#elektra x y/n

[chvoswxtch]

all i need is you

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader

summary: following the morning after matt's run in with elektra, you have a lot of decisions to make about your future together.

warnings: swearing, angst, explicit sexual content (minors pls dni), mentions of pregnancy

word count: 8.2k

a/n: y'all have been requesting a sequel to please don't be mad for almost 6 months now, & I apologize it's coming so late. there were a lot of things y'all wanted to see happen in the sequel, & I took all of that feedback to heart & incorporated as much as I could in a way that made sense to me. i've been working on this for months, & it was really important to me to create something you guys would really love & be happy with. thank you to everyone that even wanted a sequel, & for being so patient. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

[part one]

It was almost crazy to think that just over a year ago, you thought your relationship with Matt Murdock was over for good. 

When you had awoken that following morning by his side, head clear of the rage and lust induced haze you had been captured in, all that was lingering was a heart heavy with hurt and stinging with betrayal. You had silently collected all of your belongings, pressed one last kiss to Matt’s lips, and granted his peaceful sleeping form one final glance before leaving your spare key on his entry table and disappearing into the twilight. 

All of his words still echoed in the back of your mind, but so did his actions. The promise of marriage was eclipsed by the cherry lip stain on his collar. The prospect of a family was diluted by the scent of an expensive perfume that didn’t belong to you. The vow of faith and love was broken by yet another lie. 

You loved Matt, more than you had ever loved anyone, and more than you ever thought you could love another person. You knew deep down that he was a good man. You tried to believe that he would never intentionally hurt you. But it had gotten to the point where you couldn’t ignore the ache he left in your chest. 

You needed time to try to forgive him. You weren’t even sure if you could forgive him at all. The cut he’d made ran deep, and you couldn’t decide if it was because he’d made it with her blade, or if it was simply his own that had been slicing away at the same spot over and over and over. Regardless, you needed time. Time away from him; to heal, to think, to decide. 

But Matt Murdock had never been a man of patience.

For two endless weeks your phone constantly lit up with his name, filling up with messages containing apologies and desperate pleas. You started arriving early to work and left later than usual to throw him off your schedule. You had the receptionist bypass all his calls and made security aware that he was not welcome in your office. You ignored all the usual spots that he knew you frequented, and especially the ones you went to together. For the first time in over a year, you locked all your windows to ensure he couldn’t slip through in the middle of the night. You blasted music through your headphones so you didn’t have to hear the pain in his voice as he called out your name, fist banging away at your front door so hard you were certain he was going to actually break it down. 

It was torture. Even though he had been the one to wrong you, a piece of you felt guilty. You could hear the terror and remorse in his voice when he stood outside your door, begging for forgiveness, chanting your name over and over as if you were the deity he worshiped and needed absolution from. It left a bitter taste in your mouth to be yet another person to turn your back on him, but through the wave of your sadness came the tide of anger, reminding you that he had done this. He had forced your hand. He made a choice, and you had to make yours. 

The guilt from also having to ignore Karen and Foggy weighed heavily on your chest. They knew what had happened. You had just as many sympathetic voicemails and unanswered texts from them asking if you were okay, and if you wanted to talk. You hated not being able to lean on them when you were at your most vulnerable. They were your family just as much as Matt was, but you couldn’t talk to them or be around them. They just reminded you of him. A huge part of you resented him for that, for making you feel like you couldn’t go to the two other people you loved most in this world for comfort because of what he did. You had spent the past few years building your entire life around Matt, and he had selfishly sent it crashing to the ground, leaving you completely isolated beneath the debris.

For two long weeks, you felt trapped beneath a heavy blanket of depression you couldn’t seem to find your way out from. 

And then she happened. 

How Elektra had managed to break into your apartment when Matt couldn’t, you weren’t sure, but the day you came home to find her in your living room with a bag of your things packed by her feet, you were stunned silent.

“I need you to come with me.”

“What? Why?”

“Because Matthew is an idiot and he’s put you in danger. We need to go. Now.”

She didn’t even give you a chance to hesitate, gripping your overnight bag into one hand, and forcing you out your door with the other. The ding of the elevator dropping you to the lobby seemed to wake you out of whatever trance she had put you in, and you stared at her in confusion as you stood firmly outside the metal doors.

“I don’t understand. What are you doing here? Where are we going?”

“I’ll explain when we get there. We need to move.”

“I don’t-“

“Listen. You don’t know me. You’ve got no reason to trust me. But right now, I am trying to save your life. So if you’ll please-“

“Why?”

Elektra paused for a moment as she looked at you. The annoyance on her perfect features vanished slowly, taking in the pain and confusion that were clearly plastered on yours. 

“Because you’re important to Matthew, which means you’re important to me.”

Elektra filled you in on everything the moment she had secured you away in a penthouse uptown that was registered under an alias. What she and Matt thought were the Yakuza had ended up being a much older and sinister organization called The Hand. They were into some freaky cult shit that you didn’t quite understand, but you got the gist that they were powerful, and extremely dangerous. They were also everywhere. They had tracked her and Matt, and a man named Stick that had trained the two of them, back to Matt’s apartment the night after the gala. They had been tracking him ever since, and because he had continuously been going to your office and apartment, they knew all about you. 

She even told you the truth about how she had met Matt, and how it had all been a set up by Stick to bring him back to their side; to fight the war that he had been warning them both about. 

“I don’t know what Matthew has told you about me. Probably nothing good. But I need you to know…I did love him. That’s why I left. I realized…he wasn’t like us. He would never be like us. He was too…good. He didn’t belong with Stick and I. I didn’t want to be the one to put that light out inside of him. I didn’t want anyone to. I didn’t mean to cause any trouble between the two of you the night of the gala. I wasn’t aware that he hadn’t told you that I was in town, or what we were doing. I swear I was only trying to protect him.”

There was a glimmer of regret dancing along Elektra’s waterline, and you could see her own pain shadowing the faint smile on her lips. 

“You weren’t the one that lied to me.”

Elektra blew out a breath as she took a seat in front of you, dragging her teeth along her bottom lip as she nodded.

“Matthew always has pure intentions. I know that. But for someone who is incredibly intelligent, he’s also a complete dumbass. He tries so hard to do the right thing…but he doesn’t stop to think about if he’s doing it the right way. Look I don’t…I don’t know anything about the two of you, and I’m not telling you what to do, but I can tell you that he is absolutely in love with you.”

“So…you didn’t come back to New York for him?”

“For his help, yes. To rekindle whatever we had, no. But for the record, even if I had, I wouldn’t have stood a chance in Heaven or Hell against you.”

There was something oddly comforting about Elektra’s words and the timid smile on her lips. It eased some of the tension pent up in your body, and you felt a little lighter as you let a deep exhale out through your parted lips. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you glanced over at her as you anxiously twisted a ring around your index finger.

“I…thank you. You…you didn’t have to…do all of this. I hate to even ask anything of you when you’re already doing so much for me but…can you just…not tell Matt I’m here? I’m not ready to talk to him yet.”

Elektra flashed you a pitiful smile as she gave a slight nod of her head.

“Of course. It’ll be our little secret.”

It only took Matt three days to figure out that Elektra had been hiding you, and as he burst through the front door of her penthouse, he was absolutely incandescent. 

“You have got to be fucking kidding me. You’ll have a sleepover with her, but you won’t talk to me?”

“Watch your tone, Matthew.”

Elektra glared over at Matt, tightening her grip on the knife in her hand that was hovering over a cutting board filled with various ingredients. 

Matt furiously tore off his glasses as he angrily pointed his finger in her direction, the top of his lip curling up into a menacing snarl.

“I don’t want to hear shit from you after you-“

“I protected her because you led the Hand right to her. You’re fucking welcome by the way.”

Elektra let out a deep angry exhale as she turned to face you with a sour pout on her lips. She gestured her head in Matt’s direction with a quirk of her brow.

“I can get rid of him if you’d like.”

“Excuse me?”

“I wasn’t speaking to you, Matthew.”

Sighing heavily as you let go of the whisk in your hand, you pushed the large bowl of batter forward on the kitchen island and wiped your hands off on a small towel. Rubbing your hands over your tired eyes, you waved your hand dismissively towards Elektra.

“It’s…it’s fine, Ellie. I’ll deal with him.”

Elektra eyed you for a moment before shooting another glare in Matt’s direction. She dropped the knife onto the cutting board, wiping her hands off on the same towel before clasping them together loudly.

“Right, well, I’ll leave the knife out just in case. Remember the three main areas I taught you to stab. I’ll be upstairs if you need me.”

After you watched Elektra disappear upstairs into her bedroom, you turned around to face Matt. His eyes were absolutely wild with rage and his face was morphed into complete disbelief as he blanched at you.

“Ellie? Since when the hell is she Ellie?”

“Since she’s the only one around here that tells me the truth about what the fuck is going on.”

Matt clenched his fists at his sides as he stared blankly over at you, and you watched as a muscle feathered in his jaw. 

“What did she tell you?”

“Everything you didn’t.”

You could practically feel the anger radiating off of him in waves, but you had more of a right to be pissed off than he did. Matt shoved his hand into his pocket, producing a shiny silver object that he held out in front of him between his thumb and index finger.

“What is this?”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you arched one of your brows as you looked at him.

“A key.”

Your key. 

Matt’s nostrils flared as he clenched his jaw, quickly crossing the distance between you to stand directly in front of you.

“Don’t get smart with me. Do you have any idea how it felt to wake up that next morning and you were gone? All of you, your things, everything gone? And to find this on the table? Not even-“

“I’d imagine it was as shitty as you coming home covered in red lipstick and smelling like your ex lover's perfume. Or as shitty as finding out you lied about where you were and who you were with, and that you kissed her and lied about that too.”

Matt ran his hand through his hair quickly in annoyance before dragging it roughly down his jaw, shaking his head as he flung his arms up in the air with frustration.

“Goddamnit Y/N, we talked about that! We worked through it. Then you just…disappeared and ignored me for weeks. You won’t return any of my calls, you won’t open the door, I can’t even-“

“We didn’t talk about anything, Matt! You kept trying to justify your actions and completely ignored how I was feeling. We didn’t work through anything. You manipulated me and we fucked. That is not working through it.”

Matt sighed with exasperation as he stared at you incredulously. 

“I did not manipulate you. Fuck, I told you that I wanted to marry you and have a family witn you-“

“In the middle of sex, Matthew! I don’t know if you even meant that, or if it was a heat of the moment thing. And don’t you dare say you didn’t manipulate me. You took advantage of the fact that I was frustrated and that you hadn’t touched me in weeks. You knew I would give into you. How do you think that makes me feel? That you completely ignored my feelings, manipulated me into sex for forgiveness, and filled my head with all those promises knowing that our relationship was in a bad spot. I can’t trust a word that you say because you can’t seem to stop lying to me.”

Matt’s anger evaporated the second he tasted the salt of your tears in the air. He hung his head between his shoulders in shame, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as the severity of your words nestled in the silence. Letting out a soft sigh, Matt’s tongue darted out to quickly wet his lips.

“You’re right.”

His hazel eyes were more clear without the cloud of vexation, and you could see the way they glistened with regret. Matt’s plump lips fell into a frown, and guilt seemed to tug the rest of his features down like gravity.

“I’m sorry. I swore to you that I wouldn’t lie after I told you the truth about me. I broke my promise to you, I betrayed your trust, and I disrespected our relationship. I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I never, ever meant to hurt you. I didn’t want you to get mad that I was working with Elektra. I didn’t think…I wasn’t thinking. I wasn’t considering your feelings. I shouldn’t have kissed her. I could’ve come up with another diversion. All of this could’ve been avoided if…if I had just told you the truth.”

Matt let out a shaky breath as his blank eyes glanced upwards, closing for a moment as he clenched his fists by his sides. A stray tear slipped past his lashes when he opened his eyes again, slowly lowering himself onto his knees before you as he reached for one of your hands to hold.

“I have been…absolutely fucking miserable these past few weeks, and that’s my own fault. I know that. I have hated not getting to feel your touch, or hear your voice, or be able to tell you how much I love you. I am so fucking sorry if I ever made you question how I feel about you, but Y/N I meant every word that night. You are the love of my life. You do belong with me. I do want to marry you and start a family. I swear to God, I will do whatever it takes to earn your trust back and your forgiveness. Just tell me what I have to do sweetheart, and I’ll do it.”

It broke your heart to see Matt look so distraught. It stung even more than he was on his knees begging for forgiveness instead of asking you to spend the rest of your lives together, but there was an undeniable conviction in his voice. It soothed the pang in your chest slightly to finally hear him acknowledge his fuck up, and apologize for it instead of getting defensive. Elektra had melted away the insecurity you had felt with her confession, and the frightened look that shattered Matt’s face showed you just how scared he was to lose you.

There was still a lot of work to be done on your relationship. It wasn’t going to be fixed overnight, and Matt was going to have to put in a lot of effort to earn your trust back, and prove to you just how much your relationship mattered to him. But you were in love with him, and you knew there was no one else for you but him.

“You can start by taking care of this…”Hand” shit. I’m not loving the fact that I’m being hunted by zombie ninjas because of my idiot boyfriend.”

Matt’s ears instantly perked up, and a lopsided hopeful grin stretched across his lips.

“I’m still your boyfriend?”

“For now. You’re dangerously close to being replaced by Elektra, though. She’s always bluntly honest, and her bed is way nicer.”

You never in a million years thought that your boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend would fight just as hard as he would to keep you safe, but Elektra had. She protected you from The Hand just as fiercely as Matt did, nearly giving her life for you both, and now she was securing the last button on the back of your wedding dress and staring at you in the mirror with a knowing smirk. 

The morning you slipped out of Matt’s apartment heartbroken and desolate seemed like a lifetime ago as you prepared yourself to meet him at the altar in just under an hour. 

“What’s on your mind, little dove? Got cold feet?”

Elektra quirked one of her dark brows as she stared at your reflection with her signature smirk. Karen had left the two of you alone to go check on Matt and Foggy, and she was helping you with your finishing touches. 

After helping save New York, Elektra had stuck around, and to both of your surprises, and certainly to Matt’s, you two had become very close. The more you got to know the more vulnerable side of her, the more you felt for her. She wasn’t the villain that everyone had painted her out to be. She had been a scared little girl, manipulated with a promise of something resembling a family, only to be broken down and molded into something to orchestrate death and destruction instead. It wasn’t unlike what Stick had done to Matt. As a matter of fact, it was worse. 

“If I said yes?”

Elektra hummed quietly as she moved your hair off your shoulder, leaning in to rest her chin on it as she wrapped you up in a hug from behind with a grin on her lips. 

“Ever been to Paris this time of year? It’s beautiful. We could be at a private air strip before anyone even knew what happened. Matthew is fast, but he can’t outrun a Maserati.”

A grin broke out across your lips as you giggled, squeezing onto Elektra’s arms when she winked. You had never been more sure of anything in your life than you were sure that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with Matt Murdock. Both of you knew that. But you also both knew he was eavesdropping just on the other side of the church, and it was incredibly easy to rile him up.

As if on cue, Foggy suddenly burst through the door and pointed a finger at Elektra with an expression of pure irritation on his face. 

“Whatever you’re telling her, knock it off. You’re scaring the shit out of him, and he’s already convinced enough as it is that she's not gonna walk down that aisle.”

“Oh relax, Franklin. Girls got to have their fun, yeah? Besides, I thought they called him the man without fear.” 

Foggy rolled his eyes as he shut the door behind him, walking over to shoo Elektra away as he stood behind you and adjusted your veil down your back.

“Yeah, until it comes to her. Go head to head with the Punisher who's notorious for using automatic weapons with sticks? Sure. Take on a weird cult of ninjas that can’t die and like to use really sharp swords also only with sticks? Why not. Fuck it, let’s use every goddamn tall building in Hell’s Kitchen for parkour practice. But ask the woman I’m ridiculously in love with to marry me and put up with my shit for the rest of our lives? That’s where the devil seems to tuck his tail between his legs.”

Matt had been an absolute nervous wreck the night he proposed to you. He had brought you to the same restaurant that he had taken you to for dinner on your first date, and was fidgety the whole time. Every time you asked if he was okay, he swore up and down that he was, and you figured there was just something overwhelming one or several of his senses. But then you noticed that despite it being mid November, he was sweating as you walked hand in hand through Central Park, and his hand kept nearly slipping from yours. Finally, you stopped and turned to face him, placing your hand on his chest to steady him.

“Okay, what’s going on with you?”

“N-Nothing, I’m fine. Let’s keep-”

“No, you aren’t. You’ve been acting strange all night. You’ve been anxious and fidgety, and now you’re sweating.”

“It’s hot-”

“It’s November, Matthew.”

Matt’s lips parted slightly as he went to protest, but nothing came out. He was usually good at coming up with excuses on the spot, but whatever was going on with him had seemed to completely take over his mind. A soft sigh slipped past your lips as he averted his gaze to the ground, watching as he clenched his fist by his side. You took a step forward to place your hands gently on his cheeks to cradle his face.

“Matty, please talk to me. Is something wrong?”

“No, no nothing…nothing is wrong.”

“Then what is going on? What’s got you so worked up?”

“I’m not worked up-”

“Matthew.”

Matt let out a sigh of defeat hearing the tone in your voice, his tongue darting out to quickly wet his lips as he attempted to flash you a reassuring smile.

“Can we just keep walking please? There’s something I wanna show you.”

There was evident excitement in Matt’s voice, but it didn’t resonate with you. The way he kept dodging your questions was beginning to put you in a sour mood, conjuring up a bitter taste of realization that he was on the cusp of breaking an oath he had sworn to keep. Dropping your hands quickly from his face, you shook your head in frustration as you turned around swiftly to walk ahead without him.

“You promised me you wouldn’t do this anymore.”

You only made it two steps forward before Matt blurted out a confession laced with full blown panic.

“I’m in love with you.”

Immediately pausing, you turned around to look at him in complete confusion.

“I know that, Matt.”

Matt let out a heavy exhale as he rushed forward and took your hand into his, scrunching up his nose as he shook his head quickly.

“No, I…I mean…that I’m…fuck, this isn’t going right.”

Matt pinched the bridge of his nose as his lips pursed into a frown, and you eyed him curiously as you gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

“What isn’t going right? What are you talking about?”

“Will you just…come with me? Please? I really need to show you something.”

Matt’s face was twisted in what looked like agony, and the desperation in his voice made you nervous. You didn’t think you had ever seen him look so…terrified, not even that night at Elektra’s when he thought you were going to leave him for good. You allowed Matt to guide you further through the park, venturing off down a path only he seemed to know, and stopping once you reached a gate that was covered in ivy. He pulled a key from his pocket to unlock it, and pushed it open with a slight creak, gesturing for you to enter first with a timid smile.

A shocked gasp flew past your lips as you stepped inside. It was an isolated garden, completely closed in by ivy covered walls, lit up only with various strings of white twinkle lights and the glow of the moon. To your delight, there were several plants and flowers in full bloom, and the whole scene looked like a vibrant painting you would hang on your wall. 

“I hear this place is beautiful.”

Turning around to face Matt, you noticed that he had taken off his glasses, and was apprehensively turning them over in his hands over and over. The timid smile was still plastered on his lips, but his eyes were nearly blown open with distress.

“I…it’s…I don’t even know how to describe it. How…how did you find this?”

“Karen did. It’s technically private property owned by the city, but Brett owed me a favor.”

The puzzlement on your face only grew as you stared at Matt, a soft laugh leaving your lips as you gestured around.

“Is this why you’ve been acting so weird? You didn’t think I’d like the surprise?”

Matt’s eyes darted back and forth blankly as he dragged his teeth along his bottom lip, swallowing thickly as he placed his glasses into his jacket pocket and took a few cautious steps forward.

“I…I hoped that you’d like it.”

“Matty, I love it. It’s so beautiful. But you didn’t have to be so nervous to show me this. You could’ve taken me to a random alley and I still would’ve loved it.”

Matt let out a breathless laugh as he shook his head, clicking his tongue against the inside of his cheek as he smiled softly.

“Then it wouldn’t have been special.”

A furrow formed between your brows as you looked at him, trying to decipher all the cryptic pieces he was laying in front of you.

“What wouldn’t have?”

Matt was silent for a moment as he fixed his gaze on your face, tilting his head to the side ever so slightly as he studied you. Finally letting out a deep breath, he reached out to take one of your hands, brushing his thumb delicately over your knuckles as a slow smile spread over his lips.

“I told you, I’m in love with you.”

“And I’m in love with you, Matty.”

Matt took a step closer as he brought his other hand up to cradle your face, a tender smile on his lips as he rubbed his thumb soothingly over your cheek. You couldn’t tell if it was the reflection of the lights in his eyes, but they looked glossy, almost as if he was about to cry, and it made you squeeze onto his hand tighter.

“You…are the first person that has ever truly understood me. The first that’s ever accepted and loved both sides of me. You’ve never shied away from one, or favored the other, or asked me to choose. You haven’t given up on me, even when I’ve given you plenty of reasons to. You are the best part of my day. I can’t tell you how…how happy it makes me to know that when I come home at night, you’re there waiting for me. And no matter what kind of day I’ve had, or how rough of a night it was, it…it doesn’t matter, because you’re there. You give me a reason to make it home. I can’t tell you how much I love that I get to fall asleep holding you and listening to your heartbeat, and start every day hearing your voice and kissing your lips. I have never felt as…happy…and light as I do with you. I want to spend the rest of my life feeling this way. I want to spend the rest of my life ending every night with you and starting every morning with you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. So-”

Matt let out a shaky breath as he slowly dropped his hand from your face and tightly held onto your hand. You were already in tears from Matt’s words before, but the moment he dropped down onto one knee before you, the floodgates opened and a choked sob caught in your throat as your other hand flew up to cover your mouth.

“Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?”

“Oh my God, Matty…yes…yes!”

Matt blew out a shaky breath of relief as he closed his eyes for a moment, the tension in his shoulders evaporating right in front of your eyes as he let his head drop. You couldn’t help but laugh as you stared down at him in perplexity.

“Did you think I was going to say no?”

Matt rubbed his hand down his face to wipe away his own tears, letting out another breathless laugh and sniffling as he looked up at you with a goofy grin on his lips.

“Figured I had a fifty-fifty shot.”

Lips splitting into the biggest smile you had ever seen, Matt quickly rose to his feet and grabbed your face, capturing your mouth in a deep kiss as you gripped onto his jacket to hold him close. All of a sudden he quickly pulled away and shoved his hand down into his pocket.

“Oh shit, uh…sorry…I…here.”

Matt laughed nervously as he pulled a small velvet black box out of his pocket, opening it to reveal the ring inside. Your mouth fell open as a gasp escaped, and you gripped onto Matt’s forearm as fresh tears welled in your eyes.

“Matty…”

“Do…do you like it?”

“I…I love it. It’s…it’s perfect. How did you-”

“I had some help.”

Glancing up at Matt through your teary eyes, you watched as a bashful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Pulling the ring from the box, Matt gently grabbed onto your wrist with a shaky hand, and carefully slipped the ring onto your finger. It fit absolutely perfectly, and you stared down at it in awe as it dazzled beneath the lights. You were overwhelmed with so many emotions, and you didn’t know what to do other than grab Matt’s face and pull him down for a searing kiss. 

The two of you gripped onto each other as if you were afraid the other might disappear if you loosened your grasp even the slightest. You were a flurry of lips and teeth, trying to devour the other’s desire, consuming the taste of happiness together. Matt laid you down in the soft grass of the garden floor and made love to you right there, intertwining his hand with yours that wore the symbol of his love and promise to you.

A burst of laughter ripped through your chest at that memory of Matt’s nervousness as you covered your mouth, staring at Foggy knowingly in the reflection of the mirror. Elektra’s mouth split into a huge grin as she rolled her eyes, pressing a quick kiss to your temple and giving Foggy’s shoulder a squeeze on her way to the door.

“Alright, alright. Let me go do damage control. I’ll see you both out there. Oh, and Y/N, darling?”

You turned your head to look over at her as she paused in the doorway.

“Yeah?”

A warm smile tugged at the corners of Elektra’s mouth as she stared over at you, leaning her head briefly against the door. 

“You are the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”

You pursed your lips slightly as your face twisted up faintly into an expression of gratitude, returning her smile with one of your own.

“Thank you, Ellie.”

Elektra flashed you a quick wink, closing the door behind her to leave you alone with Foggy.

“She’s right, you know. You do look beautiful.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of your mouth as you looked at Foggy in the mirror, arching one of your brows quizzically.

“Did you just agree with her?”

“That stays between us. This is a one time thing.”

Laughing softly, you turned around to pull Foggy into a tight hug, sighing in relaxation as his arms came around you to hold you securely to his chest. There didn’t seem to be anything that a hug from Foggy Nelson couldn’t fix. All of the pent up nerves seemed to dissipate from the warmth of his embrace, and you suddenly felt a million times lighter.

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have anything to thank me for.”

“I have everything to thank you for.”

“Well in that case, I think Foggy would be a great name for your future kid.”

A deep laugh rumbled in his chest as you giggled, pulling back slightly to peer up at him with a grin.

“I’ll put in a good word.”

After Foggy left you alone to go rejoin Matt and the others, you stared at your reflection in the mirror, smoothing your hands over your dress for the millionth time. A part of you was still in disbelief that today was the day you were marrying your best friend. Matt had sworn to not take the second chance you had given him for granted, and had been treating it as if it were sacred. He opened up to you about everything now, even the rough nights that plagued his thoughts, and the horrors he desperately wanted to protect you from. There wasn’t a single thought or emotion he hid anymore, and he’d even gotten better about finding balance between each of his lives. That wasn’t to say that you both didn’t struggle from time to time still, but your relationship was the healthiest it had ever been.

A knock against the door tore you from your thoughts, and a smile quickly spread across your lips at the sight of the figure leaning against the doorway.

“Hey big guy.”

Frank’s mouth split into a grin as he looked at you, giving a slight nod of his head in your direction.

“Hey darlin’.”

Turning away from the mirror to face him fully, you swallowed thickly as you smoothed your trembling hands down the sides of your dress and gestured to it.

“I look okay?”

Frank cocked his head to the side as he smirked, taking you in with his eyes as he took a few steps forward to stand in front of you.

“You kiddin’? You’re gonna knock Red on his ass.”

You didn’t hardly have any family outside of the chosen one you had made with Matt, Foggy, Karen, Elektra, and Frank. When you’d let it slip to him that you would be walking down the aisle alone, Frank instantly offered to be the one to walk you. He confessed that it would probably be the closest he would ever get to walking his own daughter down the aisle, and you graciously accepted without hesitation. 

A smirk curled at the corner of your mouth as you let your eyes wander over his large figure, finally meeting his deep brown curious eyes.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so…”

“Dressed up, yeah yeah. Don’t get used to it.”

“I was gonna say not covered in blood.”

Frank let out a deep chuckle as he shook his head slowly, looking down at you with a dazzling grin on his lips.

“Figured I could behave for a few days so I didn’t mess up your pretty dress, yeah?”

“How generous of you.”

As the processional music started to play, the nerves you felt earlier returned full force, and you gripped onto Frank’s arm tightly as the reality of the situation started to sink in. This was actually happening. Matt was waiting for you on the other side of these doors, and in just a few moments, he would finally be your husband. Tears started to form in the corners of your eyes as your emotions started to catch up with you, thinking about everything the two of you had gone through together, and how it had all led up to this moment. Frank’s lips brushed against your cheek as he bent down to whisper into your ear.

“You say the word, and I’ll get you outta here. No questions asked, yeah?”

Gripping a little tighter onto his arm, you leaned into Frank’s embrace as a shaky breath left your lips.

“Where would we go?”

“Wherever you want, darlin’. I could hide you places even he couldn’t find.”

You swore you heard Matt groan loudly on the other side of the door, and you couldn’t help but giggle as you dipped your head back to look up at Frank. Taking a deep breath in, you exhaled slowly through your parted lips and nodded with a soft smile.

“I’m ready.”

Frank gave a slight nod as he leaned in to kiss your forehead, dropping his left eye in a wink as he smiled.

“Attagirl.”

“Frankie?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Don’t let me fall, please.”

Frank wrapped his right arm tightly around your waist, holding onto your hand with his left one as he squeezed it gently.

“Never.”

»»———　　———««

“As absolutely beautiful as you are in this dress, it’s time for it to come off.”

“You don’t wanna leave it on?”

