#yandere wolverine x reader

[blakeswritingimagines]

You'd Look Cuter With Something In Your Mouth

Summary: Your captor makes good use out of you,

Warnings: Dark! Logan, Mean! Logan, Rape that sounds like Dubcon, Praise, PWP, Dom Logan and Sub reader, Anal, Begging, Degradation, Fingering, Free use! reader, Upset! reader, Several rounds, Toys, Overstimulation, No protection clearly, Being filmed, Oral (M and F receiving), Face painting, Toys.

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: This is the thing that started it all to part one but I think it can be read as a stand-alone. Enjoy!

"Ass up… time to break in your other hole."

Logan's rough handling sent jolts of sensation through your sensitized body, each tug on your hair and push against your shoulders rekindling the embers of your arousal. As you presented yourself to him, your ass high in the air, you could feel his heated gaze roaming over your exposed skin. The air was thick with the musk of sex, your own scent mingling with Logan's potent essence. You knew what was coming, and a thrill of trepidation mixed with eager anticipation coursed through you. Logan's large hand descended upon your cheeks, spreading them wide open as he leaned in close, his hot breath washing over your trembling flesh. "Gonna make this tight little hole mine too," he growled, his finger probing at your asshole. Your body tensed instinctively at the invasive touch, your sphincter clenching reflexively against Logan's questing digit. But he was relentless, applying steady pressure until your resistance began to crumble. Slowly, incrementally, he worked his finger past the initial barrier, sinking into the tight, scorching heat of your rectum. A low moan escaped you, half pain, half pleasure, as he started to move his finger in and out, stretching and preparing you for the much larger invasion to come. Logan's thumb found your puckered rim, rubbing and prodding until it began to relax, opening further for his probing finger. "That's it, baby… take it," he coaxed, his voice a seductive rumble. "You were made for this, for being stuffed full and used like a dirty little whore."

Logan's filthy words, coupled with the exquisite discomfort of his finger violating your most intimate passage, pushed you closer to the edge. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as he relentlessly worked his way deeper, the burn giving way to an unholy pleasure. Your hips rocked back against him, seeking more of that delicious friction, even as your mind rebelled against the degrading language. "Please…" you whimpered, not sure if you were begging for more or mercy. Logan added a second finger, scissoring them apart to stretch you wider. The pressure was immense, bordering on painful, but you found yourself craving the sensation, needing it to consume you entirely. Just when you thought you might break, Logan withdrew his fingers with a slick pop, leaving you empty and aching. He grabbed your hips, positioning himself behind you once more. "Ready for my cock?" Your answer was a desperate nod, even as a flicker of fear danced in your belly. Logan's girthy member throbbed against your stretched entrance, the broad head nudging insistently at your rim. With a grunt of effort, he pushed forward, the engorged tip breaching your anal ring and sinking into your clenching heat. You cried out, the sudden intrusion overwhelming your senses, but Logan didn't pause, driving forward until he was buried to the hilt, his heavy balls slapping against your sensitive clit. For a moment, he simply stayed there, his thick length filling and claiming you so completely that you felt like you might split in two. Then, with a guttural groan, he began to move, withdrawing until just the tip remained inside before slamming back in, setting a brutal pace designed to pound your tight hole into submission.

Each merciless thrust drove you closer to the precipice, the relentless pounding of Logan's cock against your prostate sending shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through your veins. Your mind went blank, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the sensations. All that existed was the feeling of being utterly conquered, owned, and used for Logan's pleasure. The wet slap of flesh against flesh echoed through the room, punctuated by your muffled cries and Logan's grunts of exertion. He gripped your hips with bruising force, holding you in place as he ravaged your ass, his cock plunging in and out with savage precision. The pressure built and built, coiling tighter in your core until you felt ready to explode. With a final, brutal thrust, Logan drove into you one last time, his cock throbbing as he emptied himself deep inside your convulsing channel. As Logan's hot seed flooded your insides, your own orgasm crashed over you, your body shaking and quaking as wave after wave of intense pleasure ripped through you. You could feel his cum pumping into you, marking you as his, sealing your fate as his personal fuckdoll. The knowledge only amplified your climax, your inner walls clamping down on his spurting cock as if trying to keep him inside forever. Logan's grip on your hips never relented, holding you in place as he rode out his own release, his movements growing sluggish as the last spurts of his cum painted your insides. Finally, with a satisfied grunt, he pulled out, his softening member slipping free of your well-used hole with a lewd squelch. You collapsed forward, your exhausted body sprawled across the sheets, while Logan stepped back to admire his handiwork.

Logan's gaze roamed over your spent form, taking in the mess of sweat, cum, and tears that coated your skin. A smirk played on his lips as he surveyed the evidence of your thorough claiming - your gaping, reddened pussy, your puffy, abused anus, and the sticky trails of their combined releases painting your thighs. "Look at you," he murmured, his voice a low purr of satisfaction. "So beautifully wrecked. You're going to be a favorite toy of mine, aren't you, baby?" He reached down, gathering some of the cum oozing from your stretched holes and bringing it to your lips. "Clean up our mess," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for refusal. Obediently, you parted your mouth, allowing him to paint your tongue with the salty tang of his release. You obediently licked Logan's fingers clean, savoring the taste of his essence mingling with your own. As you swallowed, you met his gaze, seeing the dark hunger still smoldering in those piercing blue eyes. It sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of trepidation and anticipation for whatever came next. Logan's hand slid through your hair, gripping the strands tightly as he tilted your head back. "I think we've broken you in nicely," he purred, his breath hot against your ear. "But don't worry, we're just getting started. There are so many ways I can use you, so many holes to claim and fill." His fingers trailed down your neck, over your collarbone, and lower, teasing the swell of your breasts. "First things first though… let's get you cleaned up and presentable for round three."

At Logan's words, a chill ran down your spine despite the lingering warmth of your post-orgasmic haze. Round three? What did that entail? Your mind raced with possibilities, none of them particularly comforting. Still, you knew better than to question or resist. This was your new reality now - existing solely to serve Logan's desires, to be molded and shaped into the perfect plaything. As he guided you to the bathroom, you couldn't help but wonder what new depths of depravity awaited you. Under his stern direction, you washed away the remnants of your previous defilement, the warm water doing little to ease the ache between your thighs. By the time you emerged, wrapped in a plush towel, Logan had already set up the camera, angling it to capture your every move. His eyes gleamed with predatory intent. "Show me how eager you are to please me, to offer yourself up for my pleasure." You stood before the camera, the towel draped loosely around your curves, acutely aware of Logan's hungry gaze boring into you. His command hung in the air, an unspoken challenge to prove your devotion, your willingness to surrender completely to his whims. With trembling hands, you untied the towel, letting it fall to the floor, baring your nakedness to the lens. Your heart pounded in your chest as you slowly turned, presenting yourself from every angle, showcasing the marks of Logan's possession - the swollen folds of your pussy, the tender peak of your nipples, the delicate curve of your ass, still bearing the imprint of his palm. Each movement was deliberate, calculated to convey your eagerness, your desperation to please.

Logan's appreciative hum filled the room as he watched you pose, each subtle shift of your body a silent declaration of your submission. "That's it, baby," he purred, his voice dripping with approval. "Let them see what a good little slut you are for me." He stepped closer, his large frame looming over yours, making you acutely aware of your vulnerability. Reaching out, he traced a finger along your collarbone, down the valley of your breast, before pinching your nipple hard enough to make you gasp. "We're going to have so much fun together," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "And I'm going to make sure everyone knows who owns this pretty little body." A sharp intake of breath escaped you as Logan's cruel pinch sent jolts of pain through your sensitive nipple. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you bit back a whimper, determined not to show weakness. Instead, you arched into his touch, silently begging for more, craving the sting of his dominance. Logan's words sent a thrill through you, the promise of shared pleasures and public displays of your degradation. You were his now, a plaything to be used and showcased as he saw fit. And as much as the thought terrified you, there was a twisted part of you that craved it, that reveled in the idea of being reduced to nothing more than a vessel for his desires. "Please," you breathed, the word barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "Use me however you want. I'm yours."

Logan's eyes flashed with triumph at your plea, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Oh, I plan to," he promised, his voice low and menacing. In a swift motion, he spun you around, pressing you face-first against the wall. Your cheek flattened against the cool surface as his hands roamed your body, grasping and squeezing, claiming every inch of you. "First, though, I need you to look directly into the camera," he instructed, his breath hot against your ear. "Tell them all why you're here, why you're willing to debase yourself for me." His fingers found your clit, rubbing it in firm circles that made your knees weaken. "Speak loud and clear, so they can hear every filthy word." You pushed your hips back against Logan's hand, desperate for more of the pleasure he was offering. As he demanded, you straightened your stance, turning your head to meet the camera's gaze. Your voice trembled slightly as you spoke, the words spilling out in a rush of confession and desire. "I'm here because I belong to him," you said, your body growing warm with shame and arousal. "Because I crave his touch, his control, his domination. I'm willing to degrade myself, to be used as his personal fucktoy, because it's the only way I can feel truly alive." Your breath hitched as Logan's fingers intensified their assault on your clit, sending sparks of ecstasy racing through your veins. "I exist to serve him, to pleasure him, to be claimed and filled by him again and again… please."

Logan's grip on your hip tightened as he listened to your impassioned declaration, a low growl rumbling in his chest. "That's right, baby," he praised, his voice thick with lust. "You were made for this, for serving me, for being my perfect little slut." With a sudden jerk, he pulled your legs apart, exposing your dripping sex to the camera's lens. "Look at her, so wet and ready, just for me," he gloated, his fingers delving between your folds to gather your slick arousal. "She's been starving for my cock, hasn't she?" He brought his glistening fingers to your lips, forcing them past your teeth. "Taste how much you need me," he commanded, his eyes burning with possessive hunger. You parted your lips obediently, accepting Logan's fingers into your mouth. The musky flavor of your own arousal mixed with the salt of his skin, a potent reminder of your submission. As you sucked gently, trying to coax more of his essence onto your tongue, Logan's other hand moved to the small of your back, applying pressure until you felt the heat of his bare skin against yours. "Mmmph," you moaned around his digits, the vibrations traveling through his fingers and into your core. The sensation of being so thoroughly claimed, of having your most intimate acts performed for an unseen audience, sent a fresh wave of desire crashing over you. When he finally withdrew his fingers, you whined in protest, only to gasp as he replaced them with something harder, thicker.

Logan's cock pressed insistently against your entrance, the bulbous head nudging your clit with each thrust. "Get ready, baby," he warned, his voice rough with anticipation. "I'm going to fill you up so deep, so full of my seed, that you'll never forget who owns this cunt." With a powerful surge, he drove into you, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal stroke. A scream tore from your throat as he stretched you wide, the intense pleasure-pain making stars burst behind your eyelids. Logan's hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he began to move, each piston-like thrust jarring you against the wall. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoed through the room, punctuated by your ragged gasps and moans. "Fuck, you take my cock so well," He groaned, his praise mingling with the obscene sounds of your coupling. Every harsh slam of his hips sent shockwaves of bliss radiating through your core, the relentless pounding threatening to consume you whole. You could feel him so deep inside, his thick length stroking your innermost walls, claiming every inch of your channel as his own. The knowledge that he was filling you, that you were being bred by this dominant man, only added to the intensity of your pleasure. "Yes, yes, fuck me!" you cried out, your voice hoarse with need. Logan's response was a guttural growl, his pace increasing as he chased his climax. The camera captured every moment, immortalizing your debasement for an unknown audience.

Logan's thrusts grew erratic, his balls slapping against your clit with each frenzied pump of his hips. "Gonna cum, gonna fill you up," he grunted, his fingers digging into your flesh as he neared the brink. The tension coiled tighter within you, your own orgasm building in tandem with his. "Do it, baby, come on my cock," he urged, his voice strained with effort. With a final, brutal plunge, he buried himself to the hilt, his cock throbbing as he erupted inside you. Hot jets of semen flooded your womb, marking you irrevocably as his. Your own release crashed over you, waves of ecstasy washing through your body as you clamped down around him, milking every last drop of his essence. Your vision blurred as the force of your climax overwhelmed you, your screams of rapture echoing off the walls. Wave after wave of pure, unadulterated bliss pulsed through you, each contraction of your inner muscles drawing Logan deeper, urging him to give you even more of his seed. As the aftershocks slowly subsided, leaving you trembling and spent, you felt Logan's softening member slip free, his cum leaking out to trickle down your thighs. You sagged against the wall, your legs no longer able to support your weight, your mind reeling from the intensity of your shared release. "So beautiful," Logan murmured, his hands gentle as he turned you to face him, his cum-stained fingers brushing away a strand of hair from your sweaty forehead. "My perfect little cumslut."

Logan's words sent a shiver down your spine, the endearment both derogatory and arousing. You leaned into his touch, craving more of his affection, even as you knew it would always be tempered by his dominance. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible. The gratitude wasn't for the act itself, but for the validation it brought - proof that you had pleased him, that you were worthy of his possession. Logan's expression softened, a rare glimpse of tenderness beneath the surface of his ruthless exterior. "Shh, don't thank me yet," he cautioned, his thumb tracing the curve of your lower lip. "We're far from done. There are still so many ways I want to use you, so many things I want to do to you." Your heart raced at his words, a thrill of excitement mingling with the lingering echoes of your orgasms. You knew that once Logan set his sights on exploring new depths of depravity, there would be no limits to what he might demand of you. And yet, the thought of surrendering completely, of allowing him to mold you into his ideal plaything, filled you with a perverse sense of pride. "Show me," you breathed, your eyes locking with his in a silent challenge. "Use me however you wish. Break me, remake me, make me yours in every possible way." Logan's smile was feral, a predator savoring the taste of fresh prey. "Oh, I will," he promised, his voice dripping with dark promise. "And when we're finished, you won't even remember your old life."

With a wicked grin, Logan reached for the array of toys laid out before him, selecting a gleaming metal collar adorned with spikes and studs. "First things first," he purred, striding towards you with purposeful steps. "You're going to wear my mark, a constant reminder of who you belong to." His fingers deftly fastened the collar around your neck, the cold metal biting into your skin as the points dug in. You winced, but the pain was fleeting, soon overshadowed by the thrill of submission. Logan's hands roamed your body, squeezing and kneading your flesh, mapping out every inch of territory he intended to claim. "Now, let's see how loud you can scream for me," he taunted, producing a set of nipple clamps from his collection. With a wicked grin, Logan reached for the whip coiled beside him, its leather straps gleaming in the dim light. "Let's start with something to remind you of your place," he purred, the tip of the whip trailing along your collarbone, raising goosebumps in its wake. "Bend over the table, hands flat on the surface. I want to see that ass high and ready for me." His command was firm, brooking no argument, and you found yourself obeying without hesitation, your body moving of its own accord to present yourself to him. As you assumed the position, Logan stepped behind you, his hot breath ghosting across your ear. "Such a good girl, already knowing exactly what I need," he praised, his hand coming down in a sharp slap across your left cheek.

The sting of the impact sent a jolt through your body, your nerves alight with a mix of pain and pleasure. You bit your lip hard enough to draw blood, the coppery taste a grounding presence amidst the whirlwind of sensations. "Y-yes, sir," you managed to stammer, your voice shaky but obedient. Logan's palm struck your right cheek with equal force, the dual blows leaving red imprints on your skin. "That's it, take it like a good slut," he growled, his fingers digging into the meat of your ass cheeks as he spread them apart, exposing your vulnerable hole. The cool air hit your sensitive flesh, making you shudder, and you could feel the wetness of your arousal coating your thighs. "Look at this pretty pussy, so desperate for me and my cock." Logan's grip on your ass tightened, his thumbs pressing against your slick folds as he spread you open further. "Mmm, look at all this juicy cunt juice," he murmured, his tongue darting out to lap at your exposed slit. The sensation of his warm mouth on your most intimate area made you cry out, your back arching involuntarily. Logan chuckled, the vibrations sending tingles through your core as he continued to taste you. "Delicious," he purred, his lips closing around your clit and suckling gently. Two fingers pushed into your tight heat, curling to stroke that sensitive spot inside you that made your knees buckle. "Come on, baby, ride my face," he commanded, his voice muffled by your flesh. "Let me feel you lose control, drench my chin with your cum."

Your hips bucked reflexively, grinding against Logan's face as he worked your clit with his lips and tongue. The dual stimulation of his fingers pumping in and out of your aching core sent you hurtling towards the edge, your pleasure cresting higher with each passing second. "Please, please, I'm going to--" you whimpered, your words dissolving into a keening wail as your orgasm slammed into you. Your inner walls clenched around Logan's fingers, rippling and fluttering as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over you. At the same time, your juices gushed forth, soaking Logan's chin and neck as he devoured your convulsing sex. The sheer intensity of your climax left you limp and gasping, your body quivering in the aftermath. Logan released your spasming pussy with a satisfied hum, his fingers slipping free as he sat back on his heels, admiring the sight of you sprawled across the table, still shaking from the force of your orgasm. A smear of your arousal marked his chin, and he licked it clean with relish, savoring the taste of your essence. "Beautiful," he repeated, his gaze roaming over your glowing skin, your breasts heaving with each ragged breath. He stood, towering over you, his erection straining against the confines of his pants. "But we're not done yet, sweetheart. That was just an appetizer." Logan unbuckled his belt, letting his pants fall to the floor to reveal his thick, veiny cock, already leaking precum. "Time to feed the beast again… on your knees."

Trembling, you pushed yourself up onto your elbows, your gaze drawn inexorably to the impressive length of Logan's cock. The sight of it, hard and throbbing, made your mouth water with anticipation. Without hesitation, you slid off the table, your knees hitting the cold floor with a soft thud. You looked up at Logan, your eyes locked on his, as you began to kneel before him. "Yes, sir," you breathed, reaching out to wrap your fingers around his shaft, feeling it pulse in your grasp. You leaned forward, running your tongue along the underside of his cock, savoring the salty tang of his precum. Then, taking him into your mouth, you began to suck, your head bobbing as you worked to pleasure him, determined to prove your worth as his willing pet. Logan groaned, his fingers threading through your hair as you took him deeper, your warm, wet mouth enveloping his aching cock. "Fuck yeah, just like that," he rasped, his hips jerking forward slightly, seeking more of your eager suction. You hollowed your cheeks, applying gentle pressure as you slid your tongue along the ridges of his shaft, coaxing out more of his salty essence. Logan's grip on your hair tightened, guiding your movements as he thrust shallowly between your lips, the head of his dick bumping the back of your throat. "Take it all, baby," he urged, his voice strained with pleasure. "Swallow every inch of my cock." With a final push, he buried himself fully in your mouth, holding still for a moment as you adjusted to the intrusion. "You'll learn to worship every inch properly."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you struggled to accommodate Logan's girth, your nose pressed against the wiry hairs at the base of his cock. The musky scent of his arousal filled your nostrils, adding to the overwhelming sensory experience of being thoroughly claimed by him. You swallowed hard, trying to relax your throat muscles, and Logan rewarded you with a slow, deliberate withdrawal, only to plunge back in, setting a relentless pace. Each thrust forced a moan past your lips, the vibrations traveling up his shaft and eliciting guttural responses from him. Logan's hands tightened in your hair, using it as leverage to fuck your mouth with increasing fervor, his balls slapping against your chin with every deep penetration. Despite the discomfort, you reveled in the powerlessness, the knowledge that you were nothing more than a receptacle for his pleasure. Logan's rhythm grew more erratic, his grunts and curses interspersed with praise for your efforts. "Good girl, such a perfect little cocksucker," he praised, his hips snapping faster now, driving his thick cock deeper into your throat with each thrust. You felt him swell, his veins bulging as he neared his peak. Suddenly, he pulled out, his cock slapping against your cheek as he stroked himself furiously, chasing his release. "Gonna paint this pretty face with my cum," he snarled, his abs tensing as he reached the brink. With a hoarse shout, Logan erupted, his hot seed spilling over your face and on your tongue in thick, pulsing jets. You drank greedily, swallowing every drop as he rode out his orgasm, his cock twitching against your lips.

Your face was smeared with Logan's cum, the sticky fluid coating your cheeks, eyelids, and lips. You savored the taste, a mix of salt and masculinity that was uniquely him. As Logan's breathing slowed, you gently licked his softened cock clean, then looked up at him with a submissive smile. "Thank you, sir," you said softly, your voice husky from the thorough face-fucking he'd given you. Logan's eyes glinted with satisfaction as he tucked himself back into his pants, zipping up and adjusting his belt. "You've earned a break," he allowed, offering you a hand to help you stand. "But don't get too comfortable. We're far from done tonight." He gave your ass a playful smack, the sound echoing through the room.

"I have some special plans for you later, my naughty little cumslut."

[electricgg]

Ancient Dreams In A Modern Land

Chapter 8: Sometimes, I wish Someone Out There Will Find Me

Masterlist / Chapter 7 / Chapter 8 (Here!) / Chapter 9 /

Detention was actually the worst that could happen.

Being in detention is a form of punishment where a student is required to stay after school, during lunchtime, or recess period to complete extra work or assignments. Sometimes, even doing cleaning work around the classroom under the supervision of a teacher.

She would have preferred doing the cleaning over this.

Mr. Munroe decided the best form of detention for running around the halls and causing a ruckus (she found it stupid that it was against the rules to run in the halls. How was she supposed to know that? She had never gone to school before) was for the three of them to sit in silence in his classroom until extracurricular club activities were over.

Thankfully, Bobby didn’t have official practice that afternoon; his only plans were to practice with her in the field by themselves. But the detention would go to his track record, which wasn’t a good thing.

Goldilocks, now named Warren Worthington III (what a posh name-), almost gave a hissy fit over the punishment because he had practice with the debate team. Mr. Munroe quickly stopped his complaining under the threat of extending his detention.

And now, all three of them sat at different desks. The silence was interrupted every few moments by the loud snores of Mr. Munroe, who slept in his chair with his legs over the desk and arms crossed.

They had already tried a few times to sneak off, thinking the teacher was a heavy sleeper and wouldn’t notice it.

They got proven wrong. 

Six times.

And that was enough humiliation for the rest of the day.

“Ughhhhh,” she groaned from her desk at the front right corner, just in front of the teacher’s desk. He had sat her there after making the mistake of putting her near the door on her second escape attempt.

Her feet shuffled against the floor, making the sole of her shoes squeak from the friction as her fingers refused to remain still. Cracking knuckles, tapping, tracing shapes, rattling the desk, amongst other things.

