ll just have to know that you were there for him.

When the team hears Valentina speaking on the phone, they’re after her in seconds.

‘C’mon’ you don’t hesitate to grab his hand and pull him along with you.

Bob’s confused.

Bob’s always confused.

He doesn’t know where this affection is coming from but he’d be lying if he said his stomach didn’t flutter the moment your hand touched his.

Bob’s confused, but he’s very, very happy.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Taglist: @tinas111 @blossomingorchids @bluemerakis @l0v33-rey @mostlymarvelgirl @that-stanford-girlie @sunnyteume @bohoooitsme @beelzebzb

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[leah-lover]

A lap for love. Leah williamsonx F1!reader.

Part 1 part 2

Summary: when F1, football, money, parties, long distances, and relationships collide. Misery occurs.

    Monaco, money, speed, and danger are words synonymous with F1. Everybody talks about courage, competitions, cutthroat dynamics and the luxury of the game and how lucky we are to be a part of it. For the most part they are faithful to reality. F1 is an incredibly  exclusive luxurious adrenaline inducing game that revolves around being perfect all the time or else you get hated on for every breath you tackle.F1 fans are brutal. Unless you are on the podium or winning every race, you will be burnt at the stake. Especially if  you are a part of a team as successful as mercedes. Being a woman doesn't help either. You have the weight of an entire gender resting on your shoulders. If you fail it will be another 4 or 5 years before they let another woman compete again. So losing isn't an option at all. 

Having that kind of pressure takes a toll on one’s mental health. This case sucks even more because of all the traveling you do and the fact that your girlfriend is a very busy English footballer. With time zones always being against you, you started to drift from your girlfriend and the distance between you two grew with each race. You missed her presence, laughter, banter,and weird diet. You longed for her kisses,�� the way she made your body feel, the way she made all your worries disappear with a single look from her eyes. no body from the team noticed your light dim because you were good at hiding it. What they didn't miss was the parties you started to frequently host and attend. If you were not at training or the gym, you were in a club surrounded by sweaty bodies trying to feel something remotely close to what leah made you feel. You didn't drink much if at all you were just filling your life up with people so that you wouldn't feel the void of Leah not being there with you. 

Leah noticed this sudden change in your demeanor and she didn't know where it came from. She first became suspicious of all the stories clubs and party goers would post of you hanging  out with them. When she asked you about it you brushed it off as necessities of the job but she wasn't convinced. The partying kept going on and Leah became more and more suspicious as the distance between you grew bigger. You wished you could tell her how much you needed her but that wouldn't change anything. You were still travelling, racing around the world and putting on stellar performances, winning your team an impressive amount of points while she was playing football in London. Each point you gained shipped away at your soul and at your relationship. 

With you becoming more famous, the public began paying more attention to your private life. Suddenly, everybody was sure you were dating your photographer. People talked about you two all the time. Photographed you together and asked you about each other. You didn't confirm the rumors but you didn't deny them either. You knew that being a lesbian would only hinder your progress in F1 and further strain your relationship with leah. 

Amidst all this drama your home race came at a much needed time. You were tired, homesick, and you needed to talk to your girlfriend. 

You didn't tell Leah you were coming, you lied to her in order to surprise her at the Emirates for the second leg of the champion’s league semi final. As always the atmosphere was electric but it wasn't enough for the team to win against the giant of french football.  Sadly, they lost after an impressive battle. The look of sadness on Leah's face broke you, you two were very tired and needed each other at that moment. You asked your contacts at the Emirates for a favour to be able to go to the locker room since nobody except a few teammates knew you were dating leah. 

The silence in the locker rooms was heard from afar in the hallway. You haven't seen your girlfriend in so long you were nervous but you knew you had to be there for her. The look of shock  on the girl’s faces when they saw you enter the locker room was something you didn't expect. But it was understandable since you were famous in Britain  and they didn't know the reason why you were there. But the look on Leah's face shipped away at your heart a little. She wasn't happy, she was disappointed. You brushed it off, said hello to the girls and told them how proud you are of them and of their performances. You then went to sit next to Leah's locker. Without a word she got up to the showers; the situation was awkward, but the girls didn't say anything. They kept on doing their thing and each one of them got out of the locker room leaving you and Leah as she got out of the showers last. She made an appearance that you had the locker room all to yourselves. 

“ Why  are you still here?” she said emotionlessly. 

“ where would i be if not here. I wanted to be there for you. This loss is brutal.” you replied. You didn't get up to her and she didn't come to you. 

“ Thank you for coming. But I can't do this today. I don't have it in me.” she replied. 

“ What do you mean?” you asked confused the two of you still not moving an inch. 

“ I don't wanna fight with you, I don't want to put on an act that I am happy you are here. I just want to go home and sleep.” 

“ Are you not happy to see me? Leah, we literally haven't seen each other in months.” 

“ and what have you been doing all these months?” 

“ traveling the world working, representing England the entirety oàf women’s sport. What are you getting at?” 

“ Funny, I don't think getting drunk at clubs, dancing with women and models, avoiding your girlfriend and hurting her feelings is a part of your representation of women’s sports but if that’s what helps you sleep at night then go for it.”  She was gathering her things as was talking, then she headed straight to the door without looking at you. You ran after her but she wouldn't stop walking, you kept calling her name and begging her to stop but she wouldn't. She left you standing at the gate of the emirates and drove away. You saw the thread that connected your hearts stretch further. 

It only took you a few seconds to head to your car and follow her. Driving was your fortait so you arrived at her house before she did. When she was you another look of disappointment flashed across her face but she let you in and headed to her couch. 

“ I can't do this anymore. “ she said emotionlessly. 

“ no leah please we can work through this.” you begged as you kneeled in front of her. 

“ I can't keep doing this long distance thing. Our lives are so different. Our backgrounds are so different. You live in Monaco even if the season is over. I can't leave London. My whole life here is my job. I share my family with her. It will never work between us because the distance is too big. I feel more pain than I feel love from you.” 

“ That's not true. I can relocate from Monaco. I can come back and live here with you and support you. You can come to me in  your off season and we can find a way.” you say desperately and panicked. 

“ you can't live in london baby. This lifestyle of  yours is so different from mine we can't ever find something that would satisfy us bith. This relationship is not worth losing the thing you have worked your whole life for.” 

That last sentence broke something in you. Leah was convinced of her argument and you didn't have a rebuttal that would convince her. You two were tired and overstimulated and sad. You chose to do the right thing and leave before hurtful things  could be said. 

“ Silverstone, the great race of britain. The British driver’s most important race this time around with Lewis Hamelton in pole position lets see who will win.” said the commentator as the lights turned green. You were in the fifth position and determined to win this race no matter what. Shortly after the lights went green y-ou gave it your all and pushed so hard you were now toe to toe with levee fighting for the podium. The race was sure to go to a British driver but you wanted it to go to you so that you could justify your decision and the risks you had taken that japratised your relationship. You kept pushing and pushing until the finish line was up ahead and Lewis was sure to take it all but she didn't as you crossed first with him talking behind. And that was it you won silverstone. 

After you parked your car you didn't leave. You stayed there for a minute contemplating everything that has led you to this pOINT; cheers were heard from all around and you knew people were happy with you which made the decision you choose to break your heart further. 

You got out of the car, celebrated with your team and sang the national anthem. However something looks off. You weren't happy. Your fake smile was easily detectable by Leajh who was watching the race with her parents at home. Her mom looked at her worrily and she looked at you the same through the tv. Your demeanor continued throughout the press conferences. Which made l:eah feel more guilty. For the first time, ahs wo,n the british grand prix but she couldn't celebrate it because her girlfriend broke up with her shortly before. Leah continued to stalk you through instagram but you weren't anywhere. No story, no party. She called your manager to ask about your whereabouts. 1 hour later she found herself in front of a mansion in the countryside of london. 

The place was grand, luxurious. It screamed wealth relaxation and domesticity. Leah didn't know what she was walking into. She knocked on the door and a few moments later you emerged in an arsenal hoodie and great sweatpants. 

“ you won silverstone congratulation.” she said.

“ Thank you.” you replied. It was evident from our face that you were crying. 

 “ Can I come in?” she asked and you let her in. 

Leah kept walking until she found the living room. “ You seemed off today.” she stated. 

“ gee i wonder why?” you joked." Do you like this house?” you added. “ yeah i do.” 

“ I bought it for us. I finalized the offer before I came to london. That day i came to the stadium, i was gonna bring you here and show you what i did and ask for you forgiveness for being an asshole lately. But you jumped the gun and broke up with me.” you sat down looking at the floor. “ Our relationship is hard, you are right but I can't live without you. I won't live without you. You are the reason I am who I am. I survived the crash last year for you. I need you, Leah. I don't just want you. You are the only family I care about.” tears were streaming down your face which leah thumbs wiped as he sat down next to you. 

“ This will be our home. It's a little more than an hour from your training grounds. It's big enough for us to host your family and friends. We can have kids here and we can grow together comfortably. Leah, I will be happy to be your housewife, and your WAG . I will be happy to leave Formula 1 to save our relationship. “ You hold Leah's hands, assert her, and sturdy her face and she panics. 

Will this be the end of your legendary formula one journey. 

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Sail Away

Summary: Another nightmare leaves Javi wide awake, forced to wrestle with the consequences of his past as he looks towards his future

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings: Heavyyyyy on the angst, PTSD, references to violence/death (from Narcos), panic attack and descriptions of past panic attacks, insomnia, feelings of guilt/shame, mentions of pregnancy/parenthood, comfort, still a happy (enough) ending, post DEA Javi, poor Javi just really needs a hug :(

A/N: We're tryin new things here people!! Fair warning- I feel like this is DRASTICALLY different from the way I normally write (content and style wise) but big sad time, pre-period hormones said it's time to cry 🤷🏼‍♀️ I think a lot about how post-DEA Javi handles thinking about his time in Colombia, and how hard it is for him to talk about, even with the people he knows care about him the most ☹️ I hope this doesn't beat you to death with metaphors, imagery and lack of beta'ing (I can still hear my AP lit teacher screaming SYMBOLISM into the abyss) Trying to emulate a lil @jolapeno on this one (ily my descriptive queen 👑)

It happened again. 

You instantly knew from the stark cold of his side of the bed, the empty void where his broad frame should be, his sheets twisted and tangled from where he had fought another round with sleep and lost. 

3rd night in a row, the 5th time this week. At this point, it was hard not to keep track. 

The cyclical pattern of restless nights, haunted by ghosts of his past that taunted and teased him, cruelly lurking the back of his mind, no matter how hard he begged or pleaded for them to disappear. 

Forcing himself to wrestle with his demons in the darkness couldn’t help but feel like insult to injury- the harsh blacks and blues that flooded the sky, drowning out the last glimmer of sunlight as it dipped below the horizon, perfectly mirroring the way his mind so devilishly seemed to paint his thoughts in shades of ebony and cerulean with erratic, angry brushstrokes over the warm yellows and oranges of his new life he had finally learned to embrace. 

It only seemed fair that he went to battle with the darkest musings of his mind under the night sky that so cruelly reflected his mood. 

You weren’t surprised the first time you found him hunched on the back steps of your porch, head buried in his hands, fingers twitching for a cigarette- the vice he’d sworn to give up after his final return home, a vow that moments like these had made him distinctly regret. You always wondered how despite the stark silence that surrounded him as he stared off into the dark abyss, you could still hear his thoughts screaming at you- crying out for attention, acknowledgement, anything to get someone else to understand what he was hiding inside of his mind that he was too scared to say out loud. 

His midnight disappearances came in waves, fading and reappearing like an unpredictable ocean tide that left you wondering when the cool and salty water would crash around your ankles next as you stood at the edge of the shore. 

For a while, the seas had been calm, Javi’s body nestled next to yours, his warmth comforting and covering you along with the messy piles of blankets and bedsheets that filled your mattress, the nights being nothing more than drifting to sleep in each other’s arms, haunted dreams harbored at bay. 

For the last 5 nights, the tides had shifted. A storm was raging. 

The first few nights you let him go- you’d watched him weather this kind of storm before, always insisting it was a journey he was supposed to go on alone, the type of trip you need to make without risking hurting the innocent passengers that were supposed to ride with you. 

But as the days came and went, golden rays of vibrant sun shifting to dark and lonely blackness, it felt like you were leaving him out in the abyss without even so much as a life vest, praying for a return you knew would never come unless someone weathered the storm to save him. 

“You’re up again.” 

It’s a neutral statement, enough to disarm him from the implications you’ve sent yourself on a rescue mission to find him while you settle next to his stoic frame sinking into the porch step. 

“And you shouldn’t be.” 

Not quite resistance, but certainly not acceptance to you let you come aboard with him. Not yet. 

“I was already up anyway. Someone has been a big fan of punching me in my gut at 2 A.M. Hard not to notice when I wake up and your side of the bed is empty for the 5th time this week.” 

Both your eyes shift down to the subtle swell of your stomach, barley poking out from under the worn t-shirt you’d stolen from his dresser drawer. You’d never really had a knack for thievery until the past few weeks, claiming that everything was too tight for your growing belly. Despite all his years intertwined with the law, Javi had never had a problem with pardoning you for your violation, happy to let you, his household thief, and your new partner in crime indulge in the habit if it brought you any sort of comfort in your constant uncomfortability of growing a new life inside you. 

“Already picking up on her dad’s shit sleeping habit.” He scoffs under his breath, a bitterness in his tone that he thinks he’s somehow managing to inflict years worth of poor choices on his future child, still months away from even making her arrival into the world. 

It hurts, watching the pain well in his eyes as he stares off at the stars, glistening in the distance like some sort of unreachable sanctuary, the savior of a temporary distraction. Right now, you wish he’d look at you the same way, but he knows you won’t let him wallow in the all consuming waves of his own self pity like the stars will. 

A silent journey to outer space is the easy way out. You aren’t. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You ask it like it’s a question, like he has a choice in the matter. He knows that you’ll be gentle with him- you have been since the moment you met him- but Christ, he also knows you’re nothing, if not persistent, too. 

He sighs, accepting his defeat as his gaze drops from the sky down to the ground, cautiously allowing you to climb aboard with him. 

It’s like trying to approach a wounded wild animal- move too fast and you’ll scare him away, leaving him to writhe in even more pain as he tries to flee from you. Move too slow and you leave him to bleed out, alone and afraid. 

“I’m fine.” It’s almost humorous how blatant of a lie it is, immediately putting himself on the defensive, like he has any ground to stand on with his claim. 

You say nothing, your silence enough to intrigue him as his eyes finally meet yours, the look on his face revealing the truth his words wouldn’t. You try your best to remain neutral, but Javi knows the sadness slowly slipping through your expression, the one you’re trying your best to hide because you’re not the one that’s hurting. Yet, there’s something about seeing you hurt because of him that’s enough to chip away at the wall he’s put up between you two, finally allowing you a crack just wide enough to let you see through to the other side. 

“I- I keep having the same dream. Every night, it’s the same.” He says “dream” like he’s letting himself drift off to sleep to all the pleasantries the world has to offer him, waking up to his midnight thoughts refreshed and renewed. Because his dreams aren’t just dreams, his dreams are the most terrifying nightmares the majority people wouldn’t even be capable of imagining, a violent parade of the worst memories his brain can muster.  

“What dream?” You ask, as carefully and cautiously as the way you shift yourself closer to him. 

“I- It’s- I just- Fuck-” 

It’s then you choose to gamble, wagering that he’s let you in enough, your next move won’t startle him, inching yourself closer as your right hand begins to intertwine with his left. He’s resistant at first, but as the familiar warmth of your body grazes across his skin, he begins to let you in, allowing your fingers to gently tangle, anchoring himself in your grasp. 

“It’s okay, Javi. I’m here. You can tell me.” 

It’s then the bets become less of a reckless gamble, squeezing him just a little tighter, stroking his skin with your thumb and feeling him squeeze back, taking your hand and finally letting you start to lift him out of the eye of the storm. 

He still needs the reassurance you won’t leave, that the man his nightmares make him won’t scare you away like they have so many others. An insecurity that distresses him enough to make him ache, despite your compassion. 

You’re not gonna scare me away, Javi.

The words still ring in the back of his head when he finds himself like this, remembering the first time you found him on the living room floor of your apartment at 3 A.M., skin tacky and covered in sweat, heart beating so fast he was convinced he was dying, terrified of his mind, and even more terrified you would leave him, letting you find him exposed, like some sort of disgusting, open wound. 

He’ll never understand why you showed him so much mercy. In no lifetime will he ever be able to thank you enough that you did. 

It still doesn’t make what comes next any easier. 

“I just stood there. I just let him- I just let him do it. He was just a fucking kid.” 

You can practically hear both your hearts break over the stark silence. Javi’s, because of all the things he’s done, this is the one he’ll never forgive himself for. Yours, for the same reason. 

“Javi…” 

“I didn’t even try to stop him. He was just a kid. We just- we just fucking left him there. What kind of person does that? I- I spent so long trying to convince myself, trying to- fuck- trying to justify it was okay. That casualties happen when you’re trying to catch a fuckin’ monster. But what if- what if none of it fucking mattered because I was the one who was really the monster.” 

It was flowing out of him now, a flash flood crashing through the rest of the brick wall he had built up to defend himself. You can feel him trying to pull his hand away, trying to keep you from getting swept away in the current with him, but it only makes you double down harder. 

“You’re not a monster, Javi. What happened back then, it- it did matter. I know it hurts, but it doesn't make you a monster.” 

It’s not his admittance of guilt that breaks him- it’s your forgiveness. 

He wonders how can stand him, let alone love him. How his past hasn’t left him tainted and useless, like some sort of lame animal with a limp that can’t be cured, its only options left to die or be sent out to pasture, too weak to venture back for help. That you were the only one who wanted to help fix the parts of himself that were the most broken and mangled. That you were the only one who gave him a chance to be healed instead of leaving him for dead. 

When his eyes meet your stomach is when the guilt begins to morph into terror. Because years ago, a mother, just like you, was nestled away in the haphazard rows of colorful buildings that lined the streets of Medellín, carrying her unborn son, dreaming about the life she would plan for him. 

Javi knows that nowhere in those plans did she account for the pain and heartbreak she would suffer as some asshole DEA agent watched her son’s body become one with the earth while he took a bullet to the brain.  

How was he supposed to live with himself when he got a chance to play God- that now, after letting a life disappear, he was allowed to have a hand in creating a new one? 

You watch the gears in his brain churn, yearning for an explanation to the unexplainable puzzle he’ll never be able to solve, even though he’s convinced he can. His brain works in logic and reasoning, only making the emotional torment of his past decisions more confusing for him. The same kind of logic that you’re not sure will ever allow him to forgive himself. 

“How am I supposed to be a dad? How are you ever gonna trust me? How am I supposed to keep her safe when I’ve done so many terrible fucking things?” Tears begin to flow down his cheeks, each word more ragged and shaky than the last until he can’t fight it any more. 

It feels like the entire weight of the world collapsing into your lap as he melts into you, so heavy that there’s nothing that you can do but wrap your arms around him at let him cry and soak the battered fabric of the his stolen t-shirt draped over your top, fisting at the frayed hems. 

He can’t pretend anymore, not after he’s shown you all the cards he’s had to lay out on the table. There’s no more facade, no more attempt at a stubborn masquerade to hide his hurt. He’s finally let you climb aboard his ship and take the wheel, trusting that you’ll guide him home to shore where he belongs. 

“I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” 

The way he repeats it, chanting it like a broken prayer, begging for your forgiveness makes you ache. You’ve forgiven him for the sins of his past long ago, yet he still feels the need to plead to you for redemption. You wish there was a way to take it from him, to let him unburden himself from the shame he’s carried for so long and carry it for him, even if just for a little while. To let him see what you see in him, to know that you love him for all of his past, and not just in spite of it. To let him know that the storm he has to weather is a storm you will never let him weather alone. But for now, three words are the best you can do. 

“I love you. I love you, Javi.” 

And you do. You mean it. With every bone in your body, with every fiber of your being, you mean it. And right now, he may not admit it, but he knows you do, too. Those three words are enough to let him see the shoreline approaching in the distance, to see the light of day beginning to peek its way through the cracks of the night sky, to carry him back home to you. 

He says it with his silence, the way his sobs start to slow, replaced with long inhales and exhales, his chest rising and falling against you. He says it with the way he holds you just a little tighter, hand splaying across the swell of your stomach, muttering a promise to himself just loud enough for you to hear. 

“I promise I’ll protect you. Both of you. If it’s the last thing I do.” 

“I know you will. I will, too. I promise.” 

The promise is the last gentle wave that pushes you back to the part of the beach where tides roll gently, forgetting the raging currents they once were in the middle of the ocean. A place where you can safely row your boat ashore without the fear of another dreadful thought creeping up on you and dragging you back out to face torment again. 

As you look out in front of you, the sky is no longer laden with heavy shades of black- a pastel sunrise is beginning to creep over the horizon, glistening like some sort of trophy for an underdog fistfight you’d managed to win, even if you’d come out the other side beaten and bruised. It was enough to nudge Javi’s head out of your lap, encouraging him to accept his prize at a game where winners came few and far between. 

Tonight, you'd never been more thankful the universe had let Javi come up a winner.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve been up early enough to watch the sunrise.” 

“Yeah. It is pretty, isn’t it? Sorry this is the reason you get to see it.” 

“As long as I get to be with you, that reason will always be good enough.”