“I’d love to, sweetheart, but it’s kind of in my way. Besides, it’s so pretty, I’d hate to ruin it with all the things I wanna do to you, Mrs. Murdock.”

A soft gasp left your lips as Matt gently sucked on that sensitive spot on your neck below your ear, and you could feel him grin against your skin when your heart skipped. He had taken every opportunity throughout the evening to call you that, or refer to you as his wife. Every time it hit your ears, a buzz of serotonin flooded your bloodstream and left you hazy.

“And what, exactly, is it that you wanna do to me, Mr. Murdock?”

Matt’s fingertips brushed lightly along the exposed skin of your bare back, causing a shudder to course through you while his nimble fingers delicately tugged the zipper of your dress agonizingly slow down your back. His stubble tickled against your cheek as he nuzzled your jaw, inhaling your scent deeply while leaving open mouthed kisses down the column of your neck.

“Fuck a baby into you.”

Gripping tightly onto his suit jacket, you were suddenly taken back to that night over a year ago when he’d first made that promise, and his words from that night flowed through your ears. 

I’m gonna marry you someday, Y/N.

I will put a ring on your finger tomorrow. 

I will put a baby in you tonight.

A fresh wave of mixed emotions glossed over your eyes, and Matt slowly pulled back to stare blankly down at your face with an expression of concern as he cradled your face in his hand.

“What is it, angel?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing.”

Matt tilted his head to the side slightly as his honey hazel eyes gazed down at you, tongue darting out to quickly wet his lips before they pulled into a timid smile.

“Was it the wedding you always wanted?”

Bringing your own hand up to cup Matt’s jaw, you pulled him in closer to touch your foreheads together as you whispered softly.

“Of course it was, Matty. You were the groom.”

Matt had been continuously asking you the same question all night, wanting to make sure you were absolutely happy with the biggest day of your lives. Honestly, it had been perfect. Karen had taken over as your unofficial wedding planner, and between her, Marci, and Elektra, you’d hardly had to lift a finger. Getting married in a church wasn’t a huge deal for you since you weren’t religious, but you knew how much it meant to Matt, and you offered to marry him in his church where his parents would’ve married. It was small and intimate, exactly what you both wanted.

The second you stepped through the open doors with Frank, Matt immediately started to cry. You were only a second behind him as soon as you saw him, the two of you gripping onto each other’s hands as Father Lantom led the ceremony, bringing everyone in attendance to tears as you exchanged your heartfelt vows. Matt had captured your lips in a deep kiss as soon as Father Lantom uttered his name, and he lightly smacked him over the back of the head with his bible to remind him that he was in church when the kiss started getting a little too heated for the house of God. Maggie had simply laughed, reminding Father Lantom that Matthew was indeed Jack Murdock’s son.

The reception was held at Josie’s where you had first met Matt over two years ago, courtesy of Karen. Foggy had drunkenly climbed onto the bar to deliver his best man speech which only drew further tears out of everyone from laughter by telling the most embarrassing story he could conjure about Matt from college, and also from the passionate gratitude he showered you in for making his best friend the happiest he had ever seen him.

Matt told me once he thought you were an angel created by God himself, and sent down from Heaven just for him, exactly when he needed you. I believe that’s true. There’s no other explanation for how perfect you are for him. Thank you for bringing my brother the happiness he’s always deserved. I love you both.

Karen could hardly contain her own tears as she spoke fondly about you and Matt, bringing even Frank and Jessica to tears with her sweet words.

I knew the night you met Matt that you loved him. I could see it in your eyes. Thank you for loving him the way that you do. I can’t tell you how happy it makes me as your best friend for you to end up with someone like Matt. Because I know he will take care of you, and protect you, and love you with everything he’s got, and I know you’ll do the same for him. I’m just so happy my two favorite people found each other.

“Today was the happiest day of my life. A day I never honestly thought would come, but I’m so happy it did, and I’m so happy it was with you. I wouldn’t change anything about it. I mean…apart from everyone offering to help you runaway, but.”

A loud laugh slipped past your ears at the annoyed look on Matt’s face, countered by the smirk that was threatening to spill across his lips. You gently squeezed his cheeks to purse his lips into a pout, leaning in to kiss them softly.

“You know they were joking.”

“No, Frank and Elektra were serious. They were actually gonna smuggle you out.”

Giggling softly, you shook your head as you leaned in to press your lips against Matt’s softly once more.

“Well I didn’t run, did I?”

Matt let out a deep exhale through his nose, shaking his head slowly as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“No. Still not sure why you didn’t.”

“There was cake.”

Matt rolled his eyes as he pushed himself up above you, and you giggled uncontrollably as you grabbed onto his tie to pull him back down towards you.

“I’m kidding! You know someone has to keep the Devil in line.”

Matt clicked his tongue against his cheek, narrowing his eyes slightly as he cocked his head to the side and stared down at you with a light smirk.

“That the only reason, then? Because you’re the only one that can?”

“I can think of a few more. Now, I thought you were helping me out of this dress?”

“I was.”

“Then be a good husband, Matthew, and help your wife.”

Matt’s eyes darkened considerably at the sultry tone of your voice, and a devilish grin took over his mouth as your beloved dimples settled in his inner cheeks. He was careful as he slipped the silk gown down your body, laying it carefully over the dresser before attacking your body with kisses once again. You frantically clawed at his jacket and dress shirt, blindly making quick work of his belt, already panting just from the idea of having your husband inside of you. There seemed to be a silent understanding between the two of you that neither of you had the patience for foreplay tonight, and all you both wanted in that moment was to be absolutely consumed by one another. 

As Matt settled between your spread thighs, a wash of nerves made you shiver, and you found yourself placing your shaky palm on his chest over his heart to get his attention.

“Matty…did you…are we…you really want a baby with me? Right now?”

Matt tilted his head in confusion as he let his eyes blankly wander over you, placing his palm flat on the pillow by your head as he leaned in closer towards you. You and Matt had been talking more seriously about starting a family after you got engaged, and you stopped taking birth control a few months before the wedding to make sure it was fully out of your system for when you two were ready to actually start trying.

“Of course I do. Why? Did you change your mind?”

“No! No no, it’s not that. I just…you aren’t going to miss it? I mean…the city means so much to you, Matty, and-”

“Hey, you mean the most to me. You’re the love of my life, sweetheart.”

You wrapped your fingers around Matt’s wrist as he held your face, nibbling at your bottom lip as you let out a shaky breath.

“I know, baby. I just…I know how much you need that part of yourself-”

“Not anymore. All I need is you. I’m still protecting the city, and the people in it, everyday. I’m still helping people. But New York doesn’t really need Daredevil anymore. It has people to protect it, like Luke and Jessica. And Colleen, Danny, even Frank and Elektra. You need me. And the one thing I care more about protecting and keeping safe is you, and our family.”

“I just don’t want you to wake up one day and regret hanging up the suit, or feel any kind of resentment-”

“Sweetheart, listen to me. I could never regret anything with you. How could I feel even an ounce of resentment when you’re offering to give me the greatest gift in the world that I’ll never be able to repay you for, hm?”

Matt carefully wiped a stray tear away from your eye as you reached up to gently grab onto the back of his neck, pulling him down so that his chest was flush to yours as you whispered softly.

“I just want to make you happy, Matty.”

“You do, angel. Everyday. You are my happiness. Now, can I please make love to my wife?”

Matt took his time as he entered you, peppering kisses on every inch of your body he could find, moving his hips lazily as he fucked into you slowly to ensure you both felt everything. Interlacing your fingers together, he held your hands above your head and squeezed them tightly, repeatedly whispering into your ear how much he loved you, how beautiful and perfect you were for him, and how badly he wanted you to give him a baby. Matt pulled your legs tightly around his waist, angling your hips to reach the most delicious depths within you, spilling his seed into the deepest layer of your garden to plant the foundation for the family you both so desperately wanted together. 

Neither of you could get enough, and Matt fucked you sweetly and slowly several more times into the early hours of the night until your bodies simply couldn’t take anymore. He refused to withdraw himself from you, keeping his soft cock nestled within you, preventing any ounce of your future he had emptied into you from slipping out as he wrapped his arms around you from behind. Matt placed his palm over your lower belly, absentmindedly stroking his thumb in slow circles over the first home your child would have.

“I love you so much, angel.”

“I love you so much, Matty.”

Matt was here. Matt loved you. Matt was yours.

tags: @yarrystyleeza @little-miss-dilf-lover @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042 @thychuvaluswife

[thirtysomethingloser92]

1. Same Old Tired, Lonely Place.

Summary:

Trapped in The Void with Wade Wilson and Logan, you meet Remy LeBeau—the man fate has bound to you as your soulmate. From the moment you lock eyes, the connection is undeniable, but you hate the idea of a soulmate. You’ve spent your life keeping people at arm’s length, fiercely protecting your independence.

Remy’s charm and your growing bond make it hard to maintain those walls, even as chaos unfolds around you.

But when you finally escape The Void, Remy doesn’t come with you. Now you’re back home, haunted by the bond you didn’t ask for. What happens when your soulmate is still out there, and you’re left alone to face the inevitable pull of fate? Warnings: Angst, Hurt, Swearing, Violence, Smut.

The idea of soulmates had always been something you hated.  In fact, you thought it was complete and utter bullshit. A fantasy spun by people who romanticized love to the point of obsession—desperate souls clinging to the belief that somewhere out there was a perfect match, just waiting to complete them. You never bought into it. The whole concept felt like a cheap fairytale, something designed to make people feel better about their lonely, mundane lives. The idea that two people were bound by some invisible force, destined to meet and fall into this profound, all-encompassing connection?

Ridiculous.

You’d seen the way people talked about it, the way their eyes lit up when the subject came up, the way they whispered about it like it was some kind of holy grail. As though finding your “other half” was the key to happiness, as though it would suddenly fix everything wrong with your life. And worse, the way people waited for it—wasting their lives in pursuit of some mythical bond, convinced that nothing else could compare. It was maddening.

Love wasn’t some magical force. It wasn’t preordained or written in the stars. Love, real love, was messy. It was hard work. It was built on choices—on compromise, on trust, on effort. Not some cosmic string pulling two people together like puppets on a stage. That was just lazy. A way for people to avoid taking responsibility for their own hearts, their own lives.

And the way people talked about it, like soulmates were the answer to everything wrong with the world. As if finding that one person would suddenly make you whole, as if you weren’t already enough on your own. It was toxic, this obsession with soulmates. It turned love into a crutch, a dependency, a desperate need rather than something you chose to give freely. You’d seen people break themselves over it, waiting for something that might never come, forsaking real connections in favor of some fairytale ending they’d been spoon-fed their entire lives.

You’d vowed a long time ago that you wouldn’t be one of them. You wouldn’t waste your life chasing after something so intangible, so unreliable. The whole idea of it made your skin crawl.

So yeah, the concept of soulmates? Total bullshit.

Or at least, that’s what you thought.

Then you met him.

And everything you thought you knew, everything you thought you believed, shattered in the space of a single breath. “The name's Remy LeBeau. De Diable Blanc. But you can call me The Gambit.” The resistance hideout was a far cry from any notion of comfort or sophistication—barely scraping the edge of what you could call livable. It was carved directly into the rugged stone of The Void, the walls rough and jagged, almost as if the place had been hastily gouged out of the earth itself. The dim, flickering light from an old, industrial lamp hanging from the ceiling cast long, moody shadows across the room, bathing everything in a sickly yellow glow that made the space feel even more claustrophobic.

The air was thick and stale, carrying the scent of dust, old leather, and alcohol. Clearly, Logan had made his mark here, judging by the half-empty bottle of whiskey clutched in his hand and the assortment of liquor bottles haphazardly strewn around a makeshift shelf that looked like it was barely holding itself together. The shelves, if they could even be called that, were cluttered with random supplies—canned goods, rusted tools, and whatever scavenged items the resistance had managed to scrape together from the remnants of pruned timelines.

Everything felt worn. The furniture looked like it had been pulled from a dozen different realities and pieced together with duct tape and desperation. The place had the vibe of a bunker, the kind of space where people only stayed because they had no other choice. It was survival, plain and simple. The walls, carved from rough stone, were dark, cold, and unforgiving. You could see faint cracks running along the surface, like the place was on the verge of collapsing in on itself.

The only window—a narrow, jagged slit in the rock—allowed a sliver of pale light to leak in from the outside, but it was barely enough to cut through the gloom. Dust particles floated lazily in the beam of light, the only real movement in the otherwise still room.

This was the heart of the resistance. A hideout that was more cave than command center, more tomb than refuge. It reeked of desperation, of people clinging to existence on the fringes of time.

You let out a sharp, bitter laugh that echoed off the jagged stone walls around you.

Maybe this was where you belonged. A graveyard for misfits and mistakes. People like you—people who never quite fit in anywhere else.

The whole situation felt like some kind of cosmic joke, and you were the punchline. The universe had played its cards, and they were stacked against you.

Seriously, The Void? The one time you stepped out of your comfort zone—left behind the familiar chaos of Hell’s Kitchen and the vigilante lifestyle you’d clung to—and this is where you ended up. Not just in some time-warped hellhole, but standing here, in the middle of all this chaos, staring at him.

Your soulmate.

The irony was so thick, you could choke on it. You’d spent your entire life spitting in the face of fate, scoffing at the idea of soulmates, of destiny—of any kind of higher power having a say in your future. You didn’t need anyone. You didn’t need to be completed. But now? Now you were standing in front of the man who was supposed to be your other half, and everything you believed about yourself was unraveling.

Remy LeBeau leaned casually against the wall, as if none of this chaos even fazed him. Like he was the king of his own personal wasteland. His red-on-black eyes were locked on you, that damn playing card twirling lazily between his fingers. He looked dangerous, like something out of a nightmare, and yet there was something magnetic about him—something you couldn’t shake, no matter how hard you tried.

The moment you’d realized who he was—what he was to you—a cold dread had settled in your chest, but it was laced with something else. Something darker. Something that made your skin prickle and your heart pound. The bond between you had snapped into place the second your eyes met, and now it felt like the very air between you was charged, humming with a raw, electric energy.

And of course, Wade Wilson couldn’t resist commenting on it.

“Are you serious?” Wade said, throwing up his hands dramatically, like he was personally offended by the entire situation. “Of all the people in the multiverse, you—you—end up with that guy?” He jabbed a finger in Remy’s direction, his voice dripping with exaggerated disbelief. “I mean, come on. You’re all, ‘I don’t need anyone, I’m too cool for feelings,’ and now the universe sticks you with Mister Smooth Criminal over there? This is like some soap opera-level shit.”

You shot Wade a glare that could melt iron. “Wade, I swear to God, if you don’t shut your mouth, I will—”

“Oh, I know, I know. You’ll rip my arms off, jam them somewhere unpleasant, and then probably throw me off a cliff. Heard it all before, sweetheart,” Wade interrupted, waving you off like your threats meant nothing. “But seriously, this is hilarious. You’ve spent years acting like emotions are a waste of time, and now? Now you’re standing there, all ‘oh no, my soulmate’, and it’s just—” Wade let out a laugh that was way too loud, slapping his knee for effect. “It’s like watching a car crash in slow motion, but I can’t look away.”

Logan, leaning against the crumbling wall nearby, grunted. He was holding his bottle of whiskey like it was the only thing keeping him sane. “This is a goddamn mess,” he muttered, taking a long swig. “First we get pruned. Now we’re stuck in The Void. And on top of that, I gotta deal with this soulmate bullshit? Give me a break.”

Beside him, Laura crossed her arms, her eyes darting between you and Remy with a mixture of curiosity and disgust, like she couldn’t decide if this whole thing was fascinating or just plain gross. “Soulmates are stupid,” she muttered, her voice flat. “It’s all just chemicals in the brain.”

“Smart kid,” Logan grunted, nodding in agreement. “Soulmates are a load of crap.”

“Hey, let’s not pretend this isn’t entertaining,” Wade chimed in again, as if he was narrating some kind of reality TV show. “I mean, look at her! She’s practically vibrating with feelings.” He leaned in toward you, dropping his voice to a mock whisper. “You’re dying inside, aren’t you? I can see it. You hate this. You hate him.” Wade wiggled his eyebrows, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “But you’re also kinda into it. Aren’t you?”

You clenched your fists at your sides, trying—failing—to ignore the way your pulse quickened under Remy’s steady, unwavering gaze. “Wade, I swear, I’m going to kill you.”

Wade, of course, was unfazed. He was leaning against a pile of crates, grinning like a kid at a carnival, clearly enjoying the chaos. “Oh, please,” he drawled, waving a hand dismissively. “You’re not gonna kill me. You’re too busy having your little soulmate moment with Tall, Dark, and Cajun over there.”

But you barely heard Wade. The second you realized who Remy LeBeau truly was to you, it was like the entire world around you shifted. No—it wasn’t just the world. It was the very fabric of reality itself. It started small, like the faintest tremor beneath your feet, something you could almost brush off as nothing. But then it grew, swelling into something so massive, so all-consuming, that it felt as if the ground you stood on had been ripped out from under you.

The Void—a wasteland that had always been cold, indifferent, devoid of life or warmth—suddenly felt alive.

You felt it in your chest first—a tremor, subtle but undeniable, like the distant rumble of a coming storm. And that tremor… it spread. It unraveled across your skin, sinking into your bones, weaving itself into the very core of you.

And yet, no matter how much your mind screamed at you to run, to put as much distance between you and him as possible, your body refused to obey. You were rooted to the spot, standing in the center of the hideout, surrounded by the others, but it was as if none of them existed. It was as if there was only him. Remy LeBeau.

Because somehow, deep down, in the marrow of your bones, you already knew the truth.

He was yours.

The realization hit you like a tidal wave, sudden and brutal, knocking the air from your lungs and leaving you breathless. You had heard the stories your whole life—about soulmates, about that unbreakable bond that tied one person to another. But they had always seemed like just that: stories. Something that happened to other people. Not you. Never you. And it wasn’t some gentle tug on your heartstrings. No soft, romantic whisper in your mind. No, this was something primal. Something fierce. It gripped you with the force of a storm, pulling you toward him with an intensity that terrified you. It was as if the universe itself had woven an invisible thread between the two of you—one so strong, so unyielding, that nothing, not even the vast, infinite wasteland of The Void, could sever it.

And that terrified you. Because Remy LeBeau was dangerous. Not just because of his reputation, though that alone should have been enough to send you running. No, it was something more than that. It was the way he looked at you, with those smoldering eyes that seemed to burn with a fire only you could see. It was the way his presence seemed to fill the space between you, making it hard to breathe, hard to think.  It was the way he smiled—crooked, sly, and all too knowing—like he already knew exactly what was happening inside of you, like he could feel the same pull, the same bond.

You hated it. You hated him for making you feel like this, for making you vulnerable in a way you had never been before. You had built walls around yourself, high and impenetrable—walls that had kept you safe, that had kept you from ever getting too close to anyone. But Remy… he didn’t just tear those walls down. He shattered them with a single look, a single sentence. And now, there was nowhere to hide.

Your chest tightened with the weight of it all, with the overwhelming realization that your life had just irrevocably changed. You hadn’t asked for this. You hadn’t asked for him. But fate, it seemed, had other plans. And as much as you wanted to fight it, as much as you wanted to push him away and run as far from him as you could, you knew it would be futile.

Because Remy LeBeau wasn’t just some man. He was your soulmate. He was the one person in the universe who was meant for you, the one person who could see you, truly see you, in a way no one else ever could.

But for now, standing just behind Wade, facing down the man who looked like sin and danger incarnate, all you could do was stare at him, your heart pounding in your chest, your breath catching in your throat. You didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to process the whirlwind of emotions crashing through you. Remy’s red-on-black eyes held yours for what felt like an eternity—burning, intense, and all-knowing. There was an unspoken energy between you, something deep and raw that neither of you could deny. It clung to the air, thick and palpable, like the charge before a lightning strike. You could feel the bond settling into place, and for a moment, it was as if the entire world had narrowed to just the two of you.

But then, something shifted in his gaze. His attention flickered, his eyes moving from yours to something—or rather, someone—just behind you. The soft clinking of glass reached your ears, the sound breaking the spell that had wrapped around you like a vice. You blinked, pulling yourself out of the trance just as Remy’s expression shifted from intense to something more amused, more dangerous.

“You know,” Remy began, pausing his casual shuffling of a deck of cards as he tilted his head slightly to the side, his Cajun accent thick and dripping with charm, “we never had a Wolverine up in here.” He let the words hang in the air, a playful grin tugging at the corner of his lips, but there was an edge to it, something sharp beneath the surface. His fingers stilled on the cards, and his gaze narrowed just a fraction. “But I can tell you now, mon ami, it’s just a common courtesy t’ask before y’drink up all of my liquor.”

His voice dropped lower, the playful lilt giving way to something more dangerous—a warning.

You turned on instinct, curiosity pulling you to glance over your shoulder. Sure enough, there stood Logan, the unmistakable figure of Wolverine, holding up a half-empty bottle of whiskey in one hand and wearing that same familiar, dry, unimpressed look on his face. He didn’t seem to care about Remy’s thinly veiled threat, didn’t even flinch at the tension in the air between them.

Logan raised the bottle slightly, his eyes locking with Remy’s, before he took a long, deliberate swig. When he pulled the bottle away from his lips, he gave a small, half-shrug, completely unfazed. “That’s a good thing I don’t give a fuck,” he said gruffly, his voice low and gravelly, as he took another long drink, clearly not in the mood for a pissing contest.

You could almost hear the smirk forming on Remy’s lips behind you.

Remy let out a short chuckle, but there was no humor in it. It was the kind of laugh that sent a shiver down your spine, one that promised trouble. His fingers moved in a blur, and before you could even process what was happening, one of his cards glowed with that unmistakable pinkish energy. Charged with kinetic power, the card was flicked so fast it was a blur of light and motion. The next thing you knew, the bottle in Logan’s hand exploded with a sharp, cracking sound, shards of glass spraying outward.

You jumped back, your heart racing, instinctively throwing up your arms to shield yourself from the debris. The air was thick with the scent of whiskey and ozone from the charged card as you quickly glanced at Logan, who looked more irritated than anything else. Shards of glass littered the floor, and Logan stood there, bottle neck in hand, whiskey dripping from his knuckles, his expression somewhere between annoyed and unimpressed.

“Asshole,” Logan grumbled under his breath, barely sparing Remy a glance as he tossed the broken remnants of the bottle aside. Glass shattered at his feet, but he didn’t care. He was already reaching for another bottle from the bar, twisting the cap off with the kind of casual ease that said this kind of shit happened all the time in his world. And knowing Logan? It probably did. He took a long, slow swig, completely unfazed by the mess of glass and whiskey at his feet.

You stood there, arms crossed, watching this little pissing contest between Remy and Logan with a mixture of irritation and exhaustion. The Void had already drained most of your patience, and this macho shit wasn’t helping. Your head throbbed, and your throat was dry, but the last thing you needed was to get tangled up in whatever testosterone-laced nonsense these two were brewing, “Close up abilities. Now I get it,” You said simply.

Remy didn’t miss a beat, though. He turned to you, his smirk still firmly in place, eyes gleaming with that damnable charm that seemed to ooze from him. “I charge up the cards, make 'em go boom,” he explained as if you hadn’t already figured that out. His voice was smooth, that Cajun drawl curling around the words like smoke.

You rolled your eyes, feeling a headache coming on. You didn’t need this right now. Hell, you didn’t need any of this. The Void, Remy LeBeau, the whole “soulmate” business—it was all one long, exhausting cosmic joke, and you were the punchline. You’d spent your whole life avoiding entanglements, keeping people at arm’s length, and now? Now you were supposedly bound to him?

Yeah, fuck that.

“Great,” you said flatly, your voice dripping with disinterest. “You’re a walking fire hazard. Good for you.”

Remy’s grin didn’t falter, though. If anything, it seemed to widen. “Y’got a sharp tongue, cher,” he mused, his eyes never leaving yours. “But I like that. Keeps things interestin’.”

“You must be a riot at parties,” you shot back, feeling your temper flare. You didn’t like the way he was looking at you, like he could see something in you that you didn’t want anyone seeing. And you definitely didn’t like the way your heart had skipped a beat when he called you cher.

You weren’t some starry-eyed romantic. You weren’t the kind of person who believed in fate or soulmates or any of that bullshit. You were practical. Hard. Worn down by the world in more ways than you could count. And now? Now you were supposed to believe that this cocky, card-throwing, smooth-talking asshole was your other half?

Fuck. That.

Before you could say anything else, Elektra stepped in, her voice sharp and cutting through the tension like a blade. “Enough,” she said, her gaze flicking between you and Remy. “We’re wasting time. You can all lay low here while we figure out how to get out of this…place.”

You took a deep breath, grateful for the distraction. The Void was starting to mess with your head, and the last thing you needed was to be stuck here, in this weird limbo, dealing with Remy and his infuriating charm. Blade and Elektra might not be the warmest hosts, but at least they were practical. You could work with practical.

“Fine,” you muttered, running a hand through your hair. “Let’s just get the hell out of here.”

Blade, who had been silent up until now, gave you a brief nod. He didn’t say much, but then again, he never did. He was a man of action, not words, and right now, that was exactly what you needed.

As the group started to make plans about what was needed to get you all out, Remy sidled up next to you, his presence unmistakable. He moved like a cat—silent, fluid, and way too close for comfort.

“Y’know, cher,” he began, his voice low and smooth, “we ain’t gotta pretend like this soulmate thing don’t mean nothin’.”

You stiffened, your jaw clenching as you kept your eyes firmly ahead, refusing to look at him. “I don’t believe in soulmates,” you said, your voice clipped and cold. “And even if I did, you wouldn’t be it.”

He chuckled softly, the sound like warm honey slipping through the cracks in your armor. “That so?” he asked, his tone teasing, but there was something deeper underneath it, something that made your pulse quicken against your will. “Seems like the universe disagrees wit’ y’, cher.”

“The universe can go fuck itself,” you snapped. “I don’t care what some cosmic bullshit says. I don’t want a soulmate. I don’t need a soulmate.”

Remy’s grin softened, but his eyes—those damn red-on-black eyes—stayed locked on yours, unflinching. “Maybe y’jus’ scared, non?” he suggested, his voice gentle in a way that made your throat tighten. “Maybe y’jus’ don’t wanna admit that someone out there might actually care ‘bout y’.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, and you hated him for it. Hated him for seeing past the walls you’d built, for seeing the cracks underneath. You’d spent years keeping people at bay, pushing them away before they could get too close. You weren’t about to let some smooth-talking thief break down the walls you’d spent a lifetime building.

As Remy stood there, watching you struggle to form the words, he could feel the weight of it all pressing down on him. He wasn’t used to this—this feeling. This raw, undeniable connection that hummed between the two of you like a live wire. It was unsettling, even for him. And that was saying something. He was Gambit, after all—the man who could slip in and out of any situation, any heart, without leaving too much behind. He was the one who played with danger, danced on the edge of chaos, and never got too close.

But this… this was different.

From the moment he locked eyes with you, something shifted inside him. It wasn’t just the pull he felt, that deep, bone-deep knowing that came with the soulmate bond. It was you—the fire in your eyes, the way you carried yourself like you didn’t need anyone, like you were ready to take on the world by yourself. He could see it, clear as day. The walls you’d built around yourself, the way you guarded your heart like a fortress. And he knew—he knew—that you weren’t the type to let anyone in easily.

But still… there was something about you. Something that made him want to try.

He watched as you opened your mouth, clearly ready to tell him off, to push him away just like you’d done from the moment you realized who he was to you. It was almost predictable at this point. But the words didn’t come. And in that silence, in that tiny moment where you faltered, he saw it—the fear. The fear you were trying so hard to hide, the fear that ran deeper than any anger or frustration you threw his way.

You were scared. Not of him. No, this wasn’t about him at all. You were scared of what he represented. Of the bond that tied you together, a bond neither of you had asked for but couldn’t deny. You were scared of letting someone in—scared of what it would mean if you did.

And Remy understood that. Hell, he understood it better than most. He’d spent most of his life running from the same thing. But now, standing here, so close to you that he could feel the heat rolling off your skin, he realized something.

He didn’t want to run anymore.