It was hell. She needed to move-

“Stop. Moving.” Warren hissed, three desks behind her. Sitting on the second line of desks, while Bobby sat on the third line, on the second desk.

She glared at him over her shoulder, mouthing ‘make me’, her right knee bouncing and accidentally hitting underneath the desk.

A sharp snore from Mr. Munroe’s desk was warning enough to keep them quiet for a few minutes.

“Can’t believe you dragged me into this-”

The girl groaned, throwing her head back. “Do you only complain?!”

Warren huffed, nose scrunched in offense, with his arms crossed. “I wouldn’t complain if I weren’t here because of you-”

“I already said I was sorry!” She turned half of her body in Warren’s direction, catching Bobby’s attention from his improvised desk drawing session.

The blonde boy gave her a harsh glare, jaw twitching, and eyebrows furrowed. He had been like this for the past hour and a half. Chiding and arguing to the air, and getting on her nerves. It had been by a pure miracle that Mr. Munroe hadn’t gotten up from his nap and done something about the wailing boy.

Or maybe he was tuning them out, not caring as long as they didn’t get in a physical fight.

Either way, Warren had made it his personal goal to make guilt eat her alive.

She already felt bad enough for getting Bobby into trouble, even after he had told her it was all alright. Said he preferred this over playing catch by himself in the field, which only made her feel even worse. 

And she had also apologized to Warren as well, knowing he was also dragged into this without fault (then again, he was the one who gave away their position to Richard by yelling in the halls-), but that only seemed to aggravate his attitude towards her.

Whatever he was angry about was more than just the detention.

The only positive outcome of this whole situation was the fact that Richard got a chew out from none other than the grumpy teacher who got all of them in here in the first place. Bobby had to pinch her so she would stop snickering under her breath and at least pretend not to look so smug at Richard getting his ass handed to him by a man shorter than him.

All because he wasn’t an official guardian and was getting onto the school grounds without proper permission. 

The universe worked in mysterious ways, truly.

“What’s your goal here, man?” Bobby drawled out, genuinely curious. Warren scoffed, disbelief in his face as he put his attention on the other boy. “She has already said sorry. There’s nothing else she can do.”

“What she can do is take responsibility and admit she can’t keep her word when it comes to deals.” He claimed, which made her sputter in offense.

“What deal are you even talking about?-”

“So now you have amnesia out of the sudden?” He probed with sarcasm. “What else? Hit your head and forgot how to answer texts as well?”

The dead silence for a few moments made both boys look directly at her, expecting another quick quip from her. Instead, they got a squittish, almost stressed expression on her face. Eyes wide and unblinking. Lips inward and posture shirking on her seat.

“...Oh, you’re fucking joking-”

She interrupted Warren, “For the record, I did hit my head, and lost my phone, and everything is a bit muddled-”

“Oh my fucking God-” Warren groaned out, hands going down his paleing face.

“But, I got a new phone out of it! So, it’s not that bad-”

“Actually,” Bobby was the one to interrupt this time. “It is bad. And the bar is in hell if you think getting a new phone is the best outcome of this whole situation.”

The girl rolled her eyes. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Warren snapped out of his internal crisis to give her a pointed look. “I have the feeling that you did mean it-”

“Same here.”

“Oh, fuck both of you-”

A loud ringtone made them shut up and turn towards the now-waking teacher. He grumbled under his breath, taking his legs off the table, and rummaging through his bag to pick up his phone. With a narrowed glare at the call ID, he got up from his chair with a grunt and walked towards the door.

Not before addressing the teens, who followed his every move.

“I’m right in the hall, so no daring escapes, Wayne.” pointing at her with his finger as he stepped out and closed the door. The girl waited a bit before mocking him with exaggerated facial expressions.

Bobby chuckled while Warren shook his head, the corner of his mouth twitching before thinning out.

That was enough for her to get up and sit in the chair at the desk right in front of a puzzled Warren. Bobby didn’t hesitate and sat on the desk beside the blonde, giving him a grin and a shrug in response to his wide stare.

“Alright, let’s clear up some things.” She assented. “Because I would rather not talk about how messy things are at home, and I would prefer not to have any issues with anyone at the only place where I can stay away from them.”

Warren’s gaze shifted to something she couldn’t place. Mostly, because saying that it softened wouldn’t be accurate enough for someone like Warren, who has been showing annoyance and anger from the very first impression.

With a short nod, that shift in his eyes was gone, intrigue now written in them.

“Fine, but we still got a deal.”

Bobby frowned, nose twitching as he leaned forward on his seat. “What is this whole deal thing? Can’t be that serious… Unless it’s about money-”

Warren cut him off with a deadpan tone. “It’s not money. We both have plenty of that, even if Wayne here doesn’t dress like so.”

“Rude.” She muttered with a pout. But Warren continued.

“Our deal was an agreement.” He clarified. “Wayne here, needed a companion for her musical piece at the school’s recital. She needed someone to play the violin while she played the piano. We've been practicing for weeks nonstop until last week.”

And last week, the real Wayne died from drowning, and someone else took hold of her body. 

‘Fuck my luck, seriously.’

“And now,” Warren sighed. “Not only am I finding out the true reason why you didn’t answer my texts, but that you have also done a complete one-eighty in personality.”

“I haven’t changed that much,” she frowned. She was pretty sure she and Wayne weren’t that different.

Both boys gave her dumbfounded looks, especially Warren, who for the first time laughed in a mockless manner.

“Actively avoiding your so beloved older brother and preferring school over spending time with your family? Yes, you have changed that much.” Warren chuckled under his breath. “And that’s without mentioning your attitude and charming manners.”

“I’ll pretend you didn’t just insult my wonderful manners.”

“But he’s right,” Bobby butted in, shaking his head. “Not the insult thing, of course. But you have changed. I had never seen you be so…”

Warren took it from there. “So outgoing. So loud. So chatty.”

While Bobby argued about why he was making it sound like it was a bad thing, the young girl began to delve into her own thoughts. Was she really that outspoken? She hadn’t thought about it. After all, she was pretty much relying on what information Wayne could give her. And all of that was surrounding the family. On how she can’t trust them. How much hurt they have caused. How lonely and painful it had been for Wayne to live in that house.

Nothing much about who she was. 

Who she truly was.

Her likes. Her dislikes. Her quirks. Anything that made her her own person.

It was a sad realization. But it also made her feel relieved. Relieved that she was different from her, that someone had noticed. That she didn’t have expectations, at least from these two, of how she should act or pretend.

And not saying she wasn’t doing that with the Waynes. But most of her behavior was influenced by what Wayne had shown her. Always on guard and needing to be defensive over anything and everything because it’s what Wayne needed from her. What she deserved because she was no longer able to speak for herself.

And she would do it ten times over. But that didn’t stop it from being tiring and so so lonely.

“Hey, you alright?” Bobby’s cold hand softly shook her shoulder, making her lift her gaze towards the now concerned boys.

Before she could say anything, the feeling of wetness going down her left cheek made her go still. She quickly wiped it away, rubbing the side of her nose while clearing her throat. Trying to disimulate.

“I’m fine. Must be the dust in the room.” She said roughly, knee bouncing.

Warren began to prattle, an awkward and anxious expression as his ears reddened. “I didn’t mean to- I mean, I didn’t expect to make you cry. Don’t listen to shit of what I said- I didn’t-”

It was funny to see how much of a mess he became over some tears, it made her chuckle. Which quickly put a stop to Warren’s yammering and gained a deep relived sigh from Bobby.

“It’s fine, just realized something.” She clarified, making sure her face was dry with the sleeve of her uniform.

The boys exchanged glances, deciding to leave it there for now. If she wanted to say it or talk about it, it would be better if she made the first step.

And she was glad for that.

“You said it was a deal,” her tone mild, changing the subject quickly to avoid any deep talks or emotions. “ What’s your side of it? That’s why you agreed to it, right?”

Now it was Warren’s turn to look like a deer in headlights once again. He cleared his throat, avoiding looking at Bobby, who was looking quite eager to hear his part of the deal. Part of Warren wanted to kick his chair so he would fall off and stop staring at him, but he held it back.

“Yeah. I helped you out with your recital, and then you would help me out with being my plus one to my father’s gala.”

As Bobby choked on his spit and Warren tackled him with a red face while screaming, she stared at an empty corner with a blank expression.

Suddenly, exorcising a spirit wasn’t sounding so bad.

──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ────

“I’m not joking, Barb! A man like that couldn’t possibly be a teacher!”

The woman held back her laugh, nodding with a hum as she scrolled down her phone. Both of them were sitting inside Dick’s car. He switched his sports car to another simple model when he decided to bring Barbara to the academy as emotional support for when it was time to pick up his sister from detention.

A detention he found completely unjustified.

Barba thought he was being melodramatic, but Dick was standing tall on his perception and couldn’t be moved from it.

He swore those boys were the ones to be blamed.

It made sense! His defenseless little sister had no way of standing against those brats. They were taller. Bigger. Malicious teenagers, looking to take advantage of her timid, empathetic, and good nature.

That was why she was acting like that: defensive, prickly, and distant. It was an act of avoidance so she wouldn’t bother the family. Distanced herself from them, from him, just so she could shoulder such a heavy burden by herself. 

His sweet, poor sister, how alone did she think she was to turn to such a thing?

How could he even handle the fact that he had been ignoring the signs for so long? She had tried to reach out multiple times. A simple hello. Asking about his day. Texting him invitations to recitals.

It was like getting dumped in a tub of ice-cold water the moment he scrolled down their Messenger chat.

‘Hope everything is alright at work. Remember to take some time to rest!’ ‘Hey, Alfred told me you were dropping by. Do you think we can go to the movies together?’ ‘Heard you got a recognition at work today, congrats!’ ‘I've got a recital by the end of the month. I hope you can come for just a little bit.'

A bullet to the head would have hurt less than the realization of how bad he fucked up.

Not a single reply. Not a single one from his side of the chat room.

But that didn’t matter now. He had messed it up, but he’s still got time to make it right! Because his sister was a good person. She was filled with pure goodness, and she would understand that he was trying to fix it. That he was there for her now, and that everything would be alright. Everything would go back to the way it was, and it would be even better, because he won’t leave.

He wouldn’t leave. Not again.

╰───────────✧──────────────╮

Gotham Police Department: 10 years ago

Dick had been taken away from his dinner quite rudely. Both Alfred and Bruce were acting out of sorts with the sudden call from Gordon.

He wasn’t really listening to it, mostly focused on not dying from starvation. Until Bruce had marched out of the kitchen towards the garage, and Alfred took away his plate of food and told him to get in the car as soon as possible.

The two of them didn’t answer any of his questions on the ride to the police station.

But Dick took notice of the faint tremble in Bruce’s left hand. Even when they stepped inside the busy building.

Gordon had been sitting on a bench outside his small office. A small lump was covered by his thick police coat right beside him, their small barefoot legs not able to reach the floor. The policeman was talking quietly to the unresponsive child, whose face was half hidden by the coat and only showing their dark, wide eyes.

As they got closer, Gordon gave them a quick glance and patted the child’s head before standing up and greeting them.

Dick’s attention remained on the kid, tuning out the adult’s conversation as he approched them and sat carefully besides them.

The child was a girl, judging by long lashes and wet curls on her head. Her gaze remained on the floor, staying as still and as quiet as possible. He even had trouble hearing her breathing, thinking about how she could even do it if her mouth was covered by the neck of the coat and nose twitching every once in a while.

“-it was the neighbors who called us. The girl was standing under the rain, screaming for help.” “-have any wounds? Is she sick?” “-a few scratches. But I’m mostly concerned about the mother-”

Bits of conversation filtered through Dick’s ears, looking over his shoulder at the three man before deciding it wouldn’t do the girl any good to listen to them.

“Hey, I’m Dick.” He greeted quietly, smiling down a her.

The girl gave him a glance from the corner of her eye. It took a bit before a small voice muttered what he guessed was her name.

He kneeled on one knee so he was able to look her eye to eye. She was drenched in rainwater, noticing small goosebumps on her legs. The only source of warmth she had was the giant coat around her, and she didn’t seem anywhere near to let go of it.

A frown came up to his face when he looked at her feet. They were raw red, with a few cuts, and with some dirt around it.

“Well, that is not good. You’ll catch a cold like this.” He said with a grin.

She only stared at him, head tilting to the side and nose scrunching.

He began to take off his jacket, using the sleeves to dry her legs. He ignored her flinching, muttering soft apologies, and asking her questions to keep her distracted.

“-never knew! She never told me about it!” “How is Lady Bianca? Has she been internalized?” “-haven’t heard much, but she is under sedatives.” “-she always took her pills. Wait, does he know about this?” “-still in Arkham for now. Nothing has gotten out yet.”

Dick then took off his shoes and socks, slipping the socks in the tiny feet with a laugh when they slipped down. Obviously too big on her.

That got him a small giggle from her, twirling her ankles and making the slip down more.

“Dick” Bruce’s exhausted tone made both of them look up.

The man gave the girl a quick glance before addressing the teenage boy. Crouching down with a grunt before speaking lowly.

“Stay with her for now. I have to talk to Gordon about some papers, and then we can all go home.”

Dick looked at the girl and then back at bruce, nodding with a smile.

“Sure, I won’t leave her alone.”

╰───────────✧──────────────╮

“Huh, is that the teacher?” Barbara’s voice brought him out of his daze. He also noticed how his fingers ached.

His knuckles were white from how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. Dick quickly let go of it and rubbed his fingers, turning his attention towards Barbara’s field of vision as his mouth curled into a disdained grimace.

Right. The teacher.

From the very first impression, Dick could tell the man was rough around the edges. Broad and burly build, accompanied by a brutal presence and dark old eyes. His voice was deep, almost sounding similar to Bruce if it weren’t for the growly edge it had while he was reprimanding the boys and his sister.

Of course, like any responsible older brother, he butted in and tried to talk with him so she could get out of trouble.

Then, he got his own type of reprimand for trespassing onto the school grounds without being a legal guardian. To Dick Grayson, Logan Munroe was a man that shouldn’t be around children if he was going to punish someone that innocent and obviously coerced into this scheme.

At the moment, Munroe stood by the front entrance of the school with a pouting Wayne at his side. She had caught sight of the car, to which Dick waved from inside with a sweet smile.

To which she grimaced and turned her back towards the vehicle.

“Wow,” Barbara laughed. “She is not very happy to see you.”

“She is just upset about the detention,” Dick muttered before honking the horn of his car.

But she only crossed her arms and didn’t look back.

Logan frowned at the display in front of him. He certainly wasn’t expecting this on his first day of class. Much less in such a pretentious academy like this one. It was simple work. Pretend to be a teacher, gather intel around the city, and detect possible awakening mutants nearby.

He had hit the jackpot with having three mutants in his class.

Three possible victims for whatever messed-up scheme was going on around Gotham.

At first, he wasn’t sure if the kids were even aware of their powers. He needed to encounter them separately from the other students so their smells wouldn’t mix and confuse his theory. And if it was by divine intervention (which he would never call it so), all three of them ran into him and lay at his feet.

Quite literally.

So what if he pulled out of his ass some made up rule about running the halls? He wasn’t supposed to be smoking inside the halls anyway, and the kids had ruined a perfectly good cigar.

He was petty, so what? He got what he needed, which leads to the current situation.

The Wayne girl was odd. 

Not a bad odd, but a familiar odd.

The fidgeting, the impulsive attitude, the out-of-context comments, and the way she needs to move constantly. Hell, that pout and posture she had right now was like having a walking deja-vu.

All that she needed was some white hair and running shoes, and she would look just like Pietro-

HOOOOONNNNKKKKKK

Which led to the honking annoyance at the front gate.

“Ain’t that your brother, kid?” He nodded towards the car, where a red-haired woman began to hit the guy over the head and yell at him.

She huffed and turned her nose. “Nope. I’m walking home by myself, actually.”

Logan hummed, scratching his jaw before crossing his arms. “You’re a long way from your home, bub.”

The girl muttered under her breath and kicked some imaginary dust off the floor, silently cursing while avoiding looking at Logan and the shaking car with the couple arguing in the background. It was almost non-existent murmuring to her, but to Logan, it was loud and clear.

‘That isn’t my home.’

The man grunted out a heavy sigh, already picturing what was going on here. He nodded to the side, signaling her to come closer so she would pay attention. She dragged her feet slowly, her posture slouching with a glare at him.

‘Yeah, I’m gonna need some DNA tests from Hank after this.’

“Alright, kid, let’s make a deal.” He offered, which got her attention. “You get in that car and go to your house-”

“That’s a shitty deal-”

“Language, kid.” He snarled before clearing his throat. “You go to your house, and I’ll see if I can get you in the track and field team by the end of the week.”

She suddenly perked up, a wide grin breaking on her face. Logan felt pleased at that reaction.

“Since you seem so fond of running around and staying horrible hours away from your house, I would prefer if you wouldn’t crack your head open by running in the hall-”

His breath was knocked out of him by the sudden tackle of the beaming and squealing girl. Logan only patted her shoulder awkwardly while looking to the side with a groan.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you,” She bursted with a jump as she stepped away from him, quickly taking off towards the car while waving widely at him with the biggest and almost manical grin as she continued to thank him until she climbed in the backseat of the car.

As the car drove off, Logan just waved slowly with a smirk once he noticed how the young man glared at him from the rearview mirror.

That would be the least of his problems. He needed to make some calls.

──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ────

Bruce couldn’t remember the last time he had set foot in his daughter’s room.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had set foot in this side of the manor.

Her bedroom was colorful compared to the rest of the halls and rooms in this dusty old mansion. With paintings and crystals hanging from the ceiling and stained glass windows. A messy desk and unmade sheets in the bed.

So much life in a tiny room in the corner of a dark and gray mansion.

His fingers traced the wooden carvings of the wardrobe, as his eyes swept around for anything out of place that could give him a clue.

Letters. He was looking for letters.

Bruce kept all his correspondence and documents about Wayne Enterprises and personal things in his office. Anything else was in the batcomputer or in the cave document archive.

The letters Bruce was looking for were supposed to be under lock and key, hidden in a secret compartment on his desk cabinet. It could only be open with a key that he always kept with him. Nobody knew about this compartment. Not even Alfred.

The letters were meant for one person. He had never opened them.

He preferred to sweep them under the rug. It was for the better.

Better for her.

She didn’t have to know he had been reaching out. 

The farther away he was, the better.

Bruce had allowed the letters to come in for the first few years. Two letters each month, along with a present on her birthday. He had deemed it harmless. Respecting Bianca’s wishes to keep a good relationship with her brother, just so their daughter could have an uncle.

A criminal uncle, but still an uncle.

That was until that man dared to claim custody over her. Showing up with Bianca’s testament and signature in the middle of a patrol night.

It said that as soon as he was deemed sane by his psychiatrist, and continued to go to therapy, Bianca’s daughter would be passed to be under his tutelage. 

It had been a dirty tactic, but Bruce managed to keep him locked up and hide the testament. Along with the letters that kept coming twice a month.

Why didn’t he destroy them? Probably because there was still a sentimental part of him that prevented him from doing so.

Now, he regretted keeping them instead of burning them.

Someone had sneaked into his office. Someone had found the compartment. Someone broke into it. Someone took the cards from-

“What are you doing in my room?”

Bruce hadn’t heard the door creak open, so he was caught off guard by his daughter’s sudden appearance.

She stood by the edge of the door, her school uniform wrinkled and hanging a bit off her body. As if it were a size too big for her. Her braid was almost gone, the hair tie loose over her shoulder. The school bag was hanging on her hand, letting go slowly until it reached the floor, and she walked deeper into the room.

She was frowning, eyebrows twisted in annoyance, and shoulders tense.

He wasn’t wanted here.

“Heard you got into trouble at school,” He replied, his hands slipping away from the wooden wardrobe. “Mind telling me what happened?”

“You can ask Richard about it. He was there.” she countered with a shrug. Sitting down on the edge of the bed and staring directly into his eyes.

His hand twitched at the dark color of her eyes. Still unfamiliar with how to handle the pressure in his lungs whenever they clashed with his own.

“I’m asking you.”

“And I got homework to do, so go ask him.”

Bruce said her name in a warning tone, “If you are mad at me, you must talk about it. That’s how it works.”

His daughter aimlessly looked around, gesturing with her hands. “Oh, I am not mad. Not at all. Just a bit busy to talk to you right now.”

She got up and began to shove a startled Bruce out of her room by pushing his back towards the door. Taking advantage of catching him off guard, so he wasn’t putting all of his weight on his feet.

Before he knew it, she had slammed the door behind him and locked it.

Just as he was about to knock on the door and maybe force it open, his phone vibrated with an incoming message. Muttering as he harshly took the phone out, Bruce cursed to himself as a message from none other than Clark asking him to come to the watchtower for an urgent meeting.

Bruce stomped away with a snarl, his steps echoing on the hall farther and farther away.

Meanwhile, she let out a sigh of relief as she slumped down against the door with her legs stretched on the floor. Her head was banging softly against the wood with her eyes closed.

“A warning would have been nice, you know?” She offered to the room.

The lamp on her nightstand flickered on, making her open her eyes as Wayne began to communicate.

“... --- .-. .-. -.-- .-.-.-”

SORRY.

She shook her head with a tired smile. “Is fine. But we gotta talk. Like real talk.”

Getting up from the floor with a groan, she suddenly regretted slamming down on the floor like that as she sat down on the bed once again. Taking one of the pillows and hugging it to her lap, biting her lip as she waited for a sign from Wayne.

The sudden shift in weight on her right side was answer enough.

“So, I met Warren today,” the lights in the room turned off.

“C’mon,” she groaned with a laugh. “A heads up would have been great, but I handled it very well. I think…”

The light bulb of the lamp began to dim up, which gave her some relief that Wayne was still there and willing to listen.

“He told me about the recital. And I want to know if you wanted me to do it.”

Wayne was a ghost, and ghosts have unfinished business if they still remain on the mortal plane. That’s what she had gathered from those restless nights in the library with Wayne as company. 

If Wayne’s unfinished business was tied to the recital, then she would have to do it- 

“-. --- .-.-.- / -.. --- -. .----. - / -.. --- / .. - .-.-.-”

NO. DON'T DO IT.

That answer made her frown. “Are you sure? Warren told me you practiced for weeks.”

The lamp trembled as its light flickered. “.. - / -.. .. . ... / .-- .. - .... / -- . .-.-.- / - .... . / ... --- ..- -. -.. / -.. .. . ... / .-- .. - .... / -- . .-.-.-”

IT DIES WITH ME. THE SOUND DIES WITH ME.