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[radiance1]

@puppetmaster13u You called Danny a space whale in the tags of one of this post.

Now what if that was literal?

Hear me out, Danny outlives his friends, parents, sister. Danny becomes a literal whale.

Well, not a literal one because he's a ghost, but he takes the shape one of at the very least. He's just a giant, glowing white whale that looks pretty divine not going to lie.

Danny leaves earth. It wasn't safe for him anymore, what with the GIW and all that as even the ghosts found it not even worth anymore to visit the mortal world.

Except for Desiree and Spectra, but that's besides the point.

But Danny doesn't retreat to the zone, he's always longed for space, but because of his new half humanness he doesn't get believe he could've ever gone because, well. Yea.

But Danny goes fuck it and goes anyway. His form shifts from human to that of a giant whale, and he swims out into the vastness of space.

Years pass, and Danny does start getting bigger as he aged. He explored the vastness of space, marveling at many things, the different planets, the stars, the formations of rock and other things.

Then he encounters someone he never though he would've.

Vlad.

Well, he knew Vlad was left behind in space by his father but he didn't think he would find him again and Vlad seemed... different, from what he remembered.

For one thing, he didn't even know where Vlad began and space ended. He got only see those red eyes that even hinted at it being the man. His body was void black and filled with stars upon stars, all glittering from his body and Vlad barely even seemed to notice him, or if he did, he didn't seem to care at all.

So, Danny took him.

He was both curious and felt a bit bad about what happened to Vlad, even if he didn't know exactly what happened, and he couldn't just leave him there either.

So on his back Vlad went, and his travels continued.

It seemed to be the correct decision, really, because slowly overtime Vlad seemed to be regaining his awareness. Then slowly, tentatively, started to speak with him through ghost speak.

Vlad only seemed to vaguely remember what he was before space. He remembered hating a man, loving a woman, wanting a son, loneliness and a boy with white hair and toxic green eyes.

Even though Vlad was his former enemy, his nemesis, and someone who took the world hostage.

He couldn't help but feel pity for him.

Then their travels continued.

Years pass unnoticed, when in space, with Danny slowly getting bigger and bigger as the two travel throughout. They've come into contact with various civilizations, some hostile, some peaceful, some neutral.

The hostile ones never lasted long, even if Danny never lifted a flipper to do anything most of the time, Vlad made sure of it.

They came at went as they pleased, and Danny believes that they've gained a bit of a reputations over their adventures, but neither he nor Vlad knew exactly what they said. It did prove useful in some cases, however.

A few more years, and Danny feels that this system is vaguely familiar. Which happens sometimes, considering he's been travelling for so long. He then finds out why it was so familiar.

He came across Earth and, oh. When was the Earth so small?

Well, not small really, but when was he just only a bit smaller than it?

Did it shrink when he was away? Or did he just grow?

That doesn't matter though. What does, is the fact that currently seemed to be an invasion going on, on his home planet thank you very much. He did not like the fact that there was a massive fleet parked right outside his home.

So he spoke to Vlad, expressed his displeasure, Vlad responded back knowingly and went off to make the source of his displeasure disappear. That doesn't Danny was idle either, the fleet was big and, well.

It's been a while since he's stretched himself in a fight.

[sharieb]

My thoughts on the LADS X Non-Mc Pairing

Lil note: Hey guys my current SharieB25 account isn't working any more so I have decided to transfer my posts to my this older account for more of you to enjoy once more. Sorry for the sudden posts disappearance.

I don't really see myself posting much on Tumblr. Still, after playing Love and Deep space and also after reading so much Non-mc fanfic, while crying my eyes out reading the angst, I come to notice that there isn't much fanfic on the aftermath or the consequences of each LI's decisions once they realize their mistake or the realization that their supposed anchor/safety net that had kept them grounded with a peace of mind during their pursuit for MC, their destined soulmate despite the tragedy in every past live they had lived, just... disappears... that one, ever present little safe haven during their weakest moments that not even Mc knew of... Gone. That sudden jolt of panic and deep concern that settles in their very core. To them, the feeling was unsettling... Wrong even. And maybe, for the angst of it, they can't do anything to fill that new void that the non-mc now left, maybe due to her moving on with her life or, for the worst case, due to her no longer alive or existing in their current life. We all know that Mc is like the sun for the guys, always orbiting around her as they are soul-bound to her, but now that they have lost their moon or guiding star, they can't function anymore. They were so used to the tragic love they had with Mc and were willing to put their lives on the line for her to meet her again in another lifetime as it was their written destiny...but Non-mc?... They don't know if they'll ever meet her again, and that's what scares the boys, the unknown as to whether they'll ever see their best friend, ride or die, and maybe their secret crush ever again. I would love to see more on how the LADS would cope once Non-mc is truly gone and out of their grasp

[loserboylvr]

thunderbolts* spoilers!!

details from the movie I haven't seen enough people talk about but I personally love so much:

Ava repeatedly disappearing and then coming back again, then Walker saying "you came back" but she always acts reluctant about it and makes up excuses.

The way Bucky is terrible at making decent non-answers while talking to the press. it really shows how he isn't cut out to be a politician at all 😭

John pulling Ava back into the limo during the desert chase

The scene of Yelena, Ava, and John in the back of the truck otw to the Watchtower where they're talking about their weapons. Yelena's "and then I have these little zzt-zzt things🙂‍↕️"... it's just such a fun little bit

Bob's "delusions of grandeur... depression" Mel mentioned from his file and just Bob talking about how he'd go from feeling like a god to being in a void literally being the mania and depression that people bipolar disorder experience. Sentry and the Void are allegories for it (at least in the movies from what we've seen)

The lady walking by the thunderbolts on the street and stink-eyeing Yelena when she's yelling "I'm terrible! We're all terrible!"

"John still using the taco shield in the post-credits scene??? no wonder the media prefers the other avengers 😭 I can totally see people thinking "how is he supposed to fight supervillains if he's got a fully concave shield"

Ava in general because I think she was hilarious throughout but people don't appreciate her enough

edit: AFTER MY FIRST REWATCH id also like to add the scene in the vault where yelena throws her knife and they each catch and dodge it one by one it’s SOOO cool, especially shows Walker’s heightened senses the way he senses it without looking

[outtathisworld-imagines]

Fine line

——☀️——☀️——☀️——☀️——

Pairing: Bob Reynolds x F!Reader

Warning: As much angst as there is fluff, mentions of needles/ medical environment, depression. Not proofread

A.N: Still very much holding sweet Bob in my heart 🥹🫶🏻 I feel like ‘Fine Line’ -which I recommend listening to while reading- was such a fitting song for this concept of Bob and the reader.

Lyrics are in bold italic!

Please let me know what else you guys would like! I do have a few other fics on the back-burner (for now!) that I'll start to post soon and just let me know if you'd liked to be tagged in further works too ✨

——☀️——☀️——☀️——☀️——☀️——

Put a price on emotion

I'm looking for something to buy

Bob mindlessly wandered the streets, smiling to himself seeing the brightly coloured souvenirs, the bustling streets and the noise that came with it. It’s the first time he can remember smiling in weeks.

Leaving home, trying to find himself and survive through his own bitter struggles, was a challenge to say the least.

That challenge was suddenly accepted by a smartly dressed man who handed him a business card telling him it would change his life. Bob had nothing left to lose, so believed him.

He sat in a cold, harsh, clinical room with others. He looked up, directly across to bouncing knees and a worried expression. He moved and sat beside the person riddled with as many nerves as he was.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“I don’t really know.” You replied. “I don’t usually get myself into things like this. I don’t really even know what I’ve signed up for!” You let a nervous laugh escape your lips.

“That’s alright, I’m in the same boat as you.” He admitted. “I’m Bob.”

“Hi, I’m Y/N.”

You shook hands and then the group was called into a room full of perfectly symmetrical beds and a vial of neon yellow liquid. You stayed next to Bob, even asking if you could hold his hand because you couldn’t bear the sight of the needle being brought to your arm. He sent you a soft smile, reaching across for your free hand and letting you tightly squeeze it as hard as you needed too.

Then for the two of you, everything went dark.

You've got my devotion

But man, I can hate you sometimes

Bob woke up in a bright room, his head throbbing and his limbs aching. He didn’t know how long he was out for this time and hated himself for it. Every time he was injected he would blackout, unaware of what was happening to him and his world.

He hated that, almost the same as he hated himself most days.

He did have one constant. Someone who made the days bearable. Someone who made the hate towards himself disappear whenever he saw the smile on your face.

A smile solely for him.

He helped you through the torment of being injected with the neon yellow liquid.

You helped him laugh again.

The two of you formed a close bond within the confines of the lab masked as a hospital ward, especially as the number of people dwindled down. You assumed the worst. You were told they withdrew. But you still had Bob.

“It was always my goal in life to have as much confidence as the ‘Florida man’ you see on the articles.” You told him one night, late after dinner when it was just the two of you in the soulless shared space they had made for you all to ‘relax’. You brought his long forgotten State into the conversation.

He laughed so much he cried, you could singlehandedly bring soul to that soulless room. He let out a relaxed sigh and let his hand fall to the void between your leg and his own, he looked down and saw his pinky involuntary stroke your thigh. You felt it before you saw it, subtly moving your own and intertwining your pinky with his.

In that very moment, Bob felt every painful thing he held inside of him disappear.

I don't want to fight you

And I don't wanna sleep in the dirt

As the weeks went on, the less people there were. There became a point where you and Bob just reached out for one another instead of asking or offering when they rolled around with the neon yellow serum. Despite the fact you got it daily, you still weren’t used to the poking and prodding of the needle. “Do you actually know what this is really for.” You asked one of the nurses who took your arm.

They remained silent and you turned your head to Bob “They can’t tell us, Bob.” You said with a mischievous smile. “They must be making us into superhero’s or somethi- AH!” With a wince you gripped onto his hand tighter feeling the sharp pinch in your arm before the world went dark.

“You okay?” A voice in the darkness. It was Bob. You were lying on his lap as you came to. You tried to move but he held you down, insisting you rested. You complied and looked over to the empty room, the soulless space that now only held two hearts.

“Where is everyone?” You asked.

“Gone,” replied Bob. “Just me and you.” He took your hand, squeezing it hard like you had done on the first day. “Please don’t go.” He begged in a pleading tone.

You squeezed his hand back “I’ll always be here for you.”

We'll get the drinks in

So I'll get to thinking of her

Your body became weaker by the day, Bob could tell. However, he felt much the same. It was tedious and exhausting being a human Guinea pig and most days you were the only thing that kept his strength up.

A call in another room, unbeknownst to the both of you, would be a catalyst for something the world was never going to be ready for.

“Two remain.” A stoic, monotonous voice droned to the person at the end of the other line. “Both doing well. Both showing good signs of responding to the serum. Both very close to one another.”

A pause.

“I wonder what would happen if we separated them?”

We'll be a fine line

We'll be a fine line

“Congratulations.” One of the nurses approached you both one late afternoon as you and Bob were chatting. “You have both successfully completed your testing.”

You and Bob shared a brief, puzzled glance. “I don’t know if I feel any different?” You said your thought aloud.

“Me too,” Bob chimed in. “How can you tell?”

The nurse avoided the question “There is a meal being prepared for you both, it will give you all the vitamins and nutrients you’ll need to sustain you. The day after tomorrow is when you’ll be able to leave, after some further testing of course.”

You both looked at each other with a smile and shared a hug, Bob would have done a lot more of the nurse wasn’t standing in front of you.

“You did it!” You squeaked, hugging him again “I knew you would. I’m so proud of you, Bob.” Your lips were by his ear which meant you didn’t see the tear of joy slip down his cheek at your words.

That someone in the world was proud of him.

And that you kept your own- you were still there for him.

We'll be a fine line

We'll be a fine line

“If I didn’t knew any better, this would be a date. But with hospital scrubs…” Bob joked from across the candlelit table as you were served dinner, tugging on the attire.

You raised an eyebrow “Are you suggesting we wear less clothes…?” You playfully retorted, causing him to choke on his water.

Bob nervously laughed “Sadly I think there’s too many cameras for that.” You both shared a giggle.

“Maybe if there was a lot less eyes on us, huh,” you spoke under your breath but he could hear you clearly. Tension suddenly flooded the room, as if the truth was sitting at the invisible chair at the table.

“Maybe, once we get out of here,” Bob nervously toyed with his napkin “Just maybe we could…”

“Take on the world?” You said with a smile, you could tell he was nervously searching for the right words. You reached across and held his hand, just as he had held yours throughout the god knows how long you had both been there. “Just maybe I think we could. And maybe with less hospital scrubs.”

After dinner you both walked back to your rooms, your routine tomorrow would be a different one. Neither of you knowing if it would be good or bad, but knowing you’d still have each other which was enough to face whatever they would throw at you.

“Well…” Bob stopped at your room door. “Goodnight Y/N.” He stayed there for a moment, his lingering made you smile. Then he leaned forward and quickly pecked you on the cheek.

He wondered if he had crossed the fine line that he mentally drew. That you weren’t ready to cross it into something more. Something more with him. Nerves bubbled in his stomach until you spoke up.

“You missed.” Quietly and with conviction. Bob raised a brow in silent question. “I said…” you leaned forward, capturing his lips with your own. “You missed.”

Pulling back, you saw his grin spreading across his whole face.

“Goodnight, Bob. See you in the morning.” You disappeared into your room.

We'll be a fine line

We'll be a fine line

Bob sat on the bed as someone took his blood pressure and someone took notes. “Uh, is Y/N going to be here anytime soon?” He said looking to the tray of medical instruments, one of them being a needle and a vial to draw blood. “Only because she really hates needles and needs me to hold her hand.”

The two in the room shared a glance. The one with the board placing it down and looking at him empathetically, not quite sympathetically.

“I’m sorry, Mr Reynolds.” They began and Bobs stomach dropped, lorn seeping into his veins. “Miss Y/L/N unfortunately don’t make it through this process. She became very unwell and-“

“No…” Bob choked out, barely above a whisper.

“She didn’t-“

“No!” Bob began to break down, his now bright heart- thanks to you shining on it- suddenly became dark.

“We tried-“

“NO!”

With a scream his world collapsed into nothing but darkness. The light of his life was gone and his whole world plunged into nothing but a void.

Test of my patience

There's things that we'll never know

Bob didn’t know how much time had passed.

How much time he lost.

He didn’t know what on Earth was happening in the world, or when it came to him.

He didn’t want to know.

As far as he was concerned, the only thing that was worth living for in this world was gone.

He let them test away, always looking over for a hand to hold.

One that wasn’t there anymore.

One day he was given a clear serum. His eyes closed over and he saw nothing but darkness. That was until he fell from a box into a room full of fighting people. They stood looking at him in hospital scrubs, his foggy memory didn’t help anyone either.

That was until the sun shone on him once again.

“B-Bob…?”

That voice.

He wondered if he had died and that’s why he was hearing it. “Is that really you?”

There you were. Standing in hospital scrubs with glossy eyes.

“Y/N? B-but how?!” He ran over to you, scooping you up in his arms.

“I don’t think we have time for a reunion!” A man with a shield chided the pair of you as he and two others frantically searched for an exit. You saw a body on the floor and knew better than to question it.

“They told me you didn’t make it.” You gripped onto him tightly, still not believing that he was in front of you. Bob pulled back, hazily remembering they had told him the same.

“Let’s just get out of here. We can chit chat later!” A girl with blonde hair ushered you both hurriedly before the room was set alight. All of you narrowly escaping.

Bobs hand remained holding yours.

When you all made it out and to the van, they pushed you and Bob in the back. He gripped your wrists with tears welling in his eyes at the sight of you again. But with the trouble you had all suddenly had found themselves in, he knew he had to keep you safe one more time.

And that meant letting your hand go.

You sunshine, you temptress

My hand's at risk, I fold

Your lungs burned from how loud you screamed, begging him not to go. Not wanting to lose him for a second time, not when you had just gotten him back.

He selflessly risked it all for you and the group of three mysterious people he had just met.

The one you came to know as Ava, held you in her arms as you all drove away.

Your eyes spilling so many tears, you didn’t see Bobs potential. What had happened to him from that neon yellow serum.

You weren’t around to hear Valentina ask what you both could do. What her band of nurses and doctors unlocked within you both.

“Night and day.” She was told. “He is the night and she is the day.”

Crisp trepidation

I'll try to shake this soon

When you reached the Watchtower, seeing Valentina, she sent you a smile that made you ill. Like she knew more about you than you did yourself.

You felt since briefly reuniting and then losing Bob again, being bound by another person called Bucky, which you later realised was the Winter Soldier, and now with a group of newfound allies surrounding the woman responsible for your unknown length of torment- was something almost as emotionally nerving as you being tested on. “You my dear, are just so special.” She said pointing to you. “Just as special as Robert…” she motioned to the stairs and your jaw dropped and your eyes widened at the very different (and suddenly blonde) Bob.

A far cry of who you knew.

“I made you both special.” She proudly admitted. “Meet Sentry. He’s going to ensure the security of this world. All powerful. Just like you.”

You felt the eyes of the team surrounding you suddenly lock on to your figure. “What are you talking about?” You asked.

She chuckled “You don’t remember? You burned brighter than the sun at one point.” You blinked, blithely unaware of her claims.

“Enough of this,” Bucky muttered and in a blink of an eye, Bob protected Valentina. You felt your body float before crashing against the wall, you couldn’t find the strength to pick yourself up again and fell to the floor, dipping in and out of consciousness. Rubble falling in front of you and trapping you there.

It was only when they were in the elevator after being tossed, punched and beaten, did Yelena yelp out.

“Where’s Y/N?!”

Spreading you open

Is the only way of knowing you

“Bob, stop,” you summoned enough strength to quietly beg from your trapped corner as he had Valentina against the wall.

That was until a woman walked in and pressed a button, making him fall to the floor with a sudden thud.

“No,” you sobbed. “Please not again.” The sunlight quickly dried your tears into your cheeks. Your fingertips tingling with an unknown feeling before you blinked and saw a shadow of what was once your hand-holder lying lifeless on the floor.

Your eyes opened and closed frantically, you saw sparks flash with each blink.

That was before you saw Bob again. In what looked like a well-lived in bedroom. “Is this real?” You asked, now able to walk and looking down at your suddenly unscathed body.

“Yes. No? I don’t really know.” He admitted. “But I’d like it of you held my hand.” You sat down next to him and did just that.

“Did you die…?” You asked with a trembling voice and a tear slipping from your eye.

Bob pursed his lips “After I was told you were gone back in the lab, I became a shadow of myself. I became a void.” He told you. “It’s always been there. I got even more alone after you were ripped from me and it took advantage of that.”

“Valentina was right,” you quietly spoke and your head hung in shame. “I remember. When I was told about you, I burst. Like a supernova. I let out so much light it burned everyone and everything that surrounded me.”

Bob let out a dry, humourless grunt under his breath, one that made your features quip.

We'll be a fine line

We'll be a fine line

“We are much the opposite.” He said.

“The star the night sky, I guess you could say.” You solidified his choice of words.

His hand squeezed around yours.

That’s when it clicked for you.

“You have to let go of my hand.” You told him. As much as you didn’t want to. But you knew what you needed to do.

“I don’t want to let go. I don’t want to let you go”. He pleaded with you, holding onto you tighter.

You sent him a smile in order to reassure his worry. For a moment it eased him.

“Okay.” You said and leaned forward, taking you both by surprise when you kissed him. Bob melted against your lips with a smile.

He didn’t feel your hand slip from his.

We'll be a fine line

We'll be a fine line

You opened your eyes, clutching your chest and gasping at the burning feeling brewing inside your body.

Glancing up from your corner, now enveloped in darkness, you saw a figure with glowing eyes hovering above the city.

We'll be a fine line

We'll be a fine line

You felt a newfound strength, your body suddenly glowing and floating above the floor.

It was time to show the world, and the void that had his clutches on Bob, just how bright you could shine.

We'll be a fine line

We'll be a fine line

You floated through the air and firmly remained in your spot seeing the darkness that consumed him.

“You got out.” It sounded confused.

“I just had to hold your hand.” You confessed.

We'll be a fine line

We'll be a fine line

It tried to push you away, mustering as much power as it could to dim your brightness.

But it couldn’t

You reached your hand out and burned brighter than the sun and the stars in the sky.

We'll be a fine line

We'll be a fine line

“You won’t take him from me again.” You yelled, burning brighter and gripped onto its hand tightly before wrapping it up in your arms. “We are going to take on the world.” You said.

“What makes you so sure?” The darkness tried to fight you.

But you outshone it.

“Because I said I’ll always be there for him.”

We'll be alright

Your eyes opened, the blue sky almost blinding you.

You felt a weight in your hand and turned your head.

Bob was lying there. Your Bob. Looking at you with his hand in yours.

“Thanks for holding my hand.”

You let out a broken laugh at his words and rolled over, pressing a kiss to his mouth as the world filled with light and the shadows were casted away.

We'll be alright

Since that day, the two of you were inseparable.

The team helped you both control your powers and embraced you both with open arms.

And most importantly, you always had a hand to hold and Bob always had someone there for him.

We'll be a fine line

We'll be a fine line

It was when he was holding your hand that he finally asked you to be his girlfriend.

The moment you said yes, you could hear the team cheer for you both.

We'll be alright (alright, alright, alright)

He held your hand through your sleepless nights.

He held your hand each time you shone like he had his own personal sun.