He sighed, his usual cocky bravado slipping away as he lowered his voice, speaking softly so that no one else could hear. “Look, cher,” he began, his tone uncharacteristically gentle. “I ain’t sayin’ we gotta make this more than it is right now.” He paused, glancing down for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “But if y’want to talk ‘bout it… I’m here. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

He could see the conflict in your eyes, the way your heart was warring with your head. You were staring at him like he was offering you something dangerous, something you didn’t want to touch. And maybe he was. Maybe everything about him was dangerous. But this? This was as honest as he’d ever been. He wasn’t trying to charm you, wasn’t trying to push you into anything. He just wanted you to know that he was there—really there, in a way he rarely was for anyone else.

Because for the first time in a long time, he wanted to be.

You stood there, your eyes locked on his, and for a brief second, he thought you might take him up on it. That maybe, just maybe, you’d let him in. But then you blinked, the walls sliding back into place, and you shook your head just slightly, as if shaking off the moment entirely.

“Thanks,” you muttered, the word stiff and awkward on your tongue, like it physically hurt to say it. “But I’m good.”

Remy chuckled softly, though this time, there was no teasing in it. No smugness. Just understanding. He knew what it felt like to keep people at arm’s length, to convince yourself that you didn’t need anyone. And he wasn’t going to push you. Not now. Maybe not ever. But he wanted you to know that the door was open.

“Alright, cher,” he said, his voice low, carrying just the faintest hint of warmth. “But the offer’s always open.”

With that, he gave you a small nod and turned away, his boots scuffing softly against the stone floor as he walked back toward the others. Each step he took felt heavier than the last, like he was leaving something behind. But he didn’t look back. He wanted to—hell, he wanted to stay there with you, to push past the walls you’d put up. But he knew better. You weren’t ready. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

And that was okay. He could wait.

He didn’t hate you for it. How could he? He understood your fear because he felt it too. Every part of him wanted to reach out, to close the distance between you, but he knew that wasn’t how this worked. You couldn’t force something like this. It had to be mutual.

Still, he couldn’t ignore the way his heart raced when he thought about you—the way his pulse quickened every time he caught your scent in the air or heard your voice. It scared the hell out of him, but it also thrilled him in a way nothing ever had before. There was something electric between you, something raw and untamed, and no matter how much you both tried to fight it, it was there.

He could only hope that one day, you’d stop fighting it too.

For now, though, he’d give you space. He’d wait. Because no matter how much you hated this—hated him—he knew the truth. He was yours. And deep down, no matter how hard you tried to deny it, you were his too.

It was just a matter of time. <><><<><><><><><><>

Night had fallen—or at least, the closest approximation of night that The Void allowed. The dim, eternal twilight of this place never truly changed, but the group had settled into a rhythm regardless. People took turns keeping watch, sleeping in shifts, always on edge, never fully relaxed. This was a place where vigilance was as crucial as breathing.

You were sitting on the edge of a half-collapsed structure that passed for shelter, absently cleaning your weapons. The air here was thick with tension, the weight of too many lives twisted together by circumstance. You could feel the others moving around you—Logan muttering quietly with Laura, Wade humming some off-key pop song while sharpening his katanas. The scrape of metal on stone was oddly comforting in the silence.

And then there was Remy.

He’d been unusually quiet since the decision was made to stay, his usual smirk replaced by something more thoughtful, more restrained. You’d caught him watching you a few times, his red-on-black eyes lingering on you in that maddening, unreadable way of his. It wasn’t the cocky, playful look he usually gave people—it was something else. Something that made your heart clench uncomfortably in your chest.

He approached you now, his footsteps soft and deliberate. You didn’t look up as he stopped in front of you, but you could feel his presence like a storm on the horizon—electric, dangerous, impossible to ignore.

“Y’alright, cher?” he asked, his voice low, almost gentle.

You nodded, though you weren’t entirely sure the answer was true. “Fine.”

Remy didn’t press, just stood there for a moment, his hands casually tucked into his coat pockets. You could feel his eyes on you again, like he was searching for something in your expression that you weren’t ready to give. You hated how easily he could read you, how he seemed to see past all the walls you’d spent years building.

“Look,” he said after a moment, his voice dropping even lower, more personal. “I’m takin’ first watch tonight.” He gestured toward the makeshift sleeping area behind him. “Y’can take my cot.”

You finally looked up at him, eyebrows raised. “You’re giving me your bed?”

He shrugged, like it was no big deal. “Gotta sleep somewhere, non? ‘Sides, I’ll be up all night anyway. Might as well put it to good use.”

You stared at him for a long moment, trying to figure out his angle. Remy LeBeau was always playing a game, always working some angle, but this felt… different. There wasn’t that usual glint of mischief in his eyes, no smirk tugging at his lips. He seemed sincere, and that made you more uncomfortable than anything else.

“I’m fine,” you said, your voice coming out a little harsher than you intended. “I don’t need your bed.”

Remy’s lips twitched, a faint shadow of his usual grin. “‘Course you don’t. But it’s there if y’want it.”

There was something disarming about the way he said it, like he wasn’t offering out of pity or obligation, but simply because he wanted to. And that unsettled you more than anything. You were used to people wanting things from you—information, strength, loyalty. But this? This felt like something else.

You glanced past him, toward the others. Logan was already stretched out on the floor, eyes closed but not fully asleep. Laura was perched nearby, her gaze sharp as ever. Wade was still humming to himself, completely absorbed in whatever bizarre internal monologue was playing out in his head. No one was watching you and Remy, but you felt exposed all the same.

“Thanks,” you muttered, the word awkward and stiff in your mouth.

Remy nodded, the movement slow and easy, like he hadn’t expected anything more. “No problem, cher.”

He turned to leave, but paused for just a moment before walking away. His eyes flicked back to yours, and for a second, there was something unspoken, something heavy hanging between you. It wasn’t the usual flirtation, the playful banter you’d come to expect from him. It was something deeper. More vulnerable. Like he was offering you more than just a place to sleep.

Later, long after the others had settled into some semblance of sleep, you found yourself sitting on the edge of the cot. The cot smelled faintly of him—of smoke and leather and something else, something warm and familiar. You hated how comforting it was, how it made your chest tighten in a way that had nothing to do with fear or anger.

You glanced toward the entrance of the shelter where Remy was keeping watch, his silhouette barely visible in the half-light. He was leaning against the crumbling wall, his posture relaxed but alert, his eyes scanning the horizon for any sign of danger.

He hadn’t asked for anything in return. He hadn’t pushed or pried or tried to make you talk about the bond that hung between you like a noose. He had simply offered what he could—his cot, his quiet presence—and it was more than you’d expected.

And that scared you more than anything.

Because for the first time in a long time, you weren’t sure if you wanted to push him away. <><><><><><><> The Void was a place that gnawed at you, a wasteland of perpetual twilight where time seemed to stretch and twist. The longer you stayed, the more it got under your skin—like an itch you couldn’t scratch, or a weight that pressed down on your chest, leaving you breathless. The others felt it too, you could tell. Even Logan, with all his gruff resilience, had been more irritable than usual, his temper flaring at the smallest things. Wade, for all his jokes and endless chatter, had moments where his eyes flickered with something darker, something he tried to bury under layers of sarcasm.

But it hit you differently.

At first, you didn’t want to acknowledge it. You were used to keeping your distance, to handling your own problems, pushing everything deep down where it couldn’t hurt you—or anyone else. You had your walls, and they’d served you well. The Void, though, had a way of slipping through the cracks, of amplifying every doubt, every fear you’d buried. The anxiety started creeping in, subtle at first—a knot in your stomach, an edge of paranoia that made the shadows seem too deep, the silence too loud.

And then there was Remy.

It started with something simple: sparring.

You hadn’t wanted to at first—didn’t want to get too close, didn’t want to let him in. But the Void was unpredictable, and everyone needed to stay sharp. Besides, you told yourself, it wasn’t really about him. It was about you staying strong, keeping your skills honed for when the time came to face Cassandra Nova.

That’s what you told yourself, anyway.

Remy had suggested it with his usual casual charm, leaning against the crumbling wall with that cocky grin of his. “C’mon, cher,” he’d said, spinning one of his bo staffs between his fingers as if it weighed nothing. “A little practice never hurt nobody. Better to be ready than rusty, non?”

You’d hesitated, arms crossed over your chest, giving him a look that said don’t push me. But he didn’t push—not really. He just stood there, watching you with those damn red-on-black eyes, waiting. He had a way of making it seem like it was no big deal, like it was your decision all along. And eventually, reluctantly, you agreed.

The first session was tense. You kept your distance, both physically and emotionally, moving through the motions with precision but no real connection. Remy, to his credit, didn’t try to crowd you. He was quick, graceful, his movements smooth and effortless, but he never pressed too hard. He let you come to him on your terms, even when you were holding back.

By the third or fourth sparring session, though, something shifted.

You still tried to keep him at arm’s length, but Remy had a way of sneaking past defenses you didn’t even realize you’d built. At first, it was just in the way he moved—fluid, controlled, almost playful. He made it look easy, and you found yourself grudgingly respecting that. There was something fascinating about the way he fought, like he was dancing more than sparring, always a step ahead, always with some trick up his sleeve. It was infuriating, but also… captivating.

It started out simple enough—just sparring. Something to keep your skills sharp, to stay ready for whatever Cassandra or the Void itself might throw at you. At first, it was strictly business. You needed to stay focused, to keep your edge. Remy was just another set of hands, someone to help you maintain that discipline. Nothing more.

But Remy wasn’t the kind of person you could keep at a distance for long. He had a way of weaving his charm into every moment, slipping through the cracks of your defenses before you even realized it. And then there were the words. The banter.

Remy had a silver tongue, and he used it often, throwing out quips and teases mid-spar, his voice smooth and rich, like honeyed whiskey. That Cajun accent curled around every syllable, wrapping even the most mundane phrases in a kind of warmth you hadn’t expected. At first, you resisted it—tried to stay focused, tried to keep the interaction strictly professional. You needed to stay in control. You needed—wanted—to keep him at arm’s length.

But damn, did he make it hard.

"You’re slippin’, cher,” he’d said one day, dodging a punch with infuriating ease. He moved like smoke—fluid, untouchable, always just out of reach. His grin was lazy, teasing, like he wasn’t even breaking a sweat. “Might have to start callin’ you slowpoke instead of powerhouse.”

You’d glared at him, narrowing your eyes as you pulled back your fist and readied yourself for another strike. But the heat behind the glare wasn’t real, and you both knew it. “Shut up, LeBeau.”

He chuckled, low and soft, his eyes flashing with amusement. “Don’t worry,” he purred, sidestepping your next move with maddening ease. “I’ll go easy on ya.”

At first, you told yourself it didn’t matter. That it was just part of the sparring, part of the game. A way to keep things light, to take the edge off the endless tension that hung over all of you like a dark cloud. The constant threat of the Void weighed heavy on everyone’s shoulders, and if Remy wanted to joke around to keep things from getting too bleak, then fine. You could deal with that.

But then he made you laugh.

It started small—a half-smirk here, a quiet huff of amusement there. But before long, you found yourself smiling more, even when you didn’t want to. Even when you were trying to stay serious, trying to keep your distance. His words had a way of slipping under your skin, taking the edge off your frustration, easing the weight of the Void pressing down on you.

One day, after narrowly dodging one of your kicks, he had the audacity to wink at you. “Gotta do better than that, cher,” he said, his voice dripping with playful arrogance. “You’re makin’ this too easy.”

You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile as you lunged at him again, faster this time. “You talk too much.”

“Maybe,” he replied, easily dodging your punch and spinning behind you in one fluid motion. His voice was low and close to your ear. “But you like it, non?”

You froze for a split second, caught off guard—not by his proximity, but by how right he was. You did like it. More than you wanted to admit. More than you were supposed to.

Remy took advantage of your hesitation, sweeping your legs out from under you in one swift move. You landed on the mat with a soft thud, and before you could even catch your breath, he was crouched next to you, his grin wide and unapologetic.

“Gotta keep focused, cher,” he said, not bothering to hide his amusement. “Can’t let me distract you like that.”

You glared up at him, your pride stinging more than the fall. “I wasn’t distracted.”

“Sure you weren’t.” He winked again, offering you a hand to help you up. You hesitated for a heartbeat before taking it, letting him pull you to your feet with ease.

It was in that moment, standing there with his hand still wrapped around yours, that you realized something had shifted. The banter, the teasing—it wasn’t just a game anymore. Not for him. Not for you.

The days passed in a blur of sparring sessions, supply runs, and restless nights in the Void. And somehow, Remy was always there—always close, always watching with that infuriatingly knowing gaze, like he could see right through you. He never pushed too hard, never pried into the things he knew you weren’t ready to share. But he was there. Always there.

And the more time you spent with him, the harder it became to keep your walls intact.

It wasn’t just the banter anymore. It was the way he looked at you—the way his eyes softened when you let your guard down, even for a moment. The way he seemed to know when you needed space and when you needed him to be close. The way he could make you forget, just for a little while, about the weight of the Void pressing down on your chest.

And then there were the moments in between the sparring, the quiet moments when it was just the two of you, sitting in silence after a long day of searching for supplies. You’d sit there, side by side, watching the strange, shifting horizon of the Void, neither of you saying anything. And somehow, those were the moments that felt the most intimate. The most real.

The anxiety came in waves, subtle at first. You’d be walking through the endless twilight, your eyes scanning the horizon for supplies or landmarks, when the air would feel too thick, too heavy. Your heart would start to race for no reason, your chest tightening like there was something you couldn’t quite reach. It wasn’t long before the paranoia followed—shadows that seemed too long, sounds that didn’t belong, the feeling that someone—something—was watching you.

You tried to push it down, to ignore it. You told yourself it was just stress, just the pressure of the mission, of being stuck in this godforsaken place for too long. But it wasn’t just stress. The Void was getting to you, worming its way into your mind, twisting your thoughts, making everything feel wrong.

You hadn’t noticed how much you’d been slipping until one day, after a particularly long supply run, you found yourself standing still in the middle of a clearing, unable to move, your breath coming in short, ragged bursts. The shadows had started to feel like they were closing in, and for a moment, you weren’t sure if they were real or just in your head. Everything felt too close, too heavy.

Remy had noticed immediately.

He’d been walking a few paces ahead but turned when he realized you’d stopped. His eyes flicked over you, taking in your stiff posture, the way your hands were clenched into fists at your sides, the tremor you couldn’t quite hide.

"Hey,” he said, his voice soft but urgent as he stepped toward you. “Cher, what’s wrong?”

You shook your head, trying to force the panic down, trying to act like you were fine. “It’s nothing,” you muttered, your voice tight. “Let’s just keep moving.”

But Remy didn’t buy it. He stepped closer, his gaze steady, his voice calm. “It’s The Void,” he said quietly. “It does this. Gets in your head. Makes you feel like everything’s closin’ in.”

You looked at him, your heart still racing, your chest still tight. “It’s not me?” The question slipped out before you could stop it, and you hated how vulnerable it sounded, how raw.

Remy shook his head, his eyes soft with understanding. “Non, cher. It ain’t you. This place… it messes with everyone. I’ve seen it before. Makes the strongest people doubt themselves. Makes ‘em feel like they’re losin’ control.”

His words sank into you, slowly easing some of the tension in your chest. You took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. “How do you deal with it?”

Remy’s lips twitched into a small, wry smile. “You don’t, really. You just remind yourself it’s not real. Not you. And you stick close to the people who ground you. The ones who keep you from slippin’ too far.”

He was close now, closer than he usually got, but his presence wasn’t overwhelming. It was steady, solid. You could feel the warmth of him, the calm certainty in his voice, and for the first time in days, the anxiety that had been gnawing at you started to ease.

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Thanks.”

Remy’s smile softened, his eyes never leaving yours. “Anytime, cher.”

And in that moment, something shifted. The walls you’d built around yourself—the ones you’d spent so long reinforcing—didn’t feel quite so necessary anymore. Maybe, just maybe, there was someone here worth letting in.

Maybe Remy wasn’t just breaking down your walls.

Maybe you were letting him. It wasn’t long before the two of you were paired off for other tasks. The group had to split up often—The Void was a vast, ever-changing landscape, and supplies were scarce. Remy had started volunteering to go with you on these supply runs, offering to help navigate the twisted terrain. You’d been reluctant at first, not wanting to spend more time with him than necessary, but you couldn’t exactly refuse without drawing questions.

So you went.

The first few trips were quiet. You kept your eyes on the horizon, on the strange, shifting landscape that seemed to pulse and breathe around you, always changing, always disorienting. Remy was more subdued during these runs, his usual cocky banter replaced by a quiet focus. He didn’t push for conversation, didn’t try to pry into your thoughts. He just walked beside you, his presence steady, his eyes always scanning for danger.

But eventually, the silence between you started to feel less like a barrier and more like a space where something else could grow.

You’d catch him watching you sometimes, his gaze soft but thoughtful, like he was trying to figure you out without pushing too hard. And slowly, you found yourself opening up, if only a little. It wasn’t anything dramatic—just small moments, little cracks in the wall. A comment here, a shared look there. You still kept your distance, still tried to hold him at bay, but it was harder and harder to deny that something was shifting between you. <><><><><><><<><> The fire crackled softly between you, casting flickering shadows across the rough terrain. The heat from the flames was comforting, a rare warmth in a world that had been so unforgiving. You and Remy sat side by side, the air around you thick with unspoken tension, the weight of what was to come hanging heavy between you. Tomorrow, you would face Cassandra, and if you succeeded, you would finally have a chance to return home.

But tonight, it was just the two of you, the fire, and the quiet of the night.

Remy leaned back, propping himself on his elbows, his eyes reflecting the orange glow of the fire. He had that familiar, easy smile playing on his lips, but you knew him well enough now to see through it. There was something deeper in his expression tonight. Something he wasn’t saying.

“We really gonna do this, huh?” he asked, his voice low and casual, as if you were talking about some small, inconsequential thing rather than the life-or-death mission you were about to undertake.

You gave a small nod, your gaze fixed on the flames. “Looks like it.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “I gotta admit, cher, you got more guts than I gave you credit for when we first met.”

You smirked, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. “Took you long enough to figure that out, Cajun.”

His laugh was a little louder this time, full of warmth, and for a moment, it felt normal. Like you weren’t sitting in the middle of a war-torn world, like you weren’t about to walk into a battle that could very well be your last. Like it was just you and Remy, sharing a quiet night by the fire.

“What are y’gonn do when ya get back?” He asked, shifting the conversation to lighter ground, even though there was nothing light about the question. “Y’know, assuming we don’t die tomorrow.” He leaned back, looking up at the sky.

You leaned back, mirroring his pose, staring up at the stars. “Honestly? I haven’t thought that far ahead. Probably sleep for a week. Maybe get a drink that doesn’t taste like dirt.”

He grinned. “Now that’s a plan.”

The banter was light, easy, but it was just a way to fill the silence, “What about you? What’s your grand plan?” You both knew there were bigger things left unsaid. As that thought sank in, the conversation started to lull, and the familiar quiet settled between you.

And then, after a long pause, Remy’s voice cut through the stillness, quieter this time.

“I ain’t goin’ back.”

You blinked, the weight of his words sinking in as you turned to look at him. His gaze was now on the fire, his expression unreadable, but there was something resigned in the way he said it.

“What do you mean?” you asked, though you already had a feeling what he was going to say.

“There’s nothin’ for me out there,” he replied, his voice soft, almost matter-of-fact. “The world you come from? That ain’t my world no more. Ain’t been for a long time.”

You stared at him, the crackling of the fire the only sound between you for a long moment. His words hit harder than you expected, the finality of them settling in your chest like a stone. And for a second, you couldn’t speak. You just let the silence stretch, trying to process what he was saying.

After a moment, you swallowed and looked back at the fire, your voice quieter than before. “You have me.”

Remy’s smile was small, sad, as if he appreciated the sentiment but knew better. He shook his head, his eyes softening as they met yours. “Cher… you got a life waitin’ for you. A real life. People who care ‘bout you. Friends. Family. I don’t got none of that.”

You opened your mouth to argue, to tell him that wasn’t true, that you cared about him, that he wasn’t alone—but he cut you off before you could speak.

“I’ve accepted that I ain’t ever leavin’ here,” he said, his voice steady, resigned. “My job is to get you home.”

It felt like a punch to the gut. The fire flickered, casting shadows across his face, but you could see the truth written in his eyes. He had already made his peace with it. He didn’t see a future for himself beyond this world, beyond this fight.

And the worst part? He wasn’t saying it to be noble. He wasn’t trying to be a martyr. He genuinely believed it. He had spent so long surviving, so long fighting, that he had forgotten what it meant to live. To hope for something better.

“Remy…” Your voice was soft, barely a whisper, but he heard it. His eyes flicked to yours, and you saw a flicker of something there—something vulnerable, something that told you he wasn’t as sure as he pretended to be.

“I’m serious, cher,” he said, his voice gentler now. “You’re gonna get through that portal tomorrow. And when you do, you’re gonna go home. That’s all that matters.”

You shook your head, your chest tight. “And what about you? What happens to you?”

He smiled again, that sad, resigned smile that made your heart ache. “I’ll be right where I belong.”

The silence stretched between you once more, heavy and painful. You wanted to argue, to tell him that he belonged with you, that this damn world didn’t have to be the end for him. But the words wouldn’t come. Maybe because deep down, you knew he had already made up his mind.

But that didn’t stop the knot in your chest from tightening, didn’t stop the pain from settling deep in your bones. You didn’t want to leave him behind. You didn’t want to lose him. Because somewhere along the way, in the middle of all the chaos and the fighting, he had become more than just a teammate. More than just a partner in this war.

He had become a part of you.

You stared at the fire, your heart heavy, and for a moment, you just sat in that silence, letting it wash over you. There were no easy answers. No promises that could be made. But there was one thing you knew for certain.

“I don’t want to go home without you,” you said quietly, your voice barely audible. It wasn’t a plea. It wasn’t even a question. It was just the simple, painful truth.

Remy didn’t say anything for a long time. His gaze softened, and when he finally spoke, his voice was gentle, as if he was trying to ease the ache in your chest. “You’ll be alright, cher. You stronger than you know.”

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak. But you nodded, because what else could you do? You couldn’t change his mind. Not now. Not after everything.

The fire crackled softly between you, and for the rest of the night, you sat together in silence, knowing that tomorrow would change everything. <><><><><><><> The car rattled over the uneven road, the worn leather beneath you creaking with every bump. You shifted in your seat, trying to find some semblance of comfort between Remy and Blade, but there was none to be found. The desert stretched endlessly outside the window, the heat of the sun beating down on the roof of the car, casting sharp shadows that flickered across the flat, barren landscape. You could feel the tension in the air like a living thing, thick and oppressive, weighing down on your chest, making it hard to breathe.

The silence wasn’t peaceful. It wasn’t the kind of quiet you could sink into and find some relief. No, this was the kind of silence that felt like a coiled spring, ready to snap at any moment. Everyone was on edge. Laura’s knuckles were white as she gripped the steering wheel, eyes laser-focused on the road ahead, while Blade sat rigid beside you, his hand twitching toward the hilt of his sword every few minutes as if he was expecting an attack. Logan, crammed into the trunk, hadn’t said a word since you’d started driving, though you could practically feel his irritation simmering from behind you.

And then there was Remy.

Ever the charmer, he’d tried to break the tension earlier. That Cajun drawl of his had slipped through the thick air, lazy and teasing as he cracked some half-assed joke about how, if the car got any more crowded, you might as well sit on his lap. He’d said it like it was nothing, like it was just another one of his flirty quips, but you weren’t in the mood. Not today. One sharp glare from you had shut him up for the rest of the ride.

Good. You didn’t have the patience for his bullshit right now.

You closed your eyes, trying to block out the world, trying to shut down the endless churn of thoughts swirling in your head. You couldn’t stop thinking about what was coming. The portal. Cassandra’s lair. The end of this whole disaster, one way or another. You weren’t naive—you knew the odds. Chances were, none of you would make it out of this alive. Maybe Logan and Wade would, with their damn healing factors, but the rest of you? You weren’t optimistic. And honestly? You didn’t care. Whether you walked through that portal or died trying, it didn’t matter. Either way, you wouldn’t be dealing with this soulmate bullshit for much longer.

Wade had dragged you into this mess, and you’d never forgive him for it. You’d liked your life before all this—a life that made sense, a life that was simple. You’d spent your time knocking heads together, punching bad guys, getting a drink afterward. That was your zone. That was where you were comfortable. But this? Traveling through time and universes, being tossed around by multiverse drama like some kind of cosmic joke? This was so far out of your pay grade it was laughable.

And yet, somehow, over these long days in the Void, you hadn’t been able to keep your distance. Not from him.

It had started small, as these things always do. Late nights when the others were asleep or pretending to be. You weren’t sure how it happened, but you and Remy had fallen into a routine—quiet conversations under the endless twilight sky, his voice low and easy, drawing you in even when you tried to keep him at arm’s length.

He was always like that. Persistent. Charming in a way that made it impossible to shut him out completely, no matter how hard you tried. At first, you’d kept your guard up, throwing barbed words his way every time he tried to get close, but Remy had this way of slipping through cracks you didn’t even know were there. He never pushed too hard, never asked for more than you were willing to give. He was just… there. And slowly, without you realizing it, he’d started to slip past your defenses.

The first few nights, you hadn’t said much—just sat in silence, the two of you side by side, staring out at the endless horizon of the Void. But Remy had a way of filling the silence, not with words, but with his presence. He made you feel like you didn’t have to talk, like it was okay to just exist for a while, even in this hellish place. And then, after a few nights of that, the words started to come.

He talked about New Orleans, about the life he’d left behind. You learned about the Thieves’ Guild, about the complicated ties that still pulled at him even though he’d been trying to let go for years. He told you about Rogue, about how she’d been the one thing he thought he could never have, and how, in the end, that was exactly what happened. He lost her, and it wasn’t just her he’d lost—it was everything. His home, his purpose.

And now, sitting in the backseat of this cramped car, the weight of what was coming pressing down on your shoulders, you couldn’t stop thinking about that night. About the way Remy had looked at you, like he’d finally seen through all the layers of armor you used to keep everyone at a distance.

You stole a glance at him now, sitting beside you, his gaze fixed on the horizon. His profile was calm, collected, but you knew him well enough by now to see the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers fidgeted with the cards he always seemed to have on hand. He hadn’t said a word since you’d shut him down earlier, but you could feel him there, the steady presence you hadn’t realized you’d come to rely on.

It wasn’t much, what you’d offered him that night. Just a few words. But for someone like you, it was everything. You didn’t let people in easily. Hell, you didn’t let people in *at all.* But somehow, over the course of these long days in the Void, Remy had managed to break through. He’d wormed his way past your defenses with his charm, his banter, and his quiet understanding, until you’d found yourself trusting him in a way you hadn’t trusted anyone in a long time.

“You alright, cher?”

His voice broke through your thoughts, soft but steady, and you realized he’d been watching you. You blinked, pushing down the knot of anxiety that had been building in your chest.

“Yeah,” you lied, your voice rougher than you’d intended.

Remy didn’t push. He just nodded, lifting an eyebrow like he could see right through you, but he didn’t call you out. Instead, he leaned back in his seat, his arm brushing against yours in the cramped space.

“You got me, too,” he said quietly, so low you almost didn’t catch it over the hum of the engine.

And just like that, the tension in your chest eased, if only slightly. The Void was still there, still pressing in on all sides, but in that moment, with Remy beside you, it didn’t feel quite so overwhelming.

No matter what happened when you reached Cassandra’s lair, no matter what the Void threw at you next, you weren’t alone. You had him.

And maybe—just maybe—that was enough.

The car came to a violent, screeching halt, Laura slamming down hard on the brakes as the tires kicked up a cloud of dust around the familiar, crumbling building that housed Cassandra’s lair. The sudden stop jolted you forward, and you nearly collided with the seat in front of you if not for the quick reflexes of Blade, whose arm shot out to stop your momentum. You grumbled a quick thanks, brushing it off, and reached for the large gun that had been resting in your lap. One of the few perks of this whole shitshow—you didn’t often get to play with the big guns, and if nothing else, it felt like a small consolation.

As everyone climbed out of the car, you handed the weapon off to Blade, who took it without a word, slinging it over his shoulder like it weighed nothing. The man was a walking tank, and right now, you were glad for it. He gave you a quick nod before positioning himself in front of the building’s reinforced doors, aiming the launcher with ease.

The explosion rocked the world around you, the blast of heat and debris tearing through the air as the doors caved inward. Smoke and dust billowed out from the entrance, and you took a deep breath, letting the acrid scent fill your lungs. This was it. Showtime.