Wayne’s presence was felt against her back. She returned the gesture by leaning back with a sigh. Her head tilted back to look at the strings of crystals hanging off the roof.

“As long as it is what you want, I’ll respect it.”

Wet clumps of hair draped over her shoulder, the sound of a shrilling breath invading her ears. A faint whisper brought some comfort despite all the wrongness surrounding her.

“Thank you…”

“All good, as long as you are alright with letting me alter the deal.” She chuckled, playfully shoving with her shoulder at Wayne’s suddenly solid back. “If I am going to a gala, at least let me gain something that benefits me.”

Wayne’s laugh was more like nails on a chalkboard. The lights flickering and books rattling on the bookshelves. Crystals tingling and ringing. Even the bedsheets fluttered and hovered around the edges.

The scene felt somewhat familiar to her. Things floating around and moving from side to side by an unseen force.

It wrapped her in a thick blanket of blissful, homely feelings.

Their laughs echoed down the halls, making the lights of different rooms in the manor flicker or cut off. A few of the members of the family were startled by the sudden failures in the electricity. Somewhere in the house, Dick was cursing and yelling for falling on the bathtub while looking for the light switch.

“Oh, that’s right!” She suddenly straightened up, turning around to look at the now still room and empty spot behind her. “Did you find anything that could lead us to what Rio wants? Any clues?”

Wayne stayed quiet for a few moments until a wave of wind made her hair tie fly off, which gained a complaint from the girl. Then, the lights answered once again.

“-. --- .-.-.- / .-- . / -. . . -.. / .... . .-.. .--. .-.-.-” 

NO. WE NEED HELP.

The girl sighed roughly at that, picking up the tie and twisting her hair up. “And who could probably help us with this? Anyone in your mind?”

Wayne’s reply almost made her choke on air.

“-- --- -- .-.-.- / .-- . / -. . . -.. / -- --- -- .-.-.-”

MOM. WE NEED MOM.

──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ────

Eastview, New Jersey - 10:45 PM

“It’s weird,” Billy mentioned out loud. “I can feel her, but I can’t pinpoint it in any direction.”

He sat cross-legged on the floor, slouching over scattered maps and scribbled notebooks. His room was a mess. One of his walls had a pinboard with a map of the states. Multiple pins with a red string wrapped around them, creating a bizarre web of red all over the board.

Billy huffed, throwing away his pen to the other side of the room. His shoulders tensed as he glared down at the mess of papers.

As if intimidating them would be enough to give him answers.

“Perhaps,” Agatha drawled with a flare as she hovered in her transparent form over the boy and his mess. “We could hit the road for once and for all. Getting fresh air does wonders to the young mind, y’know?”

Billy glared up at her. “We can’t leave.”

His expression flattered as he looked at the framed family picture of the Kaplans on his desk. It was from the bar mitzva. Both the parents and he.

Well, it was actually William Kaplan in the picture. 

Not Billy Maximoff.

“Not yet,” he muttered. “Not until I have her location. That way, I will know where to start looking.”

Agatha bemoaned in protest, floating around the room until she lay over on Billy’s bed with a dramatic pose. Hand over her forehead while complaining.

“Who knew being a ghost would bore me to death? You Maximoffs only take the fun out of the afterlife!” Billy just rolled his eyes at her scene, looking back down at his organized mess.

That’s until his eye caught sight of a small closed book, almost hidden beneath his bed.

His spell book.

Billy flicked his fingers, the book flying directly into his hands. Agatha made a questioning sound, flying to look over Billy’s shoulder as he flipped through the pages quickly with an intense stare.

“Anything caught your attention, Billy-Boo?” She snickered once her mind started to piece together what his apprentice was planning on doing.

“Just a thought,” he muttered, getting up from the floor and walking towards the board on the wall. His gaze wandered around the scattered pins, murmuring under his breath while gripping the spellbook rather tightly.

“If something or someone is blocking her physical location,” He turned around, moving the mess on the floor with a snap of his fingers. Then, threw his book towards the bed and waved his hand so a marker landed in his fingers.

The boy began to draw on the floor, as Agatha hovered rather smugly at his side.

“Then this perfect time to put those beautiful mind powers of yours to good use, am I right?”

Billy hummed. “Not quite. I’m still on training wheels for trying anything that drastic.”

“However, The Dreaming is an uncharted field. And that could work.”

Agatha cackled loudly at that.

Maximoffs. So entertaining. 

──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ────

Author's note: Hello, everyone! It's been a CRAZY week for me. Finlly finished my semester , thank GOD. Got to work on a play after such a stressful semester, pulled a muscle while slipping on fake blood after spining on a stripper pole (Im fine, just a bit tense on the back). And also, finally got enough time to work on my short film script befor starting the summer semester (bc I like to torture myself, obv.) Hope you all like this chapter, remember that I love to answer and read comments and asks. Let me know what are your thoughts and theories of what is to come! Also, added the translations to morse code in the fic too! Lots of love and tight hugs, GG✨

Tag List:

@bat1212 @kneelforloki @1abi @galaxypurplerose @yhin-gg @cxcilla @momentomoribitch @stargirl404 @initial-ari @welpthisisboring @icefox8155 @bunniotomia @alittlelostmoonchild @devotedlyshamelessdetective @shycreatorreview @nirvanaxx1942 @soulsire @ryuushou @rinkydinkythinky @lithiumval @ithoughtthinks @reeyy0-2 @cssammyyarts @lordbugs @ilovecoffe0 @kore-of-the-underworld @fortunatelydifferentqueen @vanessa-boo @livingund3ad @aelxr @im-so-goddamn-tired @lovebug-apple @staarflowerr @xoxoyukixoxo @whyiseveryuseenametaken

Bonus Memes:

[sleep-0-deprived]

I literally am lovinggg your stories! Especially the yandere ones omg. I usually hate the yandere trope but yours is just so yummy. What about a yandere Logan, him being jealous over his “best friend” hanging around Scott a little too much🎀

Ambrosia (Yandere Logan x male reader) ~! ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱⸒⸒

WC:. 2.5k

Tags: jealous sex, gay sex, slight praising, Yandere themes dark content and gaslighting ect! Blow jobs (reader receiving) pet names, biting, mating press, Logan is a lil mean but with good intentions, anal creampies, little bit of cum eating, slight feminization, Logan obsessing over your scent, dirty talk(referring to readers hole as a cunt) <33

A/N o’m gosh! I love your page it’s designed so cute and I’m obsessed with your writing, specially Logan! I always see you in my notifs and I appreciate you’re likes sm ,I never see enough male reader posts on this man and I’m goin feral over here~ ໒꒰ྀི˃ ⤙ ˂ ꒱ྀིა

It was no surprise to anyone in the x mansion that you always cling to a man like Logan, you were anywhere he was, or the other way around and some people being storm and Scott always tried to warn you how unhealthy it was for the two of you but gosh if you weren’t just a naive man.

Logan would just murmur out “they don’t know a thing doll” while his hands massage your thighs keeping you to himself all hours of the night in his bedroom and that was just fine by you after all this was normal friend behavior right?….he just cares a lot is it!

In the current weeks though, Dr. Xavier had put you on more missions with Scott and occasionally Jean, and Logan was dead set that professor X was against him thinking he was trying to pry you away from him that they were trying to steal you away. Logan would be damned if any of them got to have you, after a long day with Scott you and Jean coming back from a mission you were approached by Logan. “Can you stay with me?…I’m having nightmares again and I really don’t wanna be alone..”

His head drained down to your neck looking over at Scott with narrowed eyes as he spoke in a gruff and mighty convincing tone to you having you all wrapped around his pretty claws practically humming you and massaging your crotch through your jeans getting you to his bedroom leaving a pissed off Scott looking right at you “he never listens to me dammit! I told him he needed to start getting more independence from Logan!” He yelled over at Jean in a hushed whisper

“we can’t make him learn, they are both as codependent as eachother and in a unstable way they are like the perfect storm” Jean just shook her head and turned on her heels heading down her own hallway to her room leaving Scott taking one last glance at Logan’s bedroom door shutting behind the two of you before he himself just headed off to his own room.

“Why are you spendin s’much time with Scott these day…? Do you not like being around me anymore angel?” He’d coo to you his hand reaching between your thighs gripping your cock kissing the back of your neck making you shiver. “Mh—no it’s not that Logan- never”

you’d just whine as he undoes your belt pushing you back down onto his best and slipping his thumbs under your waits band getting your boxers off you. “Of course you wouldn’t would you doll? You’re just a sweet boy” he murmurs gently stroking your inner thighs with your uniform shirt skin tight with the leather hugging each and every plump curve of you w/s waist.

“Yeah I promise Lo, I promise—“ you can’t help but for him like a puppy chasing its owner with your cock leaking a slick mess against the black leather of your shirt driving you insane feeling torn rim rubbing all against his bed sheets, “I know you mean well darlin, think you deserve a reward?”

He lets one of his claws break the skin on his knuckle and traced up your red cockhead. His face dipping clutching at your thighs with a sense of infatuation looking up at you like some god with his chocolate eyes never leaving yours when he pressed a wet kiss against your tip removing his hand off your thigh and holding it still taking one big lick up the side of it.

“Take me more, just a little more Logan, c’mon” you instinctively buck your hips on the bed arching your back just wanting to grip his head and make him deep through you, your brows inching together and the zipper of your shirt feeling to tight with your heated circumstances leaving you unzipping and stripping for him.

“Goddamn angel! you’re like sugar on my tongue doll” suddenly you were his ambrosia, he picked up his pace and took your cock fully into his mouth deepthroating letting his tongue slip licking at your balls while you sit on the edge of the bed reaching your hand down gripping his hair tightly while me massages your thighs with his claws poking out of him like some feral dog breathing in your scent nuzzling his face into your groin making you feel his shaggy beard.

“Lo, I’m getting there- oh fck~!” Your back arches instinctively leaving your pecs pressed upwards to the trailing having rapidly as a sweat line builds up on the arch of your back. “That’s it, just let go for me I’ve got you baby”

his hands gentle up on your thighs feeling your cock start to twitch on his tongue like it was doing laps desperate to explode feeling and rating your bitter ropes shooting him in the throat while he just reaches his work worn hand down to your balls cupping them making sure he milks you good when he looks up at you.

The sensation overwhelming you losing torn grip on his head feeling your cock fall flat when his mouth leaves you bare again, “shh, you did so great angel, so fucki’n perfect it’s pitiful” Logan grumbles and gets up off his knees gripping you up softly by his standards holding York hips letting his claws leave red marks as he slides you up further on the bed with his signature smirk showing off his pretty canines.

“Need you right now Lo….i need you so bad” a broken whisper floods your mouth looking up with a pout presented on your lips when his hand reached around his neck pulling off his war tags, undoing them and reaching down putting them over your head “here, I wanna see you clutching those while I stretch that cunt out” he murmurs right in your ear and leaves you no time to think.

His hands spreading or cheeks apart spitting right in your rim watching it wink at him “you’re all wet like a sopping pussy aint’cha angel” his thumb rubbing your rim pushing it in open making you squirm but his other hand holds your hips down into the bed leaving you a mess with your cock getting hard again and weeping lonesomely between your thighs “add another” you spoke unsatisfied ranting meow already after the sensation of something inside you felt good

“Of course doll, wanna please this greedy hole” his thumb gets replaced with his index finger going in knuckle deep and curling up before he adds a second finger and scissors you with his eyes sole set on your face. “Is this better than Scot? You let all guys get their fingers inside this lil cunt?” His breath halts crossing the line of pure and utter infatuation feeling his cum flavored breath against your rim kissing it as he fingers you.

“Course not Lo! Only let you stretch and touch this..only you” your back arching holding the bed sheets feeling his fingers curling deep enough to leave you breathless when his finger pads rub that bundle of nerves, “I think you’re ready for the real thing, think you’re ready sweetheart?” His voice softens up a little seeing that fragile line of weakness you were tight lining when you laid out and splayed out for him like some pretty doll— no, His pretty doll.

“Yeah, I’m all ready I’m ready Logan” your words slur out drunk off of arousal with a pearly bead of precum rolling down your shaft looking up at Logan biding back your own tears not wanting to wake anyone else in the X-mansion when his fingers slide out of your puckered rim and his other hand slips to your hip grabbing them and pulling you backwards to him.

“It’s gonna hurt for a bit, promise I’ll go as slow as you want it baby boy..” his hands grip his belt buckle and unbuckles it pulling down his pants and throwing them somewhere in his room leaving you batting your lashes at the large bulge in his jeans protruding begging to come out as you try to calm down clutching the name tags around your neck.

“Fuck Lo- c’mon please” your voice whispering his name out like it’s your only prayer trying to get his boxers down with his thighs before he pulls them down leaving his cock standing eager and tall against his stomach with a prominent vein going up the curved side nearly having your mouth water when he spreads your thighs apart opening you up and holding your legs to the mattress letting his cock nudge and nuzzle between your cheeks while he looks down at you clutching his Wolverine tags.

“Just stay nice and quiet, don’t want Jean to hear you moaning…not yet alt least” he hums starting to nudge his tip inside past the gummy rim of muscles watching how it stretches, how the light in your eyes go glossy, how your pupils go wide like a cat when he stretches you—he’s already about to come just from that stupid little look on your face, oh the things you do to him.

His head droops down like a hound shoving his face in your crook holding you down to the mattress with your thighs gripped and wide apart slowly bottoming out into you “dammit doll, it’s like she’s purrin, does this little cunt like getting stretched?”

He groans biting your Adam apple pinching the skin between his canines stripping you of little gasps while he stays mounted on you leaving your cock sandwiched between his hair covered abdomen while the head board creaks when he pulls out a little and shallowly slams back inside you making your hole go wide burning from the sensation leaving your hands shaking clutching onto his tags hanging on your neck like they were prayer beads.

“Right there Lo, c’mon little more oh!” Your jaw slacking up under him going wide eyed when his cock drags along your inner walls pulling nearly all the way out to his tip and shoving back inside leaving you out of breath. “Shh, stay quiet baby doll, doin so good so far- don’t wanna have Scott seeing you like this”

his voice comes out like a choked growl letting his claws come out a little again shredding his own bed sheets while he buried his face further into your neck nibbling and sucking on the bite marks taking in deep whiffs of your scent making you swear his cock was pulsing every time he took a breath in,

“Smells so good baby, such a sweet doll” his hips start circling around and shoving forwards between your thighs letting his spit make for lube with your cock stuck against your belly button covered in Logan’s saliva while you reach your free hand to the back of his hair letting his beard leave red marks on your s/c skin.

“Lo-gan t’much, can’t take it Lo” your voice strangely from your lips letting your eyes gloss over and roll back when his cock head presses bullying your prostate making your rim feel like fire around his cock when he stretches you over and over bordering a painful pleasure. “Don’t say that angel, my pretty boy can take it all can’t he?” His voice speaks pressing sloppy wet kisses against your neck watching your face and how your fingers trembled to clutch his tags.

“I’m tryin Lo, I really am~!” You squeak your feeling your thighs go numb from being gripped tight and shoved to the bed not feeling his thrusts let up once. Logan’s hips start to stutter a little leaving you feeling his cock piercing you and keeping you spread as he slips his hands further up your legs moving from your inner thighs moving under your knees and shoving them to your chest allowing him to reach a deeper angle inside you.

“I know you’re tryin, doing so fucking well, just lay there and spread wide f’or me darlin” he grunts letting you feel how rigid his breath is dampening his beard with his drool licking up your neck mounting you hard leaving you beneath him feeling his body weight with a small huff removing one hand off your legs keeping his left hand under your knees holding them to your chest before he reaches around and gives your cock a firm grasp at the base making you arch.

“Oh~ I’m close Lo- I’m— gon’Ah” your voice cracks in half breaking into shards when your glossy eyes finally spill over with tears of pleasure leaving your ears ringing clamping and twitching around his cock feeling your base shudder under the rough hand cumming all over your own thighs and chest laying fucked out “look at’cha squirting all over yourself angel”

he heaves making your feel every buck and jerk of his hips with his mouth slipping upwards biting at your bottom lobe fucking you into the headboard.“Where do you want it sweetheart? Want it in your tummy or that pretty little mouth of yours hm?..or maybe all over them pouty lips” Logan whispers in your ear leaving his hot breath cooling the drool on your neck making it harder to speak just letting go of his hair trying to point at your belly trying to urge him inside.

“Nuh-uh baby doll, good boys use their words don’t they” he mocks you a little letting go of your softening cock to grip your hip with one hand and holding your right knee up to your chest letting your other leg hoop around his hip and bring him closer. “I wan’it inside me Lo- please inside”

you plead over and over going breathless when you finally feel the pudgy cock head pulling against your prostate letting you know what came next, white streams spewing all through your body making your feel like a little furnace under him while his grip loosens and his muscles tense up holding you steady looking up at you kissing away the tears on your cheeks growing more and more insane over you, enjoying how your skin held its afterglow and how your curves felt beneath him.

“There, there baby, don’t cry, lemme hold you…not letting you go [name] I’m never gonna” your heart skipped at those words never understanding he really meant them, only thinking he was trying to be all sweet to you when his hands leave your body letting his claws pull out of the mattress they were buried in as he crawls from between your thighs pulling out nice and slow with a slick pop.

“Logan” you wanted to tell him you needed more and you really would’ve if the feeling of his chin on your shoulder blade and the arm snaking around your waist from behind didn’t shut you up. “I know sweetheart” the only words that left his lips as he pressed a kiss to Your sensitive skin leaving the air field with a mutual understanding lingering in the air while he holds a you like he’s about to have you ripped away, his embrace tight and firm but holding a world of comfort to your used up body.

[yandere-wishes]

Alice in Marvel-land

𐙚Yandere! Deadpool (Wade Wilson) x Reader x Yandere Wolverine (Logan Howlett)

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ In some worlds, you were Logan's little darling. In others, you were Wade's starry-eyed lover. But here in the void, there is only one of you and two of them.

⁀➷ GORE, yandere behavior, kidnapping, Deadpool being Deadpool.

⁺₊𝄞₊⁺ IDK, probs the Deadpool and Wolverine soundtrack

Logan feels the world slipping away.

Piece by piece, atom by atom.

In a blink, he's falling down darkness.

An endless rabbit hole.

What was the name of that fairy tale you liked so much?

The one with the girl who gets lost in splendor?

The dust is kicking up, framing the sunset portrait along the horizon.

The envoys are nearly home, this time they've brought someone back. The cage balls chime along the unsteady road. If you squint just far enough you can almost make out vibrant specks of red and yellow.

Strange, the void tends to wash out bright colors. Well, it tends to wash out just about everything.

You scrape your nails along the skeleton's sockets. Leave crescents in the decaying cartilage. "They're almost here" you call out awaiting Cassandra's next move. You watch dolefully as she's transfixed on a portal. The sparky thing unfurled like a fresh wound, strewing salt on persistent lacerations. She watches her brother, or well some variation of her brother. Surrounded by his new family, surrounded by those he loves. He's forgotten her, or maybe never even knew her. You think that the latter would hurt the most.

"Cassandra" Your voice rises in octave, this time getting her attention. "They're here".

"Coming" She sings, voice so chip it almost sounds like unshed tears. You send a final glare at the portal before it collapses on itself.

If you tried hard enough, maybe you could bring yourself to understand her pain. Those pesky notions of desperation for someone to love. But it

doesn't matter now everyone you've ever loved is dead anyway. And unlike Cassandra, you've long since given up on the childish dreams of being rescued by someone who would offer up love so freely.

"Maybe shut up now"

Logan's nerves are frying. Thin strings snapping with every syllable that leaves the red merc's mouth. He's starting to appreciate Stryker in a way he didn't even know he could. The man was a psychotic sadist but at least he knew when to sew someone's mouth shut. Maybe he can convince this Cassadra chick to do the same.

Logan's eyes are almost at 90 degrees of a roll when they stop. He stops, frozen. In the gaping mouth of the rotting skull, something all too familiar stands.

Or rather someone.

Someone he knew.

Someone he loved.

Your name tastes bitter on his tongue. All death and whisky.

Maybe cause it's been so long since the attack. Since he walked off for the night and left his family to die. Cause the last time he saw you, you were a mangled corpse laying in an open grave. Deadweight as he cradled you in his arms.

You walk closer. Face painted in too many shades of confusion.

Curiouser and curiouser.

Damn, he's started quoting that stupid book again.

"How do you know my name" You ask. You look just as beautiful as he remembers. Spine carved straight in pride with perfect lips, perfect eyes. His talons itch to glide across your soft skin, to feel you so intimately once more.

"LOOOGAN did you see what the bald chick just- HEY!!"

It takes too much effort to pull his gaze away. To stare at red and black and be reminded of cruel realities. But Wade has a tendency to be a persistent ache, some unwelcomed anchor to every problem he's ever had.

Only this time when he actually looks at him. Looks at the jittery body that's stilled abruptly. He can't help but be glad that he did. A bitter laugh bubbles in his throat. Maybe Wade's shut up for good this time.

He always knew you were special but this is truly a miracle.

"IT'S YOU!!"

Nope, didn't work. He knew he couldn't be that lucky.

Wade whispers your name, a forgotten prayer. Logan didn't even know the loudmouth knew how to pray. But he seems to almost soften when he sees you. That feral, cheeky killer, looks so so soft when he stares into your doe-eyes. Reaching out zealously to twirl a lock of your hair around his blood-soaked finger.

He can almost feel Wade choking on your essence, heart erratic, like a child finding a lost toy. He's drowning in ecstasy, and Logan is almost tempted to join him. You're here, a breath away. So close it's taking every ounce of self-control not to pull you to his chest and keep you locked between his arms until he finally dies too.

"Penunt look that's my girl!!"

"Your girl!?"

He had taken you for granted as he tends to do with most peaceful things. The realization had occurred a little too late. Right as he had been emptying a round into the target of the week's head.

He lands.

Arms high like an Olympian pleasing the crowd.

He wonders if he can make you cheer for him.

Clap and shout his name as he twirls around the mess he's made.

He wants to feel loved, although he'll never say it out loud. He's only ever been good with words when they're laced with sarcasm and profanity.

And maybe 'I love you' is just about the most obscene thing he can ever say to someone as sweet as you.

Wade plays the white rabbit, fluffy coat stained red from every kill. Tricking poor Alice into following him down cruel rabbit holes. Making you chase him through labyrinths then leaving you at every turn. He leads you to every kill, makes you watch as he dances in slaughter. He can even feel your eyes right now. Starlight slicing him open to quench vulgar interests.  