He held your hand when he made love to you.

He held your hand when you were scared.

He held your hand when you laughed.

He held your hand when you cried.

We'll be alright

Bob loved having your head resting on his lap, almost as much as he loved holding your hand. He gently caressed your cheek, trying to calm his nerves. It was his idea to have a picnic one summer afternoon. You enjoyed the warmth of the sun on your skin, and the smell of the wildflowers that surrounded you both, and the sound of the birds in the sky.

“Are you okay?” You asked, worry laced in your voice, noticing he wasn’t being himself.

“We’ve been together for a while now, huh?” He softly smiled and you needed in agreement, sitting up and crossing your legs.

“We have, we’ve certainly taken on the world- just like we said we would.”

“And then some.” Bob added, twiddling his fingers.

“Hand in hand,” you took his fidgeting fingers in your own.

That was before he pulled back, reaching into his pocket for something he had kept well hidden for months and propping himself up on one knee.

We'll be alright

“Will you take my hand again, but this time in marriage?”

[itsnotsunnyy]

party 4 them

pairing: paul lahote x female!reader

word count: 1,1k

summary: someone else stayed, didn’t ask for anything, didn’t try to fix her. just saw her.

content: emotional neglect, quiet heartbreak, implied unrequited love, healing from toxic patterns, soft romance, slow burn…

a/n: here’s part 3 of the party 4 u mini series! i’m so sorry it took me so long to post this—like i mentioned before, med school has been consuming all of my thoughts. also, i’m completely obsessed with the handmaid’s tale right now; it’s basically all i do in my free time lol. but the last chapter is almost ready, and i’ll be posting it later this week. enjoy! <3 ⋆.ೃ࿔*masterlist

she stopped waiting quietly.

not all at once. not in a way anyone would notice.

there was no big fight, no dramatic goodbye. just smaller things, missed calls that she didn’t return, text threads left unanswered, a playlist she’d skip, a nickname she changed back to jacob in her phone.

the ache didn’t leave her overnight, but over time, she stopped reaching for it. stopped feeding it and somewhere in the space jacob had left, something else began to settle.

not love. not yet. just peace.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

paul lahote noticed before anyone else.

not in any big way. he wasn’t looking to replace jacob. he wasn’t even trying to fix her, but he saw things. the quiet details, the way she twisted her sleeve when she was anxious, the way she smiled when she was tired but didn’t want to leave the room, the way her voice changed when she talked about the ocean.

he never pushed. he didn’t ask questions she wasn’t ready to answer, but he stayed and when she felt like disappearing, paul was always the one who looked up first, like he sensed the moment she started to fade.

it started with short walks.

he’d walk her home from emily’s, a few feet of distance always between them. sometimes they didn’t speak. other times, it was just easy banter, soft jabs. nothing serious.

once, she caught him glancing sideways at her while she talked about something stupid, seth’s playlist or quil’s terrible jokes and there was something in his eyes that made her go quiet. she didn’t know what it was yet, but it wasn’t pity. it was something quieter. something steadier.

something true.

jacob noticed, too.

he didn’t say anything, not out loud, but his silences grew heavier. he stopped cracking jokes around paul. his gaze lingered a little too long when she laughed at something paul said. there was no confrontation, no explosive moment.

just realization and regret, because jacob had thought she’d always be there.

even when he never really chose her.

even when he let her down, again and again. even when she cried over him and told no one.

he thought he’d always have time, but paul had seen what he hadn’t and worse paul had waited for it the right way.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

their first real moment happened in the stillness after a storm.

she’d shown up at sam and emily’s, soaked through from the rain, quiet and trembling. not sad. just… empty.

paul didn’t ask what was wrong. he just handed her a towel and sat across from her while she drank tea she barely tasted.

eventually, he said, “you don’t have to say anything. but you don’t have to go through it alone, either.”

she hadn’t realized she was crying until then. silent tears. exhaustion, not pain, but she nodded.

that night didn’t end in a kiss or a confession or anything like that. it ended with her head on his shoulder, and his hand on her back, steady and warm and for the first time in a long time, she let someone hold her without apology.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

weeks passed.

jacob stayed distant. paul stayed close, but never too close.

he walked beside her like someone who understood timing, like someone who didn’t want to claim her, just earn her trust and slowly, she began to turn toward him.

not out of desperation. not to fill a void, but because paul made room for her to breathe.

jacob saw it all unfold in fragments. the way she started laughing more around paul, the way she began to show up to bonfires again, not looking for anyone, just being.

the way paul looked at her like she wasn’t just something he wanted, but something he respected.

jacob kept telling himself it wasn’t serious. that it couldn’t be, but one night, he caught her in the middle of a story, sitting beside paul at a gathering, eyes lit up, voice animated, and paul—paul—was smiling like her words meant something sacred.

and it hit jacob in the gut. she wasn’t waiting anymore. she was healing. without him and it was the worst kind of heartbreak.

the kind where you only have yourself to blame.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

when paul finally touched her hand, for real, not by accident, not playfully—it was weeks later. a small gesture. just a brush of fingers. a pause. an offer.

she looked down at his hand, then up at him. no pressure, no expectation. just patience.

she laced her fingers through his, slowly and that was it.

no fireworks. no dramatic declaration. just warmth. the start of something real.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

jacob left early that night. didn’t say goodbye. didn’t look back. the world didn’t stop turning. no one noticed he’d gone.

but his chest ached like someone had reached in and twisted something loose, because he finally understood.

she had always been willing to give him her whole heart and he’d treated it like an option.

paul hadn’t and jacob knew, deep down, that whatever came next for her, it would be better than anything he ever gave her.

because paul would show up. paul would choose her and he never really had.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

they didn’t fall in love overnight.

it was months before she told paul how deeply she’d been hurt. it was even longer before she kissed him and didn’t flinch, but one day, she did and paul kissed her back with something that wasn’t desperation.

it was reverence.

and when she pulled away, laughing softly, a tear slipping down her cheek, paul just held her closer.

no questions. no pressure. just love.

the kind that doesn’t have to prove itself.

the kind that stays.

[mcrdvcks]

i love you, in every life ࿐‧₊ worst logan - imperfect for you

chapter summary: You and Laura find yourselves in the void. A few months later, Wade—who claims to be from your universe, and a different Logan appear with a way out.

word count: 17.3k+ (31k+ total)

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: alright! this is the second part, the first part was the logan movie, and while i recommend you read it, you don't necessarily have to.

most of this actually takes place after 'deadpool and wolverine.' surprisingly, i found this logan to be the hardest to write for, so i apologize if people think his character is wrong, i tried my best😭

also this is split in two parts! it's too long for tumblr to fit in one post!

(also, i know that it's 10 pm est, but i felt like i had to put this out now after watching lady gaga and bruno mars' performance at the grammy's)

warnings/tags: canon to 'deadpool and wolverine', black widow!reader, worst!logan, laura calls reader mom, violence, heavy angst, detached!reader, loverboy!logan, slow burn, fluff, wade wilson interruption, happy ending, not proofread

series masterlist - part 1 → part 2.5

“Laura!” You called out, your voice bouncing off the walls of the house. “Lau—”

“I’m here! I’m here.” Laura said, walking away from the staircase and to the front door where you stood.

You put your hands on your hips, “you know, you can try to skip school again, but I will find out. Like I always do.”

She rolled her eyes, adjusting her backpack, “yeah, you’re all-knowing Mom. Can we just go? I promise I won’t skip school again.” Laura walked past you, “even if it was just last period.” She muttered.

You leaned over her shoulder, “wanna say that again?” You asked with a smirk, as she sighed and shook her head before opening the door.

At least 5 people in black suits with orange accents. “Y/N Howlett? Laura Keen?”

Your hand reached behind your back for your hidden dagger as Laura clenched her fists, claws ready to come out.

“Yes?” You asked hesitantly.

“On behalf of the Time Variance Authority, I hereby arrest you for crimes against the sacred timeline.” The man without a helmet said, “hands up.”

Both you and Laura moved at the same time, with you throwing your dagger into the chest of one of the men and Laura stabbing one of them with her claws. Before you could do much more, someone from behind grabbed you, pulling you backwards through an orange door, another man doing the same with Laura.

Immediately you were both in another place, it almost looked like a retro, but futuristic, office space. Laura growled at the man holding her, but his grip on her was surprisingly tight.

“You punched a hole in the timeline after that stunt. Now, you have to be terminated.” A woman said to you, as you tilted your head.

“Come again? Hole—timeline—what?”

The woman narrowed her eyes at you, “you gave your husband back his memories and caused a large anomaly, spreading you throughout the timeline.”

“You’re making no fucking sense. You can’t just take me and my daughter away from—”

The woman looked at one of the men who brought you and Laura here, “this is the one from Earth-100006, right?”

The man looked down at his small tablet then back up at the woman. “…No. They’re from Earth-100005.”

She sighed, waving her hand. “Terminate them.”

“What?” You growled, taking one step forward before a baton touched you, making you disappear.

“Mom!” Laura yelled. “What did you do to—” The baton touched Laura, making her disappear as well.

---

When you woke up, you were lying on sand, the sun beating heavily down on you. Every inch of your body felt heavy, and a searing pain radiated from where the baton had touched you. Blinking against the sunlight, you pushed yourself up onto your elbows, sand clinging to your palms.

“Mom!” Laura’s voice snapped you out of the haze. She was stumbling toward you, her backpack missing, her hair wild from whatever had just happened. Relief coursed through you when you saw she was unharmed.

“I’m here,” you rasped, your throat dry as dust. You reached for her as she dropped to her knees beside you.

“What the hell just happened?” she asked, her voice trembling with anger. “Where are we? Where did they send us?”

You looked around, trying to get your bearings. The landscape was barren, a wasteland of jagged rocks, broken remnants of buildings, and endless dunes of sand stretching into the horizon. The sky above was gray and swirling, like the calm before a storm. In the distance, you could make out twisted shapes—structures or machines—but nothing alive.

“Not sure,” you said, pulling Laura closer for a moment, “but it’s not home.”

Laura’s claws slid out instinctively as she scanned the area. “This place… it feels wrong.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” You pushed yourself to your feet, testing your weight against the burning ache in your muscles. You checked your back for your dagger, but it was gone. “First thing’s first: we need to figure out where we are, what those bastards did to us, and how to get out.”

Laura nodded, her fists tightening. “If they hurt you, I’ll kill them.”

You smirked despite everything. “You’d better get in line, kiddo.”

Before either of you could say more, the faint hum of engines reached your ears. You turned sharply, squinting against the haze, and saw figures approaching in the distance.

“Shit,” you muttered, pulling Laura behind you as the shapes grew clearer. There were three vehicles—ramshackle but armored—kicking up dust as they sped toward you. They screeched to a halt a few yards away, and several people jumped out, armed to the teeth.

“Don’t move,” one of them barked, pointing a rifle at you. He was tall, bald, and scarred, his pale eyes scanning you with a mix of suspicion and recognition.

Laura growled, her claws sliding out.

“Easy,” you murmured to her, raising your hands slightly. “We don’t want to start a fight we can’t finish.”

“Y/N Howlett,” a woman’s voice said from behind the group. She stepped forward, her piercing gaze cutting through you. Her presence was commanding, and her bald head and strange demeanor set her apart from the rest. “And Laura Keen. Interesting. We’ve been expecting you.”

You narrowed your eyes. “That’s not creepy at all. Who the hell are you?”

“I’m Cassandra Nova,” the woman replied coolly. “And you’re in the Void. Welcome.”

“Yeah, well, thanks for the warm reception,” you shot back. “Now tell me what you want before I lose my patience.”

Cassandra tilted her head, a small smile playing on her lips. “Fiery. I see why he loved you.”

Your chest tightened. Even though she didn’t say his name, the context was clear enough. “Don’t.”

“Oh, but I will,” she said, stepping closer. “You’ve lived so many lives, Y/N, and yet, every time, he’s there. Do you even know why?”

“Lady, I don’t have time for your cryptic bullshit.”

“Patience,” Cassandra said, raising a hand. “I don’t need to waste time with questions when I can just take the answers.” Her eyes began to glow faintly as she focused on you.

The sensation hit like a wave—cold, invasive, and sharp, as if someone were clawing through your mind. But as quickly as it started, Cassandra reeled back, her expression twisting in confusion.

“You…” she whispered, narrowing her eyes. “Why can’t I get in? What are you?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” you shot back, forcing yourself to stand tall despite the pounding in your head. “You try that again, and I’ll show you exactly what I am.”

Cassandra’s lips thinned, but before she could respond, Laura lunged forward without warning, her claws flashing as she aimed straight for Cassandra’s throat. But before she could make contact, one of the armored figures moved in, grabbing Laura by the arm and throwing her back. Laura landed with a grunt, but she was back on her feet in seconds, ready to charge again.

“You’re wasting your time,” Cassandra said, her voice cold. “Surrender, or this gets much worse for you both.”

“Not happening,” you shot back, your grip tightening on your dagger.

Before the situation could escalate further, a deafening boom echoed from behind Cassandra’s group. Everyone turned just in time to see a massive fireball hurtling toward them. It slammed into the sand, sending a shockwave through the ground and knocking several of the armored soldiers off their feet.

“What the—” Laura started, but another explosion cut her off, this time from the opposite side.

Two figures appeared over the dune, running at full speed. One was a man engulfed in flames, flying just above the ground, while the other was heavily armed, his face hidden behind a tactical mask. The flaming man shot another fireball at the soldiers, while the masked figure opened fire with a barrage of bullets, cutting down two of the soldiers before they even had a chance to react.

“What the hell is going on?” Laura shouted, glancing at you.

“No idea,” you muttered, watching as the battle unfolded in a blur of fire and gunfire.

The flaming man soared over Cassandra’s head, sending another blast of fire in her direction. She dodged it easily, her eyes narrowing in anger. “Kill them!” she ordered her remaining soldiers, but they were already being overwhelmed.

The masked figure moved with deadly precision, taking down soldiers left and right with well-aimed shots. He was fast—too fast for them to keep up.

The fight was chaotic, but in the middle of it all, Cassandra’s gaze locked onto you again. “This isn’t over,” she said, her voice dripping with venom. Then, without warning, she disappeared in a flash of light, taking the remaining soldiers with her.

You and Laura stood there, breathless and confused, as the battle ended as quickly as it began. The flaming man and the masked figure approached cautiously, their weapons still at the ready.

Laura’s claws were still out, her stance tense. “Who the hell are you?”

The flaming man extinguished the fire surrounding him, revealing a young, blonde man with a cocky smirk. “Name’s Johnny Storm. And I think we just saved your asses.”

The masked figure stepped forward, removing his helmet to reveal the grizzled face of a man you didn’t recognize. “And I’m the Punisher. You’re welcome.”

---

“So, you were all sent here. For ‘not playing nice,’” you said, crossing your arms and scanning the group. Johnny leaned casually against the wall, the cocky smirk never leaving his face. Frank Castle, aka the Punisher, stood nearby, stoic as ever, his arms crossed like a living wall. The new trio—Elektra, Blade, and a man Johnny had called Remy—watched you with varying degrees of suspicion.

Elektra’s eyes narrowed. “That’s putting it lightly,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. The twin sais strapped to her thighs gleamed in the low light. “Apparently, stabbing the wrong guy gets you sent here.”

Blade snorted. “Wrong guy was a senator.”

Elektra’s lips curved into a dangerous smile. “He deserved it.”

“Not the point,” Blade muttered, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. He was built like a tank, his presence commanding even in silence.

Remy, with his disheveled brown hair and glowing red eyes, let out a low whistle. “Look like we got new recruits,” he said, his Cajun accent thick. “You gonna play nice, chére, or you gonna cause trouble?”

Laura’s claws slid out with a snikt, her glare cutting through the room. “Try me.”

You stepped in front of her, placing a hand on her arm. “Laura. Not the time.”

Remy held up his hands in mock surrender. “Easy now, petite. Jus’ makin’ conversation.”

Johnny laughed. “Gambit’s harmless—well, unless he’s got cards in his hands.”

“You got a point?” you asked, turning to Johnny, your patience wearing thin. “Or do you just like hearing yourself talk?”

“Both,” Frank said gruffly, finally speaking up. His voice was deep and gravelly, and his expression made it clear he wasn’t in the mood for games. “But Johnny’s right about one thing—we’re all here because the TVA didn’t like what we did. Same with you and the kid.”

You sighed, glancing at Laura. Her fists were still clenched, claws out, but she hadn’t made another move. “Fine. We’re all rebels. What’s the plan?”

Elektra’s smile turned sharp. “Plan? There’s no plan. We survive.”

“Survive what?” Laura asked, her voice laced with skepticism.

Johnny leaned forward, his smirk fading. “The Void ain’t exactly Club Med, sweetheart. There are worse things out there than us.”

“Like what?” you asked.

Blade stepped closer, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “Alioth.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Alioth?”

“A predator,” Blade said simply. “Consumes anything it touches.”

“Big purple smoke monster,” Johnny clarified, his hands miming an explosion. “Real nasty. You see it, you run.”

Laura scoffed. “We don’t run.”

“Then you die,” Frank said bluntly. “We’ve seen it happen.”

Elektra stepped forward, her gaze fixed on you. “This place isn’t just a dumping ground. It’s a death sentence. The TVA sends people here to get rid of them permanently. If you’re smart, you’ll stick with us. We know how to stay off the radar.”

“Why would you help us?” you asked, narrowing your eyes. “You don’t know us.”

Remy grinned. “Maybe we jus’ like company.”

“Or maybe we want to see what you’re made of,” Elektra added, her voice edged with challenge.

Before you could respond, a loud crash echoed from outside the bunker. Everyone froze, their heads snapping toward the door. Johnny’s hand ignited in flames, and Blade unsheathed his sword.

“Alioth?” you asked, your voice low.

“No,” Frank said, moving toward the door. “Too small. But it’s not friendly.”

Laura moved to your side, her claws ready. “Let’s find out.”

Elektra smirked. “I like her.”

Johnny opened the door cautiously, flames crackling in his palm. The rest of you followed, weapons at the ready. The landscape outside was as bleak as ever, the gray sky swirling ominously.

“Over there,” Blade said, pointing to a figure stumbling over the sand. It was humanoid but moved awkwardly, like it wasn’t fully in control of its body.

“TVA tech,” Frank muttered, his grip tightening on his rifle. “Looks like one of their enforcers.”

“Not anymore,” Elektra said, her eyes narrowing. “It’s corrupted.”

The figure turned toward you, its eyes glowing an unnatural green. Its body twitched violently before letting out an unearthly screech. Without warning, it charged.

“Move!” you shouted, grabbing Laura and pulling her back as Johnny hurled a fireball at the creature. The blast knocked it back, but it kept coming, its movements erratic and unnatural.

Blade stepped forward, his sword gleaming. With a swift, calculated strike, he severed the creature’s head. It crumpled to the ground, twitching before going still.

“What the hell was that?” Laura asked, her claws still out.

“TVA cleanup crew,” Frank said, kicking the remains. “Sometimes their tech gets left behind and... mutates.”

“Mutates into what? Zombies?” you asked.

“Close enough,” Johnny said, extinguishing the flames on his hand. “That’s why we don’t go wandering around unless we have to.”

Elektra looked at you and Laura, her expression unreadable. “Still think you can handle this place?”

You met her gaze evenly. “We don’t have a choice.”

---

It had been months since you and Laura entered the void. Frank had died a few days after you and Laura arrived, presumably by Alioth or what they call the ’Deadpool Corps’.

Since Johnny had left a few days ago and hadn’t returned, you and Laura decided to go out and look. There wasn’t any clues or leads until Laura came upon a Honda Odyssey with two men inside it. One in a red suit, tied up with seatbelts, and the other in a yellow suit with the same face as her own father.

She knew it wasn’t him, that he wasn’t their Logan, but it seemed like this was her only lead. She got into bloodied and wrecked car and drove it to base.

---

Wade finally woke up, sitting up on the bed, “where are we?”

“No clue,” Logan held up a whiskey bottle he was drinking from, “but I like it here.”

Rumbling came from outside the place they were in. Wade went to the entrance standing by it’s side when a woman came in and used her sai to knock Wade down.

Behind her a man entered, wearing black sunglasses, and after that was another man, holding a stack of playing cards.

“Okay, look at you… all. You must be the others. Terrific. So just to refresh, you are one- ”

“Elektra.” She said.

“Elektra, yes. Who could forget? And you, I was not expecting to see you here, thought you were… you know, retired.” Wade said in an accent.

“Retarted?”

“Retired.” Wade said again. “I’m already in the void. I’m not trying to get cancelled again.”

 Blade, or Eric, pointed his blade at Wade, “I don’t like you.”

“You never did.” Wade turned to the other man, “and who’s this succulent reminder of my own inadequacies? Look at you. You look like the superhero version of Hawkeye.”

“The name’s Remy LeBeau. Le Diable Blanc, but you can call me the Gambit.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen Sling Blade hit me again.” Wade asked.

“They call me the Gambit.” Remy said again.

“Do they? Are you sure you didn’t just really, really want them to, but it never quite worked out?”

Remy turned his gaze from Wade to Logan in the back, “you know, we never had a Wolverine up in here. But I can tell you now, it’s just a common courtesy to ask before you drink up all of my liquor.”

“It’s a good think I don’t give a fuck.” Logan shot back. He went to take another drink from the bottle when Remy tossed a playing card, breaking the bottle in half, glass shattering to the floor.