As the rest of the group began to prep for the inevitable fight ahead, you checked your own weapons, making sure everything was in place. Your heart was pounding, but it wasn’t fear. It was focus. You weren’t afraid of the fight; you were afraid of what came after. Of what this would mean for all of you—if any of you survived.

Just as you were about to rejoin the others, a hand grabbed your arm, firm and unyielding. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. The grip, the warmth, the silent insistence—it was Remy, and the moment you felt his touch, your chest tightened with a mix of irritation and something else you didn’t want to name.

“Now’s really not the time, LeBeau,” you snapped, trying to pull your arm free, but his grip tightened just enough to keep you in place. His usual playful demeanor was gone, replaced with a seriousness you weren’t used to seeing from him.

“We gotta talk,” he said, his voice low but calm, though there was an edge to it. Something urgent.

You glared at him, shooting him a look you hoped would make him back off. “About what? How you’re a pain in my ass?”

He didn’t rise to the bait. He didn’t even crack a smile. Instead, he stepped closer, his other hand reaching into his coat pocket. “Non, cher. ‘Bout what’s happenin’ between us.” His eyes flicked around, making sure none of the others were paying attention. “Whether y’want it or not, somethin’s goin’ on here. You feel it. I feel it.”

You opened your mouth to argue, to dismiss him, to tell him to shove his soulmate nonsense where the sun didn’t shine, but the words wouldn’t come. Because the truth was, he was right. You did feel it. You’d been feeling it from the moment you locked eyes with him in the Void. Some undeniable tug, some irritating pull that made your skin crawl and your heart race all at the same time.

Soulmates. The very idea made you want to scream. You were a loner by nature. You didn’t need anyone, and you sure as hell didn’t want to be tied to someone—especially someone like Remy LeBeau. Smooth-talking, arrogant, dangerous. Everything about him screamed trouble, and you’d spent your whole life avoiding that kind of attachment.

“Look,” Remy said, pulling something from his pocket and pressing it into your hand. “I ain’t makin’ it outta here, cher. You know it. I know it.”

You looked down at the object in your hand—a small, intricately carved token, old and worn by time. It was warm to the touch, like it had been held close for longer than you could imagine. You frowned, confused. “What’s this?”

“Somethin’ t’remember me by,” he said softly, his voice lacking its usual cocky edge. His gaze was intense, serious, like he was laying everything out on the line. “When this is all over.”

You wanted to laugh, to shove the token back at him and tell him to stop with the dramatic bullshit. But the weight of his words hit you harder than you expected. He wasn’t joking. He really thought he wasn’t going to make it out of this alive. And for some reason, that thought twisted something deep inside you.

You clenched your fist around the token, your throat tightening with something you didn’t want to name. “Don’t be so dramatic,” you muttered, trying to keep your voice steady. “You’ll be fine.”

Remy just smiled, but it wasn’t his usual cocky grin. There was something softer behind it, something sad. “Maybe,” he murmured, his fingers brushing against your arm before he pulled away. “But just in case… y’keep that.”

You stared at him, your mind racing, unsure of what the hell to say. Part of you wanted to shove the token back at him, to tell him to stop acting like this was some kind of final goodbye. But another part of you, the part you tried to keep buried deep, wanted to hold onto it. Just in case.

Remy sighed, his eyes meeting yours again, all traces of humor gone. “Look, cher,” he said quietly, his voice low and steady, “I’ll watch your back if y’watch mine. That’s all I’m askin’.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words sinking in. As much as you hated to admit it, you needed him. You needed someone in this hellhole. And he needed you. Whatever this thing was between you, it wasn’t something you could ignore anymore. Not now. Not ever.

“Fine,” you muttered, refusing to meet his eyes. “But don’t expect me to get all sentimental if you die.”

Remy chuckled softly, the sound low and rough, but there was warmth in it. A familiar warmth that you’d come to rely on, even if you didn’t want to admit it. “Wouldn’t dream of it, cher,” he said, his smirk returning, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes this time.

You rolled your eyes, shoving past him as you headed back toward the others, ready for the fight ahead. But as you walked away, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of that token in your hand, the smooth surface of it pressing into your palm. It was a constant reminder that, for better or worse, Remy LeBeau had gotten under your skin.

And no matter how much you hated it—no matter how hard you tried to keep him at arm’s length—you couldn’t escape the fact that you didn’t want him to die. You didn’t want to lose him. Not here. Not like this.

The fight was coming, and you weren’t sure who would make it out alive. But one thing was certain: whatever happened, Remy had become more than just a distraction. He had become something you couldn’t shake, something you couldn’t ignore.

And the worst part? You weren’t sure you wanted to. The battlefield stretched out before you, a wasteland of cracked earth and swirling dust, the wind kicking up debris that stung your skin and lodged in your lungs. Across from you, Cassandra’s army of mutants stood like a wall of bodies, their faces twisted with grim determination. Behind them, shimmering like an impossible dream, was the portal—the gateway home. The one thing standing between you and whatever life you had left outside of this nightmare.

You clenched your fists, feeling the tension coil in your shoulders, the weight of the impending fight pressing down on you. You’d been in battles before—plenty of them—but this was different. This wasn’t just a fight for survival. This was the final battle. The endgame. One way or another, everything would be decided today.

The wind howled around you, carrying with it the scent of blood and dust. To your left, Wade stood unnaturally still, his usual frenetic energy dialed back to something cold and sharp. Even Deadpool knew when shit was about to get real. To your right was Remy, and of course, he wasn’t silent.  He was never silent.

“You know how long I been waitin’ for this?” Remy’s voice was a low rumble beside you, thick with that familiar Cajun accent that always seemed to carry a hint of mischief, even in the worst situations. You could feel his eyes on you, but you didn’t look at him. Not yet. You weren’t sure if you could, not without wanting to slug that damn smirk off his face.

He was rolling one of his cards between his fingers, the soft glow of kinetic energy pulsing through it in rhythm with your own heartbeat. “Whoo, I’m ‘boutta make a name for myself here,” he added, his voice practically vibrating with excitement.

You hated how calm he was. You hated how you weren’t. This wasn’t a bar fight or some turf war with a few low-level thugs. This was war. The stakes couldn’t be higher, and the way home—if there even was one—stood just beyond a wall of enemies you weren’t sure you could break through.

The truth was, you weren’t sure if any of you would survive this.

You finally glanced at him, casting a sidelong look at the man who somehow always seemed unfazed, even when the world was on fire around him. His smirk was still there, infuriatingly casual, his red-on-black eyes gleaming with a mix of confidence and thrill for the fight ahead.

“You’re about to make a name for yourself?” you muttered, trying to keep the bitterness out of your voice, but failing. “Pretty sure ‘Gambit dies in a blaze of glory’ isn’t the legacy you’re looking for.”

Remy chuckled, low and smooth, flicking the card in his hand, watching it glow brighter before letting the energy fizzle out. “Oh, non, cher,” he said softly, not looking at you. “Gambit don’t go down that easy. Not today.”

There was something in the way he said it that made your chest tighten. On the surface, he was still the same cocky, infuriating man you’d been dealing with since this whole nightmare started. But underneath that confidence was something darker, something colder. He wasn’t telling you the whole truth. You knew it, and he knew you knew it.

You wanted to snap at him, to tell him to stop acting like this was just another job, another day. But before you could say anything, Logan’s gravelly voice cut through the tension, as blunt and unflinching as ever.

“I don’t think you guys walk away from this,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact, like he was talking about the weather. There was no sugarcoating in his words. There never was with Logan. You all knew what this was. Either you fought and won, or you died trying. There was no in-between.

And then there was Remy, standing beside you, so damn calm, so damn sure of himself. His confidence should have been reassuring, but instead, it just pissed you off. Because deep down, you knew. He wasn’t planning on walking out of this.

You stole another glance at him, trying to read the expression on his face. He was still smirking, still playing the part of the charming rogue, but there was something behind his eyes—something resigned. He knew he wasn’t making it out of here. He had accepted it. And that realization hit you like a punch to the gut.

All this time, you’d been so focused on surviving, on getting home, that you hadn’t stopped to think about what it meant for him. Remy didn’t have a life waiting for him outside of this. He didn’t have friends or family wondering where he was. He didn’t have anyone. Not anymore. The Void had taken everything from him—his home, his purpose, his future. And now, he was willing to give up the only thing he had left: his life.

But you? You still had something worth fighting for. You still had people waiting for you, a life waiting for you. And Remy… Remy was going to make sure you got back to it. Even if it meant he wouldn’t.

“You just make sure people remember what happened here today,” Remy said, his voice quieter now, more serious. “When you get out of here, you have a drink for me, yeah?”

When.  Not if. You swallowed hard, your throat tight. “You’re not dying here, Remy,” you said, your voice more forceful than you meant it to be. “You’re not pulling some heroic bullshit.”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he turned to you, and for the first time in as long as you could remember, there was no smirk, no bravado. Just Remy. His eyes were dark, serious, and there was something in his gaze that made your heart twist painfully.

“Y’got a whole life waitin’ for you on the other side of that portal,” he said softly, his voice steady but filled with a kind of finality that made your blood run cold. “Friends. Family. People who need you.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but he cut you off before you could get a word out.

“Me? I got nothin’, cher,” he continued, his eyes never leaving yours. “Ain’t nothin’ left for me out there. But you… you got everythin’. And I’m gonna make sure you get back to it.”

The sincerity in his voice, the quiet determination—it shattered something inside you. You wanted to tell him he was wrong, that he did have something left, that he had you, but the words caught in your throat. Because you knew, deep down, that he had already made up his mind.

Remy had accepted that this was the end for him. But his goal, his only goal, was to make sure you made it home. To make sure you survived. Because he believed in you. He believed in your future, even if he didn’t believe in his own.

You clenched your fists, trying to keep the emotion from spilling over, trying to keep your voice steady. “You don’t get to make that decision for me,” you said, your tone sharp, though it was more to keep yourself from breaking than anything else.

Remy smiled then, but it was a sad smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. “Ain’t no decision to make, cher. I’m just doin’ what I have to.”

The weight of his words settled over you, heavier than the air, heavier than the battlefield stretched out before you. He wasn’t trying to be a hero. He wasn’t asking for praise or recognition. He was just doing what he thought was right. And that scared the hell out of you.

“Remy—” you started, but he shook his head, cutting you off again.

“Don’t worry ‘bout me,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “Just promise me you’ll get home. That’s all I want.”

You stared at him, feeling a knot tighten in your chest. You wanted to scream at him, to tell him to stop talking like this was the end, to tell him that you wouldn’t leave him behind. But you couldn’t. Because the truth was, you weren’t sure you had a choice.

The wind howled around you, and the sounds of battle began to rise in the distance, but for a moment, it was like everything had fallen away. Just you and Remy, standing on the edge of the fight, staring down the impossible.

You nodded, your voice barely more than a whisper. “Fine. But you better not make me drink alone.”

Remy chuckled softly, and for a brief moment, the old smirk returned. “Wouldn’t dream of it, cher.”

And then, without another word, he turned toward the battlefield, his cards flickering to life in his hands, the kinetic energy crackling through the air. The fight was coming, and you both knew what had to be done.

But as you stared at his back, that small, carved token still clenched in your hand, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were losing something far more important than a battle.

You were losing him.

And you weren’t sure you could live with that.

You felt Remy’s hand brush against yours, his fingers lingering for just a moment before he pulled away. It was subtle, barely noticeable, but in that brief contact, something shifted inside you. It grounded you, anchored you to the present, reminding you that despite everything—despite the chaos, the fear, the uncertainty—you weren’t alone in this. Not entirely.

You didn’t want to admit it, but he was right. Something was happening between you. Something that terrified you as much as it pulled you in. It was that unspoken connection, the kind that lingered just beneath the surface, simmering between stolen glances and moments like this.

But now wasn’t the time to dwell on it. You couldn’t afford to think about whatever this was, not with a battlefield stretched out before you and an army of enemies charging forward. Now was the time to fight. To survive.

“I’ll watch your back,” you muttered, your voice low, almost lost to the rumble of the earth beneath your feet. You cast him a quick glance out of the corner of your eye, the words feeling like a promise you weren’t sure you could keep. “But don’t expect me to hold your hand.”

Remy chuckled softly, but this time there was a warmth to it, something softer, something almost grateful. That smirk was still there, but it was tempered by something more genuine.

Your grip tightened around your weapon, knuckles white as adrenaline surged through your veins. The fear was there too, of course. It always was, lurking in the back of your mind. But this time, it felt different. It wasn’t paralyzing. It was… clarifying. You were scared, but there was a strange sense of focus that came with it, a razor-sharp awareness of what you had to do. You were going to fight like hell. You were going to give every last piece of yourself to this battle, because that was the only way any of you were getting out alive.

And maybe—just maybe—you’d make it out after all.

But if you didn’t?

At least you wouldn’t be going down alone.

You stole a glance at Remy again, this time allowing yourself to really look at him. His eyes were fixed ahead, scanning the battlefield, but there was a calmness to him that you envied. He seemed perfectly at ease, even with the odds stacked against you. That cocky grin, the one that usually grated on your nerves, was still there, but now it felt like a lifeline. As if his confidence could somehow carry you both through this.

You didn’t know how he did it—how he managed to stay so calm when everything was on the line. Maybe it was just who he was, or maybe it was because he had already accepted something you were still struggling to grasp.

He didn’t expect to make it out of here.

You could see it in the way he moved, in the way he spoke. He wasn’t fighting to survive. He was fighting for you. To make sure you got out. He had nothing left outside of this, no life to return to once the Void spat you all back into whatever reality waited on the other side. But you? You had a whole world waiting for you. Friends. Family. People who would miss you if you didn’t make it back.

And Remy—damn him—he was preparing to make sure you did, even if it cost him his life.

The thought twisted something inside you, a knot forming in your chest that tightened with every passing second. You didn’t want him to sacrifice himself. You didn’t want to lose him, not after everything you’d been through together. But you could see it in his eyes, in the way his fingers flexed around the cards he held, the way the energy crackled faintly at his fingertips. He had already made his peace with it. He was ready to die here, if that’s what it took.

And you hated him for it.

But you also couldn’t help but feel something else—something raw, something deep that you didn’t have the time or the courage to name. It was fear, yes, but not for yourself. It was the thought of losing him that terrified you more than the thought of your own death. Because for all the walls you’d tried to build around yourself, for all the distance you’d tried to keep, Remy had found a way in. He had gotten under your skin, and now the idea of a world without him in it was suddenly unbearable.

You clenched your jaw, steeling yourself against the emotions threatening to bubble to the surface. Now wasn’t the time for this. Now was the time to fight.

The roar of Cassandra’s forces grew louder, and you could see them now—mutants of all shapes and sizes, some familiar, others grotesque and twisted by whatever dark experiments she had been running in her lair. They moved like a single entity, a wave of destruction hurtling toward you, and the ground shook with the force of their charge.

“Here they come,” Logan growled, his claws extending with a metallic snikt as he moved into a crouch, ready to tear into whatever came his way.

Wade, his usual chatter silenced for once, cracked his neck and flexed his fingers, twin katanas gleaming in the dim light. Even Deadpool, the king of chaos, seemed focused, his usual madness replaced with a deadly precision.

You took a deep breath, your weapon steady in your hands. This was it. The final stand. You weren’t sure if you were ready, but it didn’t matter. The fight was here, and there was no turning back.

Remy shifted beside you, his voice low as he spoke, barely audible over the approaching onslaught. “Whatever happens, cher, y’keep movin’. Don’t stop. Don’t look back.”

You wanted to argue, to tell him that you weren’t leaving him behind. But the words caught in your throat, because deep down, you knew what he meant. You knew what he was asking you to do.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” you muttered, your voice rough with emotion you couldn’t suppress. “I’m not dragging your ass out of here if you get yourself killed.”

He smiled, that damn smile that you had come to rely on more than you wanted to admit. “Wouldn’t ask you to do no such thing.”

The mutants were close now, their snarls and battle cries filling the air as they surged forward. You tightened your grip on your weapon, every muscle in your body tensing in preparation for the fight of your life.

<><><><><><> The battle raged around you, wild and chaotic, but somehow, in the eye of the storm, you and Remy moved like you’d been doing this for years. It didn’t make sense. You’d only met him days ago, thrown into this insane mission with no time to adjust, no time to learn each other’s rhythms. And yet, here you were—fighting side by side like you’d been doing it your whole lives.

There was no hesitation. No second-guessing. Every move you made seemed to align perfectly with his. When he swung his bo staff in a wide arc, you were already ducking beneath it, taking out the legs of a mutant charging toward him. When you threw a punch, he was right there, using the momentum of your attack to spin and deliver a charged card toward another group of enemies. It was an unspoken understanding, an instinct, like your bodies just knew how to work together.

You didn’t need to talk. There was no time for words anyway. But you didn’t need them. Every glance, every shift in stance, communicated everything you needed to know. When Remy saw an opening, you were already moving to cover it. When you took down an enemy, he was already preparing for the next. It was like your instincts were perfectly tuned to complement each other, like two sides of the same coin.

A massive mutant lunged at you, and before you could react, Remy was there. With a quick flick of his wrist, he sent a charged card flying straight at the attacker’s chest. The explosion knocked the mutant back, and without missing a beat, you stepped forward, grabbing another by the throat and slamming him into the ground with your enhanced strength. The impact shook the ground beneath you, and Remy flashed you a quick grin.

The battle wore on, the two of you cutting through Cassandra’s forces as if you were made for this. But then, you started to feel it—fatigue. It was creeping in, despite your strength, despite the adrenaline. And you could see it in Remy too, the way his movements were just a fraction slower, the way his breathing had started to quicken.

Remy noticed it too. He glanced at you, his sharp eyes scanning the battlefield, then darted toward you, grabbing your arm. “It’s time to go,” he said, his voice urgent but steady. He nodded toward the steps leading up to Cassandra’s lair, where Logan and Wade were waiting, keeping the path clear. “You get up those damn steps, cher. Now.”

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. “What about you?”

“I’ll hold ‘em off,” he said, already turning back toward the approaching mutants. His fingers twitched, and a handful of charged cards appeared between them, glowing with purple energy. “Just get home.”

You wanted to protest, to tell him that you weren’t leaving but you couldn’t. Hey,” he said, his voice low but urgent. “I got you covered, cher. You just get yourself home.” He gave you a small, reassuring smile, but there was something heavy behind it—something that made your chest tighten. “Don’t worry ‘bout me. I’ll take care of this.” Your heart clenched in your chest, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. He was telling you to leave—telling you to go without him. But every instinct in your body was screaming at you to stay. You didn’t want to leave him. You didn’t want to walk away and leave him to fight alone. The thought of it made your stomach twist, a cold dread settling in your bones.

No.

Not after everything. Not after the way things had shifted between you over the last few days, the way this connection had formed—slowly at first, almost imperceptibly, but now so strong that it was impossible to ignore. You couldn’t leave him. Not like this.

“No,” you started, shaking your head, your voice barely audible over the sounds of battle. “I’m not leaving you behind, Remy. We can—”

“Non,” he cut you off, his hand tightening slightly on your arm, grounding you. His voice was gentle, but firm. “You have to go. The portal’s waitin’. You stay here, and none of us make it out, cher. I’ll hold ‘em off. You just make sure you get through dat portal. Get yourself home.”

His words were like a knife twisting in your gut. Every fiber of your being wanted to stay with him, to fight beside him until the end. But you knew, deep down, that he was right. If you didn’t go now, you wouldn’t get another chance. And this whole mission—everything you’d fought for—would be for nothing. But knowing that didn’t make it any easier.

Your body was screaming at you to stay, to be with him. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your mind racing with every possible reason to fight by his side just a little longer. But your feet felt like they were stuck in place, frozen in that horrible moment of indecision. You didn’t want to leave him. You couldn’t leave him.

It hadn’t started like this. It hadn’t started with this painful, gut-wrenching pull to stay by his side at all costs. When you first met him, all you’d seen was the cocky grin, the casual swagger of someone who didn’t take anything seriously. He had been infuriating, reckless, too damn sure of himself for someone thrown into a life-or-death situation. You had tried to keep your distance, tried to focus on the mission, on survival. But Remy had a way of getting under your skin, of making it hard to ignore him, no matter how hard you tried.

You couldn’t pinpoint when the feelings had started to change, when the walls you’d built between the two of you had started to crumble. Maybe it was the night you’d both nearly been taken down by Cassandra’s forces, huddled behind the wreckage of a vehicle, breathing hard and bleeding, but laughing anyway because for a moment, against all odds, you were still alive. Maybe it was the way he’d reached out to steady you, his hand warm and solid against your skin, his eyes holding yours just a second longer than necessary.

Or maybe it was something deeper, something that had been building all along. A connection that went beyond words, beyond glances, beyond the battlefield. Something neither of you had asked for, but that had grown between you anyway, slow and steady, until you couldn’t deny it any longer.

But now, in this moment, that connection felt like it was being torn apart.

Before you could say anything else, Logan’s gruff voice cut through the chaos, sharp and urgent. “It’s now or never!” he shouted from the steps leading up to Cassandra’s lair. “We gotta go, now!” His eyes locked onto yours, and you could see the urgency in them. He wasn’t asking. He was telling you—if you didn’t leave now, you’d never make it home.

Your heart twisted painfully in your chest, torn between the need to survive and the desperate pull to stay with Remy. You hesitated, watching him for a moment longer, your eyes searching his face for something—anything—that would make this easier. But there was no easy answer. There never was.

Remy met your gaze, his eyes softening for just a second, and in that moment, something passed between you. An understanding. He gave you a small nod, a silent acknowledgment that this was it—this was the last time the two of you would see each other. And even if neither of you said it out loud, you both knew what it meant.

It felt like your heart was being torn in two, but there was no time left. You had to go. You had to make it through that portal. And he? He was making sure you had the chance to do it.

“I’ll be right behind you,” Remy said, his voice calm, but there was something in his tone that told you he didn’t believe it. He was saying it for your sake, to make the choice easier. “Don’t worry ‘bout me, cher. Just get home.”

You swallowed hard, your throat tight, every part of you wanting to argue, to stay, to fight beside him. But you nodded, knowing you didn’t have a choice. Logan was right. It was now or never.

Reluctantly, you turned and started toward the steps, where Wade and Logan were waiting. The sounds of battle faded behind you, but your mind was still with Remy, your heart aching with every step you took away from him.

As you reached the top of the stairs, you couldn’t help yourself. You turned back, just for a second, just to see him one last time.

There he was, standing in the middle of the battlefield, his bo staff spinning, his charged cards lighting up the sky with their brilliant purple glow. He fought with the same reckless confidence, the same fluid grace that had drawn you to him in the first place. But now, there was something more—something final in the way he moved. He wasn’t fighting to survive anymore. He was fighting to give you the chance to make it out.

Your heart clenched painfully in your chest as you watched him, your body screaming at you to run back to him, to stay with him. But you couldn’t. You couldn’t.

And then, just before you turned away, he looked up, meeting your eyes across the battlefield. For a moment, everything else faded—the sounds of battle, the weight of the mission, the urgency of your escape. It was just you and him. One last look. One last connection.

He gave you that damn cocky grin, the one that always seemed to say he had everything under control, even when you knew he didn’t. And then he nodded, a silent promise, a final goodbye.

Wade grabbed your arm, pulling you toward the portal, his voice distant in your ears. “Come on. It’s time.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, and turned away from Remy, your heart heavy. You reached the top of the stairs, prepared to face Cassandra. The last battle to fight before you got to go home.

And that was the last time you saw him.

At least… until now.

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

moon song - m. murdock

a/n: oh boy. uh. thanks for all the love on my last fic, so i decided to give you an incredibly angsty fic. this one is for all my male readers but honestly i want everyone to read it so. as always, reblogs, feedback and comments are always appreciated! warnings: internalized homophobia, cursing, infidelity, angst, hurt/no comfort, casual homophobia (teasing not anything insane) catholic guilt and symbolism, bisexual karen page, i'm not an elektra anti, making out, alcohol to cope, reader has a lot of coming out moments word count: 3.4k summary: you hate that elektra and matt are getting married. will you convince him not to go through with it? can you? pairing: matt murdock x male!reader now playing: moon song - phoebe bridgers "and if i could give you the moon/i would give you the moon/you are sick/ and you're married/and you might be dying/but you're holding me like water in your hands"

You’re in Josie’s when they realize. It’s like any other night, Foggy to your left, Karen to your right, as you watch Matt and Elektra play pool together. You take another swig of your whiskey, and tap your fingers on the glass, desperately attempting to try and listen to what Karen and Foggy were laughing about.

Two more weeks. That’s all you have to do.

In two weeks, Matt and Elektra will be married, and that’ll be that. They’ll live forever in their New York penthouse, fighting criminals and having beautiful children. That is their fate, and you’ll give your best man speech at their wedding.

All will be well, and you can bury your feelings deep down under alcohol and other women. No one will ever know what you really think of the happy couple.

You’re happy when Matt beats her at pool and they head back over to your table, where they absolutely hang over each other.

“We’re gonna head out.” Elektra says, a slightly drunken smile on her face. Matt hums and presses a kiss to her cheek.

“Meeting with the florist tomorrow.” Matt tells you all.

“I’m going to grab another drink,” You announce, and look at them. “One for the road?” Matt smiles at you, and for a moment, you think he must know.

“I’ll come grab one with you.” He turns to Elektra to ask if she wants one, but she shakes her head.

“I have to finish this one.”

So, you and Matt head over to the bar, his hand on your arm. You wonder if he knows.

“You seem distracted,” he tells you, and you figure you’re caught.

“Just working on my best man speech. It’s all up here.” You tap your forehead. You order two shots for the pair of you and take them quickly with your best friend. “Getting excited?”

“Yeah, it’s just kind of crazy. I’m nervous, is all.. And she seems to be totally fine with the whole thing.”

You bite back a bitter comment about both of their commitment issues.

“I think she’s just as nervous as you are.”

“I can hear heartbeats. Trust me, she’s not.”

“But you’re in love with her, right?”

If you weren’t so drunk, maybe you would catch his moment of hesitation.

“Yeah.”

“Then what more do you need?”

“You’d marry someone just because you’re in love with her? That’s all you need?”

Not just someone. You know who you’d marry.

“That’s all I need, Matty. You think too much. Have another shot.” He laughs at this and pats your shoulder.

“I think you’ve had enough.”

“Says you, I’m a bachelor, still.”

“So am I—For the next two weeks.”

“And yet,” a voice says behind you, “You’re still accounted for.” Elektra says, approaching the pair of you at the bar.

You both turn to her. You’re drunk enough so you don’t tense.

She hands Matt his jacket, and they link arms. Jealousy fills your mouth, and it tastes like venom.

“Elektra.” You smile and nod to her.

She says your name before adding, “Have a goodnight.”

“Goodnight.. Get home safe, Matt.” You say, smiling at them as they leave.

You turn back to the bar, where your smile falters. You take a seat, resting your head in your hands. You’re not drunk. That’s not what this is. When you look up, Josie is there and hands you another whiskey on ice and sends you this knowing wink.

Your face burns, and you nurse your drink. What did she know about your life? You only spent every Friday and sometimes Saturdays here. You sit there in your pity for a while, thinking about it all. You’ll plan a vacation for when they get home from their honeymoon. You’ll fuck someone you’ll never see again and by the time you get back home, you’ll be over it.

You’ll be the godfather to their first child; Matt will be the best man at your own wedding. You’ll live the rest of your life with this deep dark secret that no one, not even your best friend, will ever know.

Except, you forget that Karen and Foggy are in the bar too. They slide into the seats next to you and just look at you for a while.

“I might be tipsy, and I might not have super senses, but I can tell you’re looking at me. What is it?” You finally pick your head up and look at them.

“I figured it out.” Karen says.

You’re too drunk for this.

“Figured what out, Miss Page?” You ask.

“Me too,” Foggy adds. “And to think, you almost had us.”

“What?”

“The bachelor life. The one-night stands. The constant rotating door of girlfriends because you can’t have the one you actually want.” She continues.

You feel sick. How did they know?

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You say, as neutrally as possible but it comes out defensive.

Then Foggy says it.

“You’re in love with Elektra.”

And you stop. They think they have you. Then, you start laughing. Like a crazy person, like it’s the funniest thing you’ve ever heard. God, it’s so dumb. You’re just that good at hiding it.