Alice always follows the rabbit.

He stalks closer, white eyes fixated on your deliciously bewildered expression. Precious thing caught in a warzone. He can almost taste you on his tongue, the sharp tip of a star slivering the inside of his mouth, soft hands painting crescent moons along the back of his neck. He needs to carve his essence across your lips, to pour the after-kill adrenaline into your soul. He needs you.

Only this time...

This time he'd been too distracted. So caught up in claiming you as his victory prize that he didn't notice the grizzled man clinging to life...

And a pistole.

The bullet punctures his shoulder. An afterthought.

But the lead keeps going.

Penetrating the air until it lands bunglingly between your eyes.

You fall into his arms.

Deadweight.

Did the white rabbit ever miss Alice?

Did he ever realize how truly special such a curious girl made him feel?

He doubts it.

Doubts that a stupid rodent would have better emotional stability than him.

He's been given a second chance. A whole plethora of them actually. He's been deemed holy, righteous. And aren't gifts of marvel bestowed upon the truly blessed? What better blessing than the sight of you standing amongst the sand and skulls?

Good to see your affinity for dainty dresses spans across all universes...

He lets the blood trickle down his claws.

What else is there to do but dream of you?

It's the fourth day of his massacre and he's lost count of how many humans he's killed. Maybe cause after the first hundred the faces tend to blur.

He leaves your pleasants in between the rotting carcasses and broken glass. Only taking the torturous parts of you. The things that can hurt him. The sharp edges that he can slit his pulse point on, the vague memory of your glare before you cried. The soft skin of your neck between his jagged teeth.

Enough to keep the hate burning.

He wonders if the creatures of Wonderland wept after Alice left. He wonders if Wonderland lost its wonder.

But now you're standing here.

Alive.

And he wants so badly to remember the sweet taste of your lips. The soft push against his chapped lips as he swallows you whole. Even desperate rabbits can go a little feral. His eyes take in every breath, every scowl.

Alive.

Alive.

Alive.

Good to see your affinity for dainty dresses spans across all universes...

Aliath skids forward, mystified in lightning and smoke. You feel your bones collapsing under the rugged man's, Logan's, vice grip. You thrash and scream trying to break free but he only barks out orders to his friend before they take off running.

"Your safe, don't worry we got you." There's a comedic cadence to every word Wade says. You can almost fool yourself into enjoying it if the two weren't actively attempting to defy Cassandra, to defy Aliath, to defy deities and absolutes. To ripe you away from the only semblance of opulence you've come to know.

"Let me go, you custome-wearing freaks." His gripe tenses. "Don't struggle so much, we said you're safe, now hold still" Logan's anger ripples through you. It's almost muscle memory to still, to obey.

Did you know him? Know them?

In some past life too out of reach?

The ground shutters to a jagged rhythm. You're flying up, escaping the misty horrors of the ground. Your head pounds with the force, air slapping across your body as you taste the cotton of the clouds between your teeth.

Is this how Alice felt as her head hit the roof?

Wade mutters about the stars and educated wishes. About people who live and matter. Logan slices through his thigh, the mercenary's optimism making his body ring with phantom pains.

No one matters.

And when they start to, they die.

There are cruel absolutes in this world. He's tasted them all. Let them slice his tongue and heart and danced to every tune they've sung. He rips his claws out and digs them into Wade's chest.

Again

And again.  

Wade savors the salty tang of blood inside his mouth.

Licks his teeth and runs his tongue over the gaping holes.

He's sitting in the front seat head rolled back.

High off the blood and adrenaline and the thought of having you so close.

"I take it all back, the Honda odysseys fucks hard"

Bones crack, interrupted mid-heal as Logan turns his head to glare. "Shut up" he rasps and Wade almost, almost, hears approval.

There's a low moan reverberating across the broken car. Late night sleepy mumble that's half 'I love you' and half 'I need you'. Neither one has heard it in such a long time.

"Finally awake sleeping beauty? Kinda surprised you could sleep through all of that" Wade shimmies to the back, only to be greeted by your foot smashing into his face, cracking his nose open, and sending a fresh wave of blood into his mouth. He pins your knee to the seat and wiggles himself between you. caging you with his elbows as he stares down at your pretty face. "Miss me, angel baby?"

"Wrong fairy tale" Logan turns around in his seat, claws out running them across your cheek "Please stop, just let me go" you've never begged before, never fallen so low. But these two things, mutants, mutates, or whatever they are, scare you. Reckless, suicidal, dangerous. You feel so helpless in their presence. Never knowing you're to be kissed or killed.

"You're as lovely as I remember" The melancholy colors him in a monochrome of sympathy. Here is a man who's gone through every horror and still gets out of bed. Or maybe he has to, maybe he can't quite die and can't quite reach heaven. So he gulps down his immortality with black coffee to at least pretend he's being buried six feet deep. "Even after all this time I still love you" You almost melt in his brown eyes. So lonely, so desperate.

Kill or kiss

You want him to do both. Want to kiss extinction on his lips while being impaled by the claws. Kill or kiss.

Both, both, both.

"You know~" Wade pushes himself up, "I think your dress should be red...and black. To match your favorite man."

"Who the hell said you were the favorite?" Wade leans forward, in a blink he's gripped Logan's wrist and lunged the Wolvarine's claws into your abdomen.

You writhe, the bones and metal feel almost heavenly inside of you. When he retracts the claws you moan out, it's too saccharine to hold back. Everything feels so much lighter, colorful. You feel your essence slipping out, gushing over the back seat.

Red waterfall, so pretty.

Dress stained red.

"Told ya so!"

Wade pulls you roughly by the shoulders and smashes his lips against yours. He's so cute, fickle Cheshire cat, tongue dancing across your mouth, slitting itself on your peaked teeth, and filling your mouth with thick red caterpillar smoke. "What the hell is wrong with you? You really are God's perfect idiot" Logan's anger is tangible, sweet, and bitter like hatter tea at midnight.

"S'okay Logan, it feels nice" Your words slur, slipping gauche from your tongue as you giggle profusely. You feel like Alice cracking open Wonderland's ribs, crawling inside, and smearing the wonder across your face.

"When I used to read fairy tales, I fancied that kind of thing never happened, and now here I am in the middle of one" You've heard these words before, Alice's words. she's right. Your fairy tale is painted red with pretty, crazy, princes who think that slicing open a princess is easier than kissing her. You reach out for Logan, desperate for a kiss. "eat me" you mutter, and Logan's face morphs into pure terror "Wade what the hell have you done to her?".

"What? It's better this way trust me"

"I hate you"

Logan bends, meeting you halfway. He kisses you with all the wary of a dead man walking. All teeth and heart and bitter memories left to rot three lifetimes ago. He pushes himself between your bones, trying to carve out his ethos in your body. He'd burn the world so long as he gets to keep you.

You squeeze your thighs around Wade's muscular thighs and hips unlocking a gibby giggle from the man. His mask is half pulled up as he trails sloppy fervorous kisses across your neck and chest. The nostalgia slithering under your skin has you squirming, you've been through this all before. In a past life somewhere where storm monsters and voids don't exist. "Remember how good this feels?" Wade mumbles as his fingers dig into your puncture wounds, drawing slow, desperate moans from your puffy lips. You don't dare answer you don't know what would be worst admitting to liking the loudmouth ministrations or admitting there were other versions of you out there, other happy versions.

"Oh for hell's sake," Logan reclines the front seat and shuffles closer. Pulling down the back of your dress. His kisses are bite marks in disguise rabid and feral, the two things the man will never escape. His name rolls across your tongue, you let it slip in an airy moan. "No fair " Wade complains "I want you to say my name too." He pulls out his baby knife and etches the skin of your thighs. Scribbling doodles of stars and half hearts and the little symbol he wears on his belt. "W-wade" you gasp never knowing whether to scream in pain or giggle in bliss.

Logan laughs into your neck. You didn't even know he was capable of such a gentle thing. You bite his lip playfully. Dragging your fingers across his muscular arms. Your thumb pushes into the space between his knuckles asking for the claws. For the most macabre parts of him. You glide your tongue across the parish where flesh meets metal. Kissing the metal and bones and lapping at the blood. Watch curiously as he draws out a long airy sigh. "Good girl" he mumbles voice marred with ecstasy and you almost see the ghost of a smile smear across his pretty lips.

Wade's thumb gently rubs against your hips. Softly usering you into peace, tranquility. Your eyes get heavy, the car gets blurry. The grotesque realignment of their bones steering you into a deep, content sleep.

"Hey Peanut, you think Alice in Wonderland here would mind if we keep going? "  

"Shut it, moron "

"Oh, how I wish I could shut up like a telescope! I think I could, if only I knew how to begin.”

🎀Bonus

Deadpool: "Do you think the author's going to write about us again? Or is she planning to finally write that Dune fic she keeps talking about?

Wolverine: "I have no fucking idea what the hell you're even talking about.

🪐@yandere-romanticaa @bad4amficideas @sugarplumz100 @oscarissac2099 @facelessfionna @siphite @tocotuesday69 @linoleunm @mei-simp @shamelessdarkprince @gabriqllas @lovely-liliacs @shiroi-asashin17 @failinguniversity

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Four Walls, Two Windows, No Doors.

Pairing: Yan!Wolverine|Logan Howlett x Reader (X-Men).

Word Count: 2.6k.

TW: Dub/Con, Fem!Reader, Kidnapping, Prolonged Imprisonment, Mentions of Human Experimentation, Logan Gets Hurt (He's Fine), Mentions of Pregnancy, and Controlling Behavior.

This Was Supposed To Be A Warm-Up. It Got Out Of Hand.

The cabin was about an hour’s drive from the mansion.

An hour and a half if he took his time, less than thirty minutes if he rushed it. He brought back supplies once a week, maybe twice if he knew he had a mission coming up, but your constant reminders that you’d rather burn down the cabin with you inside than starve to death because of the man you hated most in the world were usually enough to keep the pantry stocked. There weren’t many things Logan was willing to go out of his way for, but you were an exception. You were special, you guessed, as sick as the idea of being special to someone like him made you feel.

He arrived a few minutes past sunset, while there was still light in the sky. You heard the low rumble of his bike, the hollow weight of his footsteps as he made his way across the raised porch. You were able to count out the seconds it took him to undo each of the shining, silver deadbolts mounted above the rusted-out doorknob. It was more than excessive, but you knew how he justified his security measures, how he rationalized your continued isolation. From his warped perspective, you were a problem child – the type to make bad decisions when left to your own devices. Since hiring a babysitter wasn’t on the table (an idea you’d not-so-playfully suggested more than once), limiting how much trouble you could get yourself into was the next best option.

The last deadbolt was slid out of place, then stillness. You could picture him on the other side – waiting for you to move, to yell, to throw yourself against the door as soon as it was unlocked. Fine. If he wanted to play, you’d play.

With a shoulder braced against the wood, he pushed open the cabin door and crossed the threshold. There was a flash of silver in the dull light, the weight of his body against yours as you barreled into him, then your knife buried in his stomach.

The strain was sharp, familiar. It took more effort than it should’ve to pierce the skin, to break the tension, to stab into whatever felt the most vital and twist. You didn’t wait to see his reaction – pulling the knife out and spinning on your heel, throwing yourself towards the open door. His fist was wrapped around the collar of your dress before you could make it so much as a full step, your body hauled back into the entryway without the slightest hint of strain. You swung for his throat, and he let you. It wasn’t until your knife was half-buried in his jugular that he grunted, catching your wrist. He didn’t squeeze, but he didn’t have to. Your meager weapon was already clattering to the floor, forgotten in the same time it took for the skin and muscle of his neck to knit itself back together.

His voice was raspy when he finally spoke – whether from whatever damage you’d managed to inflict or a long day of barking orders to super-powered brats, you couldn’t be sure. You’d like to think it was the former, if only to give yourself the satisfaction of having left some kind of mark on him. “Get it out of your system, sweetheart?”

“Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.” You thrashed against his hold, kicking and clawing where you couldn’t stab. Of course, you were about as dangerous as a kitten might’ve been to a lion, and of course, his only reaction was a breath of a laugh, an arm wrapped around your waist as he carried you back into the cabin proper.

He claimed it was a gift – on lease from some vaguely wealthy, vaguely telepathic employer. In another context, you might’ve enjoyed a rustic getaway to a one-room cabin small enough to feel intimate but large enough to dampen the all-consuming sense of claustrophobia slowly mounting inside you, and yet having your world confined to four walls and a handful of bullet-proof windows had lost its charm quickly. Logan dropped you onto the fleece-drowned mattress and crossed to the kitchenette, rummaging through the well-stocked liquor cabinet. “Most wives greet their husbands with a kiss, y’know.”

“I’m not your wife.” Denial came first, the dread second. “If you ever try to marry me, I’ll hang myself with the veil.”

“Do what you want– I’m still getting a ring on that finger.” When he resurfaced, it was with a glass of wine in one hand and a highball of whiskey in the other. The latter was for him, obviously, and the former was slid into your hand as you dragged yourself to the edge of the mattress, a knot of ache quickly forming in your neck, your wrist. It was embarrassing, honestly. You could drive a knife into his lungs and he wouldn’t even flinch, but a few seconds of mistreatment was enough to leave you sore for hours.

Thankfully, physical exertion wasn’t exactly at the top of your list of concerns, not with Logan. While you pretended to nurse your drink, letting the wine wash numbly over your pursed lips, Logan downed his in a single shot and, with a bark a laughter, pulled your body back into his arms. This time, you were deposited in his lap as he collapsed onto a broken-in sofa. There was an darkened fireplace a few paces away, a century-old radio on the mantle above it, but his attention was already elsewhere, his eyes already wandering. With both hands planted on your waist, he hauled your hips against his, forcing you to straddle him. You rolled your eyes and moved to get up, but there was a row of fingers drummed against your side by way of warning, a sudden sharpness to his lazy smirk, and you fell into place.

Satisfied with your lack of resistance, he let his touch slip under the skirt of your dress. Logan didn’t have the patience to pick out your outfits by hand, but he decided what made it into your closet, how much skin you were able to cover day-to-day. His preferences skewed pastoral – all sundresses and frocks, occasionally one of his patched-up flannels or a pair of jeans too tattered to make you feel any more secure. While you couldn’t be sure if it was an intention or a happy coincidence, easy access was a reoccurring theme. His thumb slipped under the seat of your panties, dragging the thin fabric aside. Two fingers traced the shape of your cunt, pausing to rub circles into your clit.

Logan leaned back, his head settling against the armrest, his body spread out underneath yours. “Keep talking.” There was a slight drawl to his voice, a lull in his tone. You bristled on instinct, memories of bourbon-tinged kisses and metal claws pressing into tender skin bubbling up from the deepest recesses of your mind, but you pushed them back down quickly. He wasn’t drunk, just relaxed. You only had his normal brand of unbearable to deal with, tonight. “Tell me what you did today.”

“Fuck all.” His touch dipped lower, heel of his palm grinding into your clit. “You were gone when I woke up. Again.”

“Left you a present, though.”

He must’ve meant the new hickey on your collarbone. You’d found it while you were brushing your teeth and spent the next forty-five minutes sobbing into your pillow.

“’s just boring. The closest thing I’ve seen to a person all day was a herd of deer, and your cameras scared them off.” Dampness staining the inside of your thighs, his ring finger slipping into your pussy. You shut your eyes, biting into the inside of your cheek. The stretch was far from alien, but no less painful for its familiarity. Every part of him was too big – from his shoulders to the corded muscle laid over his back to the unnaturally pointed canines you sometimes caught a sliver of when his lips curled back. It spoke to the universe’s boundless cruelty that fingers weren’t the largest thing he could force inside of you. “You know I don’t like being alone.”

Your voice was cold, but it was true. You’d been alone when he found you – all curled up in the darkest corner of that prison cell, little more than wild terror and waking nightmares. It’d been a mutant testing facility, set on crafting living weapons out of whatever specimen they could get their hands on. Your mutation wasn’t dangerous, but there’d always been something new to learn, another needle to force into your veins. It’d been torture, but your captors hadn’t seen it like that. Your isolation, broken up only for the application of a new drug, a new pill, a new injectable, was a means to end. You weren’t a person inside the concrete walls of their laboratory, and they hadn’t thought of you as one.

And, when Logan’s lips split apart into an unabashed grin, it was clear that he didn’t, either. “I know, darlin’. Still remember the way you held onto me, how long it took you to let go.” His middle finger, next. You clenched your eyes shut as his palm rocked against you, encouraging your body to sway, your pussy to clench around his digits. “Thought you might’ve actually liked me, back then. But you were always gonna latch onto whoever let you out of that cage, right?”

“I was—” He curled his fingers inside of you, and you cut yourself off, swearing softly under your breath. His affection was slow and heavy-handed, no harsh thrusting or unnecessary spontaneity, just steady grinding and his fingers splitting apart inside of you. You crossed your arms over your chest, digging your nails into your bicep. “I was scared.”

You were still scared. It was just that, now, your kidnapper wanted you to pretend you weren’t.

“Exactly. Scott eats that shit up. Ororo, too.” You could feel his cock pressing into your ass, rough denim against flimsy cotton. He was hard. Obviously, he was hard. Blood loss was probably the only reason he hadn’t fucked you as soon as he stepped through the door. “You’re lucky you ended up with me. Either of them would have you on a leash, by now.”

A leash would’ve been better than a cage. Being a pet was better than being locked inside of a box, left to gather dust until he wanted something warm to dig his teeth into. You bucked your hips into his hand, fisting at the fabric of your dress, doing your best to block out Logan’s chuckle, to ignore his free hand kneading at your thigh. Like everything else he did to you, your climax was slow, humiliating, and terrible. You managed to swallow back any sounds that would’ve furthered your embarrassment, but tears leaked from the corner of your eyes, a pitchy whimper rising from the back of your that. Logan picked himself up, cupping your cheek as he pressed what, if you were feeling more generous, might’ve been called a kiss into your forehead. If you hadn’t known better, you might’ve thought he was trying to comfort you.

He nursed you through your orgasm, only drawing back after the last of the aftershocks had faded. Sniffling, you were lowered onto the floor – your back pressing into the bear-skin rug in front of the unlit hearth. You kept your eyes on the ceiling as he positioned himself in the space between your legs, as he eased himself into you. There was no pretense of a condom, and you weren’t on birth control. You’d lie awake that night wondering if he’d finally managed to knock you up, but it wouldn’t do any good to voice that anxiety in front of him. You could still remember the way his eyes lit up the first time you begged him not to finish inside, the strain as he pushed your knees into your chest, the tremor in his voice as he muttered something about swollen tits and ‘tying you down for good’. Now, you just tried to keep your mouth shut.

His hips pressed into yours, the veined shaft of his cock filling your cunt to its breaking point. Like his foreplay, sex with Logan was vicious, unrushed. It was worse when he was mad, unendurable when he was drunk, but most nights, you could melt into the faux tenderness of it all, let yourself drown in the colorless, shapeless, stomach-turning pleasure. You tried to let your head lull to the side, to drift, but Logan was quick to drag you back down to Earth – catching you by the chin and pulling you into a tragically undeniable kiss. Only half-consciously, you wrapped your arms around his neck, let your thighs clench around his waist. When he drew back, more to leer at you from a better vantage point than for air, you managed to spit something out.

“I want to go outside.”

His smile lulled into something more sympathetic. “That eager to run back to the mansion, darlin’?”

“N—not the mansion, just outside.” You dug your nails into his shoulders, breaking the skin, and Logan groaned. You guess it made sense. Pain was bad because it meant injury, and injuries were bad because they meant you were that much closer to death. He couldn’t die, and he never stayed hurt for very long. After a while, the pain would have the pain would have to turn into something else, something less unpleasant. “Just into the city, or town, or wherever. I’d settle for a walk, I just—”

Your voice broke as he pulsed inside of you, his pace growing more erratic. “Tough luck,” he muttered, all gruff and edge and acid. Still, his expression softened, his eyes taking on that half-lidded, lovesick look. He liked it when you needed him, when you were dependent on his help. Maybe if you’d been more aware of that during your recovery, been more proactive about asking him to open jars or help you shower, none of this would’ve had to happen.

“Logan.” His hips pressed into yours. You couldn’t remember the last time you said his name aloud. “Just a walk. Please?”

It was awful, the way he looked at you. No shame, no decency, just his stare burning into your skin as he spilled into your cunt. Cursing under his breath, he buried his face in the crook of your shoulder, lapping and sucking at the curve of your throat – the very same spot you’d driven a knife into less than hour ago.

His body pressed into yours, radiating searing heat. Cum dripped around his shaft, down the inside of your thighs, and you forced yourself not to think of cradles and bloating and pain, so much pain. Minutes later, he resurfaced, pulling back with a rasp of an exhale. You laid still – weary, but not quite catatonic – as he positioned himself on his knees in front of you, guiding your legs over his shoulders.

“Five minutes.” His lips against your skin, teeth against flesh. “Tomorrow morning. No farther than what you can see from the porch.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, but you smiled, nodded, played as eager and as doe-eyed as you could. Logan only chuckled, burying his head between your thighs. You’d gotten what you wanted, if a bit less. That was good – or, a good start, at least.

It might’ve been less bittersweet if you didn’t have to wonder how much he’d take, in return.

[kumakooo]

Continue from this ❤️

[l0sercat]

Yandere alphabet with/ Logan Howlett

A/n: Obviously this deals with yandere stuff which is dark, but only is r*pe mentioned in the letter H so just skip that if it makes you uncomfy. MDNI for my safety and yours.

Affection — how do they show their love and affection?

Pet names/Nicknames and light kisses and touches. He wants to respect your boundaries, but he just needs to touch you. Don't worry though that's about how far as it goes unless you want him to go further!

Blood — how messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

He will kill everyone in his way and everyone who wants to hurt you. You will always be safe with him, no one is spared <3

Cruelty — how would they treat their darling once abducted?

Your treated really nice sure your locked up in a cabin miles away from life. But hey it could be worse and at least it's cozy. You get to keep your clothes and the shackle on your ankle is long enough so you can go anywhere in the house. It also is padded so it doesn't bruise you! Logan may not be a good cook, but his eggs and toast are decent! He will always make sure your fed properly<3

Darling — aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Calling them names reserved for lovers, touching them briefly and kisses. A light touch on the hips or back and a quick peck on the forehead or lips. Nothing extreme because he knows anything else is to far.