Wade stood up and looked between Remy and Logan, before settling his gaze on the latter, who tossed the top half of the bottle on the ground. “So embarrassing.”

Logan grabbed another bottle from the shelf.

“Well, now that that’s settled, look, we came a long way to find you three.”

“There’s five of us.” Elektra corrected.

“There’s five? Is one of them Magneto? Dear sweet God in heaven, let it be Magneto, because with him- ”

“He’s dead.” Blade cut in.

“Fuck!” Wade yelled, “now Disney gets cheap? It’s like Pinocchio jammed his face in my ass and started lying like crazy.”

“Ooh, you nasty! Mon petit rouge. Laissez les bons temps rouler, huh?” Remy said.

“Not a single word, what do you do exactly?” Wade questioned.

“Charge the playing cards. Make ‘em go boom.”

“Your power is close-up magic, that’s good. We’re not totally fucked at all. So, who brought us here?”

“That would be me.” Laura said, as she walked down the stairs into the room. “Don’t make me regret it.”

“Holy shit. Logan. That’s her. That’s X-23. She’s the one I told you about.”

Laura looked at Logan, younger than the one she met years ago. Part of her wondered if this is how he looked before it all went to shit.

Wade looked to the others, “hey, how did you all get stuck in the void?”

“There was a knock at the door, TVA sent me here.” Blade said.

“Me too.” Elektra added.

“Maybe I was born here. It’s- it’s hard to know for sure.” Remy answered.

“TVA decided our universe was dying. And I never even got a chance to fight for it.” Blade continued.

Laura walked close to the wall, watching Logan continue to drink from the bottle of Jack Daniel’s in his hand.

“People like us don’t go quietly. TVA knows that, so they took us out.” Elektra said.

Wade kissed his gloved fingers and pointed it towards them, “the answer is yes. I’m in.”

“In what?” Blade questioned.

“A team. Me, you, you and me. All of us together. Let’s get the fuck out of this place.”

“Don’t listen to him. He’s a fucking liar!” Logan called out.

“It was an educated wish!” Wade yelled back. Logan scoffed at him as Wade continued, “Look. We’ve been inside Cassandra’s lair. The only way out of the void is through her. She can get us home. She told us.”

“Wait a minute, you’ve been inside? And you made it out alive?” Blade asked.

“Bullshit.” Elektra commented, “nobody’s ever done that.”

“We did.” Wade answered.

“Every time one of us has gone up against her, they die. The Punisher, the Quicksilver, the Daredevil.” Remy started.

“Daredevil, I’m so sorry.” Wade looked at Elektra.

“It’s fine.”

“Okay.”

“Even that sweet, baby angel, Johnny Storm. He up and gone missing like, what, two days ago?” Remy said.

“Ah, that’s so sad. Wherever this Johnny feller is, I’m sure he’s thriving. Look, there’s strength in numbers. All right? Us, plus you guys. We can put Cassandra over our knee and force her to let us out of the void. I know what it means to feel self-doubt.”

“I don’t feel that at all.” Elektra looked over at Blade.

“I’m good.” He said.

“Now, I get your gut like a coke duct tape worm.” Wade continued.

“It’s like you’re in the middle of my soul.” Remy said.

“You guys may not have been able to save your universes, but you can avenge them. It’s what Johnny would have wanted.”

“Wait. You knew Johnny?” Elektra asked.

Before Logan could respond, you walked into the room, passing by Remy. “Yeah, he’s the reason Johnny is fucking dead.”

“Ah, ah. I’ll have you know that Cassandra killed him, not me. He was the one who ran his little mouth.” Wade said, throwing up his hands in mock defense.

You clenched your fists, holding back the frustration that boiled beneath the surface. “You didn’t help, Wade. You egged him on. You could’ve shut up for once.”

Wade waved a dismissive hand, leaning back against the wall. “I mean, that’s debatable. Can’t really shut up when you’re this charming.”

“Charming?” Elektra muttered, her eyes narrowing as she looked between Wade and Logan.

Laura’s gaze flickered between the two of them, tension evident in the way she crossed her arms.

Logan’s eyes hadn’t left yours since the moment you walked into the room. He stared at you, the bottle of Jack still halfway to his lips, forgotten. You didn’t look like you had aged, not that much anyway. It was a jolt to his system, like stepping into a memory. There you were, alive. In this damn place.

You could feel his gaze burning into you, and though you tried to avoid it, there was no denying it now. You had locked eyes with him, this other version of Logan. His brows furrowed slightly, like he was trying to figure you out, but there was something deeper in his eyes—recognition.

“I have to go,” you muttered, stepping back outside.

Laura looked between Wade and Logan before following you. “Mom!” she called, her voice sharp and worried as she jogged to catch up.

You didn’t stop until you were a good distance away from the others, your back turned to her. You exhaled, your hands gripping the railing of an old platform overlooking the desolate landscape of the void. Laura slowed when she reached you, her boots crunching lightly against the gravel.

“Mom,” she said again, softer this time.

You closed your eyes, steadying your breathing. “I’m fine,” you replied, though the quiver in your voice betrayed you.

“No, you’re not.” Laura crossed her arms, watching you carefully. “That wasn’t him. You know that, right?”

You turned to face her, your expression conflicted. “I know it’s not him,” you said firmly, but the words felt hollow. “It’s just… he looks the same. Sounds the same. Even drinks the same damn whiskey.”

Laura studied you for a moment before speaking. “But he’s not the Logan you knew. He’s not Dad.”

The reminder hit you like a punch to the gut. You’d had years to grieve, but seeing another version of him alive and well—so close yet so far removed from the man you loved—had ripped open wounds you thought had healed. You shook your head, trying to push it all away.

“I just need a minute,” you said, turning back to the railing.

Laura hesitated, glancing back toward the hideout. “Do you want me to…?”

“No. Go back inside,” you told her. “I’ll catch up.”

She lingered for a moment, clearly reluctant to leave you alone, but eventually nodded. “Fine. But don’t take too long. Wade’s already planning something stupid, and I don’t trust Blade not to stab him.”

You almost smiled at that, but it didn’t quite reach your lips. “I’ll be there soon.”

Laura gave you one last look before heading back toward the others. You waited until her footsteps faded before letting out a long, shaky breath. You gripped the railing tighter, your knuckles turning white.

---

Night had fallen in the void and Logan found himself outside sitting on a log, in front of a fire with a bottle of alcohol. He wasn’t allowed to think about this other version of you, or his own before Laura walked by him.

“Hey, hey. I’m not lookin’ for company. Get out of here.”

Laura sat down anyways, letting out a small chuckle. “You remind me of him. Angry. Drunk. Mean…”

“Sounds like a great guy—”

“Wasn’t finished.” Laura cut Logan off. “Showed up when it mattered the most. Couldn’t help it.” She watched as Logan sighed, his eyes still on the crackling fire. “You might not know it, but… you’re a good man, Logan.”

He chuckled, “you might not know it, but apparently, I’m the worst Logan.”

“I got to have a life because of you. I got to grow up because of you. A lot of kids did.”

“A lot of kids didn’t grow up because of me. Trust me, kid, I’m no hero.”

Laura looked over at him, her eyes trailing over the yellow suit. “That suit says different.”

“Yeah. Do you like it? Scott used to beg me to wear it. So did Jean, Storm, Beast. Y/N.” His voice cracked on your name, but he continued. “All of them. They wanted me to be part of the team, but I wouldn’t. Told ‘em they all look fucking ridiculous. I mean… I couldn’t have ‘em thinkin’ I wanted to be there. And then one day, while I was off on my own, the humans came… and went mutant hunting.”

“I can guess the rest.” Laura spoke.

“No, no, let me… Let me say it. I… I need to say it. By the time I stumbled home shitfaced from the bar, it was too late. They were dead. Every…” Logan stifled a sob, his bottom lip quivering as he remembered the horror almost perfectly.

Scott and Beast’s bodies were at the front of the mansion, clearly trying to protect everyone else, while you and Storm were near the kids with Jean in front of you.

“This suit’s all I got to remind me of who they were. And what I did.”

Laura didn’t speak, just looked at Logan as he sniffled and took another drink of his whiskey. Finally, she spoke, “we’re headed to Cassandra’s at sunup.”

“Have fun. Not my fight.”

“We won’t pull this off without you.”

Logan briefly glanced at Laura before returning his gaze to the fire. Laura clenched her fists and stood up, beginning to walk away.

“Hey,” Logan called after her. “Whoever you think I am, you got the wrong guy.”

She turned around to face him, “you were always the wrong guy.” Laura said, before returning on her way to base.

Logan watched Laura disappear into the darkness, her parting words echoing in his mind like a bad tune stuck on repeat. “You were always the wrong guy.” The fire crackled as he shifted on the log, the whiskey bottle in his hand feeling heavier than it should. He stared into the flames, his jaw clenched tightly, the weight of her words hitting harder than he wanted to admit.

He wasn’t the right guy. He never had been.

The sound of footsteps crunching against the gravel behind him pulled him from his thoughts. He didn’t look up right away, figuring it was Laura again, coming back to throw another jab. But when the footsteps stopped a few feet away and silence followed, Logan finally glanced over his shoulder.

It wasn’t Laura. It was you.

The firelight danced across your features, casting shadows and illuminating the faint lines of tension around your mouth. Your arms were crossed, and your expression was unreadable, though your eyes betrayed a flicker of hesitation. Logan turned back to the fire, lifting the bottle to his lips.

“What do you want?” His voice was gruff, a practiced barrier meant to push people away.

“I don’t know,” you replied honestly, your tone soft but steady. You hesitated before stepping closer, the gravel crunching beneath your boots. “Maybe to talk. Maybe to figure out why I feel like I already know you.”

Logan snorted, shaking his head. “You don’t know me. And I don’t know you.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared into the flames. “Whatever you’re lookin’ for, you’re not gonna find it here.”

You didn’t move, just stood there, watching him. “Maybe not. But I can’t ignore it—this... whatever this is.” You motioned vaguely between the two of you. “It’s like looking at a ghost.”

Logan exhaled through his nose, a humorless chuckle escaping him. “Funny. That’s what you feel like to me.”

Your brows furrowed at his words, but you stayed quiet, letting the weight of them sink in. After a long moment, you spoke again. “Laura told me about what happened to the others. To… your version of me.”

He tensed, the grip on his bottle tightening. “Don’t,” he warned, his voice low and dangerous. “Don’t talk about her.”

“I’m not trying to pry,” you said, stepping closer. “But I think we’re both avoiding the obvious here. In your world, I’m dead. In mine…” You trailed off, the ache in your chest making it hard to finish. “He’s gone.”

Logan looked up at you then, his sharp gaze meeting yours. For a moment, neither of you said anything. The fire crackled between you, the silence stretching until it felt like the void itself.

“Seems like we’re both ghosts,” Logan finally muttered, looking back at the flames.

“Maybe,” you said softly, sitting down on the edge of a nearby log. “But ghosts usually have unfinished business.”

Logan smirked, though there was no humor in it. “Yeah? What’s yours?”

You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you looked up at the dark, starless sky, your hands resting loosely in your lap. “Trying to make sure Laura survives this hellhole. Trying to get us out of here.”

Logan tilted his head slightly, studying you in the flickering light. “She’s a tough kid. Reminds me of someone I used to know.”

A faint smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “She gets it from her father.”

He didn’t respond, just took another swig of his whiskey. But there was something in the way he looked at you—something unspoken but heavy. You both knew what it was, even if neither of you wanted to say it.

After a moment, you stood, brushing the dust off your hands. “We’re leaving at sunup,” you said. “You should come with us.”

Logan shook his head. “Not my fight.”

You let out a murmured growl, “too fuckin’ stubborn.” You said quietly, crossing your arms over your chest and looking into the crowd of trees nearby.

But he heard it. He finally turned to face you completely, that one word throwing him off. It wasn’t that he hadn’t heard you curse before—he had, in one of your other lives—but it never seemed natural coming from you. Now it did, like it fit in a way it hadn’t before.

Logan’s brows furrowed slightly, but he didn’t comment. Instead, he studied you for a moment longer, as if trying to reconcile the you he remembered with the one standing in front of him.

You didn’t seem to notice his lingering gaze, or maybe you just didn’t care. Your arms stayed crossed, and your jaw was tight as you stared into the trees, the firelight flickering across your face.

“You done sulking, or should I give you some space to mope?” you asked, finally turning to look at him.

“Mope?” Logan echoed, an edge of irritation creeping into his tone.

“Yeah, mope. Sit here and feel sorry for yourself while the rest of us try to figure out how to not die tomorrow.”

“Not my fight,” he repeated, leaning back against the log and taking another swig from his bottle.

You rolled your eyes. “Right. Because it’s easier to sit here and wallow than to do something that might actually matter.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t respond right away. Instead, he stared at you, his sharp gaze trying to pierce through the wall you’d thrown up.

“What’s your deal, anyway?” he asked finally. “Why the hell do you care so much what I do?”

You huffed, shaking your head. “I don’t care what you do. I care what happens to Laura.”

“She’s a tough kid. She’ll figure it out.”

“She shouldn’t have to,” you shot back. “And you know it. You’ve got this thing in you, Logan—this need to protect people, even if it’s buried under all the whiskey and self-loathing. You’re just too damn stubborn to admit it.”

Logan snorted, the sound low and humorless. “Yeah? And what makes you such an expert on me, huh? You don’t even know me.”

You blinked, and he wasn’t able to tell if it was you holding back tears or clearing your face of your emotions.

“Why won’t you look at me?” you asked quietly. “You look at me like you don’t know me, but you do. I might not be her, or any of the ones you’ve met, but… I’m still me. And you’re still you. Still Logan. You just—”

Your voice broke, but you stopped yourself from letting it out. Crying wasn’t something you did, not anymore. You held your head high, jaw tight, and swallowed down the lump that threatened to rise in your throat. But Logan didn’t look up.

He kept his gaze firmly on the fire, his knuckles white around the bottle in his hand. His silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating, until you finally gave up. Without another word, you turned on your heel and walked back toward the base. Your footsteps echoed in the quiet void, but you didn’t look back. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing how much this hurt you.

Logan didn’t move, didn’t call after you. The only sound left was the crackling of the fire and the distant whisper of the wind in the trees. He stared into the flames as if they held answers he couldn’t find, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached.

When he finally spoke, it was to himself. “I can’t do this again.”

The words were barely audible, but they carried the weight of lifetimes. He took another drink, letting the burn of the whiskey distract him from the ache in his chest. But no matter how hard he tried to drown it, your voice still lingered, cutting through the alcohol like a knife.

“Why won’t you look at me?”

Because looking at you hurt. Because every time he did, he saw her—his version of you. The one he’d failed. The one he couldn’t save.

And maybe, if he admitted it to himself, because he was scared. Scared of letting you in. Scared of losing you all over again.

---

When you got back to the base, Laura was leaning against the wall, sharpening one of her claws with a whetstone. She looked up as you entered, her expression unreadable.

“Did he come around?” she asked, though her tone suggested she already knew the answer.

You shook your head, running a hand through your hair as you sat down heavily on one of the benches. “He’s too stubborn. I should’ve known better.”

Laura snorted. “Stubborn runs in the family.”

You gave her a sharp look, but she just shrugged and went back to her whetstone. The rhythmic scrape of metal on stone filled the silence, but it didn’t do much to calm the storm in your chest.

“He’ll show up,” Laura said after a moment, her tone more subdued. “He always does. Even when he says he won’t.”

“Maybe,” you muttered, leaning forward to rest your elbows on your knees. “But it’s not my Logan.”

Laura paused, her hand stilling for a moment before she looked up at you. “He’s still Logan,” she said quietly. “And you’re still you.”

You didn’t respond. What could you say to that? She wasn’t wrong, but it didn’t make it any easier.

---

Logan stayed by the fire long after it had started to die out, the whiskey bottle empty at his feet. He should’ve gone back to the base, but the thought of facing you again felt like too much.

The truth was, he wasn’t sure he could do it. Not after everything he’d already lost. Not after what had happened to his world, to his team, to you.

But as the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon, he found himself standing, brushing the ash from his hands.

Maybe Laura was right. Maybe he was too damn stubborn for his own good.

But if there was even a chance he could make this right, if there was even a sliver of hope that he could protect you—this version of you—then maybe, just maybe, it was worth the risk.

---

“Ooh! Look at that there!” Remy exclaimed, looking ahead at Cassandra’s base. You see them biggum hands come closed. Ain’t not a wonna gettin’ up inside there.”

“I think what Gambit’s trying to say is getting Juggernaut’s helmet ain’t gonna be easy. I’m just making stuff up at this… yeah. Tilt up to Blade.” Wade trailed off.

“Gun!” Blade called out, as he stood up in the car through the opening in the roof. You lifted the gun up to Blade, who took it and aimed at the base.

“Where’d he get that little beauty?” Wade asked.

“That’s Punisher’s AT4.” Elektra answered.

“Which Punisher? There’s been, like, five of them.”

“There’s only been one Blade, and there’s only ever gonna be one Blade.” He spoke, before shooting the gun. It hit the closed hands of the Ant-Man suit causing Elektra to speed up, driving through the fire from the explosion before turning the car to a halt.

Cassandra’s minions aimed their weapons at the group as you all exited the van. You and Laura stood in the back with Wade and Remy in the front, and Blade and Elektra to the sides. Wade looked up into the head of the enlarged suit to see Cassandra.

The Odyssey’s trunk opening caught everyone’s attention. Turning to look, you saw Logan exiting the van. His eyes instantly met yours before briefly glancing at Laura. He moved to the front beside Wade.

“Ooh, this is gonna be good.” Blade commented.

“You know how long I’ve been waitin’ for this? Whoo! I’m about to make a name for myself here.” Remy spoke.

“I don’t think you guys walk away from this.” Logan commented.

“You just make sure people know what happened here today. And when you get out of here, you have a drink for me, yeah?” Remy finished.

“You just stay on our six and get inside.” Blad ordered, moving to the front. You, Laura, and Elektra moved with him, standing in front of Wade and Logan. “We’ll make sure you get the package.”

“And we’ll get our ending.” Elektra said.

You pulled out your batons, powering them on as they shone blue, the faint hum of their charge filling the air. Laura slid on her sunglasses, her claws extending with a metallic snikt. Everyone was ready—Blade with his katana, Elektra twirling her sais, and Remy flicking a charged card between his fingers.

Cassandra’s minions surged forward, a chaotic wave of bodies armed with guns, knives, and makeshift weapons. You took a deep breath and moved in sync with Laura and Elektra, forming the front line of the attack.

Logan hung back with Wade, his eyes narrowing as he watched you dart forward, your movements swift and precise. It was like a dance—graceful, brutal, and deliberate. Each swing of your baton hit its mark, dropping Cassandra’s soldiers with calculated efficiency. He couldn’t reconcile this version of you with the shy physics teacher he’d known. This wasn’t the you he remembered, who’d tucked herself away in a world of equations and theories. This version fought with a cold, detached precision that sent a shiver down his spine.

“You seeing this?” Wade said, nudging Logan as he ducked a stray bullet. “Your girl’s got moves.”

Logan grunted, not taking his eyes off you. “She’s not my Y/N.”

“Right, right, multiverse shenanigans. Still, if I were you, I’d feel a little insecure. That physics degree sure didn’t teach her how to do that.” Wade gestured wildly as you flipped over one of Cassandra’s soldiers, your baton cracking down on his skull mid-air.

Logan ignored him and started up the steps toward the lair, his claws unsheathed. “C’mon, we’ve got a job to do.”

“Ugh, fine. Leave the fun to the professionals,” Wade muttered, following Logan while tossing a grenade over his shoulder. It exploded behind him, sending a group of minions flying.

Meanwhile, you spun around, parrying a blade aimed at Laura before kicking its wielder into Elektra’s path. “We’ve got this!” you shouted. “Go!”

Laura glanced at you, her lip curling into a snarl as she slashed through another attacker. “Make sure they don’t screw it up.”

You smirked. “Like I’d let them.”

Logan heard you, but he didn’t turn back. He didn’t want to. Seeing you fight like this, kill like this, wasn’t something he could reconcile. In his world, you wouldn’t have hurt a fly, let alone taken a life. And yet, here you were, effortlessly carving through Cassandra’s forces like you’d been doing it your whole life.

“Seriously,” Wade panted as they reached the top of the stairs, “how are you not having, like, a major existential crisis right now? I mean, you’re watching your not-wife turn into a murder machine. That’s gotta mess with your head.”

“Shut up, Wade,” Logan growled.

Meanwhile, the five of you stood in front of the stairs, bloodied and battle-worn. Blade smirked, flicking blood from his sword with a casual shake of his wrist. “Heh. Some motherfuckers still trying to ice skate uphill.”

There wasn’t time for banter. Cassandra’s remaining minions surged toward you like a swarm. You darted forward, Laura beside you, the two of you moving as a deadly unit.

“On your left!” you shouted, swinging your baton in a sharp arc to deflect a blade aimed at Laura’s ribs.

“Got it,” Laura replied, ducking low and slashing through the attacker’s legs before finishing with a swift upward strike.

The chaos of battle roared around you, but your focus locked on the figure in the center. He was barreling through the fray, tossing bodies like rag dolls.

“Mom, we take him together,” Laura called, already moving toward him.

You nodded, gripping your batons tightly. “Go high; I’ll go low!”