“Nice try, guys.”

“We saw the way you were looking at her while they were playing pool! That’s why you’ve been acting so weird since they got engaged.” Foggy reasons. You know what it looks like.

You took another sip.

“That’s because I’m not in love with her,” Elektra is intelligent, beautiful, and funny. Anyone would be lucky to have her, you’re sure. But you hate that she’s happy for another reason. “It’s because I’m in love with Matt.”

• • •

You’re nineteen years old. You work at a pizza place between semesters, with Matt often coming to visit you. You’re best friends, and he likes to come in, grab a slice and a diet coke, have you take your break with him, and then leave.

One day, he’s late to do this routine and an older coworker says to you, “Where’s your boyfriend?”

Your face burns.

“He’s not my boyfriend, asshole! I’m not gay, I wouldn’t ever dream of it!” You had said, a story you’ve told others and yourself so many times that it doesn’t feel like a lie anymore.

Matt walks in a few minutes later.

The truth is, if you’re honest with yourself, you’ve had feelings for Matt for a long time. Ever since you met him at church one Sunday, you’ve felt this need to be closer to him, to be with him all the time.

You knew what it was then, just like you know now. And just like now, you hated yourself for it.

But it got worse over the years, in a way that you just couldn’t push down like you had done for so many other people.

You became a nurse and when Matt became Daredevil, he used this fact to his advantage. And for a long time before this, you were able to keep how you felt about him at bay. You were able to just be his best friend, and nothing more.

But he crawled into your window one night, drunk on pain and whimpered as he asked you to stitch him up. By the time you were done, he laid there half naked on your couch, and your hands were covered in his blood.

You felt guilty for wanting him while he lay there, wounded. But in another way, you felt baptized, relieved that you were allowing yourself to accept a truth that you had denied for so many years.

And it got worse from there.

After admitting to yourself that you had feelings for him, it became prevalent that there was no going back.

You stopped by the office for lunch this one time and you walked into his office to see him lounging casually at his desk, tie half undone, sleeves rolled up, and hair slightly disheveled. You scolded yourself for being so into him.

And then he got back together with Elektra.

For a while, you figured this was a good thing. A great thing, even. Matt would date Elektra and you could move on, maybe admit to yourself that you liked guys and start dating more of them.

And it worked, for a little bit. It was easier to not love him when he was around Elektra because of how obviously happy he was with her.

Then they got engaged.

You were so angry at yourself for letting it happen, so angry at yourself for not saying anything, angry at him for not noticing, angry at him for not wanting you.

So, you started to date other girls.

And this is how you lived for so long, dating women you didn’t like in favor of burying the immense love you felt for your best friend. Until last week, when you broke up with your girlfriend because you just couldn’t take it anymore.

There would be no telling Matt, sure, but there would be no telling anyone how in love with him you were, there would just be you, coming out and dating men that eased the longing for him.

Until that night at the bar, when Foggy and Karen catch you in this vulnerable state.

They walk you home from the bar that night, as you slip into a drunker and drunker mind. You won’t remember anything after that confession in the morning.

Karen hands you your pajamas and a glass of water. She helps you into bed and holds you as you cry.

“Will he ever know how much I love him?” You ask, drunk and in a different pain Matt was in that night you stitched him up.

Karen shushes you gently and tells you she’ll call you in the morning.

You don’t remember saying that in the morning. All you know is that you’ve made an immeasurably stupid mistake by telling them.

• • •

On Monday, you have off because you worked a 12-hour shift the night before.

Foggy sends you a text asking you to bring them dinner while they work on some cases.

You oblige, ready to push down your feelings until the next time you’re drunk.

But when you get there, you don’t see Matt. You assume he’s in another room, grabbing coffee. You hold up their dinner.

“Hey guys, I brought Chinese.” You tell them, sitting at the table after handing them the bag. You lean back in your seat, keeping your cool.

“Why didn’t you tell us you’re in love with Matt?”

You snap back up.

“I’m sorry, can you be a little more discrete, considering the man has super hearing?!”

Karen rolls her eyes.

“He’s not here. He left a little while ago to go pick up his tux.”

Your jaw clenches, jealousy sewing the hinges shut.

“I didn’t even realize you were into guys.”  Foggy says.

“That was intentional. I never really.. developed feelings for any other guys. Matt is just..” You look down at the chopsticks you’ve been twirling in your fingers. “I just see him and there’s nothing I want more than to just have him, nothing more than to just beg him to want me.”

Karen and Foggy both know the feeling.

Because it’s no secret that Matt is this alluring force of nature especially when it comes to his charisma and determination. Everyone either wants him or wants to be him, and its why Elektra is so perfect for him. They’re similar people.

And who are you? Some nurse who can’t even admit when he’s got it bad for his friend.

“You should tell him before the wedding.”

You scoff at the idea.

“And ruin our friendship? Ruin his wedding day? I’d rather see him happy and oblivious than lose him completely.”

But Karen and Foggy know you well and can see how this is starting to wear on you. You’re losing yourself grieving something that could never have been.  

“You owe it to him and to yourself.”

“I don’t. I know you guys’ care, and I appreciate it. But there isn’t anything to do. Matt and Elektra are going to get married because they love each other and that’ll be that.” You tell them. “Matt won’t ever know how I feel, and I’ve made peace with that. He wouldn’t want me and I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

“But how do you know—” Karen starts, but you cut her off.

“Matt’s never expressed any interest in men, and to my knowledge he’s never been with any.”

Then, Foggy says something that haunts you.

“That’s what we thought about you before Friday.”

And it rattles within you, all throughout your body and your brain.

It stays with you throughout the night, and into the next day.

You can’t get it out of your head.

Maybe you could tell him. Just tell him and add on if he doesn’t feel the same, to forget you ever said anything.

And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself hope.

You lay in bed that night and fall asleep thinking about it. About if he’ll say yes, if he’ll kiss you like you wanted him to.

You spend days with this thought, with it rattling around. One day you wake up and are greeted by your calendar and see that the wedding is the next day.

You’re sick with nausea at the thought and realize how horrible of an idea it would be to tell him.

You pretty much spend all day, sick, staring at your suit and thinking about how horrible it would be to watch Matt get married to someone who isn’t you. In the church where you met. Not even knowing how much you want him.

You contemplate your options.

You could go to Elektra, beg her to call off the wedding and let you have him.

You could fake being sick, leave the country and block his number.

You could tell Matt the truth.

You opt to call Karen.

“I don’t know what to do.” You say, this vulnerability in your voice that you wouldn’t show normally.

“Oh..” She says your name softly. “Do you love him?” She asks.

“Karen..”

“Do you?”

“Yeah. You know I do.”

“Then tell him that.”

“What if he wants nothing to do with that?”

“Then at least you know.”

And then you ask her the real question that terrifies you.

“What if he does?”

“What?”

“What if he wants me like I want him? What do I do then?”

She wants to ask you, who cares? If Matt wants you just as desperately as you want him, what matters after that? But she felt this way towards Matt Murdock once, so she knows how horrible it is. And she’s fallen in love with women she can’t have before, so she understands.

“Then let yourself be happy.” Is her answer.

• • •

The day of the wedding comes.

You think you might be more nervous than either of them.

You sit with Foggy and Matt in the basement of the church, sipping a whiskey. Matt has his scotch, and Foggy has his rum. The lot of you have rather distinguished tastes.

Matt looks so fucking good. Your heart races. Foggy sees your nervous look and finishes his drink, clearing his throat.

“I’m gonna go check in with Marci and see how everything’s going so far. We have to be up there in ten.” He reminds you. He turns and leaves.

You’re with Matt, alone in your feelings. He’s fixing his cuffs and tilts his head towards you.

“Why is your heart racing?” He grins. “I’m the one getting married.” You say nothing. You take another sip of your drink.

“You’re reading it all wrong.” You tell him. And that isn’t a lie. You’re on the verge of saying it.

“Whatever,” He chuckles. “Help me with my bowtie, please?” He hands you the untied bowtie and you take it. You take it and step towards him.

Your hands are shaking as you wrap the bowtie around his neck and tie it, with this gentleness reserved for only those who truly know you. You can feel his breath against your skin. It’s enough to make you lose your mind. Your fingers fumble with his bowtie, and when you’re done, you straighten it out a bit. He looks really good. He’s yet to close his suit jacket and put on his glasses, but he will soon.

“Matt..” You say softly. “You know I feel about you, right?”

He pauses.

“You’re my best friend.” He hums. “Of course, I do.”

Your hands rest on his shoulders. Your fingers twitch.

“No, It’s more than that.” You tell him. “I love yo—” You’re unable to finish your confession.

Because Matt is kissing you, his hands on your sides, and pushing you against the church basement wall. You melt into the kiss, your hands going up to cup his chin. You feel this swell inside of you, like your prayers have been answered.

Kissing this man you love; you’ve never felt closer to God.

He deepens the kiss, slipping his tongue between your lips and pressing his body against yours, ruining your perfectly unwrinkled suit.

He kisses you for a few moments more.

Then, he pulls away, but you bring him back for another one by his collar, and he happily obliges. Your hand goes up to the nape of his neck, playing with the ends of his hair. Then, he pulls away again.

“That was…”

He stands breathless before you.

“I know.” He finishes.

“What happens now?”

He has this confused look on his face.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what do we do next?” To you, it’s so obvious. He should go find Elektra, call everything off, figure out what it would look like to be in a relationship with you. He should say I love you back.

“I’m going to go upstairs and get married.” He says, like it should be the obvious answer.

“What? But you just—”

“I know what I did, but… I can’t…”

“You can’t? You just did.” You defend.

He grabs his glasses where he set them on the coffee table earlier.

“I’m sorry, but we just.. We can’t.”

“No! Not we, there is no we, right now, You can’t! I have been waiting for that for years and you kiss me like that, and you decide you can’t?” You spit out.

He nods.

“You’re right.” For a moment, you live in a world where you’ve convinced him. “There is no we.” He says and turns to the door to leave. You follow him, and before he can open the door, you’re grabbing him, turning him around. Your lips are against his as if to beg him to change his mind. He lets you think you’ve convinced him.

When he pulls away from the kiss, you whisper it out.

“I love you.” You say. “Please, don’t…”

He wants you to ask him not to get married. You won’t. He’d say no anyways.

He steps away from you, buttons up his suit jacket, fixes his bowtie and puts on his glasses.

“Come on, we have to go.” He tells you. He turns and steps out, grabbing his cane on the way.

He leaves you longing for more.

He might not ever give it to you, you realize.

The ceremony is beautiful, and these two will be happy together. It kills you. You watch your best friend get married after kissing him, and something in you is breaking all the while. You were wrong.  You should have told him earlier, you should have gotten over your fears, you should have kissed him so long ago.

You book a flight to the Bahamas for two weeks and take off work or as much time as you can. You just can’t watch the happy newlyweds. It’ll break you even more than it already is.

But at least you and Matt are still friends, right? That’s what this was all about? Keeping him in your life, even if it meant not having him in the way you wanted? You’re willing to give up your happiness if it means he’ll stay in your life.

You’re frustrated, too, especially because the kiss did nothing to deter your attraction, it just makes you want him in such a way that makes you sick.

You’re in love with Matt Murdock and he knows it.

It’s a shame his wife doesn’t.

[coweye]

The Worst Logan

Logan Howlett x Reader!Loganverse| smut | 5.8k words

Summary: You are the deceased-anchor-being-Logan's lover, having found yourself with Laura in the void, you navigate meeting the variant of the love of your life. Sweet dick kicking angst with gratuitous smut, cause we all know Logan eats pussy like a CHAMP. 😤

This is self indulgence at its finest, but it had be to done. 7-years ago, the movie Logan broke something within me that has finally been fixed! 🤠💕

Warning: Explicit - smut. canon death, depression, angst, spoilers for Logan / Wolverine and deadpool, cunnilingus, unprotected p in v, creampie, all the good stuff. 18+

The first time you see him again, the new him, the other him you mean. It’s in the cave accompanied by a man who talks far too much.

You recognise his voice in an instant when the mouth finally allows him to get a word in edgeways. His voice. 

You’ve heard it nearly every night for the past seven years. It's a few octaves deeper than you remember and filled to the brim with vitriol but it's definitely his. The realisation that your memory has been warped by time is a blow to the gut but you continue towards the sound all the same.

When finally you round the corner Logan stands before you in all his glory. For a moment you are rendered utterly unable to form a single sentence as he leans against the wall, a bottle of bourbon in his palm and adorned in yellow and blue.

Your mind can't reconcile this figure as the man you buried. He has the same sneer, the same broad shoulders, he even has the same stance - but Logan, your Logan, would rather die than wear that garish yellow suit and admit to being the hero he always was. 

His nose flares in what you believe to be recognition as he smells your presence, you allow your powers to retreat and reveal yourself. As your invisibility ebbs away Logan snarls in surprise as the talkative man in red gasps theatrically and begins jumping on the spot. 

Your fears are proven well founded when your eyes connect with his across the room, instead of the love and recognition, you find only open hostility and rage.

Your heart had bulldozed all logic, you were in the fucking void, of course it was a variant.

This Logan looks younger; his hair not so grey, his face unscarred and his eyes not so tired. 

This not-quite-Logan stares right back at you seemingly ill at ease with the stranger who is currently taking an inventory of his face. 

“Logan, that's them. It’s X-23 and Y/N, the one’s I told you about.” You graze your palm along your daughter's back in support as you come to stand beside her. 

“Her name is Laura.” It’s a knee jerk reaction; your correction. Your girl wasn’t the sum total of an experiment, she was her own person with her own thoughts and feelings, not a weapon to be utilised. 

The Wolverine’s gaze darts between the two of you, it’d be comical if you didn’t feel like you were about to regurgitate your lunch. They land on Laura, and linger there for a few moments, before they return to you, it's as if he’s trying to find you in her features. 

You barely hear the man you will later come to know fondly as Wade Wilson, question how you all ended up in the void.

“There was a knock at the door TVA sent me here, saying my world was dying … and I never even got the chance to fight for it.” Blade explains remorsefully. 

“They sent us here because they knew we’d put up a fight.” You utter distractedly, finally breaking your staring contest with Logan as he takes a swig from the bottle he’s currently white knuckling. 

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

“The answer is yes, I’m in.” Wade declares.

“In what?” Blade questions bemused by the man in red. 

“A team up, you me, me you, all of us together, lets get the fuck outta’ here.”

“Don’t listen to him, he’s a fucking liar!” Logan growls, furious at the other man. 

“It was an educated wish!”

“HA!” The loathing behind it makes you pause, he was so angry. 

The heat in his voice, the resentment, it burns you. You supposed even your Logan had his fair share of rage.  

When he arrived at the mansion all those years ago, fresh faced and wild, you had adored him even then, though Logan was far too preoccupied with Jean to notice the torch you carried for him back then.

It was ironic that It had taken the utter annihilation of the X-Men to bring you together. Charles’ accident had left the two of you as sole survivors. Over the years in hiding your ability to mould force fields managed to keep the worst of the effects of Charles’ seizures at bay, but Charles Xavier was one of the most powerful telepaths to grace the earth and your powers had limits. 

Those years were some of the darkest and yet the best of your life, you found yourself growing to love the man the world called The Wolverine.

You realise you’ve entirely tuned out Wade’s rousing speech and have spent the time analysing the man wearing your love’s face currently gargling bourbon though your name pulls you out of your reverie. 

“Laura, Y/N? What’s it gonna’ be girlies?” 

“Lets fucking go.” Laura agrees heartily, you simply nod still dazed. 

“YES! LET’S FUCKING GO!” Wade shouts back fist pumping. 

“You’re all fucking dead.”

Much later in the evening when the sun has finally set you seek him out. When you come across the father and daughter duo before the campfire you hold back, your skin slowly begins reflecting light, fading from vision as you call upon your powers to hide in the treeline. 

They both needed this and it wasn’t something you were about to get in the way of. They talk for a little while, before they part ways, both a little teary. Laura nods your way despite being unable to see you as she heads back to the cave, her nose just as keen as her fathers. 

So it shouldn’t surprise you a few moments later when you hear Logan's voice call across the clearing.

“You gonna’ stand there all night, Bub?” The man sounds utterly exhausted. 

You say nothing in response, only dismissing your powers and revealing yourself as you advance. You take Laura’s seat at the fire, not quite having the courage to look at him just yet. 

“You hear all that? Should mind your own damn business.” You remembered this Logan well, the one aching for a fight, desperate to shed his vulnerability and bloody his fists. 

“I didn’t hear a thing, Logan.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, you haven’t had to gentle parent The Wolverine in a while but it’s like riding a bike. “I wanted to let the two of you talk, she needed it and I think maybe you did too.”

“What do you fuckin’ know.” He growls dismissively, swigging from his bottle of what now appears to be scotch. “You can skip the speech and go back up, I’m not looking for company.” 

“I’m not here to tell you what to do, Logan.” Finally, you look away from the fire and find his eyes fixed on you, you swallow the lump in your throat before you speak. “I just wanted to see you.”

“See me?” He questions incredulously. “Well, keep the change, bub. Good night.”

Despite your smile at his words, you can’t help the tears that begin to cloud your eyes. Your mind and your heart have been locked in a constant battle since setting eyes on him. This man by all rights is Logan. The man you have mourned relentlessly and yet in every way that matters he isn’t.

“It’s like seeing a ghost.” Is the only explanation you can give him, his response is a stoic cheers with his bottle before he takes a deep gulp. 

Finally either his curiosity or the alcohol gets the better of him as he questions. “You her Mother?” 

“Yes and no.” His stare doesn’t leave your face as he waits for you to elaborate. “Her biological mother was a woman from Mexico City that the fuckers in the lab exploited, all we know is that she disappeared after giving birth. After … you … after everything that happened in North Dakota…” You trail off.

Your voice is suddenly thick and your words get stuck in your throat as you try to make them form. It's utterly embarrassing as you feel the traitor tears begin to form. 

A bottle of Johnny Walker enters your field of vision from where you sit staring at your clasped hands in your lap. Startled, you glance up to find the Wolverine standing before you, casting an impossibly large shadow as he holds out the bottle.

You accept the offering from his gloved hand, your fingers grazing his in the transaction as you take a swig or two (or three) before passing it back. He looks thoughtful when he places his lips on the place where your own had just lingered, as he retakes his seat. With amber courage coursing your veins, you continue. 

“She was all I had - if not for her, I-.” You wipe your nose, staring back into the fire. If it was a struggle to meet his eyes before, it was impossible for you now.  “I just couldn’t see the point in being alive anymore if everything just slowly gets stripped away; the X-Men, then Charles and then Lo-” 

You don’t know it, but you’re preaching to the fucking choir with your words. It was rare to find a soul, going through the exact same torture as yourself. Logan found himself softening to you, it was as involuntary as it was unwelcome, but he couldn’t help it as you described a battle so close to the one he fought daily. 

“-she reminded me what I had to live for. Laura she is fierce and so fucking kind; she is everything I loved about him.” You cut your trauma dumping to a swift end as you remember yourself. “So no, to answer your question. I’m not her biological mother, but she’s my daughter in every way that counts.”

Silence reigns for a moment as neither one of you knows what to say to the other. 

“You loved him?” Logan’s voice is deeper than before when he speaks the sentence. You raise your eyes from the fire to find his for the first time since you began monologuing. They’re filled with something you can’t quite name.

“I did.”

Logan seems to contemplate this, mulling it over as he continues drinking. Finally, he seems to reach some sort of conclusion.  “You should get some sleep, big day for you tomorrow.”

“Can I stay here … with you for tonight?” The words slip out before you really even mean them to. Tomorrow you might be going to your death and the ghost of the love of your life is here alive and real, what do you really have to lose?

Logan does a double take, not quite expecting those to be the words that leave your lips. “I’m not him, Darlin’.”

“No, I suppose you’re not.” You sigh, “but could you please just hold me whilst I sleep, James?”

A huge part of you expects him to tell you to fuck off back to the cave and leave him to his booze fueled pity party. However, against all odds, he doesn’t do that. 

Logan simply lifts the half full bottle of scotch to his lips and downs every last drop. He’s a little unsteady on his feet when finally he stands up to his full height and turns towards the blankets he’s laid out on the ground. 

“Fuck it.” He growls and drops himself like a sack of potatoes onto the pile with little regard for his own body. You’ve certainly had nicer invitations into his bed but when he waves you over with a lazy gesture, you can’t help but hurry before he changes his mind. 

Before you know it you’re tucked into Logan’s side. His gloved hand doesn’t quite seem to know where to go, more accustomed to brutality than tenderness these days as it hesitates for a moment suspended in the air. After some careful consideration he delicately places it on the dip in your waist securing you to him. 

Logan’s breath is uneven, though he’s doing his best to seem unaffected by your closeness. It has been years since someone has touched him with such easy affection and the way your body curls around his own as if it was created to do just that is driving him crazy. 

You are completely at ease with him, you trust him so entirely it almost breaks his fucking heart. Logan's stomach is heavy with something he can’t name, you fucking terrify him. Yet, he doesn’t move because you feel so fucking good as he holds you. 

It's scary, you realise, how easy it would be to pretend this was your Logan as you melt into his embrace. He smells exactly the same as you bury your face in his neck, the roughness of his beard feels the same pressed against your forehead. 

This Wolverine’s arms are a little fuller and his chest a little firmer, but he still holds you the same. You make a decision to not focus on such difficult philosophical concepts as variants and the morality of switching out your Wolverine. You decide to live in the moment, to just enjoy the furnace of his body keeping you warm and his arm encircling your waist protecting you from the world, it’s so easy to pretend that this was your Logan, so you do. 

And you fall asleep quicker than you have in years.

It is still night when you awaken, it's not quite dawn but the fire has burned out to a low smoulder. You’re not sure what has awoken you from the best sleep you’ve had in a long while, that is until you feel the arms wrapped around you and the sleeping Wolverine holding you in a death grip against his chest, his half hard appendage digging into your hip. 

Everything is still hazy; you’re floating in that sweet spot between waking and dreaming, you forget about North Dakota and, god forgive me, Laura. 

You’re back in your bed at home and Logan is holding you.

There's no my logan, new logan, old logan. 

He’s just Logan. 

You bury yourself deeper in his neck. 

It’s only for a moment though before it all comes flooding back and the agony overwhelms you like a blade to the gut. 

Instantly tears flood your cheeks as you shake from your silent sobs. 

“...Y/N?” Logan's voice is thick with confusion and sleep, his grip has loosened somewhat to allow you to breathe but he doesn’t release his hold on you. “What’s wrong darlin’?” 

That affectionate name is the last nail in the coffin it fucking ends you. 

All teary, and regrettably maybe a teensy bit snotty, you lean forward and kiss him. Kiss isn’t the right word but it’s your intention. Your lips touch one anothers before he’s pulling away and holding you back. 

“Y/n… Darlin’ you don’t want this… I’m not-”

“But you are Logan. You’re him just as much as he’s you.” Your hands rise to his jaw, running your finger along its familiar sharp edge. “You’re Logan.”

“Y/N… I’d be taking advantage…” His voice is firm yet gruff as he tries to inject reason into the conversation. As usual being the good guy he’s constantly telling everyone he’s not. 

“I am so goddamn sick and tired of being sad, please Logan.” This time when you capture his lips, he doesn’t rear back. You’re not sure what’s going through his mind, but his self control seems to snap within him as he begins returning the kiss in earnest.

Logan’s tongue swipes along your bottom lip begging entry, entry you swiftly allow. You’re breathing heavily through your nose as he plunders the depths of your mouth, exploring your mouth with his quick tongue. 

Deciding to make the next move you push yourself up, throwing a leg over him to straddle his lower stomach. He’s lifted the top half of his body to ensure he doesn’t lose your mouth, your teeth clash slightly with the movement and you can’t help a bubble of nervous laughter.  He pays it little mind though as he swallows the noise, his hands coming to rest on your hips. 

Instantly, you grind your hips downward on the growing bulge that lurks below. Logan lets out a deep groan at the friction and his hands on your hips raise to the bottom of your tee in response, his thick hands tugging at it requesting your permission.

Nodding, you pull back causing him to groan at the loss of your hot mouth on his. Though it's only for a moment as the second the tee is over your head, he’s back on you, only it's your bare neck he’s lashing with affection now.

Logan breathes in deep your scent mixing with the heady aroma of your arousal. He’s nipping and licking along the smooth skin, soothing his bites as quickly he makes them. It's the animal instinct within him, telling him to devour you entirely; make you his. 

“Logan…” You gasp, your eyes are clenched shut in pleasure as he bucks his hips upwards into your jean covered centre.  

Logan pulls back to take you in, writhing above him in the moonlight, you’re fucking beautiful, though the flash of familiar metal between your breasts catches his eye, unable to stop himself, he catches it in his fist. 

Dog tags; his old dog tags.

‘LOGAN’ is etched into the aged metal and they’re warm to the touch from living beneath your shirt over your heart. 

The realisation hits him like a freight train, not only was he loved by you, but for his other self to have given you these, he fucking loved you. 

He’s not sure why it didn’t occur to him before, that the other him was as devoted to you as you were to him. He’s not entirely sure how to feel about it, but he twists his hands, careful not to snap the metal string, but using it to pull you close. 

For the other dead Logan, the hero he’s heard so goddamn much about, he decides he’ll give you the treatment you deserve. 

As if you weigh nothing at all he flips you onto your back, his hands dropping the dog tags and falling to the waistband of your jeans. His dexterous hands undo the button so quickly, that your trousers are peeled from your legs before you know it, leaving you in an unimpressive unmatching set of underwear beneath his roaming eyes. Though Logan couldn’t give a fuck as he groans at the sight of your body exposed to him. 

Logan begins by kissing down your stomach before his hands linger on your black panties, he can't help but grin at the tiny barely there bow in the middle of them; you’re like a gift all wrapped up for him. 

His eyes lift to meet your own as he begins sucking at the fabric that's keeping your pussy from him, it's already damp with your arousal and by the time he finishes, absolutely sodden with his saliva.

“Logan, please…” you whisper desperately as your hands find his ‘tufts’ for a lack of a better word. They were new, but you liked them, plus they now seemed pretty functional. 

He takes only a moment to remove his gloves, before they return eagerly to your body. Those thick hands traverse the planes of your thighs, they’re quick in their passing as they make their way up to the waistband of your panties, he hooks them over his thumb and reveals your soaking core to his hungry eyes and he’s right back to wanting to fucking devour you, and boy, fucking does he. 

Enthusiastic, would be the word, earth-shattering would be another - the word to describe how Logan eats pussy.

Logan without much preamble dives into your centre, his tongue slips into your hot wet heat, lingering for a moment on your clit, circling it reverently before he dips that talented tongue inside of you. His nose knocks against your clit several times, each more delicious than the last as he utterly devours your pussy. He moans, grinding his hips into the dirt and readjusts pulling you closer, his thick muscled arms locking under your thighs as you buck against his mouth. 

You're a complete goner the second he slips a single long thick finger inside of you. 

“Fuck, Lo, I’m gonna-” 

“Come, baby... I got’ya.” He mumbles into your pussy. And fuck me, he does. He carries on lapping at you all the way through your orgasm, drawing it out of you like the pied fucking piper of pussy. It feels like you’ve been falling for hours by the time you finally come down, only Logan doesn’t allow you any reprieve before he’s back to lashing your clit with his quick tongue. Your hands find those faux ear tufts once more and he groans as you pull on them a little more sharply than you intend in your shock, in answer Two fingers bury themselves deep inside of you.

“One more.” He’s negotiating orgasms, but you have no qualms as he rubs his nose side to side with affection against your sensitive bud. His tongue and nose moving in pace with his fingers, currently fucking in and out of you. 

It's when he scissors those thick long fingers inside of you, hitting that spongy spot within you that makes your back arch. 

Your top half has left the ground, he grunts in annoyance, suspending your hips back to his mouth at the angle he likes. Those deep hazel eyes meet yours from between your thighs, crazed and animalistic, driven wild with arousal as he eats your pussy with gusto.

It's that image that thrusts you over the edge once more, your back hitting the ground as your body seizes, thrusting your hips against his mouth. 

Without any preamble a third finger joins stretching you deliciously. The hand not currently fucking you, leaves your hip to caress your stomach stroking the flesh there, not quite able to reach your breast. 

“Lo… fuck… yes… right… right fucking there.” You cry as he draws your second orgasm of the night out, only when you tug at his tuft due to overstimulation does he acquiesce and pull back, only of course, after cleaning up your gaping desperate hole. 