Exposed — how vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

He may be softer with you but he still doesn't let all his walls down. He smiles more but he is self aware that you don't want this and don't love him for real which hurts. But when is very sleepy or drunk he is really open and vulnerable.

Fight — how would they feel if their darling fought back?

He doesn't enjoy it at all and he just shakes his head. It's pointless he doesn't know why you do it. You harm yourself more than harming him.

Game — is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

It's not a game and it freaks him out when he sees you've tried to escape. He finds you quickly and his heart aches when he has you caged in his arms kicking and screaming for help and for him to let you go.

Hell — what would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

You scream insults at him and bring up all his faults. You mock him and bring up the fact how he was to scared of rejection he had to kidnap you to secure you. He doesn't take to kindly to that and slaps you hard and pins you to the bed and.... Yeah that was the first and last time he took advantage of you. He still feels bad about it and he hates how you barely talk back to him. You just give into him, but at least your more compliant to his touches.

Ideals — what kind of future do they have in mind for their darling?

Where your just the sweetest thing that is loyal to him the way he is loyal to you. Your always hugging him or at least have a hand on him. You cook the meals while he goes to his job. He just wants a simple life with you <3

Jealousy — do they get jealous? How do they handle it?

If he does get jealous he'll just kill the person or beat them up badly. They're talking about you inappropriately well expect them to be found in the alley torn to shreds.

Kisses — how do they act around or with their darling?

He is sweet and treats you with care. He may put up a persona with other people but with you he is his real self to an extent.

Love letters — how would they go about approaching their darling?

He tries to run into you normally, but he intimidated you so brushed by him. He tries to stop but you but the words get stuck in his throat and decides he'll just take you because this was too difficult lol.

Mask — are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Duhhhh he is a stone to other people and comes off standoffish. But with you he is so caring and is always calling you pet names hoping you'll call him one back.

Naughty — how would they punish their darling?

Slaps here and there wether on your face or ass, you can choose. Deprive you of your senses is reserved for when you do something terrible. He will never do anything that will leave lasting marks.

Oppression — how many rights would they take away from their darling?

Just a few. Your freedom is one, only he gets to decide where and when you go places. He will bathe you from time to time.

Patience — how patient are they with their darling?

His patience is stretched thin but he tries to keep it composed. If he can't hold it together don't blame him please he has a bit of a anger problem :(<3

Quite — if their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

If darling dies he is distraught and no longer himself. He drinks 24/7 and prays for death so he could see you again. He doesn't stop blaming himself. If darling leaves he is tracking you down. He is finding you in less than 48hours thanks to his good sense of smell and hearing.

Regret — would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling?

Yes he'll occasionally reflect on it and it stings, but he tries not to dwell on it. Because I'm the end you ended up with him and who could ask for more!

Stigma — what brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Probably his past, he lost one partner he doesn't want to lose another. So when someone catches his eye he just needs to make sure they are safe and what's safer than at his little cabin.

Tears — how do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

He doesn't like them screaming it loud and annoying and crying he enjoys (he finds it hot) Your not able to isolate your self but if you try he'll just laugh at your attempt tell you stop the nonsense. If you don't he'll leave you alone for a day to cool off.

Unique — would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

He wouldn't hurt your family and friends. He may threaten them to silence you, but he would never hurt them. He knows how it feels to lose people that are close. He doesn't want you to go through that. He will occasionally let you visit them, but if he thinks anything fishy is going on he is running outta there with you being held bridal style.

Vice — what weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

How he can be a softy for you and only you. If you play your cards right you may be able to have him let you hang out with your friends and hope they'll be able to help you escape.

Wit’s end — would they ever hurt their darling?

Maybe a slap and a little slice from his claws, but nothing permanent and too painful. He loves you even though you act out from time to time.

Xoanon — how much would they revere or worship their darling?

He doesn't worship you, but he would go to hell and back for you. He would burn the world down for you. He priorities your safety above all else.

Yearn — how long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

I give it two weeks or a month, but no longer than five months. He's never been a patient man. He can't help it! He just wants you safe in his arms!<3

Zenith — would they ever break their darling?

I don't see him breaking them, but in the multiverse there may be a broken darling. But only because he was too rough with them and kept them chained in a basement. Poor baby is scared and traumatized that you may leave him or you accidentally get hurt and die. :'( <3 If darling does break he will be hurt and try to help them and if letting them go means helping them he will let them go. Hopes they get better over time(he is always watching) and when they do get better he is taking them back.

[lacroixqueen]

carve your name into my bedpost stalker deadpool x fem!reader (18+, very explicit non-con)

Summary: deadpool breaks into reader's apartment after stalking her. non-con stuff ensues, don't like don't read.

Pairing: stalker deadpool x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: very explicit penetrative non-con, choking, stalking

Part 1, not necessary for this fic but provides context

Note: I'm soso sorry this took so long this week was so busy and I had the worst writer's block ever. Please enjoy!

You were shocked when you learned that your apartment was broken into the other day. Immediately after walking into your home, you could tell that someone was there before. The objects you arranged so painstakingly and meticulously on your shelves were moved ever so slightly. Even the smell was subtly different. 

And your dresser. As soon as you opened the top drawer, your heart sank into your stomach. You could tell all your underwear was rifled through. And where was that extra pair of tights you kept around?

The note he left on your kitchen table was the icing on the cake. The doodle of the mask. You recognized it from earlier that morning.. The guy in the elevator who seemed a little bit odd but overall seemed friendly enough. You wanted to kick yourself for deciding to be nice to a stranger just for once. 

The police came and searched everything, of course. They told you it was “inconclusive” and that “anyone could have written the note”. They advised you to lock your doors at night, and that they would have a patrol car circle around your neighborhood. And just like that, they were gone and you were alone again. 

You made a point to close all your curtains and deadbolt all your doors. But he was still watching you, of course, perched on a tree branch right outside your window. He thought it was adorable, really, that you thought a couple metal locks and keys would somehow prevent him from breaking and entering again. 

You changed into your lingerie slip dress, careful to look over your shoulder just to check the corner of your bedroom. You figured at this point, since law enforcement was unwilling to do anything, you might as well try to get some rest and figure out a new game plan in the morning. Curling up in bed, you hugged your pillow close to your chest and drifted off into a deep slumber. 

He liked to watch you sleep. The way your chest slowly rose and fell with every breath you took. How your lingerie was so short it barely covered the tops of your thighs. Your soft tits pressed up against the sheets. That subtle furrow between your brows and pout in your lips. And how peaceful you looked. He wished he could capture this moment and frame it so he could enjoy it for the rest of eternity. 

He couldn’t take sitting around waiting anymore. He just wanted to come in and touch you. With one smooth motion, he leapt from the branch and onto your windowsill. He took his blade and gently drew an indent through one of the bottom tiles. Gingerly, he pushed the glass through. Slipping his hand through the opening, he unlocked your window from the inside. 

I am just too good, he snickered to himself, quite proud of his accomplishment. He lifted up the window and carefully stepped onto the carpet, extra cautious not to awaken you. He quickly snuck into your bed, sliding in to spoon you from behind. 

He liked how warm you felt against his skin. It was almost as if, even for a second, that he was no longer in the constant state of pain he was always in. You shifted around slightly in your sleep, and to his surprise, actually cuddled up even closer against him. You murmured something softly to yourself, and then returned back to your peaceful rest. 

He traced the contour of your thighs, hips, and waist with his gloved fingertips, appreciating the fine texture of your lingerie. He gently pushed locks of your hair out of the way to expose your neck. 

Quietly, he lifted up his mask just enough to reveal his lips and suckled on the sensitive curve of your neck. He cradled your round breasts in his hands, pressing his body against your back as he worshiped your soft, supple skin with his mouth. 

You moaned a little in your sleep, raising up your hands slightly to catch his, and he gladly interlaced your fingers with his own. He was shocked that you were taking this so well, mirroring all of his motions and going with the flow as he ravaged you so freely. It only emboldened him to do more. 

He ventured two of his fingers in between your lips, gently teasing the top of your tongue while he reached for the back of your throat. This was enough to stir you from your slumber, and you woke up groggily to the moonlight pouring through your window. 

“Mffhn..” you sputtered through his fingertips sleepily. “Hwghn!”

“Shh shh shh..” Deadpool whispered, his arm immediately tightening around your waist to prevent you from wriggling away. “You are safe.. you’re with me after all!”

Immediately, your blood ran cold, heart dropping into the deepest pits of your stomach. “How the hell did you even get in here?!” you exclaimed, pushing his hand out of your mouth and struggling to escape from his grasp. 

“Well it’s not like you live in some maximum security prison,” Wade explained matter-of-factly. “I just scaled your building, climbed up the conveniently placed sycamore out there, beautiful specimen by the way, smashed your window, and voila! Trespassing 101.”

“You are insane!” you cried out, trying to push his arm loose so you could break free but failing miserably at the same time. “I had to call the police, did you know that? How the hell did you even find out where I live? I barely even spoke a sentence to you that day!”

“Oh, you sweet summer child,” the mercenary said. “You would be surprised at the amount of information someone could find out about you with just your name. And besides, you were sweet enough to give me a lukewarm skinny vanilla latte the other day. You know I had to pay it forward and return the favor..”

“I just want you to leave me alone, please,” you begged, trying to hold back tears. “I haven’t done anything to anyone, I just want to live my life. Please, just tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.”

“You are so naive, you know that?” Wade teased, watching you begin to cry helplessly. “It’s not the fact that you’ve done anything, it’s that you haven’t done anything. And also that I’m just an intensely obsessive person who tends to hyperfixate on whatever catches my attention, speaking of which, that is definitely something I should bring up in therapy next week.”

“I don’t understand..” you sighed, teardrops falling down your cheek, which Wade gladly licked up, much to your dismay. He brushed his hot tongue against your sensitive skin, tasting your salty tears without even an ounce of hesitation. 

“A-are you going to kill me?” you stammered, turning your face as far away from him as possible as he kissed your wet cheek. 

“Kill you?” Wade repeated, drawing back slightly. “Who do you think I am, a monster? I mean, to be fair, yes, I do occasionally take the odd hit deal every now and then, but only if it is within my paygrade! After the entire saving the world as we know it thing, I don’t know if you heard about it, but people have been blowing my phone up non-stop, it’s out of control!”

You gasped as his free hand reached up to grasp firmly around your throat, his pressure increasing ever so slightly by the second. 

“But I gotta say,” his tone immediately darkened. “The feeling of choking someone so hard, to the point where they are right at the cusp between life and death, never fails to get me going. I mean, I am so hard right now, you wouldn’t believe it!”

You tried to gulp up a breath of air, but his hold was unrelenting. You whimpered helplessly when you felt his hand untangle from around your waist and lift up the bottom of your lingerie dress to reveal your lacy thong. 

“Ooooh, now what do we have here,” he snickered to himself, fondling your exposed ass and smacking it hard, causing your entire body to shake. 

“Pl-please no..” you begged, more tears cascading down your face. “I-I haven’t done it yet.. with anyone. I want my first time to be special. You can do anything to me just please, not that.”

Wade gasped, quite taken aback by your statement. “You’re a virgin?” he asked, finally releasing his grip from around your neck. He could feel your body shaking helplessly against him out of fear. “Oh. My. God. That was something I did not expect. I mean, absolutely, I thought you looked like a sweet innocent little thing but to not give yourself away to anyone even once? How the hell does that even happen? Is it like a religious thing or something? Because I respect all religions. One of my best friends, Dopinder is Hindu. Oh, and my roommate, Blind Al, took me to church one Sunday and I truly saw the light that day!”

“N-no it’s not that,” you stuttered, coughing up some of your saliva. “I just.. haven’t had the opportunity I guess.”

“Well you are in for a treat,” the assassin said with a tone of finality, his attention returning to your skimpy underwear. “Because I have been told by many that I fuck hard. Someone even told me that I was the best they ever had. But that’s because they fucked me, eh, regardless it was still an amazing experience.”

“Please don’t..” you whined, trying to pull down the skirt of your lingerie to cover up. “I-I don’t want to do it with you..”

“I am hurt!” Wade replied, clasping his heart theatrically. “After my entire sales pitch? You know, you really are something, Y/N. Most people would be thrilled, over the moon right now. But you are practically begging me to stop! Well, let’s see if we can change your mind..”

He pushed your hand out of the way, and proceeded to tug the thin fabric covering you to the side, revealing your pretty, swollen pussy. 

“My god,” the assassin breathed to himself, allowing his fingertips to dance over your delectable peach. “Y/N, you are perfect. I mean, look at this thing. She’s practically begging me to fuck her. And you’re saying no one else has ever had you before? This has gotta be some sort of sick joke.” 

He leaned down, as if to talk to your pussy. “I am so sorry that no one has ever given you the attention you deserve before. But I am gonna make sure that this will be the best fuck of your life. Okay? Okay, good talk.” 

You grabbed your pillow and hugged it close to your chest, burying your tear-stained face against it, bracing yourself for whatever was to come next. “J-just.. Be gentle please. If you’re going to do it anyway, please don’t make it hurt.”

Wade began to rub your tight little mound, drawing undulating circles over your labia, coaxing it to open up for him. He could feel your juices slowly sliding through, coating his leather-gloved fingers. 

“Ooo, you’re getting wet, Y/N,” he laughed. “And don’t you worry your sweet little head, my angel baby girl. I will take very, very good care of you..” Without another word, he slipped his index finger inside of you, causing you to clench tightly around him. 

You sunk your teeth into the fabric of your pillow, squeezing your eyes shut when you felt him penetrate you for the first time. 

“You are already resisting me, even if it’s just a finger,” Wade murmured. “You need to relax, Y/N. Just let me do all the work, okay? You just lay there and be the adorable pillow princess I know that you are.”

“But it hurts,” you sobbed quietly, clutching the pillow even tighter. 

“I know, baby, I know,” Wade cooed, his voice surprisingly gentle. You were taken aback by how quickly his tone could shift. In the matter of a split second. 

He felt your vagina slowly open up to him, enticing him to slip his middle finger in as well. “Now how does this one feel, Y/N?”

You were squeezing your knees together, still crying softly to yourself. Wade looked over your neck, gently prying the pillow out of your hand. “Let me see your face.”

You looked away from him, too scared to even make eye contact. He leaned down and kissed over your tears, still fingers-deep inside of you. “God, you are so fucking precious, you know that? It’s extremely irritating.”

“I’m.. sorry?” you said confusedly, bringing the pillow back over your face. 

Wade shook his head as he continued to finger your innocent pussy, pistoning his fingers back and forth. “Yeah, well, you should be. Because it’s very fucking distracting.”

You sighed as you felt his two expert digits pushing in and out of you, gasping when he stretched them apart, trying to test your limit. 

“You are soaking wet..” Wade breathed, as he withdrew his gloved hand and licked you off of him, a string of saliva connecting between his lips and fingertips. “I think you’re ready for me, Y/N.”

“N-no please don’t!” you cried, trying to wriggle away from him, but his arm already snaked back around your waist, locking you in place. 

“Oh, but I have to now,” Deadpool replied with glee. “We can’t just let the readers down without showing the grand finale. They’ve read up to this point, after all. I mean, that’s like the best part!”

He carefully unzipped his fly, allowing his cock to free out, pressing it up against your mound. He pushed and prodded it up against you, trying to elicit a reaction out of you. “How does this feel, Y/N?”

“It feels.. weird,” you responded, clenching your legs together out of apprehension. “W-would you even fit?”

“I’ll sure as hell try,” Wade said, teasing your entrance by pressing his tip right up against you. “You aren't getting out of this that easy, Y/N. If it doesn’t fit, I’ll make it fit. You just sit there and take it. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about a single damn thing. Okay?”

He gradually pushed himself inside of you, filling you up slowly and surely. He could feel the insides of your walls hugging up against him, encouraging him even more. 

“Do you like that, Y/N?” he whispered into your ear, his hot breath splashing over your neck. “Do you like the feeling of me inside of you like this? Because I fucking love it. Like, you are so tight! I can barely even move, it’s crazy!”

Your hand reached down over your lower abdomen, feeling the slight outline of him over your fingertips. “I-it just sort of hurts..”

“Yeah?” Wade breathed, his free hand reaching up and clasping around your neck again. “Does it hurt when I do this, then?” He tightened his grasp around your throat, watching with sadistic excitement as you struggled to breathe while taking him at the same time. 

“You know what’s really fucked up, Y/N?” the mercenary said, as he slowly began to move in and out of you, gauging your reaction each time. “I was a hitman for a long time. Like, years. Killing all sorts of unsavory types. But you know what my favorite part of the job was? And why I was so fucking good at it?”

“Wh-why?” you moaned out, a blush beginning to creep over your face as he rammed inside of you. You didn’t truly understand at first, but you were starting to enjoy this feeling. 

“Because I liked to watch people suffer,” he replied simply, not taking his eyes off of you. “And still do, now that I think of it. I like to see people writhe in pain. Like when I pierced someone with a sword, literally straight through his stomach. And he just looked at me, screaming. And I just watched him bleed out right in front of me. Most people would be mortified after seeing such a thing but I was.. Happier than I’ve ever been.”

You looked down, watching as his cock thrusted into you with enough vigor to make the bed squeak with every beat. You sighed, moaning his name, begging him to slow down even just for a second, but he just kept going without so much as a second thought. 

“Or this other time,” Wade continued. “When I held a gun up to some guy’s head. And I was right about to pull the trigger. And he just looked up at me, begging for me not to. How he has a wife and kids, and a whole life ahead of him and blah blah blah. In that moment I felt like I had so much.. power. It was the most alive I’ve ever been.”

You were beginning to see stars at this point, gasping as he pushed so deep into you that you were scared you were going to break open.

 

“But you know who my favorite of all my victims is?” he asked, his hand releasing your neck and gliding playfully over your cleavage, teasing your hardened nipples with his fingertips. 

“Who?” you looked over at him, locking eyes with him for the first time. 

He gently lifted up your leg so he could access you even more. 

“You,” he said while cumming inside of you. “Watching you practically beg me not to fuck you, and me doing it anyway. You crying into your little pillow. The life in your eyes slowly melting away when I was choking you.. everything about you, really. It just makes me so fucking turned on.”

“Pl-please don’t finish inside me,” you breathed, watching helplessly as his cream dripped generously out of you after he pulled out, his cum gushing out like a faucet. You felt your eyes roll into the back of your head and your vision cloud over. 

“Well, that was a blast!” Wade said, chuckling to himself at his own awful joke, zipping his fly back up. He leaned over you, slapping you gently on your cheek. “And you did so good, too.”

Before he left your room, he made sure to leave a mark that he was here. Unsheathing one of his katanas, he leaned over your bed, and created what he liked to call a masterpiece into your bedpost. 

“Y/N.. and Deadpool!” he murmured, carefully carving yours and his initials inside a heart into the wood. He also made sure to draw his signature masked face right below. “Aaand all done! So you can cherish this moment forever.”

Without another word, Wade crawled out of your window and disappeared into the night, leaving you in a sticky, dripping mess.

[animeyanderelover]

May or may not write in the next few days also some poly!relationship with Morticia and Gomez Addams (as portrayed in the two movies in the early 90s). For now I would like to try my skills with my currently other hyperfixation. We're talking about the Wolverine version as portrayed in the first 3 X-Men movies.

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, stalking, overprotective behavior, death

Wolverine Hc's

The situation would be quite difficult and most definitely unexpected for Logan. He has spent years just aimlessly wandering around with no clear recollection of who he is and how he came to be, spent years just getting by somehow before Professor Charles and the X-Men offered him the closest thing to a family he has had since he came to be. He's loyal yet still sees himself as a loner who prefers keeping to himself. He's very conscious of his own feelings above anything else and even though he's known for his short temper and crude attitude he is by no means a bad person which is why he tries to put some distance between the two of you, fully aware that you shouldn't associate with him. At that point it is most likely too late already. For Logan to get so attached to you to the point of obsession it's likely that the two of you have known each other for a while now and that you've opened his heart up without even being aware of it. You've essentially just gained yourself a guard dog who will take any physical harm for you all too gladly.

Whilst Logan can be very possessive, especially in an established relationship, above all he is very protective. He spends most of his days just watching you from a distance, usually able to track you down by scent and sound alone. Normally his days do not require him to be overly busy unless Professor Charles needs something from him so he has a lot of time on his hands which he gladly devotes to you. All too often you have him always a few feet away from him, watching over you and willing to interfere as soon as anything or anyone should pose a threat to you. As someone who doesn't like when his own freedom is limited Logan at least gives it a try to not be too protective yet the fact that his senses are so much keener do not make this task easier. Never think that he isn't good in noticing your current mood. He hears it when your heart starts racing and his elevated sense of smell makes him very sensitive to changes in your body odor as he's able to detect the chemical changes when your emotions change. This plays a role in how he reacts and if his darling is highly emotional or on a more anxious Logan will be naturally more protective.

Your existence is a blessing as much as it is a curse for him simply because you make Logan aware just how painfully lonely he feels now that he has started yearning for you. You make him miserable in more than one way. Somehow he makes the situation even worse for himself though whilst being your devoted watchdog from the shadows. He's usually there when you spend time with friends or family outside, observing from a safe distance all whilst feeling a strange sensation tugging at his heartstrings, a strange sensation edging between warm comfort and cold loneliness. He'd like to be by your side too but knows that there are things he still has to work on. Jealousy is one of a few emotions that tends to make you aware that there is in fact a man following you around and the first time you hear that guttural growl from behind you you believe for a short moment that a beast is standing right behind you. One may call him too protective but he isn't irrational when he's jealous for neither his nose nor his ears lie to him. He knows exactly when you feel attracted to someone or vice versa.

People have insulted him more than once as being no better than an animal, a beast with no mind of his own. That is not true as Logan doesn't blindly attack people but killing others he will do if it guarantees your safety. There's a difference between arrogant stupidity that some may put up for show and the genuine bloodlust , the will that it takes to kill someone and Logan is able to tell the difference which often spares idiots their life as a few simple threats with his adamantium claws are more than sufficient enough to have grown men running away like little kids. Anyone who really comes for your life though will be met with the beast he has been called he is. Logan is fully prepared to murder anyone who would even dare try to lay a finger on you and his regenerative abilities tend to make him very reckless, fully prepared to use his own body as a shield and endure all injuries if it means that there isn't a single scratch on you. The one mistake someone could make though is triggering him to go berserk by hurting you, leaving him attacking and hurting anyone around him blindly, his mind clouded in red rage as he tears through blood and flesh.