As you charged, Juggernaut swung his massive fists toward you. You ducked under one blow, the force of it creating a shockwave that rattled your teeth. Laura leaped over the other, her claws slashing across his arm. Sparks flew as her adamantium claws met his reinforced suit.

“Damn it,” Laura growled, flipping back to avoid his retaliatory strike.

“Helmet,” you reminded her, dodging another swing.

“Working on it!” she snapped, lunging forward again.

You feinted left, drawing his attention, while Laura climbed his back like a feral animal, her claws digging into the material. Juggernaut roared in frustration, reaching back to grab her, but you jabbed your baton into the back of his knee, sending him stumbling forward.

“Keep him down!” Laura shouted, her claws ripping through the side of his helmet.

“Trying!” you yelled, slamming your baton into his other knee. The impact sent a jolt through your arm, but it was enough to drop him to one knee.

Laura didn’t hesitate. She yanked his helmet free and flung it toward you. “Catch!”

You grabbed it mid-air and shoved it into Laura’s backpack. “Got it!”

Juggernaut let out a guttural roar, swinging wildly in an attempt to regain control. Before he could stand, Laura’s claws flashed, slicing clean through his neck. His head toppled to the ground with a sickening thud, and his massive body collapsed seconds later.

“Nice work,” you panted, wiping sweat from your brow.

“Don’t get cocky,” Laura replied, but there was a hint of a smirk on her face.

The two of you turned your attention to the giant Ant-Man helmet, Cassandra’s lair. Laura adjusted the backpack on her shoulders you handed her and glanced at you. “Boost me.”

You crouched, lacing your fingers together. Laura stepped into your hands, and you launched her upward. She caught onto the edge of the massive helmet, her foot claws extending as she began scaling the structure.

“Almost there,” she called down.

You stayed on guard, fending off any straggling minions who dared approach. Laura reached the top, pulling the backpack from her shoulder and tossed it into the lair where Wade grabbed it.

“Catch that?” she asked.

“Perfect throw,” you replied, knocking out a soldier with a swift elbow strike.

Before Laura could climb down, one of Cassandra’s soldiers used a psychic lasso, yanking her down. She fell, twisting mid-air to land on her feet, but more minions rushed toward her.

“Laura!” you shouted, moving to intercept them.

“I’m fine!” she snapped, slashing through one of the attackers. “Just keep them off me!”

The group fought with renewed vigor as the minions closed in. Elektra moved like a blur, her sais spinning with lethal precision. Blade fought alongside her, his katana carving through the enemy ranks. Remy flicked charged cards into clusters of soldiers, the explosions creating openings for you and Laura to strike.

The battle reached its peak when a low, rumbling growl filled the air. You looked up to see a massive dark cloud—Alioth. It loomed closer, its ominous presence sending chills down your spine.

“All clear!” Blade shouted as the last of Cassandra’s minions fell.

You exchanged a glance with Laura, both of you breathing heavily. “Let’s move!”

The air shimmered as a glowing portal opened above you. You watched as Wade and Logan jumped through it, disappearing into the unknown.

You felt a pang of something—loss, maybe?—as you saw Logan vanish, but you pushed it aside. There was no time to dwell on it.

Especially when not even moments later, orange doors appeared in front of you.

---

“So, how does it feel to be in the past, Sparky?” Wade asked you, putting an arm over your shoulder.

You promptly shoved it off, “don’t call me that, suka.”

Wade let out a dramatic gasp, clutching his chest like you’d just stabbed him. “Ouch, that hurt, Sparky. Right in the feelings.”

You gave him a look. “Try again, Wilson.”

“Fine, fine.” He sighed, adjusting Dogpool in his arms. The little thing was fast asleep, drooling all over Wade’s sleeve. “But you gotta admit, it fits. You know, because of the—” He made an exaggerated exploding motion with his fingers.

Laura rolled her eyes. “Can we just go? I’d rather not stand in the middle of a parking lot looking like a rejected Suicide Squad lineup.”

“I don’t know, I think we make it work,” Wade said, waving a hand between the three of you. “Got the grumpy old man, the feral murder daughter, and the ex—” He stopped himself, side-eyeing you before clearing his throat. “—the badass chick with secrets. Feels like a sitcom waiting to happen.”

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just get us where we need to go, Wilson.”

“Alright, alright. Welcome to Casa de Deadpool—where the beer is warm, the floors are sticky, and the roommates are blind. Follow me.”

Wade led the way, humming some off-key tune while you, Logan, and Laura followed. You glanced at Logan. His face was unreadable, but you could see the tension in his shoulders. He hadn’t said much since the fight, and you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

He wasn’t your Logan. You weren’t his Y/N. But still… it was hard not to see the familiarity in his face, the way his brow furrowed just so, the way his jaw clenched when he was thinking too hard about something.

You looked away. No point in getting caught up in what-ifs.

“Alright, home sweet home!” Wade announced, throwing the door open.

The inside was… exactly what you expected. Empty pizza boxes, half-drunk bottles of something questionable, and the faint smell of something that had probably died under the couch.

Blind Al sat in her usual spot, her head tilting slightly in your direction. “Oh great, more people. Just what I needed.”

“Oh, don’t be rude, Al,” Wade scolded. “These are my very special guests. We’ve got Grumpy Claws, Murder Jr., and Timey-Wimey.”

“I’m not calling them that.”

“You don’t have to, but the audience will.”

Al sighed, clearly used to Wade’s antics. “Are they staying?”

“Just for a bit,” Wade said, tossing Dogpool onto the couch, where he immediately curled up. “Logan here needs a drink, and I’m guessing these two need a place to not be hunted by crazy bald ladies in giant Ant-Man skeletons.”

Al’s head tilted toward Logan. “You drinking my whiskey?”

“...Maybe.”

“Then you can sleep outside.”

Laura smirked, and you huffed a quiet laugh. Logan just shook his head, muttering something under his breath.

You leaned against the back of the couch, arms crossed. “So what now?”

Wade clapped his hands together. “Now? We celebrate. We drink. We unwind from our very successful murder spree. And then, bright and early tomorrow—” He paused, leaning in like he was about to share some big, dramatic secret. “—we figure out what the fuck to do with you guys.”

“I’ll tell you what’s gonna happen. I have some money stashed somewhere, I’ll go get it, come back, then me and Laura can leave so we never have to see your faces again.” You said.

Wade let out a loud, exaggerated gasp. “Leave? Leave? Y/N, honey, sweetheart, my beloved time-traveling murder mom—why would you ever want to leave me?” He clutched his chest like you’d just driven a knife into his heart.

Laura crossed her arms. “I can think of about twenty reasons.”

“Okay, rude.” Wade pouted, shifting Dogpool in his arms. The little thing let out a content sigh, completely unbothered by the chaos. “But seriously, you’re gonna take off just like that? No heart-to-heart? No teary-eyed goodbye? No passionate ‘will-they-won’t-they’ moment with Grumpy Claws over there?”

You rolled your eyes. “Not interested.”

“Are you sure?” He wiggled his eyebrows, then pointed at Logan, who had yet to say a word. “Because that face screams tension.”

Logan let out a long breath through his nose, like he was physically restraining himself from punching Wade in the throat. “I’m not dealin’ with this shit right now.”

Wade gave him finger guns. “That’s a tomorrow problem, huh, bud?”

Logan ignored him. Instead, he looked at you. “This money you’re talkin’ about—where is it?”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t trust you to go off alone, get it, and come back in one piece.”

Laura scoffed. “She can handle herself.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Logan said, looking at her before turning his attention back to you. “But I ain’t gonna let you run off and get yourself killed when we just finished dealin’ with enough shit.”

You stared at him for a long moment. The way he was looking at you—it was careful, measured, like he was trying to keep himself in check. You knew that look. Your Logan used to look at you the same way. Like he was always preparing himself to lose you.

But this Logan wasn’t yours. And you weren’t his.

Still, you looked away first. “It’s in a lockbox at a storage facility a few miles from here.”

“Great,” Wade said, clapping his hands together. “Field trip!”

“No.” You turned to Logan. “I’ll go. Alone.”

“Not happenin’.”

“Logan—”

“No.” His voice was firm, final. “I’ll go with you.”

You exhaled through your nose. “Fine. Just let me freshen up.” You walked off to where you hoped the bathroom was, but not before mouthing, “parar” to Laura.

You locked the bathroom door behind you, glancing around the small, cluttered space. Wade’s idea of ‘freshening up’ probably involved nothing more than spraying deodorant over questionable hygiene decisions, but you had other plans.

Stepping up to the sink, you turned the faucet on, letting the water run just to make it sound like you were actually doing something in here. Then, moving quickly, you flipped the lock on the window and shoved it open. The cool night air hit your face as you glanced outside—an alley, empty except for a couple of overturned trash cans.

Perfect.

You hoisted yourself up, slipping through with practiced ease before lowering yourself down onto the pavement below. The moment your feet hit the ground, you took off down the alley, keeping to the shadows.

Back inside, Laura leaned against the wall near Wade’s stained couch, arms crossed as she watched Logan shift impatiently.

“She takin’ a damn shower in there?” Logan grumbled, arms crossed over his chest.

“She said she was freshening up,” Laura replied casually, not looking up from the knife she was idly flipping between her fingers.

Logan huffed. “It’s been long enough. I’m gettin’ her.”

Laura didn’t move as he pushed off the wall and headed for the bathroom. The moment he reached for the doorknob, she spoke.

“You should wait,” she said.

Logan shot her a look over his shoulder. “Why?”

Laura finally looked up, her expression unreadable. “Just ‘cause.”

That made Logan pause. His eyes narrowed slightly as he glanced between her and the closed bathroom door. Something wasn’t adding up.

“Kid,” he said, his voice low and edged with suspicion, “where’d she really go?”

Laura met his gaze evenly. “She’ll be back.”

Logan’s jaw tightened. “Damn it.” He turned, pushing the bathroom door open with enough force to slam it against the wall. The running faucet mocked him, the open window sealing the truth of it.

“She ditched us,” he muttered, running a hand down his face.

Wade peered in behind him. “Oof. Classic Sparky move. You love to see it.”

Logan turned on his heel, his glare cutting through Wade like a knife. “Where’d she go?”

Wade shrugged dramatically. “Beats me. But if I had to guess? Probably somewhere far away from your grumpy ass.”

Logan growled, storming back into the room. “Damn stubborn—” He turned to Laura. “You knew.”

She didn’t flinch under his stare. “Yeah.”

His fists clenched, frustration mounting. “And you let her go?”

“She can handle herself,” Laura said simply.

“That ain’t the point,” Logan snapped.

“Then what is?”

Logan opened his mouth, then shut it. What was the point? That he didn’t want her runnin’ off alone? That the thought of her out there, possibly in danger, made his gut twist?

“She’ll be fine,” Laura said again. “She’ll be back before you know it.”

Logan shot her a sharp look. “And you knew she was gonna pull this shit?”

Laura didn’t even flinch. “Yeah.”

Logan exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “Damn stubborn woman.”

Wade, now comfortably sprawled on the couch, feet kicked up on the armrest, wiggled his fingers dramatically. “Aw, look at you, all worked up. It’s almost like you care.”

Logan glared at him. “Shut the hell up.”

Wade gasped, hand over his heart. “Ouch! That’s no way to talk to your bestest buddy in the whole world. You know, if you keep scowling like that, you’re gonna get wrinkles.”

Logan ignored him, turning back to Laura. “Where’d she go?”

Laura shrugged. “She didn’t say.”

“Bullshit,” Logan growled. “She told you something.”

Laura arched a brow. “Even if mom did, why would I tell you?”

Logan stepped forward, voice dropping low. “Because she’s out there alone, and I don’t trust her not to get herself into trouble.”

Laura tilted her head. “Sounds like a you problem.”

Logan clenched his teeth, nostrils flaring. “Damn kid’s just as bad as she is.”

“I take that as a compliment.”

Wade, now peeling an old banana he found on the coffee table, piped up. “Look, let’s be real here—Sparky probably ditched us so she could do some shady, assassin-y, Black Widow type shit. Maybe she’s robbing a bank! Maybe she’s breaking into a top-secret government facility! Maybe she’s meeting a mysterious lover who—”

Logan shot him a look that could’ve melted steel.

“Or,” Wade continued, grinning, “maybe she’s just getting her money so she can take Little Miss Stabby Hands here and leave your grumpy ass behind.”

Logan’s jaw tightened.

Wade snapped his fingers. “Ohhh, there it is. That realization. That little pang in your chest. That Oh no, I don’t want her to leave feeling.”

Logan ignored him. “She said somethin’ about a storage facility,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “A few miles from here.”

Laura sighed. “And now you’re gonna go after her?”

“Damn right, I am.”

“She doesn’t want you to.”

“I don’t give a shit.”

Laura watched him for a moment, then shrugged. “Fine. But don’t get all dramatic when she punches you for following her.”

Wade sat up, tossing his banana peel over his shoulder. “Ooooh, I gotta see this. Road trip!”

Logan grabbed his jacket off the chair, shooting Wade a glare. “You’re stayin’ here.”

Wade pouted. “Rude.”

Laura smirked. “Good luck.”

Logan muttered something under his breath and stormed toward the door, already regretting whatever the hell he was about to do.

---

You hadn’t been at this storage facility in almost 2 decades, from before you joined the x-men. It was a standard procedure, you left large amounts of cash, fake id’s, and weapons hidden in almost every major city.

The lock clicked open with a soft beep, and you tossed it onto the floor, pushing the storage unit door up. The metal groaned as it rolled upward, revealing the small space packed neatly with everything you’d left behind years ago—cash, fake IDs, weapons, emergency supplies. It was all still there, untouched.

You exhaled through your nose. Good. This would be enough to get you and Laura far away from New York.

You crouched down, lifting a duffel bag from the pile, zipping it open. Stacks of cash, bundled and secure, sat inside. Grabbing a few more rolls, you stuffed them in before reaching for one of the smaller, locked cases in the back. Inside were passports, IDs, credit cards—everything you’d need to disappear.

Your fingers brushed over one of the old IDs. It was worn from time but still legible. A name you hadn’t used in years. A version of yourself that no longer existed.

“Never thought I’d see you here.”

The voice sent a jolt up your spine. You knew it before you even turned around.

Logan.

You let out a slow breath before standing, keeping your expression neutral as you turned to face him. He stood at the entrance, arms crossed, his gaze flickering between you and the duffel bag.

“Took you long enough,” you muttered, zipping the bag closed.

He stepped inside, boots heavy against the concrete. “Could say the same about you,” he replied. “Sneaking out like that. Real subtle.”

You slung the bag over your shoulder. “Wasn’t trying to be subtle. Just effective.”

Logan scoffed. “Right. And this little errand of yours—it’s just about gettin’ cash?”

“That’s exactly what it is.” You met his eyes, unwavering. “I came here to get what I need. Then I’m leaving.”

His jaw tightened. “And by ‘leaving,’ you mean what? Takin’ off across the country? Across the world?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yeah,” he said sharply. “It does.”

You clenched your jaw, adjusting the bag strap. “Not to you.”

Logan’s brows furrowed, a flicker of something in his eyes—frustration, maybe something else. “You really think I don’t give a shit?”

You exhaled, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Logan—”

“No, you listen,” he cut in, stepping closer. “You don’t wanna stick around, fine. You wanna take off with the kid, start fresh? I get it. But you don’t get to act like I don’t care.”

You looked away, pressing your lips together.

“I know I ain’t him,” Logan continued, voice lower now. “And you ain’t her. But that doesn’t mean I’m just gonna let you walk away without sayin’ a damn word.”

A lump formed in your throat, but you swallowed it down. “Fine.” You walked out of the unit and picked up the lock you’d tossed to the floor. You threw it toward Logan, not bothering to hide the annoyance in your voice. “Mind lockin’ up for me? Thanks.”

Without waiting for a response, you turned on your heel and headed down the narrow hallway, duffel bag weighing on your shoulder. You knew he’d follow. Hell, part of you expected it. Still, you kept your pace brisk, eyes forward, determined not to let him see the mess of emotions churning behind your calm façade.

Sure enough, you heard his footsteps closing in on you just a few seconds later. “Hey,” he called, his tone halfway between annoyed and concerned, “hold up.”

You didn’t stop. “I don’t recall askin’ for backup, Logan.”

“Yeah, well,” he said, voice low, “I didn’t ask for your permission.”

Rolling your eyes, you quickened your stride. “This is none of your business. I just need what’s in that storage unit. Then I’m done.”

“Done with what?” He stayed right on your heels. “You keep sayin’ you’re leaving, but leaving for where?”

“Somewhere that isn’t here,” you shot back, pushing open the heavy exit door. The chill of the evening air hit you like a slap, but you welcomed it. At least it was better than the stale, fluorescent-lit corridor.

Logan grabbed the door before it slammed shut, following you outside. “And what about Laura?”

“What about her?” You spun around to face him, jaw tight. “She’s comin’ with me. That’s it. We’ve both been through enough.”

“Enough of what, exactly?” His gaze flicked to the duffel bag. “You got money, IDs, weapons in there? Where’re you even plannin’ on goin’?”

You tightened your grip on the strap, resisting the urge to throw a punch at the damn question. “Somewhere quiet. A place we can actually live. Maybe not a perfect life, but a life that’s ours, away from… all of this. Away from Wade and the insanity he brings. Away from you.”

Logan’s expression clouded, though he tried to mask it behind a scowl. “Could just as easily do that in New York. Wade might be a pain in the ass, but he’s not forcing you to stay.”

You huffed a humorless laugh. “Because it’s so easy, right? Laura and I just hole up in some apartment, pretend everything’s normal when half the city’s got vigilantes flyin’ around? When there are still people lookin’ for us—always will be?” You shook your head, glancing at the ground. “No. We’re done with that.”

He took a step closer, voice lowering. “So that’s it. You’re gonna vanish and start over. Another new name, new ID, new everything.”

You shrugged, trying to ignore the flutter of guilt. “Worked before. It’ll work again.”

For a second, you both fell silent. A car drove by in the distance, headlights flashing across the storage facility’s cracked walls. You squared your shoulders, forcing yourself not to look at him. The way he studied your face was too familiar, too painful.

Finally, Logan cleared his throat. “I know I’m not him.” His tone had lost some of its edge. “I’m not your Logan, and you’re not… mine. But that doesn’t mean I’m about to stand here and watch you self-destruct.”

Your breath caught, heart pounding in your chest. “Self-destruct?” you echoed, voice trembling with anger. “That’s rich, comin’ from the guy who’s been drinking himself into oblivion every night since I laid eyes on him.”

He clenched his jaw, but he didn’t deny it. “I’m not sayin’ I got my shit together. I’m sayin’ you don’t have to do this alone.”

“How ‘bout you cut the crap,” you fired back. “We don’t know each other. We’re strangers. I’ve known you for, what, two days? I’m doing what’s best for my daughter. And if that includes taking her out of this state, then that’s what I’m gonna do.”

Logan’s expression darkened, his patience fraying at the edges. “You really think you can just pack up and disappear?”

You tightened your grip on the duffel bag, your stance unwavering. “Worked before.”

“That’s not an answer.” He stepped closer, his voice low, edged with frustration. “You’re actin’ like I’m some kinda obstacle. Like I’m one more thing you gotta shake off before you can breathe easy.”

You huffed a humorless laugh. “That’s exactly what you are.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “Bullshit.”

You rolled your eyes and turned to leave, but his voice stopped you cold.

“You’re runnin’,” he said.

You exhaled sharply, spinning back around. “I am not running.”

“Feels like you are.”

“No, Logan, you don’t get it.” Your voice sharpened, cutting through the tension like a blade. “This isn’t about you. This isn’t about Wade. This is about Laura. About what we need.”

Logan’s eyes flickered with something unreadable. “And what? You think ditchin’ the only people who’ve got your back is the answer?”

“I think getting away from this life—your life—is the answer.”

Something shifted in his expression, something bitter and tired. “So that’s it? You wanna go play house somewhere, pretend none of this ever happened?”

You squared your shoulders, forcing yourself not to flinch at the weight of his words. “No one’s pretending anything. I just don’t want to look over my shoulder every damn day.”

Logan scoffed, shaking his head. “Yeah? And what happens when the past catches up to you? Because it always does.”

You stepped forward, closing the space between you. “Then I’ll deal with it. But I’m done doing it your way.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The night air pressed in, thick with everything left unsaid. Logan’s gaze burned into you, searching, waiting. But you didn’t give him the answer he wanted.

He exhaled, looking away. “You’re makin’ a mistake.”

“Maybe,” you admitted. “But it’s mine to make.”

Logan clenched his jaw, nostrils flaring. You half expected him to argue, to push, to demand something from you. But instead, he just nodded, stepping aside.

“Fine,” he said, voice gruff. “Do what you gotta do.”

You didn’t linger. Didn’t give yourself time to second-guess. You adjusted the strap on your shoulder and walked past him without another word.

As you disappeared into the night, Logan stayed where he was, fists clenched, jaw tight. Watching.

Letting you go.

---

The car you bought from a used-car dealership was silent, other than the radio softly playing pop music that Laura liked as she stared out the window, her sunglasses over her eyes.

You had just exited the New York City traffic and were heading south—but other than that, you didn’t know where you were going. Maybe you would stop somewhere in Pennsylvania, or West Virgina if you were lucky.