He sucks his fingers clean as he sits back on his knees, his cock thick and tenting against the yellow bottoms of his suit. Your arousal has soaked through his beard making his chin slick, he wipes it with a single swipe with the back of hand though, it does very little for his sodden chin. 

Tired of not touching him, you sit forward grabbing at his belt. It's a difficult contraption that confounds you, though Logan is far too wound up to find any humour from it. 

 He replaces your hands unbuckling the thing before finding the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head. 

There, finally in all his glory, he is exposed to you and you’ve never been a religious woman, but Mary mother of fucking christ, he is gorgeous. Logan’s chest is fucking… transcendant to behold, it's like he’s been sculpted by god herself, the light isn’t the best out of here, but you hope to god you don’t die tomorrow simply for wanting to take your time and lick each and every single one of those muscles on his stomach. 

Its your turn to leap forward onto your knees and join his mouth with yours, he tastes distinctly of you and his chin is still sodden, but you couldn’t give less of a fuck, you love the fact your desire is still marking his skin. 

Your hands trace the firm abs at your disposal, before dipping into his now open trousers and underwear to find him rock hard. 

If his physique impressed you, you had a big storm coming, because his cock was a fucking resplendant beauty and it was plain to see from the swelling Logan really liked eating pussy. 

Your fingers barely touched as you pumped him, once twice, spreading the copious amounts of precum along his shaft.

“Fuck.” He grunts into your mouth. You lean down, positioning yourself to take him in your mouth, though he stops you in your tracks grabbing your shoulder. “No sweetheart, I want your pussy.” You clench around nothing at his filthy words, this man will be the fucking death of you. 

You reach behind you and free your tits from their confines, another moan leaves his throat as he pushes you backwards. On his hands and knees he’s deliberate with every move as kicks the bottoms of his suit off as he prowls towards you.

Finally, he’s in between your legs naked as the day he was born. His hands are on your breasts, exploring the new plains exposed to him, playing with your nipples alternating between sucking and twirling them between his fingers. 

So lost in his skilled hands, you barely notice when one disappears to line himself up, it's a shock, the sudden intrusion, but not an unwelcome one as he thrusts himself forward and as deep as he can go. 

You moan his name into his ear, doing your best to keep your volume down.

He has prepared you well, you’re so worked up that he slides home through your tight slit. The sheer size of him means it's a stretch that borders on uncomfortable, but the second his hand finds your clit you’re clenching around him and grinding forward, desperate for more. Unable to control himself, his claws extend, he grunts pulling you close and thrusting them down into the ground. 

“Fuck, you’re tight.” He grunts into your neck, where he's busy lavishing the flesh once again with bites. Your neck is going to be black and blue tomorrow, but you can’t find it in you to give a single fuck.

The two of you are so fucking close his bare skin so deliciously hot against your own, but you want more, you need more.

Logan pulls his hips backwards, pulling out of you until only the tip remains before slamming home and spearing you wide open his cock. Your moans blend together as you lose yourself in each other's bodies.

Logan is worked up from eating your cunt, so it doesn’t take long for the sensation to hit him.

“Fuck, where do you want it?” He grunts into your neck, as his hand descends to rub quick circles on your clit. He pulls your ass up, making sure to hit the spot inside of you that makes your toes curl.

You know he’s teetering on the edge, desperate to make you cum before he does. 

“Inside - come inside me, baby.” You whimper into his neck as he pounds into you reaching your deepest recesses with his thick cock, his hammering, it’s unforgiving with his enhanced strength but it pushes him deeper into spots you couldn’t have imagined. He groans at your words, sounding every bit the wounded animal he is. Your shared groans and the sound of his balls slapping against your ass as he takes you again, and again is all that can be heard in the clearing. 

Finally as he joins your lips in a kiss, you come hard on his cock. Clenching around him as your body writhes uncontrollably. 

Logan adjusts his hold on your thighs, now he uses your body, drawing out your pleasure but ultimately chasing his own. The pace is fast as he grunts and groans erotically into your neck, he fucking growls as his hips stutter against your own, and you know you should be more careful, but the thought of him cumming inside you has you gripping his cock like a vice once more. You give him a tight sheath to come in, and he pumps you fucking full of his cum and its a big fucking load. Logan thrusts a few more times, pushing his seed deep inside of you as he claims your mouth once more.

You run your hands through his hair as he lets his body fall against yours, he’s supporting his own weight, thank god, you don’t think you could handle his muscle, let alone the adamantium skeleton. He’s still sheathed inside you as the two of you revel in the closeness.

The silence stretches on for an amount of time you can’t quite quantify. The two of you take in your surroundings, listening to the quiet of the forest, until your breathing has finally calmed down. 

Logan lifts himself up on one arm, and pushes your hair back from your face. You stare at him in the moonlight for a long moment, unable to help yourself as you trace his familiar features. His strong nose and the curve of his brow, your finger dances along his flesh. 

Logan’s eyes close, so touch starved he basks in your affection. 

“I-” Logan goes to speak, before you drop your finger on his lips.

“It’s okay. Whatever happens tomorrow, happens. I’m okay with it.” You smile at him, there's a chill to the air but you’ve got your Wolverine warming you up. “I just wanted one night to be about something other than death.”

He takes your hand from his lips and kisses along the back of it and up your wrist, though It's a slippery slope as he hardens inside of you again. 

Logan manages to pull two more orgasms out of you before dawn.

When your time has run out, the two of you finally dress, not wanting to be found in a compromising position. Logan curls his body around yours and buries his face in your hair as he spoons you from behind. 

Just when you’re just on the cusp of sleep, he finally speaks into the night. Logan opens up about his world tearfully, instantly you reach your hand down, finding his own thicker one resting on your belly and you intertwine your fingers with his. He tells you of the mutant hunting as you draw comforting circles on the back of his hand, it's not much, but it's more than he’s ever had whilst reliving his worst day. When he has finally bared his soul, the two of you fall back into silence. 

After what has been an emotionally, not to mention physically taxing night the two of you finally fall asleep if only for a few more hours, two incredibly damaged souls offering one another comfort.

It’s later in the morning when you finally awake. The sun has risen that much is clear but you're slow to awaken from your comfortable position in Logan's arms, his warm strong body coiled against your back fighting off the worst of the early morning chill, his face still buried in your hair as he snores peacefully.

There’s a sensation niggling at you, you think it's what woke you up in the first place; you can’t shake the sensation of being watched. 

Lazily you open your eyes, only for your heart to drop to your asshole when you find Wade Wilson about 10-inches from your face lying on his side, his head supported by his hand.

“Mornin’ sleepy head, have a good night?” You can hear the smile in his voice. 

“AGH!”  Unable to stop both your cry of fear and your fight or flight response in progress, you throw yourself backwards, your powers activating of their own accord, and slamming your body into Logan’s chest. He startles awake, with the telltale ‘snikt’ of his claws extending as he orientates himself, his arm coming out to block you from the threat, despite not being able to see you. 

After your brain catches up, you call your power back, but Logan doesn’t do the same, keeping his claws out seemingly ready to slice up his not-so-best friend. 

“Get the fuck outta’ here, Wade.” Logan growls harshly at the other man, his voice is filled to the brim with hatred.

“Hmph - this is what I get for acting altruistically. I thought a good stress relieving bone in the woods with your cherie amour would really sort out that bee in your bonnet, but you sir are just a very unpleasant man and I’m worried that-”

“WADE.” This time Logan’s voice is a threat as he shouts at the man. You place a hand on his muscled arm to steady him. Though he may have stopped your heart with his antics, Wade isn’t doing anything particularly outrageous.  Logan shakes your hand from his arm and allows his claws to retract as he stands. 

“Thanks for jumping to my defence there, Y/N. Great to meetcha bt-dubs, huge fan.” You’re disoriented from the wakeup call but you shake the hand he offers you.  Honestly, you’re still trying to process the head-fuckery of the past day, so you don’t have a quick response for him, though the mouth doesn’t seem to mind as he continues. “That mean lil’ lady is asking for ya’. Thought I’d come and check you and big yellow weren’t still bumpin’ uglies. Didn’t want her to see you and Papa going to town on each other's fun parts.”

“Uh - Thanks… Wade?” 

“That’s me.” He theatrically begins bestowing multiple kisses on the back of your hand he still had in his grasp, which you retract gently. “Oh, and we’re done.”

Pushing yourself up, you go to stand though Logan offers you his newly gloved palm. You lock your fingers around his and the two of you stand together, inches apart and your fingers still intertwined, neither quite sure what to say to the other. Wade’s ‘awh’ over your shoulder shatters the moment and he drops your hand instantaneously. 

After a beat or two Logan leans forward, placing a single solitary kiss on your forehead. “See ya’ around, bub.”

“Where’s my smooch, Logie-bear?”

“Go fuck yourself, Wade.” He calls as he walks around, Logan doesn’t look back as he heads off into the forest. 

You still had faith he’d turn up for the fight, Logan always turned up when it counted and you knew this time would be no different. 

“Hate to see him leave, but love to watch him go.” Wade sighs linking his arm with yours. 

“Mmh, You can say that again.” You agree with the clown watching Logan’s ass as he walks away, you swear you see his step falter thanks to his impeccable hearing, but he doesn’t turn back. 

The two of you turn and you begin walking back to the cave arm in arm with the strange man to prepare for the assault on Cassandra’s lair when Wade finally asks the question you know he’s been dying to ask since meeting you “So, Y/N just between us girls… how big is it?”

LOGAN TENDER HAIR TUCK SUPREMACY RISE. I'll use it in every fic, don't think I won't.

Thanks for reading xxx

Graphics by my pal - @saradika-graphics 💕

[imagine-you]

won't somebody come take me home? [Logan/Reader]

Summary: You've been abandoned to the Void after experiencing heartbreak in your universe. Instead of becoming food for Alioth or one of Cassandra's underlings, you find a new family with the resistance seeking to bring her down. When Johnny doesn't come back to the hideout, you keep watch in the hopes of seeing his return. Instead, you find a Deadpool variant fighting someone who looks achingly familiar. Someone who reminds you of your old life and the person who broke your heart. When you finally come face to face with a Logan after being pruned from your universe, you're not expecting the longing you're met with or the fact that in his universe, you were his wife. Word Count: 7.7k Author's Note: I've wanted to write for X-Men for so long and then I saw Deadpool and Wolverine and fell in love with Logan all over again. If you like this, please let me know! I'm so nervous about writing for a new fandom. And if you want to see more X-Men stuff from me, please let me know that as well! Reader's song for this is definitely I'm With You by Avril Lavigne, but I kind of imagine Logan's ends up being Hanging By a Moment by Lifehouse.

closer to where I started // all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me

Read on AO3

Everyone in the Void had a tragic backstory that was befitting a hero or villain or anything in between. You were the ones who were lost, abandoned, or forgotten by your worlds and the people you cared about more than anyone else.

You didn't remember much about how you got to the Void, but you had a pretty good understanding of why you were dropped into the barren wasteland for the multiverse's landfill.

Like most people in the Void, you were here because of heartbreak. The one person you had loved with your entire being had loved someone else. You had given him your all, but he only gave you a piece of himself. And when he ripped that piece of himself away, leaving you aching and broken, you were swept out like unwanted trash and right into the Void.

"What's got you so down today, ma chérie?" Remy dropped down into the chair at your side.

You huffed out a laugh that was nowhere near amused. "Besides the fact that we're all stuck here and trying to avoid Cassandra and her wandering fingers?" You brought your hand up and wriggled them in Remy's face, reluctantly letting out a laugh when he snapped his teeth at them.

"Ah, there's that smile," he mused, bumping his shoulder into yours. "You thinkin' 'bout your old life?"

You rolled your eyes, inanely feeling your throat tighten as you fought the urge to cry. You kept your gaze on the bottle of whiskey on the table. Remy reached for it, but he met resistance and turned a glare on you.

You shrugged your shoulders before dropping the forcefield. "I had a dream about him last night," you admitted with a scowl. "About what happened and how no one on my team had my back. How they all thought it was inevitable." You snorted before you quickly grabbed the bottle and took a swig, relishing the burn that traveled down your throat and sent warmth pulsing through your chest. You handed it over to Remy, ignoring his obvious annoyance.

"Listen, you're a lot better off now than you were with those fuckers," he consoled as he finally wrapped his hand around the bottle. "But don't go gettin' between me and my drink, now," he warned, his eyes briefly flashing red before fading away. "I'm not like those assholes who abandoned you. You've got nothin' to hate me for."

"You're real shit at pep talks, you know that?" Johnny cut in, knocking into Remy as he walked by. "Leave Y/N alone. She doesn't want to put up with your bullshit right now."

"And you suppose she wants to put up with yours? All you've got is bullshit," Remy taunted, idly twirling a card between his fingers. It was half a threat, but Johnny would only fight fire with fire and Remy knew it. Elektra had forbidden both of them from using their powers in the hideout, since they had almost burned it down last time.

"Will you both just stop?" You groaned, letting your head hit the table. Someone reached out to pat you on the shoulder, but you didn't bother to look and see who did it. "I love and respect you both dearly, but if you leave another scorch mark in here, then we'll all be in trouble."

Remy obediently stowed the card back up his sleeve while Johnny rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, whatever," he sighed before making for the door. “See you later.”

"Where are you going?" You called, watching him retreat.

"I'll be around," Johnny answered, shooting you a smirk over his shoulder. "I always come back, don't I?"

You didn't get a chance to respond before he was gone. You always worried about Johnny when he went on his little trips around the Void. He swore he would be careful not to run into any of Cassandra's goons, but you knew all of your days were limited. Whether it was Alioth or Cassandra or one of the many rogue Deadpools wandering around, it was only a matter of time before trouble found you.

Remy stood up and placed the half-empty bottle of whiskey in front of you. "Just this once," he allowed with a wink. "You appreciate that, though, you hear?"

"Thanks," you muttered before reaching for the bottle.

You spent the rest of the day trying to block out the dream while you trained with Laura.

You were so caught up in your own thoughts that you didn't realize you had company.

"Damn, what's got you so riled up?"

You turned to look at Eric, surprised to see him standing there. You then realized your knuckles had split open and you had trashed the makeshift punching bag you had made out of an old blanket and some sand.

"Nothing," you deflected, half-tempted to go invisible just so no one could see you. Even though he was wearing sunglasses, you knew you had his full attention and you didn't want another lecture on leaving your past behind.

No one on your team was good at that, but you were arguably the worst at letting your pain go.

You always hated when you dreamt about Logan. His last words to you echoing in your mind over and over. You hadn't been enough for him, but Jean? Jean was everything he wanted. You supposed your powers paled in comparison and you would never measure up when all you could do was conjure forcefields and become invisible. Logan had been in love with her from the first moment he laid eyes on her, but you had never seen that look on his face when he looked at you.

It was a pity that you had given Logan everything only to be cast aside for the one who truly held his heart.

If Johnny were there, he would have told Blade to mind his own business, but he still hadn't come back.

"Again," Laura prompted, drawing your attention towards the punching bag. It was half-demolished, but you figured you still had some fight in you.

You noticed her shake her head at Eric as you turned away and focused all your hurt into your fists, watching the bag fall apart.

Johnny hadn't returned by the next morning and you were starting to worry.

You considered everyone your family, but you had a special bond with Johnny. He had been the first person to welcome you to the resistance and you, specifically your powers, had reminded him of his sister. He opened up to you about how much he missed his team, his family, and you told him about the heartbreak you had endured in your universe.

"I'll tell you what, if I ever get my hands on your Logan, I'll light the fucker on fire."

You felt a laugh bubble out of you. It was the first time you had laughed in ages and it felt so good to know you could still find joy in things. "He'd just regenerate."

"Not when I'm done with him," Johnny promised. "I'll cook him 'til he's just a heap of ash and then you'll dance on his remains."

You shook your head, but let Johnny carry on with his elaborate plan for revenge on your behalf. Johnny would never meet your Logan and you knew you would never actually see him again. Everyone in the Void was forgotten and there was no escape.

"You worried about Johnny?" Elektra wondered, coming to stand at your side.

You were keeping an eye on the horizon, searching for any sign that Johnny was coming home.

"It's not like him to be gone this long without some kind of message he's okay.

"He's gotten this far, hasn't he?" Elektra pointed out, shooting you a reassuring look. "He'll be fine."

You nodded your head, but didn't budge from your spot.

"You plan on staying out here all night?" Elektra asked.

"If I have to," you admitted with a shrug of your shoulders. "What if he's in trouble?"

"Then you won't be any help to him sleep-deprived," she answered.

"I've had worse," you deflected with a forced grin.

Elektra sighed, but didn't try to dissuade you again.

You had a pair of binoculars Laura had scavenged and you were doing your best to keep an eye on your surroundings. You were surveying a forest when something caught your attention. You focused on the sight, wondering for a moment if Elektra had been right and sleep deprivation was messing with your mind.

You pulled the binoculars away and blinked a few times before looking through them again.

"Ah fuck," you groaned when you realized that what you were seeing was real.

"What's wrong?" Laura asked, startling you.

"Shit," you hissed, nearly dropping the binoculars. You handed them over and pointed towards what previously held your attention. "You see that?"

"Is that--?" Laura cut herself off before shooting you a disbelieving look. "It's him."

"With a Deadpool," you confirmed with a nod of your head.

"We should get them before someone else does," Laura suggested, handing the binoculars back to you.

You hesitated, knowing she was right, but hating the idea of seeing him again.

"I can go alone," Laura offered. You knew she also loved her Logan, but he had been like a father to her up until his final moments. Your Logan had managed to bring you nothing but pain and insecurity.

"No," you told her with a firm shake of your head. Johnny had gone off alone and now it had been almost two days since the last time you saw him. In the Void, that was as good as a death sentence. "I'll go with you."

You let the others know you were off to rescue two new recruits to the resistance and helpfully left out the fact that one of those people was a Logan variant.

Laura led the way and you followed in her tracks. You kept yourself invisible, knowing that if anyone came after Laura, then you could use your presence as a surprise. You had also learned to use your forcefields as a weapon as much as a defense and you were ready if anyone tried to attack.

Once you got to the station wagon, you let yourself become visible again. You slowly approached the car while Laura investigated the clearing for any signs that you might have been followed. You could see the Deadpool variant wrapped up in the seatbelts, but you couldn't help but let your focus stray to Logan.

He was different from your Logan, but seeing his face hurt all the same. Your Logan had taken everything from you and given nothing back except for pain. This Logan was a stranger, but he still brought up familiar feelings. Love and confusion and agony.

"Is he yours?" Laura wondered, finally joining you in your study of Logan.

"No," you assured her. "Mine would've never been caught dead in the yellow suit," you admitted with just the tiniest hint of relief. You never wanted to see your Logan again, but you couldn't help but admit to yourself that didn't mean you never wanted to see any other Logan. You were scared, terrified of the pain he might cause you, but you hadn't been able to let go of the love you held for him. You were sure, even in that moment, that you would love Logan in every universe. It was too bad he wouldn't love you just the same.

Although, you supposed you didn't really have a Logan. You never did, since the one from your universe was never yours in the first place.

Doubt and wariness began to creep in and you started to herd Laura towards the Honda you were half-sure belonged to the Nicepool variant. "You drive," you prompted, opening the passenger door seat and carefully sitting among the wreckage and blood that was practically painted on every surface of the car.

Laura started the car and you glanced over your shoulder, waiting for the two backseat occupants to stir, but they were both still knocked out.

"They really did a number on each other," you muttered, your gaze already back on Logan.

Laura was silent for long enough that you thought she was ignoring you. "It's not your Logan," she reminded you after a couple of minutes. You realized you were still watching him and finally forced yourself to turn around in your seat.

"It's not," you confirmed, studying your hands in your lap. You let them shift in and out of visibility, a nervous habit you had when you were torn between fight and flight.

"Then he's not the one who hurt you," she continued, keeping her focus on the path in front of you.

"He's not the one who saved you," you shot back. The way she looked at this Logan like she was seeing her savior miraculously alive all over again had felt like a punch in the gut. You were both mourning and the source of it had just dropped right back into your lives. "He might be worse," you pointed out.

"He might be better," she argued with a quick glance at you. "He might not even know us."

"Yeah," you sighed, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder, silently apologizing for being so defensive. "Eric's right," you conceded with a grimace. "I need to let it go."

"Hard to let something like that go," she allowed with a soft smile at you. She was the only one who knew the full story. Johnny knew most of it and the others knew enough, but Laura had loved her own Logan like family. She knew what it was like to lose him, albeit in a very different way.

When you got back to the hideout, Laura helped free Deadpool while you formed a forcefield around Logan and used it to lift him out of the car. Charles had claimed it was a form of telekinesis, but you always told him you were just controlling the forcefield. Whatever was inside it just happened to move with it. If you dropped the forcefield, then whatever was inside it would fall.

Laura dragged Deadpool inside while you let Logan hover through the air and into the hideout. Laura left Deadpool on the floor, but you were careful with Logan and let him hover just over the bed you used before letting him go.

Laura shot you a bemused look before going to let the others know you had company.

You weren't really sure what to do with yourself, so you settled for pacing from one end of the room to the other. You were halfway across the room when you heard a rustling noise behind you. You half-hoped it was Deadpool waking up, but when you turned around, it was to see Logan squinting up at the ceiling.

You froze, not daring to move a muscle. Logan blinked a few times before he began to sit up. He stopped and then tilted his head up, sniffing the air. You had always found the way he used his enhanced sense of smell adorable, even if no one else did. He suddenly turned and buried his face in your pillow, pulling in deep breaths. He reached up to clutch the pillow in his hand as he sat up, keeping it pressed to his face.

You weren't even really sure what was going on, so by the time he finally lowered the pillow and met your gaze, you were staring at him completely dumbstruck.

Several emotions warred for control on Logan's face when he saw you. Grief, despair, heartbreak, hope, disbelief, and relief. Finally, he seemed to pull them all together into a neutral expression.

"Y/N," he started, taking a step towards you.

You instinctively took a step back. You knew that this Logan wasn't the one who hurt you, but it was hard to let all of that go when someone who looked exactly like your Logan was staring right at you.

"You're alive," he tried again, taking another step, as if he was drawn to you.

"I am," you answered, your hands clenched into fists at your side. You couldn't handle the way Logan was looking at you. He looked at you like you were his whole world. You would have killed to get your Logan to look at you like that. But having it now, from a different Logan, felt equal parts thrilling and unsettling. "Who am I to you?" You asked, needing to know what you were dealing with now. You had assumed maybe you were part of Logan's team in his universe, but he was hopelessly in love with Jean and didn't give a fuck about you. The way he was looking at you told an entirely different story.

"You're--," he started before he looked down at his left hand. You could see a wedding band around his ring finger. "You're my wife," he finally admitted as he balled his hand into a fist. "You were, at least," he added with a grimace. "And me? What am I to you in your universe?"

You didn't know whether to tell the truth or lie. But Logan had always known you way too well and any story you spun would unravel as you told it. "I loved you," you finally confessed. "But you left me for someone else," you continued, noting the way Logan's expression tightened, rage flashing in his eyes.

"Who?" He growled, advancing on you.

It was your biggest shame and worst heartbreak, so you faltered over the name for a moment. But you weren't even in the same universe as her or him anymore and it was time for you to stop running from your pain.

"Jean. He left me for Jean, alright? It didn't matter that I loved him and it didn't matter that we were together. Scott died and Jean needed someone and apparently that couldn't be anyone but him. He told me it was nothing, but I knew. He never looked at me the way you just did. He looked at her like she was the only person he cared about and when he left me for her, I ended up here," you hissed, finally walking towards Logan. "And I bet neither of them ever gave a fuck that I just up and disappeared. So, seeing you now has brought up all the shit he put me through," you snarled, reaching out to push at his shoulder.

"Y/N, I--," he started, reaching out for you. His expression was nearly reverent as he let his hand fall on your shoulder.

"Don't," you said, pushing away from him. "I'm not your wife," you snapped, hating the way his expression closed off and was replaced with that look he got when he was trying not to feel anything at all.

"And I'm not him," he shot back. His gaze drifted to the side and he reached out to grab a bottle of Remy's whiskey. He popped the top off the bottle and took a long swig.

You heard someone groan before you looked over at Deadpool. He brought a hand up to his head and Logan turned to watch him. He took another drink, keeping the bottle close to his chest, as he approached Wade.

"Ugh, what's with the angry bear staring me down?" Wade wondered, finally sitting up. "Also, where the hell are we? Are we about to be skinned and used as decoration for some post-apocalyptic lair?"

"Do you ever shut up?" Logan growled, taking another drink.

You knew it took a lot to get Logan drunk, but at the rate he was going, he would end up there by nightfall.

Deadpool finally scanned the room and noticed you. He got to his feet and pointed a finger at you. "Oh, holy shit. You're Y/N! You're a big part of this guy's tragic backstory, I can tell ya that, so what are you doing here?" Wade reached out to clap a hand to Logan's shoulder and got brushed off.

"That's enough!" Elektra called before walking into the room.

Wade looked shocked to see Elektra, but his eyes went wide at the sight of Blade striding into the room. Gambit then made his entrance before Laura took up the rear of the group.

Introductions went around, before Wade started in on Gambit and his accent. You could tell Remy was reluctantly amused, but he was distracted by something else.

Remy dismissed Wade and focused in on Logan. He shot you a quick, concerned look before he began flipping a card as he studied Logan. "Well, we've never had a Wolverine up in here before. Not sure we've ever wanted one here before," he said with another look at you. "I can tell you now it's just a common courtesy to at least ask before you go drinking up all my liquor."

"It's a good thing I don't give a fuck," Logan responded before taking another drink.

Remy's eyes burned red as he muttered an insult under his breath. He let the card in his hand go, letting it slice the bottle of liquor in half. Glass and whiskey rained down on Logan's boots, but he looked unbothered. He reached out to grab another bottle before pulling the top off and taking a drink.

"Oh, you sure are an asshole, aren't you? I'm starting to see why you hate this one," Remy continued, aiming the last sentence at you.

"You hate him?" Wade asked, whipping his head back and forth, from you to Logan and back again. Wade gasped and turned to point an accusing finger at Logan. "You and you," he pointed to you, "aren't a you in your universe?" He pressed his hands together, letting his fingers interlock. "What'd he do? Was he too busy practicing his brooding in the mirror? He try to slip you a little adamantium surprise in the bedroom? Did he--"

"Shut up," Logan snapped, tightening his grip on the bottle in his hand.

"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about," you admonished Wade.

Wade held his hands up in surrender, but he reached out to put a hand on Logan's shoulder. "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, my friend," he consoled before he approached you. He held his arms out as he walked towards you. "Come here, baby bird, and tell Papa Deadpool all about it," he said as he wrapped his arms around you.

"Get your hands off her," Logan growled, unsheathing his claws.

You brought a forcefield up between you and Wade. It was big enough to encompass his chest and abdomen and you used it to forcefully push him back. You slammed him into the wall, easing up, just to slam him into it again.

"Alright, alright," he coughed out, holding his hands up in surrender. "Don't piss off the Invisible Woman, got it," he conceded as you let your forcefield drop.

You rolled your eyes before crossing your arms over your chest. "That's not what they call me." The reminder of Johnny's sister brought up the worry you had for him. "Where the hell did you two come from?"

Wade did most of the talking and explained about the TVA, Cassandra, and their near-miss with Alioth.

"No one's ever made it out of Cassandra's clutches before," Elektra observed with something verging on respect in her tone.

"No one alive," Eric interjected with an unimpressed glare at Deadpool.

"Well, she is quite terrifying and a little grabby," Wade allowed with a nod of his head.

"One of ours has been missing for two days," you told Wade, carefully not looking at Logan. Logan had been watching you the whole time and you knew he was only mourning a ghost, but you hated how much you liked finally having Logan's undivided attention. "His name is Johnny. Did you see him?"

"The little flameball might've made an appearance, sure, but he's not with us," Wade explained with a flippant wave of his hand.

"Yeah, because you fucking got him killed with your big mouth," Logan snapped at Wade.

"Johnny's dead?" You asked, not wanting to believe it. You loved the others like family, but Johnny had practically been a brother to you. Sure, he let his mouth get him in trouble half the time, but he always managed to get himself out of it. "What the hell happened?"

"Cassandra decided she liked his insides on the outside," Wade answered, "because she's a megalomaniacal, psychotic asshole. Johnny’s words, not mine."