In all the years since he has awoken without any memories of his previous life he has never been able to settle down once as a unease deeply rooted within his soul kept him moving from place to place, too restless to ever allow himself to sit still for even a moment. He has no place where he could keep you and Logan knows that yet strangely enough the longer he starts spending time near you the more he feels a previously unfamiliar ease washing over him, one that motivates him to give a permanent stay in a place a chance, something that previously used to be unimaginable for him. Even if he were to actually take that step and buy a small house he would still refrain himself from kidnapping you unless his trauma that lays dormant somewhere in his mind would resurface when he has to witness the heart-shattering situation of almost losing you, a vice on his mind that would taunt him forever that you almost lost your life because he couldn't protect you. The guilt will most likely only serve as an additional shackle around his soul yet his paranoia would ultimately outweight his guilt.

You may fall in the same trap as others do when they initially lay eyes upon the wild-looking man. Whilst Logan is gruff, crude and quite aggressive at times he is not only that. He's more but that is a side he only reserves for the people he trusts and you figure out that there is far more beneath his hardened surface. He's kind, he's loyal, surprisingly gentle and downright flirty once you get to know him better. He's usually careful with his touches, aware that his grip may hurt you more due to the adamantium that coats all of his bones. Your scent usually manages to calm him as soon as he gets a whiff of it unless it would be tinged with distress in which case his own emotions would quickly start stirring up with worry. There are still occasionally moments where he appears more uncertain and hesitant, moments where he questions just how much he should indulge in all of this and to a degree even how much he deserves it. At that point he's already aware that it is far too late to recover though as he'd leave half of his heart with you if he were to distance himself from you now, doomed to always live only half the life he could have if he were to have you.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

OH MY GOD imagine platonic yandere adults, find out that the reader is their biological child somehow. Maybe from one of the scientists while doing some test and yans find out they need all of there reactions, especally if Wanda and peitro find out they have another sibling.

Ooooooh, yes! Yeah, that WOULD make things different. Because now the adult/s in question feel more attached (or entitled) to Reader, especially if they were someone who turned out very different from them (as in, saner and maybe a bit nicer)...

If it was Magneto who was Reader's biological parent, surprise, he's now doubling his efforts to free himself, his kids, Charles, and the rest of them out. And those who harmed his kids? They'll be dead when he's done with them. Of course, he is going to try and get closer to Reader, attempt to tell them what he now knows. Hopefully they believe him...

If Charles Xavier is Reader's biological parent, oh, what's this? A few guards mysteriously ended up in a coma? Oh, some head scientist who saw him went insane? That's nothing to worry about, but let's talk, try to calm down, and enjoy a bit of peace, shall we? Yeah, Xavier is ready to keep Reader safe, be it by incapacitating their abusers or simply helping calm his kid down. He wants to badly tell them their relation, but he's aware that it might not be a good time. But on the other hand, he doesn't know how long any of them have...

If Logan is Reader's biological parent, he's scared. He doesn't want them to get hurt, and he doesn't want them to be used as a weapon. He also doesn't want to hurt them. But he also wants to be close to them, wants to protect them. He's worried even more, because they could get hurt just for being related to him. He feels like he can be a bit more feral around them if he's their parent, because it's just as likely they're feral, too, and neither one of them would hurt the other when they're like that, would they? He'll be by their side as long as he can, and he'll try his best to keep them safe. He just hopes Reader survives long enough so they can escape...

If Victor was Reader's biological parent, he's ready to break out even sooner. He has a cub? And they're hurt? And they're sweet? And they're his blood? Ooooooooh, he's going to be goring those lab rats when he's free. He can share his kid with Jimmy, Logan, his runt, but the others? ... He'll think about it. He gets more possessive of them, more protective. If Reader is his by blood, then he feels he should have a say in how they handle them... And he won't hurt them, he'll try not to, but they shouldn't run if he goes to collect them. They don't need to be scared of their papa, right? He's keeping them safe, getting rid of their enemies and freeing their friends and uncle...

If Ororo was Reader's biological parent, she'd be very loving and motherly towards them. She'd happily accept them, and she'd be happy to take care of them. She's sorry they're in this situation, and wishes they could have found this all out some other way, but she hopes that they can move past their trauma and heal together, along with Evan and their friends. She will be electrocuting anyone who lays hands on them, and will be keeping Reader close once they've all escaped. She just has to break the news to them first, that they are related... Hopefully it won't make things worse, finding out about all of this...

Mystique would feel happy about it. One of her kids actually likes her? And this child is friends were her other two children? It's perfect! Perhaps she can finally reconnect with them, the way she's wanted to for a long time. She however hates that they're all stuck in this death trap of a place. She'll get rid of the ones who did this to them, and then they can all go home. She has to do this. If not, she could very well lose them all before they've got the chance to leave. She just hopes she can tell Reader about this newfound information next time she sees them...

Hank would enjoy knowing this, while also being bewildered. He, has a child? Him? When did this happen? And with who? Where? Why? It doesn't matter, he supposes. It just matters that he tells them, eventually. And that they survive, and get out. He knows his team, his family, will accept Reader, they already do, so knowing Reader is his kid will only make him more able to have a claim over them, to truly parent them. He already has ideas, and he's so ready to be done with this awful place. All they have to do is make it awhile longer, and it will only be a bad memory...

(I'd gladly discuss each possible parent option further, but I myself like any of the feral guys as possible parents for Reader. What can I say? They're my comfort characters! But I would find it fun if Reader were someone's hidden kid/clone... What do y'all have in mind over this?)

[fandomzwriterk]

can i request yandere remy labeau x reader smut. Maybe he confesses his love to his darling and it leads to smut( if your comfortable with that)

My Queen of Hearts

Warnings: Yandere Remy + slightly ooc Remy + possessive Remy + NSFW content + Virgin Reader & Remy

A/n: I’m gonna do my best for this request and I’ll do the smut but be warned I’m not the best so don’t laugh. Also 3rd person reader! Pardon my poor Cajun-French I’m sorry😭😭

NSFW below 👇🏻

Remy Labeau was an eccentric man, and everyone in the X-Men knew that, none more so than Rouge, Remy’s past lover. Past? No that can’t be right… right? He still loves her right?

Nope

Remy moved on after Magneto came and moved into the mansion. He knew he stood no chance against the very man whom she could hold and touch. Much to everyone else’s surprise, even you, he said he was uninterested in her anymore.

“She ain’t my type of girl. That’s it bon amí.”

Logan didn’t believe him, after all he still loved Jean even if she was married, but he kept that to himself. Remy was just confused according to Logan. Morph and even Jubilee just went along with it… almost too well. But who were you to judge? Remy was one of your closest friends here, so of course you’d be by his side through his complicated relationship with Rouge.

“Hey Y/n can you, Storm, and Jean help me out with something?” You heard Jubilee say from down the hall

“I’ll be right there!” You spoke as you looked at Remy as he sat on the sofa, arms crossed behind his head as he listened to whatever Morph and Logan were telling him. “I’ll be right back Remy. Jubilee needs me.”

Remy smirked at you, just a classic thing he did to any girl he had “feelings” for. They weren’t real feelings, just a facade he put up around women, that’s just how Remy worked. But if you happened to be someone Remy wanted to give his attention to… he really showed you attention.

“Oh hello Y/n.” Jean spoke kindly as she waved a hello at you with a smile. It was nice to see her, she’d been gone with Scott for a few days. “Anyways Jubilee what did you want to talk about?”

“Well you know how Magnetos been here and… well I’ve just been wondering what you three have been thinking.”

Storm muttered something under her breath as she sat looking out the window thinking long and hard as a storm came rolling in. Jean couldn’t decide what she thought either.

“I think that, even with our rough past with him, he has good intentions for us and what the Professor wanted.”

“I’m not so sure Jean. He’s fought us for so many years and now that suddenly the Professor has passed and he’s deciding to forget it all? Something doesn’t add up.”

Both Storm and Jean were right. You hadn’t been around long enough to witness the bloodshed with Magneto that everyone had, but your time was long… just not long enough to meet the Professor. You’d been here when he had left, after Remy, Scott, Logan, Rouge, and Jean brought you back from a dangerous mission. You would’ve died that day if they didn’t save you from that gang and that half destroyed Sentinel.

“Well at least for Y/n it works out.”

“Jubilee!” Both women shouted

“What?! Rouge has been all ‘cuddly and friendly’ since Magneto got here and that leaves Gambit open.”

You just sighed, turning to walk out the door as the other three women stayed silent. Closing the door behind you hard, made you want to scream out loud about what Jubilee said.

“Just ignore it Y/n. Maybe it’ll-“

Your sentence cut short as a card flew in circles in front of you, doing a flip before heading into the darkness. Your eyes could barely see who it was, but you could just figure it out on your own anyways.

“Hello Remy.” You spoke to the dark hallway

Remy held the card between his pointer and middle finger, then spinning it between his other fingers. He took one step towards you, just barely being lit by the light of the moon through the window.

“My chérie what’s wrong?” Remy spoke with a smile, putting a hand over your shoulder as he pulled you along for a walk down the hall

“Nothing Remy. I’m just fine.”

“My ange I think differently. Let ol’ Gambit talk it out with you.”

You could never object to Remy’s kindness to you. He was the one who found you that day, trapped in a cell with nothing but a bucket and pieces of bones from any sort of meat. Everyone treated you with the utmost kindness. Scott and Logan kinda felt like your older brothers, sweet but also stubborn. Jean, Storm, and Rouge were like aunts to you, kind but never getting in the way as a “parent” like Scott did. Maybe that’s just because their baby hadn’t been born yet and he was so worried about a young mutant like you. But Remy… Remy was different. Remy was there on your darkest days, your companion through the nightmares, especially at nights like these.

“Alright let’s talk then.”

“That’s it ma princesse. Let your dear Gambit hear what you’re thinking about.”

You sat on the edge of his bed as Remy walked around and went straight the bathroom, winking at you before closing the door behind him. Well, that’s Remy for ya. But here’s the thing… you don’t even have to ask what anyone is thinking… you already know.

“My dulcinée… what are you thinking about?” You hear as Remy opens the door to reveal himself with nothing but his pink crop top and boxers on

“Remy!”

You sat up, coving your eyes because you were raised to be decent for people. Taking one step away towards the door, you couldn’t dare look at someone, especially Remy, like this.

“Mon amour where do you think you’re going?”

Remy followed you, grabbing your wrist as he pulls you back and spins you around so he’s against the door and you’re more inside his room. Remy, without a second to spare, locks the door with a smile on his face, his eyes scanning you up and down as if he was going to pounce on you that second.

“Remy I-“

Being much taller than you are, and able to pick you up easily, Remy walked up and pushed you down onto his bed, watching you as you stared into his crimson-black eyes. You scooted away, trying to crawl off onto the other side, but Remy was faster, practically jumping onto you and keeping you there, trapped under him. You couldn’t move, your body felt paralyzed as you looked into Remy’s adoring eyes. You always had a feeling about him… but you could never place what it was, that is, until now.

“Do you know what I’m thinking Ma Belle?”

“N-no Remy I-i don’t.”

Your words were honest, you truly did not wish to peek into Remy’s mind right now as he had you trapped under him, on his bed, half undressed already. With his one hand on your hip to keep you there, his other went to the side of your face, caressing it as he stared into your eyes, looking for something in them.

“Well darling I’m surprised you didn’t already look. Gambit’s been having some thoughts about you since he told Rouge to fuck off.”

If your face was red, you could feel it and Remy could see it. He knew what he was doing. But at the same time, what was he saying?

“You see my dear, once I realized Rouge would gladly leave your sweet and loving Gambit for some old prick, I decided to move on from her.”

His eyes stayed onto yours as he grabbed both sides of your hips, now turning to push your head down onto his pillows. His grip was hard, almost needy. Grabbing one of yours hands with his, he continued to look into your eyes, even as he brought your hand up to kiss it.

“Now looking back on it… I’m glad I did. Rogue could never compare to what I feel when I’m around you.”

“Remy…”

“Ma Belle you are everything I want, and even if Gambit can’t decide what he wants sometimes, he knows he wants you.”

Remy broke eye contact lifting himself up a little to look at you from head to toe once more, before burying his face in the crook of your neck. His body gently laid onto yours, keeping you there in his arms and trapped under him. Even if this was a trap… did you truly want to leave him when he’s right here, willing to love you when you’ve wanted it for so long already?

“Remy do you… is this a fling or are you serious?” You asked

Remy’s head perked up, staring down at you once more. He looked confused, as if you just asked him the hardest question ever in his life.

“My déesse there is no one that could ever make me feel the way you make me feel. I adore you… I treasure you… and I don’t want anyone else to have you. Not any of the other men here. Not anyone. Just me.”

Remy gripped onto your hand tightly, as if you were going to leave and never come back. His eyes searched yours for an answer.

“I want you… I’ve always wanted you my ange.”

You didn’t even have to think twice before sitting up and wrapping your other arm around Remy’s neck, pulling him closer.

“I love you Remy.”

“And I you my angel.”

Remy didn’t hesitate to let go of the grip on your hip, holding himself up as he moved closer to your face, staring at your lips. But he didn’t do anything, waiting for you to say those words he needed to hear as well.

“Chérie I… as much as I want it… I want to know if you want it too. Gambit doesn’t wanna force you to do anything you-“

You leaned up slightly feeling lips touch yours for a quick second, then moving your head to the side to show him your neck.

“I want it Remy… I want you.”

He quickly yanked off his shirt that had barely put it on a few minutes ago. Who cares? As long as Remy gets what he wants right?

“You are so beautiful my sweet.” He whispered as he started to help you take off your top, staring at your chest with wide eyes

Remy, being Remy, just kept his eyes there for a little longer than he should’ve, almost forgetting the best part of what was in front of him. It was hard to look away as he helped take off your bottoms and left you in nothing but your underwear as well. There was silence as you both looked each other in the eye, waiting for one of you to do something.

“Sweet god you are so perfect to me.”

He wasted no time, letting you move your hands to his back while he moved his face to the side of your neck. His breath was warm, yet shaky. He seemed… confused.

“Remy is this-“

“Ya. It is my dear. And… yours as well?”

You nodded. So at least both of you were willing and wanting to be each others first. You moved one hand to go behind Remy’s head, pushing down to his mouth on your neck. Then he seemed to understand where to start. One bite was all it took for Remy to start losing himself.

“Fuuuucckkkk Ma Chérie you taste so good.” Remy groaned as he pushed you deeper into his pillows, biting almost every inch of your neck as possible

“R-Remy I- fuck. Ah~”

Remy was practically laying on you at this point, and you could feel his erection through his boxers and your panties.

“My beauty you are so- fuck- sweet to me.”

Remy leaned back, staring at you as you felt your hands go for the waistband of his boxers. He shuffled a little so you could pull them down, seeing his cock pop out. He was big, but then again you’ve never seen another man’s dick before. He pulled yours down as well, flinging them over his shoulder and onto some part of the floor.

“I… how is this supposed to-“

No hesitation from Remy and he had you pushed back, putting all his weight onto you as he crushed you with his body and his lips on yours. He was hungry, and he was hungry for you. Here you were, finally in his arms and so ready to get fucked by him. Remy was shaking with need and want, holding himself back from unleashing all his feral energy into you.

“Fuck me my dear you are so sweet on my tongue.”

Your tongues fought for a few seconds, hands moving just to hold each other closer in such need and want of each other. After a couple more bites on your neck, Remy looked down to see your cute little hole wet and needy. He didn’t even have to prep you and you were already wet at all of the things going on with you two.

“F-fuck my dear I want to push it in so bad. Tell me you want it. Tell my you want me.” He growled in your ear

“I want it… I want you Remy. Please Remy I want you so badly.” You whined, practically moaning it out loud for everyone in the mansion to hear

With one hand holding onto his cock, the other set right next to your head as he carefully put the tip up to your entrance.

“This will hurt a little my dear. Don’t worry I’m here.”

With very little effort, the tip of his cock was past your entrance. You bit back the moans daring to escape, making sure nobody else could hear you two fucking just down the hall. Remy didn’t look any better, panting like a dog in heat and ready to fuck his mate. He wanted you, slowly going deeper as you sucked him in.

“Ah my darling you feel s-so good.”

It took a little bit of time, but eventually Remy was fully seated inside you and ready to go. Remy was losing himself in you, but it’s not like you were both feeling uncomfortable with each other. Being in this position with Remy just felt… right.

“I-I’m gonna go my dear.”

One pump out had you wanting him back in. One pump in and Remy had you screaming for more. Slowly, Remy waited for you to adjust to him, holding back whatever he was wanting to do to you.

“F-faster” you begged him

Remy had you moaning and pleading for him in a matter of minutes. Maybe you always did love Remy, you were just too much into denial to listen to yourself.

“Gods be damn my love you feel so-“

Remy’s inner mind snapped, staring down at you as he grabbed both wrists and pulled them over your head and pined them there. Remy’s hands wandering, going straight for your chest and grab at your tits.

“F-fuck Ma Chérie you really know how to take my cock don’t you? Is this what you’ve been wanting this whole time? Waiting for me to be alone with you and fuck your brains out? Huh? Oh yeah you feel so good.”

Remy started to ramble, letting his mind speak freely about everything he felt about you. You didn’t care, Remy made you feel good and you were happy to be making him feel good.

“Ma Belle you’re gonna- make me- ah~”

Remy was starting to get sloppy, and you were feeling a coil in your stomach build.

“Fuck yes my dear I can feel you. I can feel you squeezing my cock, wanting me to cum. Is that what you want?”

His voice was taunting you, as if knowing you’ve had feelings for him for ages. All you could do was nod, no words able to come out aside from screaming Remy’s name and any profanities that came to your head.

“Y-yes my darling. Oh yeah I’m gonna cum inside and that way, everyone will know I’m the only one who gets this. I’m the only one who gets you. Nobody can have you, and I’ll make sure of it.”

Remy had a few more to go, he was waiting for you. Feeling the coil about to snap, you screamed Remy’s name as you felt it break.

“O-oh yeah I’m cumming Ma Chérie… Ma Belle… I’m cumming inside. Fuckkk-“

And with one final thrust, Remy spilled inside you, shaky breaths coming out of both of you as you came down from your highs.

“Fuck. That felt… so good.” Remy spoke before collapsing next to you

You felt the cum spilling out of you, not caring that Remy’s bed was now smelling like the two of you. Remy pulled you close to him, your back pressing against his chest as he wrapped his arms around you protectively. You felt so drained from this whole endeavor with him, you might as well pass out right then and there.

“Sleep well my angel. Dont worry… I’m going to make sure nobody gets in the way of our love… not even our friends.”

You felt the grip on you tighten a little, Remy not willing to let you go at all.

“I’ll do anything for you… my sweet… I love you.”

A/N: I’m sorry if it sucked I’ll get better. This is literally the first smut I’ve ever written so uh… yeah I hope you enjoyed 😅

[blakeswritingimagines]

Dating Yandere Logan Howlett Would Include:

Very Possessive, won't take no for an answer. You are his. If he says jump you say how high. Extremely over-protective, very obsessive, very controlling, extremely possessive. You do everything he says no questions asked of you. And he makes the rules.

He will stalk you and watch you every day, make sure you eat, make sure you're okay, make sure you look good. If someone looks at you he will glare, if anyone makes a pass at you he will intervene. He will be extremely jealous and doesn't like anyone but him touching you.

He is going to be very touchy, and very affectionate, he will take any chance to touch you even if he knows it's a bad time. He will never want to be apart from you. He will be obsessed with everything about you. Your past, your present, and especially your future. He will be very overbearing.

He's very dominant, He's very sarcastic, rude, and angry most of the time but he will have his moments when he's soft or romantic. He can be a very caring person under all that anger. But the smallest mistakes can set him off. He's extremely aggressive when angry.

He also has a thing for his partner wearing his jacket, He's protective of those close to him like his family ( X-MEN ). He's got a habit of using terms of endearment with as love, pet, and a few others. He can be quite the cuddler if he feels like it. He's also grumpy most of the time he's not a morning person.

He hates when people touch or mess with his stuff, He'll be very rough with you in intimate moments, He has a short fuse and is often quick to anger, and He has a habit of swearing a lot. He's also not big on talking about his past. He's loyal and will try to make you happy. He enjoys violence and doesn't really like being bossed around.

In front of others as a yandere, he's very possessive like putting a hand on your waist to pull you close, very overprotective like if another man looks in your direction it'll set him off. He doesn't want anyone looking at you except him, He will growl if any man gets close to you. He'll make it clear he owns you and you're his only.

There would be rewards for you when you obeyed him, He'd get you something like a necklace with his initial or something to show that you are his. He'd also give you a lot of cuddles and praise you for being good, he might also be a bit more romantic or gentle with you. He'd tell you that you're a good pet and that he loves you.

His punishments would be to take certain privileges away from you like phone privileges or watching TV. He'd send you to your room or give you a corner to sit in and you'd be on restriction. But he also punishes you by depriving you of touch, affection, and attention. If were to punish you he'd not touch you at all. He also punishes you by making you wear a collar with a leash to show who you belong to.

Fighting with each other he will be dominant while fighting with you just so he can prove who's in charge, he'll push you against the wall, hold your arms above your head so you can't fight back against him and he'll get in your face so he can look at you while he talks. He'll tower over you and make it clear that he's stronger than you so you can't fight back. He'll hold you in place so you can't make any more movements to try and defy him.

The kind of affection he'll give is holding you in his lap and giving you head pets, He would often make you sit in his lap. Cuddling will also be his favorite way to show affection. There would also be sweet soft kisses if you do what he says or obey him, he would also be quite the cuddler when he feels like it.

Dates if he feels like it, He'd take you somewhere expensive and he'd pay for the whole date. He'll hold your hand and he'll get your chair for you. If you do what he says he might let you order whatever you want. He'll be quite gentlemanly during the date and maybe a slight bit romantic, He'll take you home afterwards and if you were good he might kiss you goodnight.

He'll fight with anyone who tries to separate you from him, He's quite aggressive when it comes to anyone trying to take you away from him. That also includes the other X-MEN, if they get in the way or mess with him, they'll quickly find themselves flat on their ass on the floor if they try to pull him off of you or stop him.

Absolutely he will kill for you, If anyone tries to hurt you or make you sad he will end that person, he will do whatever it takes to protect his love. He will do anything to keep you safe and he will make sure that no one or nothing harms you.

If you have powers and abilities he'd watch you use them, he'd study you as you use them closely, see how powerful your powers are, and how he can use them in a way where you only use them when he says so. He'd want to be the only one you use your powers in front of. He'll be very possessive and controlling of your powers, he'd be in control of them completely.