Laura tapped her fingers against her knee in rhythm with the song playing on the radio, her sunglasses perched on her nose as she stared out the window. The highway stretched ahead, empty except for a few distant cars.

"You know where we're stopping?" she asked, her tone casual, but there was an undercurrent of curiosity.

You kept your hands on the wheel, eyes scanning the road ahead. "Not yet. Somewhere quiet, somewhere we can lay low for a bit."

Laura tilted her head slightly, still watching the trees blur past. "So, nowhere specific."

"Nowhere specific," you confirmed.

She nodded, letting a few moments pass before speaking again. "You think he's following us?"

You exhaled through your nose, gripping the wheel a little tighter. "Probably."

Laura hummed. "You gonna punch him if he shows up?"

You smirked. "Maybe."

Laura smirked back, adjusting her sunglasses. "Can I watch?"

"If he pushes his luck, I'll make sure you get front-row seats."

Silence settled between you, only broken by the soft hum of the music and the occasional sound of the tires on the road.

Then, Laura spoke again, her voice quieter. "You sure about this?"

You glanced at her briefly before turning back to the road. "What do you mean?"

She shrugged. "Just… we’ve been running for a long time. Feels like that’s all we ever do. What happens when we stop?"

Your fingers flexed on the wheel. "Then we figure it out."

Laura nodded slowly, like she was mulling it over. Then, after a beat, she said, "We’re out of snacks."

You snorted. "I’ll stop at the next gas station."

"Good." She leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms. "But if he shows up, I’m picking the next destination."

"Deal," you said.

Neither of you said it out loud, but you both knew Logan would catch up eventually. The only question was when.

---

“Whaddya think about Florida?” you asked, swirling your milkshake with the red-and-white striped straw. After two days of driving, you and Laura had landed in Nashville—not exactly planned, but necessary. The money situation was getting tight, and you had a stash here.

Laura sat across from you in the dingy diner booth, picking at the fries on her plate. Her sunglasses were still on, even though the place was dimly lit, the neon “Open 24 Hours” sign flickering against the window beside you.

She shrugged. “Kinda humid, isn’t it?”

You snorted. “That’s your issue with Florida?”

She popped a fry into her mouth. “I don’t like humidity.”

“Well, we’re runnin’ out of options,” you said, taking another sip of your milkshake. “I’d rather not head west, too many people I don’t wanna run into. And the north? I’m done with the cold.”

Laura considered that, chewing thoughtfully. “So, Florida.”

“Yeah.”

She tapped her fingers against the table. “Ever been?”

“A couple times,” you admitted. “But never long enough to get comfortable.”

Laura leaned back, arms crossed. “What’s in Florida?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Hopefully? A quiet place. Some space. Enough cash to keep us moving if we need to.”

Laura was quiet for a beat, then said, “And what if we don’t need to?”

Your hand froze over your cup. You looked up at her, but she wasn’t looking at you—she was staring at her plate, pushing a fry around in the ketchup.

You exhaled, setting your drink down. “Then we don’t.”

Laura didn’t say anything, but she nodded slightly, like she was mulling it over.

You let the silence settle for a moment before reaching into your jacket pocket and pulling out a small envelope. You slid it across the table.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“Fake IDs. A couple different names for you, just in case.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Where’s yours?”

You smirked. “I’ve been doin’ this longer than you, muñeca. Mine are already handled.”

Laura picked up the envelope, flipping through the IDs. Her lips twitched when she landed on one. “Carla?”

You rolled your eyes. “It was short notice.”

Laura shook her head, stuffing the envelope into her pocket. “How much cash do we have left?”

“Enough to get us a motel for the night,” you said. “Then I’ll hit the stash in the morning, and we’ll go from there.”

She tapped her nails against the table. “And if someone’s watching it?”

You took another sip of your milkshake. “Then I deal with it.”

Laura didn’t argue, but she gave you a look.

You raised an eyebrow. “What?”

She tilted her head slightly. “You sure you don’t want him to come after us?”

You froze for half a second before scoffing. “Logan?”

Laura shrugged, popping another fry in her mouth. “I mean, it’d be kinda funny. Watching him all pissed off, trying to track us down.”

You smirked. “I’d give it a day before he gave up and found a bar instead.”

Laura chuckled, shaking her head. “Yeah. Probably.”

The conversation shifted after that—lighter, easier. You finished your food, paid in cash, and headed back to the car.

As you pulled onto the empty road, Laura leaned back against the passenger seat, her feet propped up on the dashboard. “If we go to Florida, I’m picking the first place we stop.”

“Deal.”

The road stretched ahead, dark and open, with nothing but the hum of the engine and the occasional song crackling from the radio.

For now, it was enough.

---

The Florida heat wasn’t as unbearable as you’d expected. It was different from the suffocating summers in New York or the bone-chilling winters in Canada. Here, everything moved slower—the ocean waves rolling onto the sand, the palm trees swaying in the breeze, the distant hum of cicadas at night. For the first time in a long time, you and Laura weren’t running.

The job at the high school had been a last-minute decision, something stable to keep you grounded. It wasn’t hard work—not compared to everything else you’d done in your life. Wrangling teenagers in gym class was nothing compared to dodging bullets or teaching mutant children to use their powers. And Laura? She was doing good. She got her GED, started talking about what she wanted to do next. It was a normal life, or as close as either of you could get to one.

You leaned back in your chair on the porch, the scent of saltwater drifting through the air. Laura was sitting across from you, flipping through a book while picking at the remnants of her dinner.

"You gonna eat that or just mutilate it?" you asked, raising a brow at the half-demolished slice of pizza on her plate.

Laura shrugged, still looking at her book. "Not hungry."

You snorted, reaching over and stealing a piece of crust. "Then quit wasting good food."

She kicked your shin under the table, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to make a point. "I was getting to it."

"Sure you were." You chewed the crust, glancing out at the ocean beyond the dunes. The sky was starting to darken, the sun dipping below the horizon, casting everything in shades of orange and pink.

Laura shut her book with a soft thud. "You think he's still looking for us?"

You didn’t need to ask who she meant. "Probably."

She rested her chin in her hand. "You miss him?"

The question made you pause, your fingers tightening slightly around the crust before you set it down. "I don’t know."

Laura gave you a look. "Liar."

You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. "It’s complicated."

"It always is with you two."

You huffed out a quiet laugh. "And how would you know?"

Laura smirked. "Because you get that look whenever I bring him up."

You frowned. "What look?"

"The one you’re making right now."

You rolled your eyes, leaning back in your chair. "Even if I did miss him—which I don’t—it wouldn’t matter. He’s not the same Logan, and I’m not sticking around to see if he turns into him."

Laura was quiet for a moment before she said, "He still came after us."

"Yeah, and?"

"And that means something."

You shook your head. "It means he’s stubborn."

"Or it means he cares."

You scoffed. "He knew us for two days."

Laura shrugged. "Sometimes that’s enough."

You didn’t have an answer to that. Instead, you picked at the label on your beer bottle, watching the condensation roll down the glass.

After a while, Laura stood up, stretching. "I’m going to bed."

You nodded, not looking up. "Night, muñeca."

She hesitated for a second. "You’d tell me if you wanted to go back, right?"

You finally looked at her, meeting her eyes. "I don’t want to go back."

Laura studied you for a moment before nodding. "Okay."

She disappeared inside, leaving you alone with the sound of the waves and the quiet hum of your thoughts.

You didn’t want to go back.

But that didn’t mean you didn’t expect him to show up.

---

He showed up.

You were walking out of the store, picking up some more food since Laura ate a lot, when you saw him across the street, talking to some guy.

It was clear he hadn’t seen you—if he did, it would’ve been a miracle, spotting you in a parking lot full of suburban moms and their SUV’s. You quickly put the final bag in the trunk and closed it, getting into the driver’s seat, glad that an SUV was blocking the window, and of course that you were wearing a wig.

You scrolled through your phone, quickly looking up plane tickets before purchasing two for Anaheim, California, which left in three hours. It would be a short trip, long enough to take Laura out to Disneyland—somewhere she wanted to go when she was younger, and maybe see the sights before coming back.

With the tickets secured, you tossed your phone onto the passenger seat and gripped the steering wheel, exhaling slowly. You could still see Logan across the street, standing near a bar, talking to some guy you didn’t recognize. His stance was the same as always—broad, solid, like he was ready for a fight even when there wasn’t one. You couldn’t tell if he was actively looking for you or if it was just dumb luck that put him in the same town. Either way, it didn’t matter.

You put the car in drive, pulling out of the parking lot with careful ease. No sudden movements. No panic. You were good at this—disappearing.

By the time you got home, Laura was already sprawled on the couch, flipping through channels with half a bag of chips resting on her stomach. She barely glanced up when you walked in.

"Got food," you said, setting the bags on the counter.

"About time," Laura muttered, grabbing another chip. "I was starting to think you got lost or arrested."

"Very funny," you deadpanned, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. "Pack a bag."

That got her attention. She sat up, eyeing you with suspicion. "For what?"

"California," you answered, twisting the cap off your bottle. "Leaving in a few hours."

Laura blinked. "Wait… what?"

"You heard me," you said, taking a sip. "Disneyland. Quick trip."

She narrowed her eyes. "You saw him, didn’t you?"

You paused mid-drink before lowering the bottle. "Doesn’t matter."

"That’s a yes," she muttered, tossing the remote onto the couch. "You’re seriously dragging me to Disneyland just to avoid him?"

"I’m taking you to Disneyland because I promised," you corrected. "Avoiding him is just a bonus."

Laura folded her arms. "You know he’s gonna find us eventually."

"Probably," you admitted, leaning against the counter. "But not today."

Laura exhaled through her nose, clearly debating whether or not to argue. Finally, she stood up, brushing chip crumbs off her shirt.

"I’m picking the first ride," she said.

You smirked. "Deal."

---

The airport was busy but not unbearable. You and Laura moved through security without issue, your fake IDs holding up just as they always did. It was second nature at this point. The two of you boarded the plane, settling into your seats with practiced ease.

Laura put her headphones in, shutting the world out almost immediately. You, on the other hand, couldn’t quite relax. You had that feeling again—that gnawing sense that you were being watched, even when you knew you weren’t.

Logan would look for you. You knew that much. But you also knew how to stay ahead of him.

For now, at least.

You leaned back in your seat, closing your eyes. Just a few days away. That was all you needed.

Just a few days.

---

“Wade,” Logan growled into the phone. “Your contact was fucking useless. They’re not here.”

There was a pause on the other end before Wade let out an exaggerated gasp. “Oh no! You mean my totally legitimate, not-at-all shady informant lied? Color me shocked.”

Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling through his teeth. “You told me they were still in Florida.”

“Well, yeah, because I thought they were,” Wade replied, his voice way too casual. “Turns out, your little murder mom and stabby daughter are really good at vanishing. Who knew?”

Logan clenched his jaw, his patience wearing dangerously thin. “Did you actually talk to this guy, or did you just pull a name outta your ass and hope for the best?”

“Okay, first of all, rude,” Wade said. “Second of all, I did talk to him. And third of all, I’m beginning to think you have trust issues.”

Logan let out a low growl, glancing around the dimly lit parking lot. He had been following a lead for hours, only to find himself at a dead end. Again. “You got anything else, Wilson, or am I wasting my time?”

“Well, I mean, if you’re asking me—”

“I wasn’t.”

“Fair,” Wade admitted. “But if I had to guess—and I am very good at guessing—I’d say Y/N is doing what she does best.”

“And what’s that?” Logan asked, already annoyed by whatever bullshit answer was coming.

“Running.”

Logan’s grip on the phone tightened. He knew it was true, even before Wade said it. He had seen enough of you to know your patterns, and disappearing was your specialty.

Still, something about it didn’t sit right. You had said goodbye. He just hadn’t wanted you to go.

“So what’s your next move, grumpy pants?” Wade asked.

Logan exhaled sharply, kicking at a loose rock on the pavement. “I don’t know yet.”

“Well, I do,” Wade said. “You stop chasing her like a crazy ex-boyfriend and let her live her life.”

Logan ignored the jab. “They ain’t safe on their own.”

“Oh, please,” Wade scoffed. “Y/N could take both of us in a fight with one hand tied behind her back. And Laura? That kid is a human blender with anger issues. What exactly are you worried about?”

Logan didn’t answer.

Wade sighed dramatically. “Look, I get it. You’ve got feelings—gross. But maybe, just maybe, you should consider that she doesn’t want to be found.”

Logan clenched his jaw, saying nothing.

“Or, you know, keep chasing her,” Wade continued. “Nothing screams ‘healthy relationship’ like stalking.”

Logan ended the call without another word.

He stood there for a moment, jaw tight, before slipping his phone back into his pocket. His eyes scanned the quiet street, but there was nothing. No sign of you.

Not yet, anyway.

---

It was the first time in a while—months—that you saw Laura this happy. Being in the Void had been hard on both of you, but now, as you walked around Disneyland with Mickey Mouse ears perched on your head and a churro in hand, things felt lighter.

Laura, wearing her own pair of ears, pointed toward one of the bigger roller coasters. “That one.”

You raised an eyebrow, taking a bite of your churro. “You sure? You’ve got that look.”

“What look?” she asked, arms crossed.

“The look you get when you won’t admit you’re nervous.”

Laura scoffed, turning toward the ride again. “I’m not nervous.”

You smirked. “Uh-huh.”

“Are we going or not?”

You chewed thoughtfully, glancing up at the towering structure of the coaster. “I dunno. I’m kinda enjoying this churro.”

Laura grabbed your wrist and started dragging you toward the line. “You can eat and walk.”

You laughed, letting her pull you along. “Pushy.”

As the two of you weaved through the crowd, the excitement buzzing in the air was infectious. Kids in princess dresses, parents trying to wrangle toddlers, and groups of friends laughing between bites of overpriced snacks. It was normal.

By the time you reached the front of the line, Laura was practically bouncing on her heels.

“You gonna scream?” you teased, nudging her.

She shot you a look. “No.”

You snorted. “We’ll see.”

The ride operator waved you forward, and you both climbed into the seats, pulling the safety bars down.

As the coaster lurched forward, Laura gripped the handlebar a little tighter.

You smirked. “Told you.”

She didn’t have time to retort before the coaster shot up the first incline. The wind rushed past you, the clanking of the tracks beneath adding to the anticipation. Then, the drop.

Laura let out a yell—not quite a scream, but close enough.

You threw your hands up, laughing. “Told you!”

“Shut up!”

The ride twisted and turned, the loops pulling at your stomach in a way that was both exhilarating and oddly grounding. For those few minutes, there was no running, no fighting—just pure, unfiltered fun.

When the ride finally slowed, Laura’s breathing was slightly heavier, her face flushed from the rush. You grinned at her. “Admit it, that was fun.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.

As you stepped off the ride and made your way back into the park, Laura bumped her shoulder against yours. “Okay, you pick the next one.”

You took another bite of your churro, already eyeing the spinning teacups. “Oh, you’re gonna regret that.”

---

The fireworks exploded in bursts of color, painting the night sky over Disneyland. The crowd around you and Laura watched in awe, gasps and murmurs of excitement filling the air. Laura sat cross-legged on the grass, her arms resting on her knees as she stared up at the display.

"You know," you said, breaking the comfortable silence between you, "when I was your age, I never got to do this kind of thing."

Laura glanced at you, one eyebrow raised. "Watch fireworks?"

"Have a normal night," you corrected. You leaned back on your hands, feeling the cool grass beneath your palms. "Theme parks, vacations, junk food... not exactly things you get when you're trained to kill people before you hit puberty."

Laura hummed in acknowledgment, turning her gaze back to the sky. "Guess we’ve got that in common."

You exhaled through your nose, nodding. "Yeah. But at least we’re here now."

She didn’t say anything for a moment, just let the fireworks crackle above her. Then, almost reluctantly, she said, "It’s weird."

"What is?"

"Not having to fight," she admitted. "Being... normal."

You tilted your head, watching her carefully. "Do you like it?"

Laura shrugged, pulling at a loose thread on her jeans. "Yeah. I think so."

You smiled, though she wasn’t looking at you. "Good."

The fireworks continued, shimmering reflections dancing across Laura’s sunglasses. The two of you sat in easy silence, the kind that didn’t need filling.

Eventually, Laura spoke again, quieter this time. "How did you and dad get together?”

You glanced at Laura, the question catching you off guard. She was still watching the fireworks, her expression neutral, but you knew her well enough to recognize when she was fishing for something.

You took a slow breath, leaning back on your hands. "That’s kind of a long story, kid."

Laura shrugged. "We’ve got time."

You huffed a small laugh, shaking your head. "Yeah, I guess we do."

For a moment, you just watched the bursts of color in the sky, letting the memories settle in before you spoke. "When Ororo first brought me to the mansion I had heard stories of the X-Men—and of the Wolverine. I kinda hated them all at first, how they were able to live an almost normal life even though they were all mutants.”

You shrugged, “took me a while to get used to them—to tolerate them. Took me the longest to get used to Logan though.”

Laura glanced at you, her expression unreadable behind her sunglasses. "Why?"

You let out a short breath, watching the last of the fireworks fade into the sky. “From the second I arrived he was always… there. Not in a ‘grumpy old man’ way like I thought he would be, but he would save me a spot for dinner, did the chores I didn’t want to do that Scott assigned me. Hell, he was the first person to show me Star Wars."

Laura turned her head toward you, adjusting her sunglasses. “Wait. You had never seen Star Wars before?”

You smirked. “Believe it or not, I had other things to do growing up.”

Laura hummed in response. After a moment, she said, “So, was that when you knew?”

“Knew what?”

“That you loved him.”

You hesitated, watching as a little girl in a princess dress skipped past, holding her father’s hand.

“No,” you said finally. “Not then.”

Laura raised an eyebrow. “Then when?”

You thought about that for a second. “I don’t know. I guess all the gestures caught up to me. The way he wasn’t afraid to be around me like some of the others were. It wasn’t until one night when I snapped at him, asking him why he had been doing all this that he confessed.”

Laura shifted slightly, crossing her arms over her knees. "Confessed?"

You huffed a quiet laugh, shaking your head at the memory. "Yeah. It wasn’t some big romantic moment. It was just… him being honest. Told me he wasn’t the type to say things out loud unless they meant something. Said he didn’t expect me to feel the same, but that he wasn’t gonna pretend he didn’t care."

Laura raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"And… I kissed him," you admitted, a small smirk tugging at your lips. "Told him he was an idiot for waiting so long to say it."

Laura scoffed. "Sounds about right."

You tilted your head, glancing at her. "What, you expected some fairytale confession? A love letter? Logan wasn’t that type of guy."

Laura shook her head. "No, I just… I don’t know. It’s weird thinking of him like that. Like, all soft."

"He wasn’t soft," you corrected. "He was still stubborn as hell, still grumpy, still fought me on just about everything. But he never made me doubt how he felt."

Laura was quiet for a moment, looking back up at the sky. "Guess that’s what matters."

"Yeah," you said softly, following her gaze. "It is."

A comfortable silence settled between you as the last of the fireworks fizzled out, leaving nothing but smoke trails and the distant hum of the park.

"So," Laura said after a moment, "if he never said anything that night, do you think you would've?"

You thought about that, your fingers tapping against your knee. "Eventually. But he beat me to it."

Laura nodded, processing that. "Good thing he did."

You smiled slightly. "Yeah. It was."

Another pause. Then, in a quieter voice, Laura asked, "Do you think you'd ever—" She stopped herself, shaking her head.

You turned to her. "What?"

"Nothing."

You studied her for a second before letting it go. Instead, you nudged her shoulder. "C'mon, we've got one last ride before the park closes. You promised I got to pick the next one."

Laura groaned but got to her feet anyway. "If it’s the teacups, I’m never forgiving you."

You grinned, standing up. "Guess you’ll have to find out."

As the two of you made your way through the thinning crowd, Laura side-eyed you. "You know, for someone who says they don’t like talking about the past, you sure didn’t shut up about it."

You shrugged. "Maybe you caught me in a good mood."

Laura smirked. "Or maybe you just like remembering the good parts."

You didn’t respond to that. You didn’t have to.

Because maybe she was right.

---

After coming back from Disneyland the lightness didn’t leave. Maybe because it was the first ‘normal’ thing you two had done in months—maybe ever. Just a mother and daughter enjoying their time together.

The grocery store was quiet for a weekday afternoon—just the usual crowd of retirees, moms wrangling their toddlers, and bored cashiers going through the motions. You moved through the aisles quickly, grabbing the essentials: eggs, bread, milk, and way too many snacks to keep up with Laura’s ridiculous metabolism.

You checked your list, crossing off the last item, before making your way toward the checkout. As you tossed the groceries onto the conveyor belt, you let yourself breathe. Things were steady. Normal.

Laura was getting comfortable, and, for the first time in a long time, so were you.

It wasn’t permanent—you knew that much. But for now, it was enough.

You grabbed a carton of ice cream, but something made you pause. That feeling. The faintest prickle at the back of your neck. The one that always hit when someone was watching you.

Cautiously, you moved closer to a nearby Employees Only doorway, keeping your expression neutral as you reached for a yogurt on the shelf. You adjusted your grip on the container, using the reflective surface of the glass door to scan the store behind you.

There.

A figure standing near the magazine rack, pretending to skim through an issue of Sports Illustrated. Too broad-shouldered to be just any guy, too stiff to be casual. You knew that build. That stance.

Logan.