"Well, we've all been knowin' that," Remy said, idly shuffling a deck of cards in his hands. "But what're we gonna do about her, huh? She's got an army and we've just got us."

"Look, you've all been forgotten by your universes, but we can still take her if we team up. You got a Magneto here?" Wade questioned, hope in his voice that you knew was about to be crushed.

You moved to sit down at the table while you listened to the conversation carry on. There was a lot happening all at once and you didn’t know how to process any of it. Wade was desperate to get back to his own timeline, but Logan only seemed resigned. You didn't know how to accept the fact that Johnny was dead and you didn't know how to ignore the fact that Logan was still watching you.

When a plan was made to go after Cassandra and use Juggernaut's helmet to block her powers, you reluctantly agreed that it had some merit. If only because you wanted to get any type of revenge on Cassandra that you could to avenge Johnny.

The others were all on board and you knew most of them wanted nothing more than to bring Cassandra down as well. It was a suicide mission for most of you, but you figured if it meant stopping Cassandra and saving someone's universe, even if that someone was Wade Wilson, then it might be worth it.

"I'm in," you found yourself saying.

"Like hell you are," Logan cut in. "You'll just get yourself killed again and I can't--"

"I'm not dead," you pointed out, aware that the others were watching the pair of you. "I'm right here, because I'm not the one you lost."

"Well, I sure as hell don't want to go losing you again. You can't tell me you think this whackjob's plan is actually going to work out? He’s an idiot."

“Sticks and stones,” Wade muttered, rocking on his heels as he looked at Logan. “Sticks and stones.”

"You can do whatever you want," you told Logan, finally standing from your seat at the table. "But I'm going and if I die? Then at least I die doing something that's not just hiding and waiting for my inevitable end. At least I can help someone, even if it's a Deadpool," you said, gesturing towards Wade.

"Thanks?" Wade tried, sounding torn between flattered and insulted.

You didn't give Logan a chance to reply, because you left the room, opting to walk outside to get some distance from him.

Later, you heard from Remy that you were heading out first thing in the morning. You agreed to be ready by then and spent the rest of the evening invisible. You wanted to be alone, but you also hated the idea of losing one last opportunity to talk to Logan, even if he wasn't yours.

He was outside, staring into the fire he started, and steadily drinking Remy's liquor. You approached him as Laura was leaving his side. Even though you were still invisible, she seemed to know you were there, and walked around you.

You stayed a few feet behind him, watching him frown into the fire.

"I know you're there," Logan called out, turning to look over his shoulder. "You were never good at hiding from me."

You let yourself go visible before you continued to walk towards him. "My Logan didn't really give a shit about me, so I guess he knew where to find me, he just didn't care," you observed with a sigh. Having this Logan around was only showing you what you had missed out on in your universe with your Logan. You reached out to grab the bottle from Logan before taking a drink and handing it back. "You know, I wanted nothing more than for him to love me back. But I wasn't enough for him. And he knew, he knew everything I felt for him, but he never felt the same. I was just someone to warm his bed while his thoughts were with someone else."

Logan was quiet for a few moments before he held the bottle back out to you.

"You've made it clear you're not my wife," he started, keeping his gaze on the fire. "But I don't think you get that I'm not him. I see you and, God, I wish I could keep you safe. I wasn't able to save her. I wasn't able to save any of them and it's my fault my team, my family, my wife are all gone. I walked away and they died because of it," he admitted and you could see a tear begin to slip down his cheek. You had never seen your Logan so vulnerable and you didn't know what to do with this one. "I don't want to lose you again. I know you're not her, but I don't want to walk away and know that you died because of it."

"Then don't walk away," you whispered, moving until you were right beside him. You could feel the heat emanating off him and it sent a shiver down your spine. You had felt the chilling sense of isolation for so long that feeling Logan again felt like you were coming back to life.

"I know I wasn't happy to see you," you allowed with a grimace. "But since you got here, you've done nothing but remind me that I could have had what I wanted all along, but I was stuck in the wrong damn universe. And maybe it was possible for my Logan to love me all along and I just wasn't enough."

"Your Logan is a fucking idiot," he growled, finally looking at you. "You're here in this shithole because of him and you're ready to sacrifice yourself for someone you don't even know. He was the one who wasn't good enough. I guess I'm more like him than I would want to be."

You took a chance and reached out to grab Logan's hand. You were both grieving different people and you knew you weren't his wife, but you wanted to offer him comfort all the same. You also couldn't deny that the feeling of Logan's hand in yours felt like a balm for the pain you had been carrying around since falling into the Void.

His hand tightened around yours and you saw some of the tension leave his shoulders.

"You're enough, Logan," you assured him. "And I believe in you," you confessed. "You don't have to go tomorrow, but I'm going to be there. And if this is the last moment I ever get with you, then there's one thing I want to do."

Logan furrowed his brow in confusion before his expression smoothed out into surprise. You had leaned forward, just barely letting your lips brush his, waiting for him to either lean in or push you away.

You waited for a beat longer, sure you were making an idiot of yourself, before you felt Logan's hand at your hip. He pulled you closer, practically into his lap, as he returned the kiss. It was passionate and tender and in turns aggressive and searching. His tongue was twined around yours and his teeth were nipping at your lips and your head was beginning to spin from the rush. Logan let out a whimper and his hand clutched your hip tighter, and you knew you were going to have a bruise there by the next morning, but you didn’t mind that there would be a reminder of this moment.

You reluctantly pulled away, meeting his eyes and noticing how Logan looked like he was ready to drag you back into another kiss.

"Thank you," you whispered, reaching up a hand to brush your thumb over his bottom lip. You let it drag down briefly and leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to it. Your Logan had been rough and demanding and uncaring, but the love and want this Logan had poured into the kiss had shown you what it would have been like for the love of your life to love you back. Maybe, with that memory, your death the next day would be a little sweeter.

"Y/N," Logan started, but didn't continue.

You offered him a sad smile and started to stand. "I should try to sleep. I've got a big day tomorrow."

You moved to leave, but Logan reached out and grabbed your hand. He reeled you back towards him, causing you to drop down into his lap, but he caught you by the hips. He wrapped his arms around your waist and trailed his hand up your back before it was resting against the back of your neck. He pulled you down into another kiss, this one just as intense, but less frenzied. Logan kept you in place with just the slightest pressure of his hand on your neck and you let him pour everything he had into it.

By the time you pulled away, you were breathless and speechless, reluctant to leave now that you had another taste of him.

"I'll see you in the morning," Logan promised, finally releasing you from his hold.

It took you while to shake off your daze, but then you realized what he was telling you.

You felt a smile tug at your lips before you got off his lap.

"See you in the morning," you agreed before leaving Logan in search of your bed.

The drive in the Honda Odyssey was cramped, but Wade insisted if it could house an all-night brawl between a Deadpool and a Wolverine, then it would hold the rest of you just fine all the way to Cassandra's lair. And then he started spouting off something about safety features and cup holders and you started to wonder if following his plan had been the dumbest thing you had ever done.

You found yourself sneaking glances at Logan at the rear of the car. He was watching you the whole time and every time your eyes met, a little spark of heat shot through you. Maybe he wasn't your Logan, but he had helped you begin to heal all the same. And now you were starting to fall for an entirely different Logan who was likely leaving the Void while you stayed behind and died to get him out.

Life had never been fair to you, but you hated that it was downright cruel to you as well.

By the time you were arriving at Cassandra’s, you were starting to wonder if there had ever been a happy ending for you in store or if it was just supposed to be one tragedy after another.

You lined up with the others as you faced down Cassandra's henchmen. You could see Azazel popping in and out of view and Psylocke trailing through the crowd. Juggernaut was staring down the group while Toad perched high above, a smirk on his face. There were dozens of them and you had no idea how you were going to pull it off, but even if you did die, at least it was to save someone's universe, even if it wasn't your own.

"You know how long I've been waiting for this? Ooohuee, I'm about to make a name for myself here," Remy boasted, eagerly bouncing on his feet while he began to charge a card.

"I don't think any of you walk away from this," Logan pointed out, sending a quick glance your way.

"You just make sure they know what happened here today," Remy continued, not seeming to care that he was staring death right in the face.

"We'll watch your six," Blade told Logan and Wade. "You get up there and we'll get you that helmet."

Before he could follow Wade, Logan turned to you and pulled you close. He pressed a kiss to your lips, one full of longing and grief. "I don't want to leave you," he murmured into the kiss.

You pulled back to meet his eyes, ignoring the fact that you felt like you were losing him all over again. "What you're fighting for is more important," you told him. "Maybe we'll meet again in another universe."

"Maybe," he agreed before kissing you again.

This one was brief, but it left you wanting more.

You watched Logan follow Wade before you were caught up in the fight between your friends and Cassandra's lackies.

The fight was terrifying, because the stakes were so high. You flickered in and out of visibility as needed and used your forcefields to protect your friends or attack your enemies. You used a forcefield to gather rocks and then propelled it into someone just to turn invisible to avoid someone's knife.

You were exhausted as the battle waged on and you knew that circumstances were beginning to look dire for you and your friends. Most of you were hurt and bleeding, and the fight was beginning to drain out of you.

You got distracted by Laura taking Juggernaut out and managing to get his helmet up to where Logan and Wade were no doubt dealing with Cassandra despite Psylocke intervening. You moved towards them, but you felt a searing pain in your side and you looked down to see the end of Azazel’s tail sticking through your flesh.

He jerked you back towards him and a blade sliced through his tail, freeing you. You were quick to form a forcefield around Azazel before he could escape and you began to press in on the sides, shrinking it down so he had nowhere to go. You could see him trying to teleport out, but it wasn’t working, and a look of panic flashed across his face.

You kept pressing in until his skin started to split and blood began to pour. All at once, you swept the sides in, watching as Azazel was crushed. You let the forcefield go and watched as his remains fell to the ground with a splat.

“You squashed him like a bug,” Eric observed with a nod of his head, cleaning Azazel’s blood off his blade. “Impressive.”

“Thanks,” you smiled at Blade, glancing down at the gash in your side.

“Keep your head,” he warned you just as someone rushed at you. You went invisible and stepped to the side, letting them impale themselves on Eric’s sword.

The battle took twists and turns, but after getting stabbed in the shoulder and nearly losing consciousness when someone hit you on the back of the head, you realized that the bodies were starting to drop, but your friends were still standing.

You figured your victory would be short-lived when the skies began to darken and Alioth showed on the horizon.

“He’s looking for a meal,” Elektra grunted, avoiding a hit to the side before using one of her twin sais to bring someone to their knees. She finished them off with a strike to their neck before she turned to look at the rest of you. “We need to get the hell out of here.”

You were distracted by a portal opening up in the air above you and you looked up in time to see Logan and Wade jumping through it.

Someone grabbed your arm and you instinctively moved to hit them, but you realized it was Elektra.

"Come on!" She yelled over the roar of Alioth and pulled you to cover inside Cassandra's lair.

"That was a close one," Remy said as he helped Blade into the makeshift shelter.

"But they got away," Laura pointed out with a small, satisfied smile.

"And we got to kill the fuckers that've been making our lives hell," Remy added with a grin. "Any of you see that one trick I pulled? I got the cards charged up and then guy went boom."

He looked so pleased with himself that you couldn’t stop the helpless little laugh you let out. The past few days had felt absurd and surreal, and you couldn’t even tell if it was all some fever dream. Maybe Remy had spiked his liquor to keep unsuspecting people out of it and you were currently back in the hideout, riding out one terrifying trip.

But when you twisted to the side, you felt like your side was splitting open all over again and you let out a gasp. Elektra knelt at your side, studying your wound with a frown.

"So, what happens now? Are we just stuck here until we know it's clear? We go back to our hideout and wait forever? Half of us need some kind of medical attention,” she pointed out, searching around her until she found a discarded jacket. She pressed it against your side and you let out a hiss of pain.

"Well, we didn't die, so at least there’s that," you offered with a shrug of your shoulders. "I figure we've earned some retirement. Even if we're still stuck here," you allowed with a wince as you pressed a hand to your shoulder. The wound was deep and still bleeding, but you figured you had suffered worse before. You were going to need stitches and painkillers and some more of Remy’s liquor, but at least you were still breathing.

You weren't sure how long you waited for the storm to pass, but by the time you got back outside, it was already dark. Most of the bodies were gone, consumed by Alioth, and you leaned into Elektra’s side as she helped you navigate the various body parts left behind.

"Think the car will make it back?" Remy wondered, surveying the Odyssey with its crushed sides and flat tires. It was practically drenched in blood and viscera, nearly indistinguishable as a vehicle.

"Why don't you start it up and see?" Eric prompted, looking at Gambit like he thought he was a special kind of stupid. “Maybe we can ride one of your little cards back to the hideout. How far can you throw them?”

"That won't be necessary," a voice interrupted, startling you.

A portal had opened up to your left and a woman had walked through it. She had soldiers behind her who were wearing uniforms with a TVA logo stamped on the right arm.

"Wade Wilson struck a deal for all of you," the woman continued, surveying the group. "It's time for all of you to go home."

“Home?” Remy repeated with a skeptical look at the rest of you. “What if we don’t have a home?”

“Then wherever you’d like to be,” she amended. “With conditions, of course.”

It turned out that Wade and Logan not only saved Wade's universe, but every universe. Cassandra had wanted nothing to exist except for the Void where she reigned and both of them had managed to stop her.

You never considered that your fight with Cassandra’s minions wound end with anything except for your death. You certainly never thought you would have the option to leave the Void.

You definitely didn't want to return home, so you asked if you could stay in Wade's universe. Logan and Laura had opted to stay as well and since your variant had never been born in Wade’s universe, you were welcome to stay. It felt like you were getting the opportunity to carve out the kind of life you wanted all along. One where you knew you would be welcome and wanted without fearing that you would be abandoned for someone else.

Now, you were sitting around a table with Wade's family and the beginnings of a new one for you. Laura was sitting to your left and Logan to your right and you couldn't help but feel like this was where you had belonged all along.

Logan had admitted that he wasn't allowed to try to save the people in his universe, but he wanted to be whatever you needed or wanted him to be in your new one. You knew that was a daunting order for someone like Logan, so you settled for telling him that you wanted to start at the beginning.

You wanted to get to know this Logan, because even though you already loved him, you knew that you wanted a clean slate. One where you weren’t comparing him to your universe’s Logan and one where you gave him every opportunity to show you that he was better. You also didn’t want him to just see the ghost of his wife in you, so you wanted him to get to know you.

You soaked up the love and laughter that flowed through the room and met Logan's gaze. You weren't even surprised to see that he was already watching you. You reached out to grab his hand, delighting in the way he immediately welcomed your touch.

You no longer felt forgotten and hopeless. Everything you had yearned for, fought for, in your old life had quite literally dropped right into your new one and you couldn't have been more grateful for another shot at happiness.

From the way Logan smiled at you and brought your hand up to kiss the back of it, you knew he was just as appreciative at the opportunity to turn his life back around.

"Thank you," you whispered to him, leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder.

"Nothing to thank me for," he answered before dropping another kiss on the crowd of your head.

You wanted to argue with him and tell him that he had saved you, but you figured you would tell him later. For now, you were going to enjoy the feeling of belonging you felt and look forward to the fact that there would be a later with Logan.

Edited To Add: I am writing a sequel! It's going to involve Cable (even though he didn't test well) and Logan getting payback on reader's original Wolverine on her behalf and a whole bunch of other fun surprises!! If you want to be tagged, just let me know!

The sequel is HERE for anyone interested!

This is now a whole series! Main post for the series is HERE.

[tremendouscreationperson]

Logan x Reader pt.1

Again spoilers for Deadpool and Wolverine

Many of y'all liked my little DP/W idea so here is more, I tried to keep it GN so there isn't smut but it does sorta allude to it

Part 2 >> Masterlist

Wade has just woke up, he yet again sees Logan drinking and asks 'where they are and how they got here'. Logan vaguely points to the door and three people walk through. It's Elektra, Blade and Gambit. There are some not-so-pleasantries and eventually Laura makes herself known.

"We're missing Johnny and Y/N." Gambit drawls.

Wade makes a joke and turns back to Logan who looks like he's shat himself. "Peanut?"

"You said Y/N?" Logan settles his drink onto the first available surface and runs a hand through his hair. "We saw Johnny but not Y/N."

~~

Later on he had slumped down and made a fire. He didn't want to be part of the heroics, he couldn't be. He wasn't worth it. Laura had tried to convince him in her unique way. He could see himself in her, see why he'd fight for her.

Logan took another swig and stared off into the treeline. It was unclear how long he just sat but eventually he noticed movement.

Wolverine stood, ready to protect the others. Why was he ready to protect the others?

Then he saw you.

You were wide eyed. Your suit was practically undamaged except for a little cut on your thigh. Not a hair out of place. There was dirt on your face and body but you were beautiful.

"Y/N." He involuntarily took a step towards you.

You stayed completely still. Wary. Why were you wary of him? “Logan.” Your voice was barely above a whisper but he heard it. Would always hear you. You were the main voice rattling around his adamantium skull.

“Y/N.” He took another step forward and tried to erase his frown, tried to ease his expression into something you wouldn't be wary of. “I'm not going to hurt you.”

Your eyes scanned him and the trees behind before you gave a nod and slowly approached, favouring your right leg.

“It's been a while.” The fire light bounced gloriously off your skin, illuminating your very being as though you were an angel. Well you were. You were perfect. Are perfect.

“For me as well.” He nodded too enthusiastically, too eager to be speaking to you. He didn't deserve this.

You lowered yourself onto a patch of grass, crossing your legs to the best of your ability, pupils glued to the flames. They danced along and lit up your eyes. Surely, you couldn't be more beautiful. Logan hadn't even realised but he had sat himself back down on his perch across from you. “I’m sorry.”

He couldn't help it, his frown was back in full force. What could you possibly have to apologise for? “I don-”

“You're not the first Wolverine to come sniffing me out.” You explained. “There's been others and they've- they've not all been friendly.”

What the fuck had he done? “I swear, I am not here to hurt you.” He placed a hand over his heart. “I promise.”

“I know. I just- it's not often you see your husband's-” Husband? “- face and he doesn't know you or is feral or-” You took a deep breath, finally meeting his gaze. “You at least recognise me.”

“Of course I do.”

“Okay, that's good.” You nod mostly to yourself before asking, “what happened in your world?”

“My world?”

You nod again.

“We're X-Men. I'm shitty. You're perfect. Scott nags me. Storm married a king and moved away, visits every so often. Jean was in the process of taking over from Charles…” If he didn't tell you they all died, maybe they didn't. Maybe they could live in your head. Maybe he wasn't a monster. “Yours?”

“Much the same really.” One shoulder lifted in a half shrug. “‘cept you weren't shitty. You were just you. Sabertooth was the shitty Howlett.”

Logan chuckled at that.

“Did you have a Laura? Or a Gabby?”

He shook his head. “Uh, no. But I've met Laura. She's nice. Fierce.”

“She's your DNA spliced with some poor unfortunate ladies. Essentially your offspring.” You informed. “Gabby is a clone of a clone. She's lovely though. Friends with Wa-Deadpool.”

“He's here.” Logan scratched his chin. “He's the reason I am.”

“Oh, you're friends as well?”

“God, no.” He shook his head. “Kinda just thrust together.”

“He always wanted to hang with you but usually just ended up with Spidey.”

Logan had heard of Spidey -Spiderman- but he hadn't met the guy, yet. If he hung out with Wade he was probably just as mad.

You both fell into a fairly comfortable silence but he didn't like that. You were here. He could actually talk to you. Actually be around you. “What happened to your leg?” He motioned to it as you carefully repositioned yourself.

“Angel.” You whispered darkly.

“Warren?”

“Yeah. Sometimes your friends aren't your friends. He had metal wings and weird tattoos. I called out to him and he just attacked. He was so quick I couldn't put up a forcefield in time.”

“I'm sorry.” It was a lame response but he had nothing else. You merely sat there, watching him, scanning his reactions. “I don't know how to convince you I am your friend. But I am. I won't harm you.”

You gave him a small lopsided smile. And he remembered.

“Wait. I do know how.” Logan rummaged around his very tiny suit pockets. He knew it was somewhere. He made sure it was always on him. Hidden away where no one would find it. Tucked into a sleeve that he kept safe by his ankle, usually people hit his torso, they don't always go for feet so he felt secure in it's position. Well, he did until he fought Wade in that fucking Honda.

Logan found it. It was scrappy and definitely worse for wear but the picture was clear. He stood and slowly walked around the fire to your side. You didn't back away but he caught your involuntary shoulder flinch.

“Here.”

You delicately took the piece of paper from his hands. It felt glossy, like magazine print. It was folded and on the visible side was a photo of you smiling wide, proud, in front of the X mansion. You unfolded it to see Logan standing next to you with a barely-there smirk. He looked almost bored but you knew him. Knew he was smiling, it was in his eyes, the softness in his face.

You were confused because he was smiling yet it was clear that he folded it to hide himself.

“Why have you folded it like that?”

Because I look awful. Because you are perfect and happy and brilliant and I pretended I didn't want the photo. Because it's the only faculty photo of me they ever took. Because they all knew I was sweet on you when you stopped me for a photo and I agreed. Because I had to take this from a yearbook after the school was raided. Because it's the only photo of us that I have and I hate that I'm in it. “Easier to fit the little pocket.”

“I have a similar one.” You confessed, knowing he was lying but that's okay. You all had secrets. “It's with my other bits, in the base.”

He felt his cheeks warm so looked away to the base. “Speaking of, it's late and you're hurt. They were planning on leaving at sun up, but I'm not sure that's still happening.”

“Why are we leaving?”

“We're storming Cassandra Nova’s lair.”

You let out a full body laugh. The noise was heavenly. “Fuck off, you come here and suddenly talk them into a full frontal assault? Brilliant.”

He rolled his eyes at you but extended a hand. “Come on, bub, let's get you updated and checked out.”

It wasn't much really, not to a bystander, but you actually accepting his hand meant the world to him and you. Both for similar and completely different reasons.

He definitely didn't need to but insisted on helping you to the base. It was hardly worth it but being back in his arms was lovely. It felt like home. He was maybe a few inches taller and definitely a little older looking than you recalled but he was your Logan. And a helpful one. He wasn't chasing you like a wild dog because you smelt nice. He was helping you limp back.

“Y/N.” Elektra spoke as soon as you entered the threshold.

“El.” You smiled widely.

She gave you a subtle look - raising her eyebrows a fraction and flickering her eyes at Logan - before taking your hand and leading you out of his arms. “We were worried.”

“You shouldn't have worried.” Rolling your eyes. “You know me.”

“That is why I was worried.”

She gave you a quick hug and assessed your leg. You had known her for five years. She had been here longer than you, travelling with Blade, and quickly intervened when she saw a Ghost Rider trying to lasso you. You three had met Johnny, who had been here a while too, and eventually met Laura. She was the only familiar face to you, it was a breath of fresh air to see her. It was a shame she didn't know you but you explained who you were and where she was and she slowly came around to trusting you. Gambit was the newest addition to your ragtag gang. He, bless him, tried to be as useful as possible and you're sure he was but there were times when you had no idea what went on in his mind. He was his own enigma.

The cut wasn't awful, a fact you had said multiple times, but Elektra still insisted on using alcohol to clean and one of the rags you recycled from an old duvet to wrap it, explaining the idiotic plan that you were all taking part of as she went.

“Oh!” Wade loudly exclaimed as Elektra tightened the makeshift bandage. “The self insert! I can't believe it, the movie’s been out like three days!”

You exchanged a glance with El and gave him an odd look as you greeted the man. “Hiya Wade.”

“Y/N.” He bowed. “I'm a little star struck.”

“Why?” Elektra stood to her full height and quickly made an exit, this wasn't the first Deadpool she had seen but this was one of the high energy ones.

“Well, you're Logan's thing.” The man behind perked up, his shoulders tense. He had been watching you the whole time and clearly wasn't a fan of DP rambling. “You're his reason to keep on. One of the reasons my Logan saved Laura. To keep his promise to you or something like that, I don't know the writing is a bit clunky.”

“Right.” You nodded, not quite understanding. But it was funny to see the mortified expression Logan was wearing. “So I'm Logan's ‘thing’.”

“Well, duh-”

“Will you shut the fuck up?” Logan ordered.

“Gosh, was he always this snappy?” Wade chirped.

“I dunno, Lo always had a soft spot for me so..”

“Awwwww.” He clasped his hands and held them at his heart. “Did you hear that she said ‘Lo’?” Wade had just turned to see the man in question but Wolverine was behind him and quickly dragging the Merc away, not quite whispering another ‘shut your fucking mouth’.

Blade, who was one to skulk hidden in corners before making himself known, had watched the interaction and gave you a fright as he stepped from the shadows. “So that's him, huh?”

“Jesus!” You whisper-yelled. “How many times have I asked you to not do that?”

“Daywalker, can't help it.” He shrugged and sat next to you on the sofa. It was old and ugly but so so comfortable.

You gave a sigh, holding your hammering heart. “Yes. He's Logan. A version of him. That actually doesn't wanna kill me.”

“Maybe you should let it play out.”

“And maybe I shouldn't.” You counter. “We'll all be dead tomorrow anyway.”

“All the more reason to."

He was correct of course. You had missed Logan so much and this one clearly had missed you. It would be folly to not spend the last night you may be alive together. In whatever way you were both comfortable with. But you didnt want to give him the satisfaction of being right, so merely huffed in response.

"Elektra told you the plan?”

“Well, Laura hardly speaks and I can't understand Gambit.”

Blade let out a low laugh. He was one of the coolest people you'd ever met, even his chuckle was cool. You were so envious.

Logan came back with red cheeks and quickly apologised. “I'm sorry, he talks so much and I don't think he actually hears himself.”

You waved him off. “It's fine.”

“No, he embarrassed you.” Logan sighed, his jaw set like he was biting the inside of his cheek.

“Logan, really. Don't worry.” You could see that he wasn't going to 'not worry' so decided to just remove yourself from the situation. Clapping Blade’s leg you stood. “Right, bed time. Big day tomorrow.”

“You aren't coming.” Logan replied immediately.

“Uhm. Pretty sure I am.”

“No, you're injured.” He stated as though that was obvious.

“This is literally the smallest injury I've had out here.”

“But you are hurt.”

“Logan.”

“Y/N.”

Blade watched the back and forth with a smirk, you were both clearly a married couple.

“I think you two should take this to Y/N’s room.” Your eyes widened dramatically. “You can argue all night when the door is shut and no one else can hear you.” The sly bastard.

“Okay.” Logan agreed. “I'll convince you to stay, where's your room?”

You let out a few noises, dying arguments, and then the biggest sigh. “Fuck my life. This way.”

The base was an old temple. You had wondered who it belonged to. The statues of her were beautiful. You had yet to see a variant of whoever this was, maybe that was a good thing. She might not take lightly to you guys using her sacred temple as a hotel. There were a few corridors you had to walk down to get to your room. You'd dragged an old mattress into it and made sure to keep the room dust free. There weren't a lot of luxuries in this world but you had an orb that when touched lit up delicately. There were a few sets of clothes you'd scavenged so you kept yourself clean and had a set of ‘pjs’. Your room was covered in marks where you had flung a knife or practised a forcefield. He assumed there weren't that many guns here, or if there were ammo was rare.

“You can't fight.” Logan started.

Oh. You were actually going to argue. “Logan, I could fight you right now.”

“Go on then.” He called your bluff.

You gave him a playful smirk. “You really wanna fight? It could be our last day alive and you wanna spend it fighting?”

“I know you can't fight with that leg.” He was so sure of himself. You couldn't wait to prove him wrong.

With a twitch of your hand you flung him towards you with a forcefield, side stepping out of his way. It took him by surprise how strong you had gotten and he had to catch himself before he hit the wall.

Logan twisted around to find you at his throat with a small blade in your hand. Your chest pressed into his, causing his back to hit the wall. “That was over pretty quick, Lo.”

Logan was in awe of your swift moves. You were tenfold who he knew. God could you get more attractive? He felt himself get warm and not from embarrassment. You were making him hot, you holding a knife to his throat was making him horny. What did that say about him?

Your eyebrows pinched minutely as you observed him swallow. “You like this, don't you?”

Was there a point in lying? “Maybe.”

“Well... Maybe I do, too.”

God he was ruined.

You were literally amazing.