Yes, he has a shrine, it's a big photo album, it's filled with pictures of you, notes or letters from you, and other things like that to remind him of you. There'd also be your pillow which is very important to him even having a picture of you near it. There'd also things you owned that were left at the X-MEN headquarters in his room.

He'd want to propose the traditional way, down on one knee looking up at you, he'd ask you the question and would want you to say yes. He doesn't care where to ask he'd do it in the middle of the park if he wanted to. Once you've said yes he'd pick you up, hold you close, kiss you fiercely, and carry you all the way back to the X-MEN headquarters.

If there were ever to be kids he would want a boy he could raise to be just like him, strong and aggressive like he is and a little girl like you, he'd want to spoil the little girl. He'd spoil her to death and be very protective of her, which also means that he'd be overprotective of you and the child/children during and after pregnancy.

If you didn't want or couldn't have kids he would be fine with it, he doesn't need kids to be happy as long as he has you and only you then he's happy. He'd accept that you don't or can't have kids and love you no less. There would also be more cuddles and affection to make up for it.

"You're mine, no one else gets to touch you or look at you, only I do. You belong to me and me only, you will do everything and listen to me without questioning or else there will be consequences. You are beautiful, you are strong. You are perfect, but you belong to me. Don't ever forget that."

Bondage- He likes having you tied up, bound up, and at his mercy and being unable to move or fight back.

Domination- He's dominant and this is one of his absolute favorites, having full control of you.

Praise, He loves the idea of you looking up at him and being good for him, so he loves to let you know when you're being good and praise you.

Spanking/Biting - He loves being aggressive and leaving behind his mark on you. Biting, he's gonna leave his love bites all over your body to show that you're his.

Daddy - he loves it when you call him that while you're being a brat or a tease, he'd get all worked up and would want to take you right there.

[electricgg]

Ancient Dreams In A Modern Land

Chapter 7: Silver Spoons And Butter Knives, Living Hand To Mouth I’m Getting By

Masterlist / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 (Here!) / Chapter 8 / Trigger Warnings: Descriptions of Bullying, Suicidal implications, Body harm, Body Horror

The concept of boarding school wasn’t as bad as people portray it.

A boarding school is an institution where students live on the premises while receiving formal instruction, essentially providing both lodging and meals. Unlike normal schools, boarding schools offer a residential experience, often encompassing a wider range of extracurricular activities and a sense of community.

At least, that’s the literal definition she found on the internet. 

When Bobby (with whom she had exchanged phone numbers and yapped the whole weekend through text, and sent her way too many TikToks she didn’t really understand but found funny) had asked her if she was staying at the dorms so they could hang out after class, she suddenly found a ray of hope of getting away from the Waynes.

Which led her to do a thorough research on Wikipedia.

Gotham Academy has been a prestigious, private boarding school for Gotham’s elite. And anyone who could afford it, or had a scholarship. 

Most members of the Wayne family had gone to the academy. Most of the said members were expelled or dropped out of it.

Including Bruce himself.

Which is why she was currently pissed off on a Monday morning as Alfred drove the younger members of the family to school.

“This is bullshit,” She muttered while pouting at the window, arms crossed and legs sprawled out in the passenger seat.

The butler gave her a pointed look, letting her know that she should behave. The young girl readjusted her sitting position with a grumble. Her glare followed the tall buildings and the people walking around the busy sidewalk, passing them by in a blur to those with normal eyesight.

Not for her, thought. Everything seemed so slow-paced today.

It was quite annoying. From the moment she woke up that morning, it had been like stepping into a slow-motion sequence. The curtains of her room moved oh so gently, it almost seemed like they were floating. The water from her shower had stopped for a few moments, and she could even count the drops of the stream that stood frozen in the air before she received a cold splash in the face that almost made her crack her head open again if she hadn’t hung onto the built-in shelves on the wall. Then, the gremlin at breakfast. He seemed to take his sweet time eating his French toast, which was almost disturbing to see how slow someone could chew on his food. It made her sick to the stomach remembering it.

They were short lapses of time. Didn’t last too long, but those moments still managed to unsettle her and keep her on the edge.

“I’m afraid this is something you will have to discuss with your father, my dear.” His voice took her away from her musings, returning her mind to the present.

‘Where was I? Oh, right,’ her anger returning once again.

Just when she thought she had found a way to escape from the suffocating manor, the family had once again meddled with her brilliant plans.

Apparently, she did not form part of the whole boarding school experience. (Well, Wayne didn’t)

Due to the many incidents involving her ‘siblings’ and ‘father’ at the school in their scholarly years, they had gained a rather infamous reputation. This led to taking away certain privileges when a member of the Wayne family was to be enrolled at the academy.

Said privileges were not being able to partake in staying at the dorms through the semester.

(aka. Waynes were banned from the academy dorms.)

“I don’t understand why a sudden need to stay in such facilities.” Damian retorted from his place in the backseat. Still giving her the stinkeye for taking the front seat first (she had taken off while yelling ‘shotgun’ through the halls, making Drake get up from his deep sleep and come out of his room to see what was happening with his sheets all tangled on his legs.)

“Pennyworth makes far better meals, and the beds haven’t been thoroughly cleaned in ages. That’s without mentioning having to share your personal space with a stranger who lacks manners.” That last part made her bite her tongue hard.

‘When the irony is ironing,’ She thought sarcastically.

 “It’s all about the independence and socializing. Who doesn’t like talking to total strangers and getting to know them while also sharing a bathroom?” Her lips were curling in a grin, her tone letting on very clearly what she was referring to.

Damian tutted, harshly crossing his arms while glaring at her. Alfred simply sighed as he pulled through the metal front gate of the academy.

“Since when do you like socializing, Embarrassment?” He remarked on the nickname with a cold glare at the back of her seat. 

And as if she had sensed it, she took off her seatbelt and turned half of her body to the back so she could face him directly. Both of their glares clashed with one another. 

Alfred got out of the car to take out her school bag from the back of the car, wondering to himself if he was truly paid enough to deal with teenagers.

Damian was very much annoyed at her new attitude. It was getting on his nerves how she stood her ground and didn’t flatter. He couldn’t have missed this part of her. He was the son of the greatest detective in the world, and he took pride in his deduction skills. And he had deducted his sister from the first moment they met. Never, in a million years, would she have the courage to act like this. Too insecure. Too weak. Too scared.

She would have had to die and be reborn to be acting like this.

“Don’t act like you know me, Damian.” His name sounded like a curse in the making on her tongue. Her deep, dark eyes stared directly into his own, a glint of something akin to sardonic gone the moment she turned back on her seat and opened the car door.

“You don’t have the right to judge. Not then. Not now. Not ever.”

With that, she stepped out and slammed the door shut, leaving him with words in his mouth.

He could only follow her stomping outside towards Alfred out of the corner of his eye, refusing to turn his face a single inch towards them. She seemed to mutter something to the older man, to whom he put a hand on her shoulder and spoke very gently. 

Her eyes softened, and Damian couldn’t help but be put off by it.

He was well aware that she used grey contact lenses. She always wore them, no matter what. One would think she would sleep while wearing them, but he knew she wasn’t that stupid.

He never wondered why she used them, scraping it off as some odd fashing trend girls her age were into. They just were part of her and he went along with it. Never putting much thought into it.

Now, Damian was putting a lot of thought into it.

He had always known that he was an almost carbon copy of his father. Black hair, facial structure, etc. There was little doubt about his heritage and he took pride in it.

His half-sibling was another story. No matter how hard she tried to dress, act, talk, and move like them, she didn’t seem to fit in. The cold colors and heavy presence that were very characteristic of the Waynes didn’t suit her. 

It had been obvious before, but now it was undeniable to Damian. 

And it was all because of those damned eyes.

He wouldn’t dare to say it out loud, maybe just ponder it to himself, only in his thoughts, but Damian wanted her grey eyes back.

Those grey eyes that would crinkle in worry when he came back upset from a bad patrol night. Those grey eyes that would widen in excitement when she looked over his sketchbook and praised his skills. Those grey eyes that were full of softness and care, asking about how his day was at school.

…Maybe he wasn’t missing the grey. Not really.

‘It doesn’t make any sense.’ His mind hissed, making his frown deepen. ‘Why is this bothering me so much? She is just a nuisance and below-’

“Hey! Bobby! Over here!”

Her shout made Damian snap his head towards the car window with a snarl. Which slipped down slowly as he took in the scene happening outside.

She was waving her arm over her head quite fast towards someone. A guy who was smiling way too much for his taste (it almost made him turn away in disgust, but he fought against it), as he moved towards her with a jump in his walk. He looked like an overgrown golden retriever, wearing the academy uniform.

What happened next made Damian’s blood go cold and hot at the same time, his nails sinking into the fabric of his clothes, and his lips pressed tightly.

Because that guy dared to come close to his sister and pick her up in a hug while twirling her around.

Her bright laugh as she was put down, quickly jumping into a conversation with the big oaf while patting down her now wrinkly uniform, made his stomach twist into a feeling he couldn’t quite place yet.

The warmth in her eyes had Damian bite inside his cheek, chest tight as she began to walk away with the guy, with a quick goodbye to a smiling Alfred, who had begun to go inside the car and pull away from the school grounds.

The young boy’s stare didn’t move away from the pair. Not until he lost them out of sight due to the distance.

Who did that guy think he was?! Coming so close to her and acting so touchy with his sister.

Was he a friend? No way. She didn’t have any friends. He was sure.

Was he?

Was he a boyfriend? Ridiculous, there was no way she would have hidden something like that from the family. She wouldn’t.

…Would she? 

What else had she been keeping quiet? What else didn’t he know about her? When had she changed? Had she even changed? Was she always like this and he just came to notice? When she grew tired of his prickly nature and sharp words? Did he lose her affection? Was he too late?

Did he lose her without even knowing?

‘No,’ He thought, fingers curled into fists by his side as he gave a glance to the smaller view of the academy through the window.

‘Something is wrong here.’

‘And I will find out.’

 ━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

The academy was huge. It had halls over halls and stairs over stairs. An old smell stuck on the stone walls that gave the building an even more mystic flair, as if the gargoyle statues on every corner of the gate halls weren’t enough. It even had tall stained glass windows that gave a view of the huge campus: the main fountain, the track field, the outdoor gym, and many other places.

It was by pure miracle that she didn’t end up lost. But that was mostly because Bobby would drag her by the back of her school vest whenever she wandered off.

She was very thankful for that, since her ghost companion was not here today to guide her.

Wayne said that she would stay at the manor for the day, something along the lines of that she should experience the full school experience without her help (which screamed bullshit but she wasn’t going to fight her on that. If she was a ghost and had the choice to not go to school, she would also do the same) and trying to find any clues for their small quest.

So now, she was walking by herself for the first time at a school. So exciting, right?

“-and then the coach said I could play in the next game if someone hurts themselves. Which is not bad, but I don’t know. I don’t want anyone to get hurt just so I can prove myself as a player, y’know?”

“Aren’t you here because of a scholarship? Don’t you need to play to be able to stay here?” She asked the stressed boy, who had been talking about this for the past few minutes as they walked towards their third class of the day.

Bobby was from New York, and he had taken a sports scholarship in the academy this very year, so he could get into Gotham University to study accounting. Just like his father, who was a bank accountant back at home. 

He formed part of the baseball school team and had been on the bench since he got inscribed into the academy.

Leading to his sudden stress of not having the chance to prove himself.

“Poor athletic performance can lead to losing the scholarship, so yeah. If I don’t play, I could lose it.” He quoted with his shoulders down, a deep sigh leaving his lungs as she patted his shoulder in a small show of support.

They had gotten along quite fast. Probably because Bobby had been the first open person with his thoughts and feelings since she woke up in that nasty pool. 

No underhanded comments. No pushiness. No expectations. Always asking if what they were talking about was okay. If she was comfortable with anything. 

It was a breath of fresh air, and she felt great hanging around him.

“What if I help you out with practice? I know jackshit about baseball, but I think I can throw some balls so you can practice swinging?” She offered with a shrug as they went into a half full classroom.

Bobby perked up with a huge smile and put an arm over her shoulder, slightly moving her side to side. “Please, and I will buy you ice cream every time after practice.”

That made her snort and shove him off of her playfully by pushing his face away with her hand, making him guaff and laugh.

“Personal space, jeez,” She said as he sat down on the second table and moved a chair back so she could sit beside him.

As he muttered his apologies, she couldn’t help but feel somebody’s stare on her back.

Just when she was gonna look over her shoulder, the bell rang, and everyone took their seats. Conversations quieted down as students began to pull out their books without a second thought.

Following everyone’s lead, she put out her history book with a sigh and kept her eyes downcast.

Now, there were many different stares and murmurs in her direction. From the corner of her eyes, she could see a few classmates whispering to each other or staring openly at her. 

‘Yeah, that ain’t gonna fly,’ she thought, twisting her head to give her classmates a dead stare that had them gasping and looking in different directions while pretending they were busy with their phones or books.

“That’s weird,” Bobby’s voice took her away from her successful intimidation. “Professor Jones is usually here before any of us.”

The girl shrugged, leaning back on her chair while she brought one crossed leg on the seat as the other bounced against the floor. “Maybe they got stuck in traffic or somethin-”

The classroom door slammed open, taking all the attention of the students and making the room fall into silence.

A man stepped inside and closed the door behind him, his steps heavy as he walked towards the desk and put down his brown leather handbag on the chair and a pack of old-looking cigars inside one of cabinets. 

He didn’t spare a single glance at them, picking up a piece of white chalk and beginning to write on the chalkboard.

He had a heavy build, like the ones that those wrestling guys on TV have, judging by how his shoulders and biceps stood out underneath his dark leather jacket. Some of the girls and a few other guys were staring intensely at his tight jeans, showing off his sculpted legs as well. 

What stood out more for her was his hairstyle, spiked on both sides of his black hair.

Once he finished writing on the board, he clapped his hands to shake off the chalk on his palms and turned around with a grunt. A severe frown on his face as he looked over the quiet students.

“Your professor has taken a sudden leave for the rest of the semester.” His gruff tone had people straighten up and glup loudly.

Bobby exchanged a quick look of confusion and uncertainty with her.

This man didn’t look like the type of person to give a history class.

“You may call me Teach or Mr. Munroe. None of that formal stuff. Whoever calls me Professor will give ten laps on the track field, am I clear?” He almost snarled the last part. 

Everyone nodded.

The man nodded and sat on the corner of the desk, crossing his arms. His tag necklace glinted with the movement as he pursed his lips in distaste once he saw the books sitting neatly on the desks.

“Now put those books away. We’re learning real history from now on.”

Some students muttered in confusion while a few others cheered as they put the books back in their bags. Bobby almost scrambled and rattled the desk as he took his book away, which made her snort a laugh and put her book down.

As the class continued, bustling with excitement over the new mysterious teacher and his unconventional method of teaching history, she had forgotten the odd stare she felt at the very beginning of class. It had simply slid off her mind.

In the back of the classroom, a guy with golden curls and clear eyes didn’t take his gaze off of her for the rest of the class.

 ━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

Bruce wasn’t expecting any visits this early in the day.

He had recived plenty of calls from Dick, trying to check on him and see how the investigation on the case had been going but he didn’t pick them up. Tim had gone to stay at the Titans’ tower, claiming his sleep schedule was messed up and staying at the manor wasn’t helping keep him focused on the case (Bruce had the fleeting suspicion that Conner had something to do with that decision.)

He was more than sure that everyone was clear that he wanted to be left alone at the moment.

But Jason couldn’t give two fucks about what Bruce wanted.

The past Robin had parked his bike by the Batmobile, leaving his red helmet hanging by one of the handles of his vehicle. Sauntering towards the concentrated detective, who was sitting in front of the main computer and surrounded by many documents and files both on the screen and on paper.

“You look like shit.”

Bruce only switched the documents in his hands without lifting his head.

“Gordon told me about the bodies.” He answered, a cold tone in his voice.

Jason threw himself on the nearest chair, legs spread as he stared at Bruce’s back with a smug air around him. 

“Jealous much?” He snarked. “That I got to them before you did?”

He was pushing his buttons. 

Jason wanted to see how far he could get. 

He was hoping for a fight, that way he could at least calm down the fury still running in his veins.

“You left them headless, and Gordon is still looking for their fingers, Jason.” Bruce hissed, finally turning around to glare at the guiltless man.

“They had it coming.”

“That was execution, Jason. It’s not how-”

“I ain’t one of your little robins, Bruce,” Jason retorted, leaning forward with his fists curling and gaze flashing green. “I did what you should have done the moment she was attacked.”

“There wasn’t enough proof yet-” The older man argued back, making Jason scoff and get up from the chair harshly.

The outlaw began to roam beneath his jacket, taking out crumbled files and dumping them over the keyboard of the computer. As soon as it hit the surface, pictures and documents fell out of it onto the ground and the desk.

“Take a look at your precious proof.”

Bruce took a moment before picking up a few of the pictures that had fallen on the floor. His jaw clenched, and his eyes darkened when he realized what the image showed.

It was from a surveillance camera. All the pictures were from different cameras around the city. The school grounds. The city parks. The mall. 

And even from the abandoned public pool.

In all of the pictures, she was there. Getting pushed around. Harassed by the same four guys. He could recognize that they had the same uniform as her from the academy. Maybe seniors, since they easily towered over her. 

The ones from the school contained different scenarios. Getting a phone flash shoved right in her face. Shoved down the stairs. Pushed on the school fountain. Yanked by her school bag or clothes. Getting too touchy with her, to the point of it being visibly rough.

One of the pictures showed her running in one of the parks, face blurred in panic as she looked over her shoulder at the boys trying to catch up to her.

Another one showed all five of them at the pool. Her on the ground, holding her head as it bled. Two of the boys were crouching down to hold her down while the others lifted a bloody brick.

He slammed the pictures down with a shuddering sigh. Throat tight, cold anger sinking from the tip of his fingers.

How long had this been going on? For how long had she been keeping this quiet? Why had she kept it quiet? Why didn’t she say something?

‘Had she said something? Did she say anything about it?’ His mind came on empty as many questions surfaced.

All those times he had turned her away, her knocks at his office door, and her silent voice asking if he was too busy. Always shutting her down, dreading to see her face and find old ghosts staring back at him. 

Was it right there? Did she reach out just for him to turn her away? 

Bruce felt a burning sensation behind his eyes.

“The documents are the transcripts of what I managed to get out of them on record.” Jason’s voice sounded far away.

Did she gather up the courage to come to him, and he gave her his back?

“Sick bastards, the lot of them,” Jason spat. “They had been tormenting her for years.”

Did she feel by herself in this? Nobody willing to listen? No one to trust?

“It went on from simply things. Spreading rumors about being into witchcraft and stuff. Saying that she would curse people with her bad luck if they came near her and odd shit like that to isolate her.”

How many times did he even talk to her? How many chances did he allow her to have to tell him about this?

“Then it moved to more physical stuff. Shoving, pushing, typical asshole stuff. Did you notice any bruises on her when she came from school?”

Bruises? What bruises? She was always wearing long sleeves, claiming it was too cold in the manor.

“You did notice, right? They said that it got ugly plenty of times.”

Long sleeves. Even when it was hot out. She always wore them. How could he never piece it together? How many bruises did she hide from Him?

“Bruce? Did you-”

His daughter. Bianca’s child. With long sleeves. Bruises. From that filth. How many? How many times was she hurt? How many times did he not notice? Gods, did she also- Had she also done it to herself? Had she felt there was no other way out of the lonesome existence he had put her into? That he was the one to inflict that on her? That would explain her current attitude. Her anger. Her glares. Her snarls. How could he ever blame her for acting out when it was all on him? Only himself to bla-

The sudden throbbing pain in his jaw snapped him out of his thoughts, making him stumble back as he looked at a fuming Jason with a lowered fist.

“No,” His glare was agitated, chest heaving, and teeth in a snarl. “You don’t get to feel sorry for yourself.”

Bruce took a sharp breath, his gaze lost as the sharpness of Jason’s words cut deep into his throat, making him unable to utter a word.

The younger man pointed a shaking finger at him in anger, taking steps closer towards the shocked man. “Either you fix this and admit you failed her, just like you failed me,”

Jason got up in his face, fist hitting against Bruce’s chest with a shuddering breath. Eyes blazing a toxic green, staring right into his grey ones.

“Or I will make sure that she turns out just like me.”

With that, Jason turned around and stomped to his bike. The engine roaring to life as he took off from the cave without giving him a single look back towards the currently shocked, quiet man.

Bruce then sank to the floor, hands tangled on his hair strands as he took deep breaths. Mind echoing with many words and questions.

But he could only choke out a few words to himself and the air.

“Oh, Bianca, I fucked it up to hell and back, didn’t I?…”

 ━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

The piano room was too silent.

Ever since Cassandra set foot in the manor, the piano room had always been filled with contained noise. The keys echoing down the halls, a soft melody that made her skin embrace the foreign warmth of a ballad repeated over and over, day by day.

She hadn’t heard a single note in the past week.

It made the air in the manor heavy and constricted, the halls darker, and the silence almost unbearable.

Cassandra didn’t plan to pass by the piano room. Her feet just led her wandering steps towards the halfway-opened wooden door. The creaking made goosebumps break out on her skin.

The curtains were closed, and no natural light entered the room. Just a few lamps that flickered every once in a while and a very cold sensation covering her when she stepped inside.

Her legs guided her to the untouched piano. A hand passed over the worn keys, feeling a thin veil of dust under her fingertips.

A shard of guilt stabbed right through her stomach.

She had gotten exactly what she wanted…

Silence.

╰───────────✧──────────────╮

Call it pettiness or whichever useless feeling people came up with, but Cassandra was done with all the noise that she made.

It's always the same song. The same melody. The same lyrics.

She was tired of it.

She stood by the door, staring directly at the young girl who didn’t seem to notice her as she continued to sing that ballad over and over.

“If I can’t reach you, let my song teach you,” the younger girl sang softly, eyes closed as her fingers played smoothly over the keys.

Cassandra clenched her teeth. 

She wanted silence.

“All you need to keep our love alive,”

She was tired of her playing.

“If I can’t hold you,”

She was tired of her.

“Remember what I told y-”

“Could you keep it down?”

The girl startled, smashing the keys and making an awful sound. Both of them cringed at it. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-” She tried to apologize with a stammer as she stood up, stumbling and fidgeting fingers.

But Cassandra didn’t let her finish.