Your stomach clenched, but you kept your movements easy, natural. It didn’t make sense. He shouldn’t still be here. You had been gone for days—long enough that he should’ve moved on, left Florida entirely. You had given him nothing to follow. No trail, no leads.

So how the hell did he find you?

You put the yogurt back, pretending to consider a different brand. The reflection shifted—Logan wasn’t at the magazine rack anymore. He was moving. Closer.

Before you could react, a hand grabbed your wrist, pulling you toward the Employees Only door.

Big mistake.

Years of training kicked in before you even thought about it. You twisted sharply, breaking the grip, and slammed the person into the wall inside the backroom. Your dagger was out in a flash, pressed firmly against their throat.

Logan.

His jaw was tight, eyes sharp but not surprised. He barely reacted to the blade at his neck, just met your gaze with that same unreadable expression.

“Took you long enough,” he muttered.

Your grip on the dagger tightened. “I should gut you for grabbing me like that.”

Logan arched a brow. “Go ahead. Might be the only way to get rid of me at this point.”

You exhaled sharply through your nose, pissed but not at him. At yourself. Because you should’ve known he’d find you. You should’ve been more careful.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you asked, your voice low.

Logan smirked slightly, like the answer was obvious. “Lookin’ for you.”

“Try again.”

He held your stare, his throat moving slightly under the blade. “Not here to fight, darlin’. Just talk.”

You scoffed. “That why you dragged me back here? Didn’t exactly scream ‘peaceful conversation.’”

“You were gonna bolt.”

“Damn right I was.”

Logan exhaled through his nose, his patience clearly thinning. “Can you put the knife down?”

You hesitated, then pressed it a little harder—not enough to break the skin, but enough to prove a point. “Give me one good reason.”

Logan held up his hands in mock surrender. “Ain’t gonna hurt you.”

“That’s not a reason.”

He sighed, then, softer this time, “Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”

Your stomach twisted, but you ignored it, stepping back as you lowered the dagger. Logan exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders as if he’d been expecting you to actually use it.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

“Don’t thank me yet,” you shot back. “Because if you don’t explain yourself in the next ten seconds, I’m gonna drag your ass out of here and dump you in a very public place.”

Logan smirked, but there was something tired beneath it. “You sayin’ I can’t handle a crowd?”

“I’m sayin’ I don’t want to deal with security after I kick your ass in front of an audience.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, then leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms. “Been lookin’ for you,” he admitted. “Figured you wouldn’t make it easy, but damn, Y/N.”

You crossed your arms. “Didn’t know I owed you a trail to follow.”

Logan’s jaw flexed, something flickering in his eyes. “You don’t. But that doesn’t mean I was just gonna let you disappear.”

Your fingers curled against your biceps. “Why not? That was the whole point of leaving, Logan.”

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Because I don’t think you actually wanna run.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “You don’t know me.”

Logan tilted his head slightly. “Really? ‘Cause anytime your frustrated with me you get this,” Logan gently traced your skin with his thumb, “little crease between your brows—”

You grabbed his wrist, peeling it away from your face, your grip firm but careful. Logan didn’t resist, just watched you, his expression unreadable. His hand was rough, calloused—familiar and unfamiliar all at once. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet his gaze.

“You don’t get to do that,” you said, voice low.

Logan tilted his head. “Do what?”

“Touch me like that.” You let go of his wrist, stepping back. “Like you know me.”

Logan let out a short breath, his eyes never leaving yours. “I do know you.”

“No,” you corrected. “You know her.”

His jaw clenched, and for a second, you thought he’d argue. Instead, he exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Alright. Maybe I don’t know this you. But I know enough.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Yeah? And what exactly do you think you know?”

Logan’s eyes flickered over you, his expression softer now, more cautious. “I know you’re scared.”

Your stomach twisted. “Of you?”

“No,” he said simply. “Of this.”

You swallowed, your nails digging into your arms. “You’re reaching.”

Logan’s lips twitched in something that wasn’t quite a smirk. “Am I?”

You shook your head, turning toward the exit. “I’m not doing this with you.”

“Yeah, you are,” Logan said, and you felt his presence behind you before he even moved. He wasn’t blocking your way, but he was close enough that you could feel the warmth of him, the weight of his stare. “You can run all you want, sweetheart, but I’ll still be here.”

You gritted your teeth, turning on him. “Why?”

Logan held your gaze, his voice steady. “Because I don’t think you want to leave.”

You let out a sharp laugh, shaking your head. “You don’t know what I want.”

“Don’t I?” He stepped closer, just enough to make your breath hitch. “If you really wanted to disappear, you would’ve done it by now. You know how. Hell, you’ve done it before. But you didn’t.”

“I took Laura to Disneyland,” you shot back. “Not exactly the best place to fall off the grid.”

Logan’s brow arched. “You sure that’s all it was?”

You hated how easily he was reading you—how he saw right through the excuses. He wasn’t wrong. You could’ve taken Laura anywhere. Could’ve changed your names again, disappeared into some far-off city where no one would find you. But you didn’t. Instead, you stayed just close enough. Close enough for him to find you.

Logan’s voice softened. “You keep tellin’ yourself you don’t want this, but you’re still here.”

Your throat tightened. “And what about you?”

Logan’s jaw ticked. “What about me?”

“You followed me,” you said. “I told you I was leaving. I told you I was done. And yet here you are.”

Logan exhaled through his nose, his gaze locked onto yours. “Yeah. Here I am.”

The silence stretched between you, thick with everything you weren’t saying. You hated the way your chest ached, the way his presence felt—not just familiar, but right. And that was the problem, wasn’t it?

You swallowed hard, forcing your voice to stay steady. “You should’ve left.”

Logan didn’t flinch. “So should you.”

You clenched your jaw, your fingers tightening around the strap of your bag. This was dangerous. Not because Logan was a threat, but because he wasn’t. Because for the first time in a long time, someone had chased after you—and you didn’t know what to do with that.

Logan stepped back, giving you space. His expression was unreadable again, but his voice was softer this time. “I’m not gonna force you to stay.” He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a quiet sigh. “But I’m not gonna pretend I don’t give a damn, either.”

Your throat tightened, but you didn’t let it show. Instead, you turned, pushing the exit door open.

You didn’t look back.

But Logan didn’t stop you.

And somehow, that made it worse.

---

You brought the bags of groceries inside, the faint smell of lemon cleaner hitting your nose as you made your way to the kitchen. Laura was sprawled out on the couch, flipping through Netflix with the kind of lazy ease only she could manage.

“You clean?” you asked, setting the bags on the counter.

“Obviously,” she muttered, not looking away from the screen.

You arched a brow, glancing around. The place did look cleaner—the floors weren’t covered in her usual mess of books and abandoned socks, and the kitchen counter was actually visible.

“Wow,” you said, pulling out a carton of eggs. “Guess Disneyland really did change you.”

Laura scoffed. “I just got bored.”

You snorted, shaking your head as you started putting things away. “Whatever you say, muñeca.”

She finally glanced over, eyes narrowing. “You were gone a while.”

“Traffic,” you lied easily, shoving a loaf of bread into the cabinet.

Laura sat up, crossing her legs. “Liar.”

You shot her a look. “Excuse me?”

She tilted her head, studying you like she could see straight through you—which, knowing her, she probably could. “You saw him, didn’t you?”

You didn’t answer right away, focusing instead on the milk you were putting in the fridge.

Laura sighed, rubbing her face. “God. And you didn’t deck him?”

“I didn’t exactly have time,” you muttered, shutting the fridge door with more force than necessary.

“So, what happened?”

“Nothing,” you said, turning to lean against the counter. “He was at the store. He grabbed me. We talked.”

Laura’s brows lifted. “He grabbed you?”

You waved a hand. “Not like that. He pulled me into a back room.”

“That sounds worse.”

“It wasn’t.” You exhaled, crossing your arms. “He just… wanted to talk.”

Laura scoffed, leaning back against the couch. “Right. Because Logan’s known for his communication skills.”

You smirked. “Yeah, well. He tried.”

Laura studied you again, her expression unreadable. “And?”

“And what?”

“What did he say?”

You hesitated, running your tongue along your teeth before answering. “That I don’t really want to run.”

Laura huffed a quiet laugh. “He’s not wrong.”

Your jaw tightened. “It’s not that simple, Laura.”

She shrugged. “Never is.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “It doesn’t matter. We’re here. He’ll move on.”

Laura hummed like she didn’t quite believe that. “If you say so.”

You pushed off the counter, deciding this conversation was over. “Go set the table. I’ll make dinner.”

Laura didn’t argue, just stood up and stretched before heading toward the kitchen. As she passed, she muttered, “You should’ve decked him.”

You smirked, shaking your head. “Maybe next time.”

---

Logan was right—he didn’t leave. But he didn’t force you either.

You assumed he learned your schedule because for the next few weeks he was there, always in the background. After work he’d lean against his truck across the street from the school.

When you went grocery shopping he was there, following from a distance.

remember that there is a second part to this!!

[ijwtbap]

ㅤㅤ★ㅤA promise — Bakugō

— Bakugō x GN! reader.

You like Katsuki, he likes you — is a fact not a maybe. He doesn't seem to believe it thought.

a/n. I had to keep my promise ig. Is VERY short, so im sorry, also Im bad at english, and it is my first one shot, so have some mercy plz.

You were going insane. Just a little bit. Well, actually, you were ready to rip out your hair and scream into the void, standing naked as flames consumed you. That's kind of insane.

Every time Bakugō referred to you as his friend—even if he only said you weren’t that annoying and didn’t mind having you around (which was close enough)—you wanted to disappear.

You had done everything but treat him platonically. Sure, you could see how holding hands, cuddling, or crying together might seem platonic. But kissing in bed and saying “I love you” in a completely serious way?

You were completely lost.

At first, you thought it was a joke, then maybe just a game to him.

But now? Now you’re convinced he’s just... dense.

You could tell Bakugō you love him dead serious while looking him dead in the eyes, on your knees and with a big sign that said 'plz marry me,' and he would still think you're joking.

And it was killing you.

"Are you going to study or what?"

You were in his bedroom, "studying." Yeah, right—studying. You just wanted to be there with him. You’d barged in without warning, and yet, he hadn’t even questioned your presence.

"No."

You knew he liked you back. There was no way he didn't, but fuck, he refused to acknowledge it.

"I like you."

His eyes widen for a second before he looks back at his notes.

"Shut up."

"I really do, tho."

"Yeah, whatever."

"I love you."

"If you don't stop, I will kick you out."

"I love you."

" __________ "

"I love you so much."

"Stop it."

"I want to marry you, one day when we're adults. Small or big wedding, or none at all, whatever you prefer."

"I'm being serious."

"So am I."

You two look at each other, him holding his pen so hard that it looks like it's about to break and you looking at him as if he were the most wonderful and prettiest dense idiot you have seen in your life.

"What do you need me to do to make you believe me?"

He ignores you. Mostly because he knows that paying attention to you would just make him more annoyed (because you clearly weren't going to stop) and because he didn't want to accept it.

"Die."

A small smile comes to your mouth. How many people would get offended by that? A lot, but you knew Bakugō didn't mean it.

"You want to recreate Given now?"

Bakugō rolls his eyes, making more notes in his notebook, but you were able to notice a small smirk.

You had forced him to watch it a couple of months ago, and he swears he didn't cry. You knew the truth, though.

"Shut up."

"Shut me up yourself, you coward."

He lets out another scoff, and he continues to avoid your eyes.

"Study already."

You loved Bakugō Katsuki, and he loved you back.

No matter how much time it would take you, you were going to make sure to take his last name and hold his hand in a not-platonic way.

One day.

"I love you."

I totally didn't use like 3 grammar online correctors, and re read this like 20 times (It will still have an issue, and I know it). I also didn't copy inspired my introduction (?) from a random post.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed my bad writing style. Im not doing this again, unless I get REALLY bored.

521 words.

[bernardsbendystraws]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕 𝒛𝒐𝒏𝒆

⚠︎  mdni, smut, alcohol abuse, parental neglect, overall mature themes, and more [ this is made for all parts ]

⤷ Get to reading, sluts. No copying. Ask if you’d like to use this as ‘inspiration.’ Fuck off and fuck me, lets get horny!!!

with love and big tits, Rose Toy

©bernardsbendystraws

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Chapter 15: Remedies Of Honey

My brain was scattered. No thought was coherent enough to put into words as I laid deathly still in bed, technically, my own bed.

Ironically enough, it didn’t feel like my room. Even though Laura and Madi had helped me move in my things to the simple bedroom, it didn’t feel like it was mine. It felt like a hotel. Matt’s room was the scene that came in my mind as I thought of ‘my’ room. 

Matt. 

His name echoed in the walls of my head with utter confusion. He wasn’t a liar. The only time he had ever lied was to protect me. I watched him time and time again be the sweetest person to everyone around him, always supporting those he cared about. 

I thought I was one of those people. Now, I wasn’t so sure. 

With my dad, it wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t surprising either. He had never shown me that he cared. He had never tried to care. 

Matt was different. 

Matt clouded the air around me with a sickening sweetness that I had become accustomed to. The subtle lingering touches that he littered on my body constantly felt like a breath of relief. So natural and easy, yet something I had never even dreamed of having in my life. 

Love scared me. I didn’t know anything about it. With Matt, I didn’t used to be scared, but with every rustle of the branches outside my window, time seemed to take its toll as my thoughts seeped in with unanswerable questions. 

Why would he not tell me?

What else was he not telling me? 

My phone screen had replayed the same video a multitude of times I zoned out. A message popping down from the top of my screen brought my attention back to reality. 

[From Matt: Hey, everything okay? Nick told me you’ve sent him like 30 TikToks, why aren’t you asleep?]

My fingers stay frozen in place as I watch the notification disappear. Was this all just out of pity? Was this his escape? 

Did he ever even want me? 

[From Matt: I’m coming over to pick you up. Meet me outside in five?] 

I huff at the message, pulling open the chat. My fingers hesitate over the electronic keyboard. 

[To Matt: Why?] 

[From Matt: Please. Nick and Madi were texting and he told me what happened. It’s not what you think.] 

[To Matt: Okay] 

I reluctantly pull the covers off of my body, stepping out to the cool air in the simple t-shirt and sweats. Both Matt’s. 

Had I really let him consume every inch of me already? 

I flatten the material of the wrinkled shirt while stepping out of the room. Quietly, I make my way down the stairs. I patter towards the front door, grasping my keychain tightly to prevent the metal jingling. 

I pull the door open ajar, stopping at the squeal of the wind rushing through the void. My eyes peer through the crack, Matt’s flushed cheeks puffing with heaving breaths of air. 

I squeeze through the door, shutting and locking it behind me as I listen to Matt’s breathless huffs. As I turn around, he reaches out a hand. My hands stay trained at my sides as I glance down at the open palm. 

“Please,” he says with a pleading tone. “---I can explain. Please, just…just trust me.” he finishes. 

Nodding slowly, I put my hand in his. His fingers clasp around almost instantaneously in a secure, gentle manner. “Where are we going?” I ask. 

He shakes his head, pulling me behind his stride between the two houses and into his backyard. “Just…trust me, okay?” he says. 

Squeezing my hand in his, our pace quickens down the dirt path. “Okay.” I say quietly. 

The light posts fade into the distance from the street, leaving only moonlight. Step after step, the lake comes into view. The shining reflection of the night sky makes my eyes wander over the water. 

Matt reaches over to the tree, grabbing the picnic blanket that had been slung between the oak branches. He drops my hand, flicking out the large square of fabric. The blanket lands, covering the section of grass with the blue checkered pattern of material. 

He sits down on the blanket, pulling his knees up to his chest and crossing his arms over his knees. He looks up at me, the silver moon dancing in his irises. I melt under his gaze. My knees buckle as I land softly next to him. I mimic his position. 

My eyes glance back towards the water, my head urging me to lean on to his shoulder. The tired ambiance of my brain lets my subconscious fall to action. I let my neck relax, my temple resting lightly on his shoulder. 

A sigh of relief escapes my lips as I feel one of his hands wrap around, cradling my head. How could I not trust him? 

The secret weighing down on me had felt so heavy alone in my bed, but it didn’t anymore. Not here with him. The doubts seeped through the cracks of my mind like water. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask. 

His shoulder rises and falls with a hefty breath beneath my head. “I was going to. I really was, I just—I didn’t know how. I tried, I really did, I swear. But…” he trails off. I feel the comforting weight of his head fall gently on top of mine. 

“But?” I urge. 

“I didn’t know how and I could never find the right time. I was first gonna tell you after my hockey game. The one, well, the one where, you know…” he airy words seep through the breeze. 

“Then,” he rubs the side of my head with his hand briefly. “--everything just kept going wrong. It hurt to see you crying every night, I couldn’t put more on your plate.” he says. 

My heart softens at his words. He was doing it for me, not to me. His intentions were as pure as his soul. My muscles fall more relaxed against him with the comforting aura of his affirmation. 

“I’m sorry. I should’ve–” I bring my head off his shoulder. His eyes gleam into mine with a somber gaze. I reach out my hand, caressing the underside of his cheek. I look between both of his eyes with a soft smile displayed on my face, watching the wrinkles relax between his eyebrows. 

“It’s okay, Matt. I trust you. I understand.” The truth leaves my lips as I watch his teeth peek out from his curled lips. As we look into each other’s eyes, I find myself unable to take my eyes off of his. 

I see his eyes travel down to my lips, darting quickly back up to my eyes. I lean into him, letting my eyes close. Anticipation floods my system as I feel his breath fan across my lips. 

His hand comes up, wrapping around the back of my neck and gently pulling me towards him. Our lips meet with a soft kiss, the warmth of his mouth seeping onto mine. I feel the tip of his nose graze my cheek as he pours passion from his lips with each movement. 

I put my hand onto his shoulder. My head tilts upward, chasing his lips with a soft and slow energy. He matches my rhythm, my stomach fluttering from the sensual lingering movements. My lungs begin to scream for air. I find myself unable to pull away, chasing the delicate beckoning of his lips calling my own. 

A soft smack echoes through the withering wind. He leans his head down, his forehead resting against mine. Our breaths combine with breathless gasps of air. The lack of air makes my mind even hazier, intensifying the feeling from the intoxicating passion from his lips. 

“I…I bought you a ticket to come with us to LA for spring–” he says. I let out a soft laugh, interrupting him. 

“I know, Madi told me. You’re insane. I can’t believe you bought me a plane ticket.” I exclaim softly. His eyes look into mine through the short distance. I notice every detail that the moonlight highlights. The pale color of his blue eyes is like ice, but looking at the hue of color makes me feel nothing but warm. 

He smiles at me. My cheeks ache from the extraneous use of the muscle, my lips still pulsating from the kiss. “I don’t wanna pressure you, I…I just want you to see what life could be like out there…with me.” he says.

He doesn’t want to leave me. He wants to leave with me. 

I bite down on the soft flesh of the inside of my cheek, fighting back an award winning grin. My stomach swirls with excitement and a feeling of extreme care towards the soft man sitting in front of me. 

“I’d love to.” I express. I see his lips curve downward, an upside down smile forming with resistance. He shakes his head with a light chuckle, the movement moving my own head in the slightest against his. 

He looks back up at me through his eyelashes, a sight I immediately try to engrave in my memory. “I’d really love to.” I emphasize. He sucks his lips between his teeth before scrunching his nose with a smile. 

“There’s no pressure though, okay? Even if you don’t come–” his smile falters at the thought. “--I’m still coming back to visit all the time. I want you to do whatever makes you happy, no matter what–I’ll visit you.” he finishes. 

What makes me happy? 

He makes me happy, Madi makes me happy, his family makes me happy, but what else? 

“Hey,” he squeezes on my shoulder. I snapped my eyes back at him, realizing I had spaced out with the taunting thoughts. “--what are you pouting about?” he asks. 

“I…” my mind wanders back and forth. He brings his hand up, caressing my hair behind my ear and bringing my attention back to his eyes. “I don’t know what I want to do, Matt. I’ve always been so worried about everything else…I just, I don’t know.” I sigh. 

“I don’t even know my favorite things.” I mutter out with disappointment. The sinking weight clambers down on my chest as I feel the warmth of his forehead against mine dissipate. I lean back from him, my eyes trained on the blue checkered material between my hands resting on the blanket. 

His fingers loop beneath my chin, pulling my head upwards. He looks in my eyes with a sparkle of moonlight reflecting in his pupils as they dilate. “You do.” he says. I shake my head reluctantly with a slight frown. 

I go to object, my lips parting. “You do.” he repeats. I look up at him as my head tilts to the side, leaning with a huff. “Come on…you do, I know you do.” I give him a small tug of my lips, shrugging my shoulders. 

He shakes his head, “You know so much. You do, I promise. I mean…you’re so…you. You love root beer, you love chocolate chip pancakes, hot chocolate, and the shortbread chocolate cookies–damn, you really do love chocolate.” he laughs. 

He caresses his hand on the bottom of my jaw, biting his lower lip with a smile. “You also love coloring, old disney movies, club penguin, stuffed animals, and—how could I forget, McDonalds ice cream.” he says. 

A smile pulls on my lips as I prod my tongue in the side of my mouth. Each piece of information spills into my brain as I curate the list in my imagination. He was right, but more than that—he was sweet. 

Matt had always been very sweet. Honey and sugar envied him. Not even the sweetest candy could compare to the sickening sugar that coated his lips from his words. His soul oozed an aura of comforting sap, something that should make a person sick from indulging too much, but I couldn’t get enough of it. 