“You don’t know any other songs?” she questioned.

“Not really. My mom only taught me this-”

“Then why play at all?” She didn’t understand. It was useless to know just one song on the piano. A waste of skill and talent, if she were honest. It didn’t make any sense.

The girl took a sharp breath, hands wringing with the hems of her sleeves and fingers. “It’s an important ballad. My mom used to say it was a protec-”

“It’s too loud. Keep it down.”

Cassandra didn’t care about the importance of the song. She just wanted silence. Her ears were ringing, and she could feel a headache coming on if she heard another keynote from the piano.

They stayed quiet for a moment. A slow nod from the younger girl was answer enough for her.

Cassandra turned around and left.

She had blessed silence for the rest of the day.

╰───────────✧──────────────╮

That happened years ago. She still played the song, but kept the door closed and put heavy curtains to muffle some of the noise. It still managed to slip through, but Cassandra didn’t really care as much anymore. It had blended into the background noise of the manor. 

It had become part of their daily life. Something that just fitted right in.

And now that it was gone, the absence of it had been loud.

Such a loud silence.

She didn’t like it.

Cassandra hummed to herself, looking around the room one last time before walking outside into the. Leaving the door open behind her.

Maybe she could ask her if she could play again after she came from school? It wouldn’t be too much to ask of her. It wasn’t like the younger girl had done a lot around the manor lately. Just stay in her room all day and night, only coming out to eat and talk with Alfred, and then just go back to her-

‘If I can’t reach you…’

Cassandra came to a full stop at the end of the hallway.

The piano played slowly inside the room.

‘Let my song teach you…’

Her chest became heavy. Throat tight, as if cold fingers wrapped themselves over her shoulders. A wet sensation was sinking through the fabric of her shirt, making shivers go down her spine.

The voice was like a whisper, only for her to hear.

“Am I too loud now?” Cold lips whispered in Cassandra’s ear.

Out of the corner of her eye, Cassandra only managed to see a tangle of wet, dark hair and a bloodshot grey eye with blood dripping down a side of her deadly pale skin.

When she finally got the strength to turn completely around, the hall was quiet. Not a single echo or resonance of the keys was heard. 

Cassandra patted herself down quickly, shaking away the sudden cold over her skin. She felt over her shoulders, trying to find any wet spots on her shoulder or near her ear and back.

There was no trace of it.

She left the hall quickly, deciding to put this on the back of her mind as a headache invaded her head.

The lights flickered in the piano room, the door creaking closed by itself.

 ━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

“I wasn’t expecting to like history that much.”

It was already past three in the afternoon, the classes had barely been over a few minutes ago.

But Bobby had already dragged her through the halls towards the baseball field so he could practice some pitching and bat swinging. As he had explained excitedly over lunch to her, shortly after Mr. Munroe’s class. It would be just like playing catch, but with some real damage on the side.

She could play catch! She remembered playing it with Billy before!

And with a white haired man.

And by herself, oddly enough…

“I guess Mr. Munroe just knows his stuff,” Bobby suggested, dodging a few students who walked in the opposite direction from them. He then grinned, “You could even say he lived through it with the way he talked about war stories.”

“He can’t be that old.”

“Just saying. I mean, how old could he be?” He quipped with a shrug.

She wheezed a short laugh. “Can’t be older than the Great Depression.”

Both of them were wheezing as they stumbled down the stairs, shoving and hitting each other on the arms and shoulders. That gained them a few odd looks, but they didn’t notice it at all. Too busy fighting to stay upright and keeping air in their lungs.

They made their way through the front doors of the school, taking the outside route but still inside the school grounds to the sports field.

“He has such a stern air around him, too. He kind of gives-”

“Please, don’t even go there.” She pleaded with a hiss. But Bobby only began to whisper loudly to her.

“Hey, everyone was looking at him like a piece of meat.”

“It doesn’t make it right.”

“Oh, please. You totally looked.”

“Did not.” She denied with red ears.

Bobby looked way too smug. “Liaaaarrrr.”

She shoved him, making him burst out laughing as she stomped faster and a couple of steps ahead of him, ready to take a corner.

To which she instantly froze on the spot with a wide-eyed look.

Bobby took notice of her sudden change, still laughing as he looked over her shoulder. “Hey, what’s-”

She quickly pushed him back until they were back to back with the corner wall, away from the view of the hall. Her hand gripping his vest with white knuckles as she looked carefully over the edge. Holding back her breath, cursing to hell and back the person standing by the front gate.

Dick Grayson was leaning against a expensive sports car, looking at his watch every five seconds when he wasn’t looking around the premises and between the groups of students walking around.

‘The fuck is he doing here?!’ She shouted in her head as she bit her tongue.

She had written to Alfred that she was going to stay for a longer time to hang out with Bobby. Why was the touchy asshole here? He was supposed to return to Bludhaven yesterday and give her some peace and tranquility!

“Um, you good?” Bobby muttered, reminding her that she wasn’t alone. She quickly let him go and apologized.

“Sorry,” she grumbled. “It’s my, ugh, brother.”

That last part was said between her teeth. Bobby frowned at that. “I guess you don’t get along, then?”

“Not exactly.” She remarked with a wince, giving a quick glance back towards the gate. He had moved closer.

That wasn’t good.

“We gotta be quick,” she urged, pushing Bobby back slowly as he let her guide him.

Before they could take off without catching too much attention, someone decided it was the right time to yell her ‘last name’.

“Wayne!”

The duo snapped their heads forward, towards the male voice that echoed through the hall. Her eye was twitching in annoyance.

A guy with golden curls and a snobbish air around him approached them with decision and fists curled in fists. He looked furious, and even then she could appreciate his handsome features. 

He looked straight out of a magazine, to be completely honest.

“What the hell are you doing?” He hissed in her face, fuming.

If she weren’t in such a hurry, she would have given him a few choice words. But she really needed to run.

“Office hours are closed at the moment, sorry!” She stated, pulling Bobby deeper into the hall behind them. He looked with wide eyes between the three of them.

“Suddenly got a sense of humor?” The guy chided with a roll of eyes, following her steps forward. “Where have you been?! Did you forget about practice?! We have the damned recital in two weeks!”

“Listen,” she fretted, eyes bouncing around to make sure Dick wasn’t nearby. “Right now is not the time to discuss this. I gotta-”

“No, you and I made a deal.” He claimed with a hiss. “I help you with your recital and you-”

“Hun, what is going on here?”

The cold tone made the three teens look at the tight-smiling man who stood beside them. His arms crossed over his chest with his head tilted to the side, blue eyes staring directly at their hands.

Now that she noticed, the two boys had taken hold of her arms while standing between them.

It stayed quiet for a bit. Dick smile becoming tighter and tighter.

‘Fuuuuucckkk-’

“Who are your-”

She didn’t even let him finish. Her legs moved before she could even process it.

It all happened too fast.

She had taken off running, dragging with her the still startled boys down the hall and leaving Dick behind with the words in his mouth. The man also looked caught off guard, yelling after them as he began to run after them.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck fuck-” she repeated over and over while Bobby and Goldielocks shouted at her.

“Unhand me! You’re ruining my shirt!”

“Take a left! Take a left!”

Without thinking about it too hard, she listened to Bobby and took a sharp left. Shoes squeaking as the three of them almost slammed against a poster board, before taking off again. 

They took several turns, with mixed shouts and yells between all of them. Mostly with Bobby yelling directions and the other guy screaming in her ear about going too fast.

It all came to an end when all three of them ran over someone.

Well, more like they slammed solidly against someone and crashed to the ground.

They became a tangle of limbs and curses. Bobby was face-first on the ground, complaining about the heavy weight, trying to lift them off the ground but too tired to do so. The goldilocks was cursing while swinging his arms and legs around, flailing like a stray cat. And lastly, the young girl who lay over the two of them with a manic grin on her face and laughing to herself.

‘That felt soooo good!” She gushed as she laughed breathlessly. 

It felt so right. Running like that felt so right. She had to do it again! Her heart was about to burst out in excitme-

A gruff grunt made all of them fall into silence. Three heads looking up with a gaping expression.

Mr. Munroe stood before them with a crushed cigar by his feet. An annoyed frown in his face that made them gulp at the same time.

“Drake. Worthington. Wayne.” The teens looked at each other with pale faces.

“Detention. Now.”

…That could have ended worse, to be honest.

 ━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

Author's Note: The gangs all here! Finally got to introduce Maximoff's core friends! And so much happened in this chapter too! I had so much fun writting it, you guys have no idea. And logan is now in the plot ( I will shove my Storm x Wolverine agenda down your throats and YOU WILL LIKE IT-) Let me know what you guys liked, theorize or go and scream in the asks. I love reciving asks and answering them💖💖 Lots of love and hugs, GG✨

Tag List:

@bat1212 @kneelforloki @1abi @galaxypurplerose @yhin-gg @cxcilla @momentomoribitch @stargirl404 @initial-ari @welpthisisboring @icefox8155 @bunniotomia @alittlelostmoonchild @devotedlyshamelessdetective @shycreatorreview @nirvanaxx1942 @soulsire @ryuushou @rinkydinkythinky @lithiumval @ithoughtthinks @reeyy0-2 @cssammyyarts @lordbugs @ilovecoffe0 @kore-of-the-underworld @fortunatelydifferentqueen @vanessa-boo @livingund3ad @aelxr @im-so-goddamn-tired @lovebug-apple

Bonus Memes:

[angelyuji]

yandere step dad Logan/Wolverine who becomes obssessed with his nerdy/geeky step daughter?

he's kinda creepy, always staring at you like he wants to eat you right there right now. always making comments about hte size difference between you two, how he would easily could pin you into the wall or whatever surface you could ever think of and you could not escape him. the way an older man (aka him) would make you feel the pleasure any guy your age could ever give to you

ohhhynmuuofoddd you’re cooking babe omg.

tw // stepcest, sadism, asshole stepdad

minors dni!!!!

logan constantly makes fun of you for being nerdy and how you’re never going to get into a relationship.

constantly pointing out how much smaller and weaker you are. when ur parent isnt around, logan pushes you around or pressing you against the wall to trap you and show you how strong logan is

logan the type to smoke indoors and blow the smoke into your face, and laugh when you get mad.

he’ll always come into the bathroom when you’re taking a shower “accidentally” and then act all surprised just to stay in there to finish whatever hes doing instead of leaving.

everything he does is a power play to weaken you. to show you that you can’t fight your step dad, so just go along with everything.

he most defff takes advantage of you when you're drunk, saying shit like "no dumbass college kid can make you feel this good" and telling you to call him daddy. hes freaky as hell.

he just loves to torment you, logans a sadistic asshole, but he also loves that you fight back.

need him baaaaad

[yandere-wishes]

♡ Domestic HC w/ Yandere!Deadpool & Yandere! Wolverine

♡ These are SO random but I just wanted to jot them down

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

♡ Imagine Yandere Deadpool AND Yandere Wolverine falling in love with you. Imagine Logan sulking and admiring you from afar, too engrossed in his self-loathing to ever even approach you.

♡ Imagine Wade noticing...noticing how Logan looks at you, all brusque adoration and longing eyes. Noticing your doe-eyes and soft smile. Cute little thing, precious and venerable. You'd be so much safer with them, tucked away where the bad things/people can't reach you.

♡ Imagine Wade kidnapping you in the dead of the night. Red shadow ripping you out of your tranquil life. Holding you tightly as he runs across the skyline.

♡ Imagine Logan's surprise when he finds you on the couch. Scared and puffy-eyed, mumbling about the anti-hero who took you. "SURPRISE, PEANUT!!" And oh boy is he surprised. He's supposed to be angry, to lash out and slash through the loudmouth's flesh like confetti. But poor Logan can't help but kneel down next to you and capture your lips with his

♡ Imagine Wade Wilson getting you, a stuffed Deadpool and Wolverine plushes. Him saying that you'll have someone to keep you company when he and Logan are out on missions. You may hate your captures but you have to admit these tiny little guys aren't so bad. They're a melancholy reminder of the people's adoration for the superheroes. Of innocent idolization and blissful ignorance. You can't help but give them both a little kiss...

♡ Imagine Logan Howlett being grumpy because you're paying more attention to a literal toy, than him. Honestly, why do you even need a mini version of him when he's right there? And he doubts that little guy can delight you the way he can.

♡ Imagine waking up between Wade and Logan. They're still in their suits having just got home from a mission. Subconsciously you intertwine your legs with Logan as Wade cuddles you from behind. Soft kisses and sweet nothings from Wade as Logan bites the length of your neck to your shoulder. They're so scary, so selfish...but you can't help feeling safe and cherished between them.

♡ Imagine wearing their half hearts. Wade's around your wrist and Logan's around your neck. Logan loves tugging on the necklace, pulling on his lap as he forces his tongue past your sweet puffy lips. Wade prefers the way the pendant hangs by your pulse point. An extension of you, and an extension of him. He likes to joke that you literally hold his heart in your hands. Before biting your wrist, feeling your heartbeat in his mouth, and running his tongue along the blood drops.

[yanderes-galore]

Marvel Rivals Wolverine romantic concept or alphabet?

Fun fact, dude is an excellent tracker.

Yandere Alphabet - MR! Wolverine

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Possessive/Protective behavior, Violence, Blood, Biting, Murder, Stalking, Tracking, Obsession over smells, Kidnapping, Isolation, Delusional behavior, Trauma, Forced/Dubious relationship.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

I feel all versions of Logan are like this... but he's very animalistic? He's intense when it comes to love and his Mutant abilities feed into it. He's about as feral as a wild animal at times.

But underneath all the intimidating rage... Logan's soft, even in this universe. After all, in Rivals he's been tracking humans and Mutants to keep them safe from all the timeline issues.

In terms of ways Logan would show affection...? Despite his brooding behavior and temper, he views affection with you to be pleasant if not relieving.

Even if you fight him.

As OOC as thus probably is, Logan seems like he does enjoy holding you close and nuzzling into you. He has a thing for scents as a tracker and yours always seems to soothe him. He just likes how your warmth feels in his grasp...

He may also enjoy biting.

He gives you playful nips and bites. It's a way to mark you to soothe his feral side but it's also just to see your reaction. Who knows, maybe he's into scenting too?

I just view Logan like a small feral animal when it comes to affection, curling up against you with a grumble as he cuddles you.

He may also find you gifts you like or flirt with you... But he's definitely a physical affection person with just you since you soothe him.

Normally he's a VERY scary yandere towards others, but you? A sweet tame beast.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Well, when it comes to Logan... His past is rather bloody. He's been used as a living weapon and while he's mostly grown past that... It often comes up in his life.

If you were ever in danger and Logan was ever pushed too far... His rage might make him black out and wake up bloody. He's used to blood.

Even just regular fights can end bloody, just not lethal. He genuinely does try to keep fights or arguments with others over you non-lethal...

But there's times they do still end up bloody.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

I don't think Logan would mock you if he kidnapped you. He probably didn't even want to kidnap you. He knows all too well what it's like to not have any control and be isolated.

Except he isn't experimenting on you in this.

He'd want to treat you well to make up for whatever reason he had to take you into his protection. Could be to keep you safe... Could also be because he can't control his jealous behavior and needs to drown it out in you for a bit.

He reassures his sweetheart that he'll let them go eventually... He's just... going through it right now. He'd probably find some way to manipulate you into seeing this as a good thing.

Do you belong on Krakoa? Maybe not... but he promises it's temporary until this Timeline Entanglement is fixed. So... you can trust him to take good care of you, yeah?

He makes sure no one questions you and is incredibly protective. Most may even mention to Logan that he's being possessive. He brushes it off.

Doesn't matter what he is in his mind... What matters is soothing his inner beast, and to him that means stashing you away like an animal in a den.

He'll make sure you're cared for... I also suggest preparing for sudden affection once he gets back from rescue missions.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

He tries not to. He likes control but he also wants you to feel some control too. He remembers enough from the X-Program to watch himself.

He may be stern at times but... he does love you.

Like many he's just trying to do the right thing.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

I doubt Logan is a very vulnerable person due to what he's been through. You mean a lot to him but he doesn't need you or anyone else trying to exploit you. Only in a select few moments is he vulnerable.

For example, when he decides to curl up against you for attention after a long mission, that's one of the only times he's vulnerable. He's not intimidating then... you may even say he looks normal.

Well... normal for a short hairy man curled against your chest.

In these moments he'll even say he loves you while growling softly against you...

Like he isn't someone capable of murder... or like he didn't drag you away from the one place you called home for your safety.

Is it really your safety... or is it just because of his uncontrollable desires?

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Irritated. Logan has a temper on him, so while he understands why you don't like his methods... He won't have you fight him on it.

Usually if you fight back it ends up in an argument... soon followed by Logan muttering apologies when his claws almost pop out to cut you.

He's just been... stressed lately. He doesn't mean to hurt you. He just... wishes you'd know why he does this. Except... even he doubts the lies he tells you.

Safety... Not even Krakoa is entirely safe due to Ultron... Maybe he just likes the isolation... just you and him.

Yet if you ever run, you won't ever get far. Logan is an excellent tracker due to his abilities. Sure, try to yell at him and run...

He'll sniff you out like a dog...

Only to full force lunge at you to tackle you to the ground, claws piercing the ground beside your head to keep him on top of you.

"We weren't done, sweetheart... You can either come back with me willingly or I drag you... Your choice."

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Not a game and he doesn't like watching you escape. He actually has to take a moment to soothe himself before tracking after you.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Maybe anything Berserker Rage related?

Even when you're isolated and kept in a room for just him to take care of, he isn't really that bad. It's when his rage hits that he's a threat.

Like the wolverine animal, if Logan is in such a rage, he isn't going to stop until his target is dead.

So if you walked in on Logan dripping in blood, standing over someone you probably knew or were aware of... I'd say that's the worst thing.

Logan may never hurt you, his sweetheart whom he'd give anything to... but those around you may fall by his claws if they think of taking you from him.

Who are they to say what he's doing isn't right?

They clearly don't love you like he does. He's tasked with protecting those affected by this calamity, right? They can just stay away, then....

He'll do what HE feels is right for his beloved darling....

Granted, his fits of rage be them lethal or not... scares the crap out of you.

Which often leads to you defying Logan more due to sensing something wrong with his psyche.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Logan has had some lovers in his past... but it's been a bit complicated. Currently his only thoughts for the future is how to keep others safe while this timeline issue progresses.

In terms of what he wants between you two... He just wants you his. He does care if he has to put on his white suit with a ring to do it. He's been listening to his feral side a lot more lately...

In the end he just plans to keep you as his, past, present, and future.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

YES. I feel Logan is one of the more jealous heroes. His possessive behavior is from his Mutant abilities. Which, in this case, makes him a short hairy animal who's just going to cling to the one he adores to make sure you're his.

He really is just a beast as a yandere.

He may try to cope for the sake of his temper, but you can practically hear him growling around you when others are too close.

There's times I can see Logan snapping when he's worked up over jealousy though. He mumbles a gruff 'Sorry...' but it's hard for him to control.

He isn't sure what's gotten into him... Is it really just his nerves?

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Possessive, territorial, stern, aggressive, clingy, feral, easily jealous, violent... yet towards you he tries to be affectionate and caring, like you're his soft spot.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Logan probably found you while on a rescue mission. You could be a mutant or a human... Either way, you both are from the same universe, you are just... displaced.

Which is fine in his mind, it's been happening to a lot of folk lately.

I feel a lot of what I said previously would make sense if there was an established relationship between you two. So maybe you two were lovers currently or were in the past?

If not, then such a thing develops once Logan takes you to Krakoa to keep you safe. You're close to him and others probably won't fight Logan on this. The claws aren't fun to deal with.

From there his behavior begins as protection behavior. He's pleased to see you or at least finds your company to be pleasant. Then from there... As Logan is forced to deal with threat after threat...

His need for you increases to new heights... Driven by beastly instincts and stressful fears.

While having him clingy or affectionate is nice at first no matter how you know him as long as it's positive...

It gets concerning fast once he begins to give into these savage desires... He'll need you to remind him of who he is...

If that will even help.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

He's softer and more possessive towards you... I'd say that's different enough, yeah.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

He definitely doesn't want to do physical punishment. Last thing he needs is accidental laceration or breaking of bones due to him being irate. Instead... Well, it's difficult for him.

He'll most likely tie you up and scold you. Anything else reminds him of how he was treated as a weapon. He doesn't like to give you restraints... but he's much nicer than any scientist.

He won't hurt you, he'll just... remind you that what he's doing is out of...

Why is he even doing this again...?

This isn't love, is it...?

It's too primal for that... regardless...

Tying you up should be enough of a lesson... You obviously won't listen to him no matter his explanation by this point.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Again, this treads into his time being a living weapon... A time he dislikes.

He tries not to take too much until you try to leave him... Then he'll lock things down.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

I'd say moderate patience. He has a temper but I feel he's learned to control it for the most part. He'll be patient with you as long as you haven't done anything to irritate him.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

He'd have a hard time parting from you. He'd probably even blame himself. He was in charge of you in his mind...

He either scared you off or got you killed.

He'd have trouble coping, definitely. But... I feel horrible for any alternate version of you he encounters while grieving.

The problem would be passed to them... but even worse.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Yes he'd feel guilty and promises to let you go after the timeline is fixed. But who knows when that will happen or if he'll even convince himself and his instincts to let you go?

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

I'm going to assume a combination of the stressful situation and the instincts given to him through his Mutant awakening.

Sure, he's a bit possessive when it comes to lovers occasionally due to instincts, but he's never been this bad.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

He's soft deep under his intimidating exterior but he'd probably give you space first, maybe send someone he trusts in to check on you like Storm...

Then he'll come back afterwards to settle beside you, pulling you close to him in an awkward attempt at a cuddle.

He's sorry he's doing this at times... He's at least somewhat aware that what he's doing isn't right...

Yet he doesn't stop doing it.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Most of his behavior is caused by out of control fears and primal instincts. If you can soothe him before he gives into his rage... You may be able to keep him in control enough to get him to let you go or pursue a normal relationship.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

If you reassured him or tried to soothe his possessive instincts... He may be able to keep himself in control enough to let you go.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Definitely not on purpose... He'd likely hurt you on accident.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Not a worship yandere but he'd spill blood and do pretty much anything, no matter how dark, to soothe his instincts and make you his.

That's "supposedly" safer for the both of you.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

He could probably pine for a while, but when it comes to the current situation...? It all happens rather quickly due to his dwindling psyche.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Not intentionally. In fact, that would break him more.