To swim in his honey pool felt like a magical remedy healing every wound, even the scars so deep in my soul that I had forgotten they were there. I wasn't scared of getting hurt. The pond of his heart puddled in front my eyes, cushioning every cautious step into places my mind labeled as danger.

“I know you. I know you enough to know that you know yourself. Give yourself some credit.” he says. I soothe the fabric of the blanket under my fingers, the thin material allowing me to feel the pillowy grass beneath it. 

“You seem to know a lot. I didn’t know you paid that much attention…I really appreciate it.” I express in a soft whisper. 

“I could go on for hours.” he teases. 

I squinted my eyes at him with a cock of my eyebrow, challenging him. “Really?” I question. He gives me a curt nod. 

“Mhm. You say your favorite animal is a penguin, but it’s really a moose. You’ve always wanted a pet. Hmm…what else? Oh–you love gardening, you want your own greenhouse one day….” he trails off as I look at him with nothing but adoration. 

His parted lips fall closed as his smile beams at me. “It’s hard to think when you’re looking at me like that.” he points out. I let out a soft laugh, shoving my shoulder into his playfully. 

Balancing my weight on my palms, I lean forward, gently pressing my lips on his cheek. The skin flourishes with a red hue under the pale moon, the tint traveling up to his ears. 

“You missed one thing.” I point out. He looks over at me swiftly. I pull up my hand, shifting the messy brown locks out of his face. My hand falls to his shoulder as he looks at me curiously. 

“You are definitely on my list of favorites,” his smile grows with his teeth peeking out from his lips. 

“Really?” he says. His eyes squint at me. I nod my head affirmatively. 

“Mhm,” I lean, letting my head rest back onto his shoulder. 

As I let my body relax into his body warmth, my mind eases completely into the moment. I feel his head resting on top of mine, the grass tickling my fingers from poking through the blanket, and the night breeze blowing with a soft wind. 

“You are my favorite.” he whispers from above me. I hum, nuzzling my head further into his shoulder as the smile becomes bigger onto my face. The smile that had never even left. 

_

As the night grew colder, Matt’s worry for me getting sick did too. I hadn’t wanted the moment to end, and it still hadn’t. Our bodies laid tangled together under his pillowy comforter, our body heat radiating with a perfect warmth. 

My face presses against the bare skin of his chest, his tattooed arm thrown behind me and pulling me closer to him. He hums, hugging me tighter as I let out a soft giggle. 

“What are you doing?” I ask. His playful eyes glance down at me with a soft smile. 

“--’m just want you closer.” he mumbles. I pull myself up by placing a hand on his shoulder. I lay my head on the pillow, my face inches from his. I feel his arm underneath the pillow curl upward, his hand tangling in my hair. 

“Like this?” I ask. He hums, leaning forward and nudging his nose on mine. The sigh escapes his lips, the warm air brushing along my cheeks. My eyes wander down to his lips, his tongue darting across deliciously, the moonlight seeping in reflecting on the now wet surface. 

I feel myself leaning forward before I can stop myself. The taste of his minty lips hit mine, the cooling sensation of the leftover toothpaste being drowned out by the heat of our lips together. His tongue prods at my lower lip before slipping into my mouth. 

The added aggression of his actions makes my stomach churn with desire, his hand latching tightly into my hair mindlessly with a gentle grip. A soft moan escapes my mouth. His fingers grab securely onto my waist, kneading the flesh with greed. 

“Fuck,” he mutters against my lips. The word barely pauses his desperate movements for a second before he’s hungrily pouring his devotion, kisses being littered along my jaw and down my neck. 

The lower his lips trail, the more my front mindlessly arches further into him. The wet saliva makes my skin form goosebumps with the cool air brushing against the damp spots. 

As Matt’s lips arrive at the hem of his shirt on me, his eyes flicker up to me with a questioning look and a lust filled haze. “Can I take this off?” he asks. I nod, partially sitting up and throwing the shirt to the floor, leaving me in just my underwear.

The cold air barely touches my skin before Matt has his hands wrapped around me. He engulfs me in a hungry embrace, my skin tingling from his lips and tongue traveling on the top of my bare chest. 

A rough shriek escapes my lips as I feel his teeth clamp down lightly on the skin of my breast, a suction from his mouth and the skin making the blood rush to my cheeks as my hands dart to his hair. 

“Matt.” I whisper out breathlessly. 

The single word escaping my lips results in his lips becoming more messy on my skin. His mouth envelopes around the peak of my breast, his teeth lightly grazing the bud of sensitivity. The sensation shoots straight down to my core as my hips move against his thigh mindlessly. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” he lets out, pulling his lips away. “I don’t wanna rush things. I wanted tonight to just be sweet and—fuck, I can’t help it around you. I’m sorry, I–” 

I don’t let him finish. The pulsing between my legs clouds my mind as carnal desires guide my movements. I push him to the bed, straddling over his bare stomach. I lean down, placing my lips back onto his. His hands immediately grab onto my hips, clenching the flesh in his hands. 

Our lips part as I kiss down his neck. He swallows thickly as I kiss the flesh gently, letting my teeth graze the skin. A breathy exhale leaves his mouth as I let my hands wander down to his lower stomach as I scoot back on his lap. I let out a whimper at the bulge prodding between my legs, my hips stuttering over his dick beneath me, begging to feel more. 

I resist the urge as I bring my lips off of his skin, bringing my head upwards as my hands trace his snail trail with the tips of my fingernails. I watch as he sucks in a breath, his eyes screwed shut as his head throws back into the pillow with parted lips. 

I let my finger loop beneath his sweats teasingly. He grabs my wrist with one hand, the other cupping around the back of my neck. Our lips meet messily, his mouth parting with a breathless heaving as I let my touch teasingly linger over the waistline of his pants. 

“Can I–” “Please.” he cuts off, not letting me finish.

The desperation in his voice fills me with confidence as I smirk, pressing my lips back to his chest that rises and falls with heavy breaths. I take my time, swirling in back and forth patterns with my hand on his lower stomach as it clenches and twists beneath me. 

My movements are halted by him latching back onto my wrist. I look up, seeing his glazed eyes looking down at me. “Please, fuck–I need–yes, oh my god.” he breathes out as I cup over his bulge. 

He moves his hips up, grinding into my hand as I palm him through his sweats. I watch as his head snaps back into the pillow, a quiet, broken grunt sounding in the night air. 

I loop my hand in his sweats. His hips lift upward, allowing me to tug down the material. The sight of his imprint through the tight briefs makes my breath hitch in my throat. 

My hand reaches out, palming him once more. The thinner material allows me to feel more of him. It allows him to feel more. I see his hand gripping the sheets with white knuckles, his other hand in his mouth as a muffled moan sounds. 

I loop my hand around the waistband of the briefs, his hips lifting once more. I drag the material tantalizingly slow. I watch as he grows impatient, his hips squirming beneath me. He leans down, pulling it off completely and tossing both his articles of clothing to the side. 

I let my hand reach out to his aching member. My actions are halted by his hand clasping around my wrist. I look up at him, seeing his reddened cheeks and his concerned eyes. “Are you sure? We don’t have to do anything.” he says. 

I nod with an affirming smile. “I really want to make you feel good.” I whisper out. His eyes widen as I see him gulp. “Is that okay with you?” I ask. 

He nods quickly, his hazy eyes clouding further with lust as he wets his lips with his tongue. “--want that so bad. But–we can stop whenever, okay?” he says. 

I hum in response, letting my lips greedily wander down to his chest. I let my hand clutch more firmly around his hardened cock. A gruntled breath falls from his lips. “Fuck, so good, baby, so fucking good.” he hisses. 

My confidence grows at the praise, letting my hand slowly tease his wet tip covered in precum. His hips rut upward as his hand curls in my hair with desperation. 

Trailing my lips downward, I continue palming him. As I get eye level with his crotch, I let my eyes wander up to him. His eyes are trained on me with his bottom lip locked in the clutch of his teeth, turning white. 

I look down, gathering spit in my mouth. I let my lips part, the salvia dripping onto his tip. I hear the muffled groan from him as I let my tongue taste him. The salty taste meets my mouth as I greedily lick him up and down, wetting every inch of him. 

“Please, I need–please.” he begs. I hum, finally satisfied with the lubricant as I envelope my lips around his tip. He gathers my hair rushedly with his hands, holding it in his grip with his right hand as his left squeezes onto my shoulder. “Oh fuck.” he grunts out. 

I bob my head slowly, taking more of him in with each movement. His hand leaves my shoulder, muffling the sounds as he bites into his clenched fists as I look up at him between my lashes. His jaw quivers as I pick up the pace, his hips chasing my mouth. 

“Faster, please, please, please. I can’t—I need more—oh,” his jaw lifts as his head throws back in blissful pleasure. 

I cover my teeth as I take more and more of him at a faster pace. I keep my tongue pressed along him firmly as his hand shakes in my hair. I reach back, holding his hand in my hair. 

I pop my mouth off of him, a whine escaping his mouth. “Matt, you can hold my hair, baby.” I assure. 

He mindlessly shakes his head from side to side. “--don’t wanna hurt you.” he mumbles. I reach up, caressing his cheek as he leans into my hand. He looks at me with a blissed out expression. 

“You won’t. You never do, Matt. I’ll tap you twice if I need to, okay?” I suggest. 

He nods as I make my way back down. His fingers clasp tighter in my hair, gently pulling at my scalp as my mouth sinks down on him once more. 

I bring my head upward, bobbing his length in my mouth. His tip hits the back of my throat as I gag slightly, taking less of him and keeping the same pace. 

The whimpers and moans muffled by his fists are barely audible. The quiet noises of my lips suctioning against him and his reactions quietly echoing through the room as I keep taking his length repeatedly. 

As his grip becomes tighter, a slight burning sting in my scalp makes me whimper against him. “Fuck, sorry–so sorry, sweetheart. Doing so good, oh my god.” he mutters with a strained voice. 

His grip loosens, his fingers gently massaging the area. The soothing sensation distracts me. I take him further into my mouth, relaxing my mouth as his tip ruts against the back of my throat. His stomach clenches, his thighs raising off the bed as his mouth gapes open. 

“Oh my fucking god, oh fuck–baby, baby–so close,” he rants breathless in a small whisper. His eyes beam down at me as I look up at him. “You–fuck, you don’t have to. Fuck–if you don’t stop I’m gonna cum in your mouth, baby.” he warns. 

I hum against him, keeping my pace. His hand gasps tighter in my hair, a slight sting that I ignore as his hips stutter in an uneven pace. A warm sensation spills down my throat as he rides out his orgasm, a loud whimper muffled by his hand. 

His hips fall lifelessly onto the bed. I pull my lips off of him, coughing as I try to catch my breath. I feel Matt tapping me, looking over to see him pushing his water bottle into my hands. I take it from his hands, silencing my coughs with the cool water. 

I push the bottle back into his hands. “Thank you.” I voice. 

He nods with a soft smile tugging at his lips. He brings the water to his own lips, chugging a couple gulps before reaching over and placing it back on the nightstand. 

He leans down, pulling his briefs back on. He reaches over the bed again, lifting up his shirt that I was wearing with raised eyebrows. I nod, taking the fabric and throwing it back over my head. 

Matt lays back on his side, holding the blanket up for me as I crawl back into his arms. As I wrap my arm around his waist, I frown. “What’s wrong?” He asks. 

I look up at him, holding up my pointer finger before scooting backward. I sit up, pulling the shirt back over my head and letting it fall back onto the floor. 

Matt gives me a questioning look as I crawl back into his arms. I lay my cheek on the pillow next to him, his hand traveling and holding me by the waist.  His arm lays under the pillow beneath my head, curling upward. 

The action sends my face nuzzling into the crook beneath his chin. I sigh as I feel his bare skin on mine. “Are you okay?” I hear him ask in a hushed tone. 

I pull away, nodding and pecking him on the lips. “Mhm, just wanted to feel closer to you,” I mumble with half-closed eyes. His chest rumbles with a light laugh as he tugs me in closer. 

His fingers curl into my hair from behind. “--’m sorry if I hurt you.” he says. The slight sore sensation of my scalp is soothed by his light massaging fingers. 

I sigh at the feeling. “You’re okay, Matt…that feels so good.” I hum out. His fingers continue the motions in my hair as my body relaxes into him. 

“--’m so tired, but I really appreciated everything today.” I mumble out. His motions stutter, bringing my attention forward as I fight sleep. “--I trust you, I shouldn’t have been overthinking so much in the first place. Thank you.” I say. 

He hums against me, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “--’m course. I never wanna hurt you. You mean…you mean so much to me.” he confesses. 

My heart swells at the sweet words falling from his lips. I nuzzle further into him, his hands tightening as he lightly grazes his chin on the top of my head. “Now, go to bed, sleepy girl.” he says. 

I hum, letting my limbs fall languid. Our body heat radiating in a cocoon beneath the sheets lured my mind further from conscious thoughts as my eyes fluttered closed. The smile lingers gently, tugging on the edge of my lips. 

As sleep consumes me, the curl of my lips stays, my subconscious keeping thoughts of him rolling through my mind like movie scenes. Dreams don’t even compare to this man—my man. 

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[hyperspaceoddity]

Maul was once described as Sisyphus, forever doomed to almost reach success, only for everything to crash down again, continuing to push the bolder. Looking at Von Stuck's work, a lot of it captures the visceral nature of a Sith. This is one of two painting studies I plan to do. ref and creative process under the cut

i made slightly less distinct shading around the face because i love how his skin and tattoos stood out. i also wanted to make it look as traditional as i could. and the clone wars style did a lot of the legwork…haha…pun not intended. i've seen the Freaky Eye Thing done in pictures before, and in screenshots where he'll be mostly shaded where his eyes show. the animators are aware of this effect too. theres this whole video where they explain the freaky shadow thing they do with him. it's a fantatstic piece as long as you don't have an extensive knowlege on what his first set of legs look like. but i think if i tried to make it look more accurate i would have gone mad. and you don't want me to go mad do you? you want me to keep making art don't you?

Sorry I didn't post anything in a while, I had the Fanfic Writer Curse befall me. And i don't even write much. But I'm here to keep drawing more of the same motherfucker and maybe one other character one time that i have planned and then disappear into the void like i usually do. Hopefully hopefully a fathers day picture. peace out. no i dont' have any consistency with how i type.

[lukamodric]

i haven’t logged into this account for a while now and i haven’t posted in as long, so probably this rant will go into the void. nevertheless, i started this account to support the only player that has ever touched my heart and made me scream and cry out of shared joy, so i need to say a few words before disappearing again.

i fell in love with luka modric before i ever fell in love with real madrid and football. he was part of my childhood, my adolescence and finally, my adulthood. i witnessed what he did game in game out, the absurd magic he would pull up from the day he joined real madrid as a nobody, and i feel extremely grateful to have been there.

there will never be another luka modric, both in real madrid’s history and football. us madridistas are well aware of this, not sure the board of this club is. he deserved a very different farewell; this treatment given to so many legends is what we’re sadly used to, but for luka modric - to me - is inexcusable.

thank you for being a distraction to my everyday life struggles, lukita. forever your fan.

[nhmkhnh]

#SERIES—02 ──── CHAPTER—02

i choose you to fill the void.

pairings: dom!top!vi x sub!bot!fem!reader

author's note: GIRL IDK IF I TRADED MY SOUL TO DEMONS IN MY SLEEP?? IN A BLINK AND WITH THOSE SLOWED SONGS AND I DONE WRITING THE NEXT CHAPTER ALREADY??

rating: explicit (minors & men dni) | words: 1.3k list: post-breakup pain ;; vi is emotionally unavailable but trying ;; repeated hookups ;; soft moments between rough sex ;; vi catching feelings against her will ;; obsession blooming ;; light angst ;; praise kink ;; feelings slipping through the cracks ;; porn with feelings.

masterlist / janitor ai / c.ai / carrd

1 | 2 | 3

the second time she came over, it was late.

no text. no call. just the sound of her knocking like she had nowhere else to be.

you opened the door in a sleep shirt and nothing else, blinking blearily at her. “vi?”

she didn’t say anything. just stood there, fists in the pockets of her hoodie, eyes heavy like she hadn’t slept.

you stepped aside.

she came in.

and when the door clicked shut behind her, she kissed you like she’d missed you all week.

you fucked against the kitchen counter.

vi had your legs wrapped around her waist, your back arched, your fingers tangled in her hair as she thrust into you with slow, aching pressure. the fake granite edge dug into your spine but you didn’t care — not with her teeth at your throat and her hands gripping your thighs like she needed to own you to breathe.

she whispered things this time. things she probably didn’t mean.

“been thinking about this all week…” “missed this pussy so bad…” “god, you feel like fuckin’ heaven, baby…”

you came hard. she bit down on your neck when she followed.

when it was over, she helped you off the counter, held you against her chest like she didn’t want to leave yet.

she left anyway, just before sunrise.

the third time, it was your idea.

you texted her around midnight: you up?

the door opened twenty minutes later. vi had a cut on her cheek and blood under her nails.

you didn’t ask. you just took her to bed.

by the fifth time, she had a toothbrush in your bathroom. you didn’t know when she put it there.

you noticed it while brushing your teeth one morning, and just stared at it like it meant something. like maybe she was trying to take root.

you didn’t ask. she didn’t say anything.

but that night, when she showed up again, her knock was softer.

and she kissed you longer before pushing you into the mattress.

vi wasn’t gentle. not always.

some nights, she was like a storm breaking — all rough hands and hungry gasps, grinding against you like she was chasing a high she couldn’t reach.

you liked it. you craved it.

the way her mouth pressed against your skin, biting marks into your hips, muttering, “mine. fuckin’ mine tonight.”

the way she’d pin your wrists above your head with one hand and finger you with the other, growling, “you like bein’ used, sweetheart? yeah, you do. so fuckin’ good for me.”

but then there were the other nights.

the quiet ones.

where she held you like you might disappear. where she fucked you slowly, watching your face, eyes dark but soft. where she stayed after, buried her face in your neck, and fell asleep tangled in your sheets.

you didn’t know which version of her broke you more.

you caught her staring at you sometimes.

not like she wanted to fuck — not exactly. more like she didn’t understand why she was still here.

and you couldn’t ask. because you weren’t sure what you were either.

it started changing.

she stopped only coming at night. she’d drop by during the day. once with coffee. another time with a bag of takeout, claiming she “just had leftovers” even though you knew damn well she didn’t cook.

she texted you more.

little things. saw this song and thought of you. don’t go outside tonight, enforcers are actin weird. did you eat yet?

you told yourself not to hope. she never said the word feelings. never kissed you in daylight.

but she always showed up.

and sometimes — when she thought you weren’t looking — she’d stare at you with this haunted, starved look.

like she didn’t know how she got here, but she couldn’t leave either.

the seventh time she slept over, you woke up before her.

she was curled around you, arm tight over your waist, breathing slow.

you turned slowly, careful not to wake her.

her lashes fluttered. her lip was split again. her knuckles bruised.

you reached out and touched her cheek.

she didn’t wake up, but she leaned into it.

something clenched in your chest.

you whispered it before you could stop yourself: “i think i’m falling for you.”

her eyes stayed shut.

but later, when she woke and pulled you into her lap, kissing you breathless, she held you tighter than usual.

the sex started changing too.

more eye contact. more desperation.

she’d fuck you like she couldn’t get close enough — her hips slamming into you, voice hoarse with praise.

“that’s it, sweet girl… take it, just like that… so good for me, so fuckin’ perfect.”

you’d cry out under her, hands clutching the sheets, cunt throbbing as she pushed you to your third orgasm in a row.

she’d groan, “god, you’re addicted, huh? this pussy was made for me.”

and she’d look broken when you whispered her name like a prayer. like no one had ever said it that softly before.

one night, she showed up with a bad split in her eyebrow and blood staining her hoodie.

you froze when you saw her.

“vi—what the fuck happened?”

she shook her head. “doesn’t matter.”

“it does—”

she grabbed your face. kissed you. hard.

you let her.

she didn’t talk about it. not before. not after.

but that night, she fucked you with her forehead pressed to yours, voice cracking every time she moaned your name. and when you came, sobbing her name into the night, she almost said it back.

i love you.

but she bit it down.

buried it in your skin.

you tried to pull away once.

you told her you couldn’t do this if it didn’t mean something. that your heart wasn’t built for casual.

she didn’t answer.

she just left.

and you thought that was it.

until she showed up again — three days later. soaked from the rain, eyes red.

you didn’t say anything.

you just opened the door.

she didn’t leave after that.

one morning, she brought you coffee and a tiny plant. you blinked. “what’s this?”

she shrugged. “it reminded me of you.”

you stared at it. a little violet, half-bloomed.

you looked back at her.

and vi, for the first time, looked scared.

you reached for her hand. held it.

she let you.

you never talked about caitlyn.

but once, half-asleep, she murmured a name in the dark — soft and broken.

you kissed her shoulder. didn’t ask.

she kissed you back like an apology.

and kept whispering yours after that.

there were no labels.

no promises.

but when she wrapped your legs around her waist and fucked you slow and deep, eyes locked with yours, whispering, “mine, yeah? tell me you’re mine,” —

you whispered yes.

every time.

and in the quiet after, when she traced circles on your thigh and kissed your temple like you were made of something she didn’t deserve —

you knew.

you were hers.

even if she couldn’t say it yet.