How could he be so lucky? He really didn't deserve this.

Logan glanced down to your lips and you smirked. "Go on." He didn't need any other invitations. He captured your lips and kissed you with the full force of his years of loneliness.

He loved you, by god, he did.

Logan's left hand found your nape whilst his right landed on your ass. He growled as you pushed into him a fraction more.

Your leg moved by itself, wrapping around his waist as you took advantage of his growl. Kissing the exposed areas of his neck. You'd missed this. You'd missed him.

Logan hoisted you the rest of the way up and gazed into your eyes. You were looking down at him, lips plump and cheeks hot, you panted a little and fuck. He was going to fuck you. He wasn't sure he could actually pull himself away from you. You both should be sleeping, preparing for the fight tomorrow. No, you shouldn't be fighting. You should be safe. Somewhere safe and warm, waiting for him to return.

"Come with me." He begged.

"I'm sure I will." You winked.

"No, tomorrow, after the fight. Come with me, wherever I end up." He didn't want to go back but he would if you followed. If you came with him he could do it. Go anywhere. Be anyone.

"So you agree I'm fighting fit." You pecked his nose, playfully.

He huffed but found your lips again, leading you both to the mattress you called a bed.

He'd buy you a bed, a grand one. One worthy of you. He hated that you only had this. He needed to provide for you. Keep you warm, safe, loved, full. Keep you.

Logan was going to keep you and he didn't care how.

.

.

Part 2

[applepiewinchesters]

Every Universe (Logan Howlett x fem!Reader)

A/N: This was written while I was slightly intoxicated, I regret nothing though and hope you guys enjoy it. It was proofread but I cannot say there will be no grammatical errors. Regardless, please enjoy!! :) Also, takes place in the Deadpool and Wolverine universe.

Word Count: 4,158 (this bitch is long, for me at least)

Warnings: None really unless you count angst and fluff as well as the mention of butt stuff

Finding out that not falling in love with a man being the sole reason you were sent to the void seemed like a pretty patriarchal reason to essentially be damned but who were you to question the TVA.

The day you were sent to the void you’d seen the news, MULTIPLE CASUALTIES AFTER ATTACK AT XAVIER’S SCHOOL FOR GIFTED YOUNGSTERS, names such as Jean Grey, Marie D’Ancanto, Scott Summers, Hank McCoy, and Logan Howlett were read out by the heartbroken looking anchor.

Being a mutant yourself, the news stung and left a pit of anxiety in your stomach. It was an attack by an anti-mutant terrorist group, if they were bold enough to attack the home of Charles Xavier, why not a shopping mall next, or another school full of mutant and non-mutant children alike.

Only minutes after the newscast on the tragedy started four rectangular, orange portals opened in front of and behind you. Four men dressed in odd looking military uniforms stalked towards you. You didn’t even have time to attempt to fend them off before they grabbed you, holding you down while you attempted to break free but even with your mutation, they were too strong.

All you remembered was one of them placing some weird stick against your stomach and you screamed as you essentially dissolved into nothing.

When you woke you were found by who you now knew as Blade, and were told you were in the Void, where you would stay until you died or were killed by a fellow member of said Void.

You’d been there for a what you thought was probably a few years when a couple of Deadpool and Wolverine variants were found by Laura in an absolutely fucked Honda Odyssey. She brought them there and Gambit and Blade brought them inside and laid them down. They appeared as if they’d just had a horrific fight or the most violent sexual encounter ever.

The Wolverine variant was the first to wake up, quite literally shooting up into a sitting position while breathing heavily. His claws extended quickly from his knuckles, and he made an almost animalistic sound.

“Easy there killer,” you almost teased, holding up your hands, you’d been the one unfortunate enough to be closest to him when he woke up, so his eyes immediately fixed on you.

Several emotions seemed to flash across his face at once, his look of anger changing to one of shock. His claws disappeared just as quickly as they’d appeared just moments ago as you slowly put your hands down, now a little concerned for the man.

“Y/N?”, he asked, his head tilting slightly.

It was your turn to look confused, “Did we know each other?”, you asked.

Sure, you’d heard of Wolverine, of Logan, but you’d never met him personally, you had originally been set to attend Charles Xavier’s school when you were 18 but after an attack on the school the same year your parents had decided against it.

The Logan before you’ s face fell slightly; he seemed almost hurt. It took him a second to respond, “I, uh, I guess not.”

That was when Elektra cut in, explaining to Logan where he was and how she’d found him and Deadpool. While he seemed to only half listen, he got up and found the nearest bottle of Gambit’s booze and started drinking it.

When Deadpool woke up it was a completely different side of weird, you hadn’t had the pleasure of coming across a Deadpool variant, but you’d heard how odd they were, and unfortunately for you, you thought they were exaggerating.

After annoying literally everyone in the room, the Deadpool variant all got you to somehow agree to help him and Wolverine get back to the TVA to save his timeline, as well as a sneak attack on Cassandra Nova. The whole time Logan watched you from the corner of his eye.

He couldn’t completely convince himself it was you. The last time he’d seen you, you were lying dead on the front lawn of the school, killed by a large group of humans, along with almost everyone at the mansion. You were covered in blood and cold by the time he’d gotten there. He’d held onto you until the coroner was nearly begging to take you away.

Logan remembered almost everything about you. Your favorite movie, what food you hated, and even the feel of your hand in his. But when you looked at him with little to no recognition in your eyes, his heart could’ve broken all over again.

You had no idea the conflicting feelings he’d had while you sat only a few feet away. You looked practically the same, maybe older than you were when you’d died in his world, he was older too, maybe you just didn’t want to be with an old man and were pretending not to know him. He was the worst Wolverine after all, he wouldn’t blame you.

But then there were some things you did that reminded him of his version of you, the way your laugh sounded exactly the same, how you sat the same way in your chair, and you even made the same face when you’d taken a drink of Gambit’s whiskey as when you’d sip his occasionally while the two of you sat on the couch in the mansion watching some movie one of the others had put on.

It was you, just, one that apparently hadn’t fallen in love with Logan Howlett. Logan himself couldn’t help but wonder if that had been your reason for being sent here, but thought better of it, deciding he'd probably never have that kind of impact on any kind of world.

After a successful attack on Cassandra and her small army, Deadpool and Wolverine were gone, and you hadn’t expected to ever see them again. Then Cassandra almost destroyed every timeline to exist, and you’d thought for sure those two variants had gotten themselves killed.

But then the TVA came for you and brought you to said Deadpool variants world, which he had successfully and somehow saved with Wolverine’s help. You couldn’t help but notice Logan’s shirt missing this time around. Almost cursing yourself for not trying harder to go to Xavier’s school when you were younger, having a chance to meet your world’s Logan. A man’s abs can do that to a woman.

“Happy to not be in the void and all, but why am I here?”, you asked, eyeing the agents around you and taking in the cracked subway station.

“I thought I’d give a little gift to Wolvie here,” Deadpool replied in an overly enthusiastic manner, throwing an arm around Logan who instantly pushed him away.

“I’m not a gift to give you dumb fuck,” you replied, crossing your arms over your chest.

Deadpool ignored your obvious distain and continued, “Well I figured since he lost you in his world and you never falling in love in your world caused his death that you could stay here with us!”.

Your eyes widened and you had to think about what he’d said for a moment, “I-I got him killed? I got Logan and those other mutants killed?”.

Logan couldn’t focus on the other details once his name left your mouth; he hadn’t heard you say that in almost a decade.

You on the other hand turned to the woman beside you that looked to be in charge.

“Is that the reason I was sent there, because I didn’t fall in love with Logan Howlett and he died because of it?”, you asked, you felt like you could be sick.

The woman sighed, almost regretful, “Yes, it was,” she finally answered you. “Without your help of your mutation those mutants did not survive that attack on the school.”

“Oooooo, trauma plot twist,” Deadpool practically squealed.

“Shut the fuck up!”, you snapped back, making Deadpool whisper a bashful, “Sorry,” and take a step back.

The TVA agents left shortly after, and that was how you found yourself living in a small apartment with Wade, Logan, and the craziest old lady you’d ever met, Blind Al.

Wade and she shared a room as weird as it was, you were given the spare room Blind Al reluctantly let you use, as it was now formerly her grow room, and Logan elected to sleep on the couch.

You settled in somewhat nicely, you still felt awkward in a world that wasn’t yours living with a doofus that you'd grown somewhat fond of and a man you got killed in his other life, but you had new friends, ones that didn’t have a huge chance of dying every day so that was a plus.

Yukio and Ellie had gravitated towards you, you were somewhat close in age, with them being early twenties and you in your somewhat late twenties, they reminded you of your younger sibling’s friends from back home in your previous world.

So, when they invited you to go out a month after you settled in, you couldn’t say no, it would get you out of the house at least, you wouldn’t have to sit and listen to Wade and Logan argue or endure Logan’s kicked puppy look when he thought you weren’t looking.

You felt awful you weren’t the you he thought you were, and you knew it was nothing you could control but after Wade let it slip what had happened to you in Logan’s world you couldn’t imagine how you’d feel if the roles were reversed.

So, to hopefully be able to forget about everything for a few hours you got ready, doing some easy makeup and hair, you put on a cute outfit you’d bought earlier in the week, Yukio had begged you to go shopping after finding out you didn’t own anything for “going out” yet on this world.

You relented and picked out a skirt, top, tights, and boots, it was simple yet cute enough to not be mistaken as any old outfit.

When you’d exited your bedroom in your shared apartment shortly before Yukio and Ellie were due to come get you, Wade looked up from whatever the hell he was doing on his phone, which could be anything from porn to angry birds.

His eyes widened slightly, “Got a date?”, he asked, only slightly feigning shock.

Logan had looked up immediately at the mention of a date, he was sipping a bottle of whiskey at the kitchen table. His eyes traveled over your outfit when he thought you were busy glaring at Wade.

“Not that its your business merc but no, I’m going out with Yukio and Ellie,” you stated, tossing a lip balm you had in your hand to your small purse.

“Girls nightttt,” Wade sang, only making you sigh.

As if a divine intervention interrupted there was a knock on the door and when you opened it you found the two girls standing there waiting.

“Hi Wade!”, Yukio exclaimed waving at him.

Wade leaned back in his seat to look around you at Yukio, “Hi Yukio!”.

“Come on,” you told them, moving to leave but a hand on your shoulder made you turn around. It was Wade.

“Now honey,” he began, “don’t take drinks from strangers, don’t go off alone, and don’t hook up with anyone. You know what they say about beer goggles, you’ll be waking up next to the crypt keeper.”

While you rolled your eyes and pushed Wade’s hand off your shoulder although you knew he really did care. Logan on the other hand clenched his jaw. You weren’t his and he knew that, but Wade’s last comment set his teeth on edge.

“I’m a big girl Wade, but thanks,” you told him, turning around and leaving this time without so much as a glimpse Logan’s way.

When the door shut Wade spoke again, “She’s gonna get picked up by every hottie in the club in that outfit. Did you see her legs Peanut?”.

Wade then almost immediately flinched when he felt glass shatter on the back of his head, the alcohol in the now broken bottle staining the back of his My Little Pony shirt.

He didn’t even have to look back to imagine the look on Logan’s face, “Gotcha,” was all Wade replied, picking out a rather large glass shard from the back of his neck.

…

It was hours later when you were so drunk you couldn’t feel the cold outside, but you sure felt good on the inside. The only bad thing was that the other girls wanted to go to another club, and your social battery was just about gone.

You three stumbled out of the club, Yukio and you giggled at something Ellie had yelled at some perv leering at you when you’d walked out. Stopping the other two from turning the opposite way to another club, you spoke rather loudly despite being out of the crowd and loud music.

“I-I think I’m gonna go home! You girls go!” you told them, making Yukio frown.

“Don’t walk home by yourself, call Wade or something,” Ellie commented.

You nodded thoughtfully before gasping, “I’ll call Logan, Wade is doing butt stuff with Vanessa tonight!”.

Your loud comment sent Yukio into a giggling fit and made a guy near you wince, maybe he’d done butt stuff too.

Ellie only nodded, rolling her eyes as you pulled your phone from your purse, scrolling through the very few numbers you’d had, Wade had gotten both you and Logan phones soon after arriving, claiming he needed to be able to send you both funny videos every day. Which were no doubt ignored by Logan.

Pressing on Logan’s contact, you put the phone up to your ear, listening to it ring only once before the call was answered.

“You alright?”, was the first thing out of Logan’s mouth and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh, I’m great!” you replied, “but Ellie doesn’t want me walking home alone and Wade is doing butt stuff so will you come? I’m only a few blocks from home.”

The whole sentence was sort of rushed and you thought maybe Logan hadn’t heard you correctly because the line went silent.

You were about to repeat yourself when Logan stopped you, “I’m coming,” he told you, you could hear him shuffling around and the sound of a door closing, “What’s the name?”.

Despite having been in the club for well over an hour you had to look up and squint at then brightly lit sign, “Uhhhh,” you mumbled into to the phone, before your eyes finally focused, “House of Yes!”.

You could’ve sworn Logan chuckled, “Be there soon,” was all he said before hanging up.

“Escort secured,” you told the two girls, slipping your phone back into your purse. “He’ll be here soon,” you added, attempting to replicate his gravely tone, only succeeding in making yourself cough and sending Yukio into a laughing fit.

It was only 15 minutes of standing around before Logan showed up, you spotted him first, having turned yourself that way to look for him. He was dressed in his usual jeans, button up, and undershirt, along with a leather jacket he’d picked up recently.

He looked good you had to admit, nearly every girl outside, and even some guys turned to look at him when he walked past. He didn’t give them any sort of acknowledgement though, earning some disappointed looks from a few of them when he walked up to you.

What was it Wade said about beer goggles? Logan was hot without alcohol though, so you shook off the thought.

“Ready to go?”, he asked, eyes scanning over you, not to be a perv but to make sure everything was the same as when you left, and it was, save for the way you swayed slightly and the way you smiled at him like you were so happy to see him. He thought he’d never see that again, but he has to remind himself for what felt like that hundredth time that it wasn’t you, not his you at least.

You nodded, turning around to hug both of the girls, telling them to be safe, although you knew Ellie wouldn’t put up with anyone’s shit.

“Bye Y/N! Bye Logan!”, Yukio exclaimed, waving at you both before grabbing Ellie’s hand as they turned the opposite way.

“Alright, come on,” Logan said, taking a step away from you and waiting for you to follow him to keep walking, he made sure to keep you closest to the buildings, it wouldn’t be too great to have you fall in the street in front of a car.

It was silent for a couple minutes, you stumbled every so often and Logan’s hand always shot out, ready to catch you, but you always righted yourself, giggling as you did, and Logan found himself smiling at the sound.

You caught him smiling after a couple times, narrowing your eyes, “What’re you smiling at grumpy?”, you asked, voice anything but angry.

“Grumpy?”, he asked, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Yeah, it’s what I call you sometimes in my head, Mr. Grumpy is also a good one,” you told him in a very serious tone.

“Mr. Grumpy,” Logan found himself repeating, only making you laugh, which made you stumble, nearly knocking into someone walking the opposite way of you both. Logan instinctively wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you away from the almost collision and into his side.

You immediately noticed he was warm, you could feel it even with his multiple layers on, it was growing colder now outside as the days went on and you yourself knew without the alcohol, you’d probably be cold but here he was, a personal heater.

“Are you actually just a werewolf?” you asked him, making him stop walking completely and turn towards you, removing his arm from your shoulders, making you pout a bit.

“I am not a werewolf,” he told you seriously.

You groaned, “Okay but you’re really warm, you have claws, you can run on all fours, and you’ve got those little…,” you trailed off, putting your pointer fingers up on each side of your head, attempting to mimic the little swishes his hair made.

Personally, you had no idea if his hair just did that (because he’s a werewolf), or if he styled it that way. You couldn’t decide which option to like more.

When Logan didn’t seem to understand what you’d said, you reached up, lightly running a finger along one of the swoops of his hair. You jumped a bit when his hand caught your wrist as you were pulling your hand back.

There was a look in his eyes you didn’t recognize but it soon disappeared as he let you go, “Sorry,” he quickly said. “Reflex.”

You shrugged, “No harm done,” you told him, and his eyes softened at the way you brushed off his behavior from years of enduring nothing even remotely close to the gentle way you’d just touched him.

Maybe you didn’t think so badly of him. You always seemed so wary, afraid to make him angry, to say something wrong, like he was a ticking time bomb. It put him on edge and made him want to steer clear of you, he didn’t want to scare you off either.  But now, standing there staring at you while you just smiled at him made him relax a bit.

“Let’s go,” you suddenly said, beginning to walk away from him. He was back at your side in moments, and you found yourself bumping into him every so often, apologizing every time you did.

Finally, he wrapped an arm around you again, pulling you back into the warmth of his side. You smiled when he did, stumbling slightly but he held you up easily, not letting you fall.

“Thanks for coming to get me,” you told him when you were only a block from home.

“No problem,” he replied, keeping his eyes on the sidewalk ahead.

There were a few moments of silence before you began to giggle suddenly, Logan’s brow furrowed as he looked down at you, “What?” he asked, hopefully not regretting asking.

“So, you’re not a werewolf?” you asked, looking up at him.

Logan groaned looking away from you, “No, and if you keep asking, you’ll regret it.”

“Ooo what are you gonna do?” you mocked, poking his side.

“Wouldn’t you like to know sweetheart,” he replied, making you stumble at the nickname.

“I would,” you challenged, after righting yourself with the help of Logan’s arm around you.

Logan regarded you for a moment before shaking his head, “You’re drunk, another time.”

“Ughhhhh,” you groaned, “Tell me!”.

“Not a chance,” Logan replied, smirking a bit. He’d been drinking since you left and was buzzed himself, he couldn’t help but smile at your behavior.

The you he’d known had always acted like this, at least when intoxicated. You were whiny, clumsy, and clingy. The way your fingers gripped the back of his jacket to stay up right made his heart ache though and his smile fell.

You noticed his attitude change and became concerned, “You okay?” you asked, attempting to stop walking, but Logan kept you going.

“Fine” he replied, his hold on you loosening slightly, you couldn’t help but notice.

So, you stopped, much to Logan’s dismay, moving to stand in front of him, swaying slightly as you very determinedly looked him in the eye.

“What’s wrong, did I do something?” you asked, genuine concern in your voice, he could almost feel his heart crack just slightly.

“No, it’s…,” Logan began, his tongue getting tied, he was never great at emotions, that’s why he drank so much. You didn’t have to feel anything then.

“I’m listening,” you reassured, resisting the urge to take his hand.

“You’re so much like…like her, like you,” Logan finally said, not really meeting your eye. “I thought I could ignore it, but I can’t, you even smell the same.”

Logan had rendered you with nothing to say, could you truly comfort him? Reassure him? You felt yourself sobering up a bit at the thought.

It was a few moments of silence before you found your words, “I know this has been shitty for you too, and I'm sorry I haven't been a better friend. Honestly sometimes I think you hate the fact that I'm not her, me her, whatever...that you hate me. But then you do things like this and it makes me think otherwise. I guess I just don't know how to...approach you, Logan."

Logan felt his heart drop at the word “friend”, and the thought he made you feel inadequate. God he really was stupid enough to think he might have a chance with this version of you.

But he found himself lifting a hand to your cheek, feeling your skin heat up beneath his fingers, “I could never hate you, not in this universe, not in any, got it? Its my fault, for pushing that onto you, making you feel like you have to be someone you’re not.”

You couldn’t help but laugh slightly, “We’re both just fucked up in our own special way, aren’t we?”.

Logan nodded, dropping his hand, but you caught it in your own, “It’s not your fault either you know, I personally blame whatever bitchass overlord of the universe did this.”

Logan had to keep himself from solely focusing on the way your hand wrapped around his, “But…,” he went to argue.

You put up a hand to stop him, “Enough with the self-pity Howlett, its unbecoming of a man of your nature.”

“My nature?” Logan asked, titling his head at you.

“Yes, the nature of being absurdly attractive,” you admitted, looking away from him as you spoke, attempting to walk away, but he pulled you back, almost into his chest, but he kept you a few inches away, still concerned with scaring you.

“Absurdly?” Logan asked, the smirk returning to his face.

You swallowed hard, “Did I say that? I meant unappealing, completely unsightly.”

Your attempt at saving your future sober self from your drunk self was failing miserably, but Logan gave in after a few seconds, shrugging as he turned, placing his arm around you once more, guiding you towards the apartment building you could finally see in the distance.

“Whatever you say kid,” he told you.

This was the most at home you two had felt in a while, and when you sat next to each other at breakfast in the morning, Logan passing you whatever you needed when you’d asked, Wade gasped dramatically.

“Did you two also engage in butt stuff last night, or is that not your cup of whiskey Wolvie?” Wade asked.

This earned him a fork to the forehead, easily tossed across the table by Logan.

The way you laughed made Logan’s heart skip a beat instead of crack again. For the first time in quite a while he felt hope, and if being here with you meant putting up with Wade’s dumbass mouth, he could make an exception just this once.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I felt like Tumblr was seriously lacking in Logan fluff so here ya go!

[mimimarvelingmarvel]

time bound part ten

pairing: worst wolverine!logan howlett x f!mutant!reader

Part Ten - Masterlist

summary: Y/n’s life takes a dramatic turn when the Time Variance Authority intervenes, pulling her from a critical moment in her timeline. The TVA sends her to the void where she eventually meets with Deadpool and a very familiar face. With Deadpool's universe in the balance, alongside his reluctant would-be pal, Wolverine, and the enigmatic time-bending mutant known as the Veil, the trio must complete the mission and save Deadpool’s world from an existential threat.

overall warnings: 18+, Fem!Reader, AFAB Reader, Use of Y/N, Her X-Men name is Veil, She/her pronouns, Swearing, Angst, Heavy Violence, Character Death, Deadpool (he’s his own warning), Hurt, Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut, Slow Burn, TVA

word count: 2.3k

"Look at that, yeah. See them big old hands coming through? Is there not a one-hundred-nothing inside that?" Or at least that’s what I think he said. It’s hard to tell over the roar of the wind whipping through the open windows, his thick accent muddling the words, and the cramped space in the backseat where Logan and I are squeezed together. My focus is elsewhere, drawn to Logan, who stares out the window with that familiar, distant expression, like he's carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. He always seems to have something on his mind, and I can’t help but wonder what it is this time.

The car ride to Cassandra’s lair is pure chaos. Elektra grips the steering wheel with a white-knuckled intensity, her eyes sharp as she navigates the treacherous terrain. The engine growls in protest as we barrel down the uneven road, jostling everyone inside. Laura, Blade, and Gambit are crammed into the backseat with us, their bodies pressed against one another, while Wade rides shotgun, his usual irreverence barely contained.

Up ahead, Johnny flies through the sky, a streak of flame cutting across the clouds as he scouts for any signs of trouble. His flames cast flickering shadows on the ground below, illuminating the path as we race toward our destination.

Deadpool breaks the tense silence, his voice cutting through the wind. “What Gambit’s trying to say is getting Juggernaut’s helmet ain’t gonna be easy. I’m just making stuff up with this.”

Blade doesn’t miss a beat. “Gun.”

Deadpool glances back, spotting the massive firearm Blade has in his hands. “Where do you get that little beauty?”

Elektra’s voice is cold and steady. “That’s the Punisher’s ’84.”

A split second later, the car jolts violently as Blade fires the gun out the window. The force of the shot nearly deafens me, and I flinch as the blast tears through the giant, skeletal hands of Ant-Man, shredding them into a shower of bone fragments. The car skids to a stop, screeching to a halt within the crook of his shattered arms, which now lay lifeless and splintered around us.

We all clamber out of the car, the scent of gunpowder and burnt metal lingering in the air. As we gather ourselves, my eyes are drawn upward to the horde of mutant variants that have gathered to protect Cassandra. They stand like an army ready to defend their queen. High above, Cassandra watches from the eye of a massive skull, her silhouette dark and menacing.

Blade’s grin is feral, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. “Oh, this is gonna be good.”

Gambit cracks his knuckles, a wild gleam in his purple eyes. “You know how long I’ve been waiting for this? Whoo, I’m about to make a name for myself here.”

Logan’s expression darkens, and he looks at me out of the corner of his eye, his knuckles brushing against my elbow. I return his gaze with a sad smile.

“I don’t think you guys walk away from this,” Logan mutters, his voice low and filled with a grim certainty.

Gambit grins, unperturbed. “You just make sure people know what happened here today. When you get out of here, you have a drink for me, yeah?”

Blade steps forward, his tone commanding. “You guys stay on our six, get inside. We’ll make sure you get the package.”

Elektra nods, her gaze steely. “Then we’ll get our ending.”

As if on cue, Johnny lands beside me, his flames flickering out as he touches down. “They’re toast,” he says with a smirk.

I cringe at his words. “You did not just say that.”

He just laughs, but the laughter is cut short as the shouting begins. The battlefield erupts into chaos, a cacophony of clashing blades and explosive gunfire. I charge into the fray, my blade slicing through the air with deadly precision. I sweep my legs over an opponent, feeling the satisfying crunch of bone as I drive my blade into their chest. The adrenaline pumps through my veins as I move with deadly grace, each strike calculated, each move precise.

A vision flashes in my mind, warning me of an enemy approaching from behind. I pivot on my heel, spinning just in time to deflect their attack and drive my blade into their heart. The battle rages on for what feels like an eternity, my body moving on instinct as I cut down one foe after another. Azrael appears before me, his eyes burning with a malevolent fire. We clash again and again, the power of our strikes sending shockwaves through the ground. But I’m faster, and after a brutal exchange, I manage to land a few hits, weakening him just enough to create an opening.

Wade, Logan, and I sprint through the chaos, slipping past the front lines and into the mouth of the skull, where Cassandra awaits. The interior of the skull is dimly lit, the air thick with the stench of decay. Cassandra reclines in a chair, her posture relaxed, a delicate cup of tea in her hand. She looks every bit the picture of calm amid the storm raging outside.

“You three escaping I could live with,” Cassandra says, her voice dripping with condescension. “But coming back, willingly. You’re so silly.”

Deadpool’s voice is strained, his usual bravado tempered by exhaustion. “I just need to get home.”

Cassandra’s smile is cold and devoid of warmth. “Well, that’s not on the menu, I’m afraid. It’s death or enslavement, a la carte, of course. Up!” With a flick of her wrist, Wade is flung into the air, his body slamming into the ceiling with a sickening crunch. He crashes to the floor, groaning in pain as Cassandra turns her gaze on me.

“I think you may be of use,” she muses, her eyes narrowing as she studies me.

Before I can react, she flicks her wrist again, sending a searing pain through my skull. I fall to my knees, clutching my head as the agony intensifies, my vision blurring to white. My mind feels like it’s being torn apart, but just as quickly as it started, the pain stops, leaving me gasping for breath.

“Stay,” Cassandra commands, and I feel my muscles lock into place, immobilizing me where I kneel. My head and neck the only thing I can move.

“It’s nice to give someone else a chance to talk,” she says, motioning towards Wade, who is still groaning in pain on the floor.

Logan’s eyes blaze with fury as he charges at her, claws extended. “Not my strong suit,” he growls.

But Cassandra is faster. With a wave of her hand, she redirects his attack, forcing him to stab his own legs. Logan collapses, blood seeping through his jeans as he gasps in pain. I flinch, unable to bear the sight, and turn away.

Cassandra circles Logan, her curiosity piqued. “You are an interesting one, aren’t you? I do feel like you get lost behind all of this,” she says, gesturing vaguely around her. “Deadpools are a dime a dozen here in The Void. But you, what’s going on in here?” She taps his forehead lightly, her fingers pressing into his skull.

Logan’s pained screams echo through the chamber as she delves into his mind. I close my eyes, trying to block out the sound, but it’s impossible. The anguish in his voice cuts through me, and I grit my teeth, fighting against the hold she has on me.

“Not what I expected back here,” Cassandra murmurs, her tone almost gentle. “You’re hiding from them, from all the ones you let down. So much pain. My little animal.”

Her words ignite a fury deep within me. Logan has spent his whole life being treated like an animal, caged and forced to fight for survival. The anger surges through me, and I struggle against the invisible bonds holding me in place.

I catch sight of Laura throwing down a bag, and Wade, now healed, slowly approaches it. My heart races as I realize what he’s about to do. I stop resisting, instead focusing on keeping Cassandra’s attention on Logan as Wade retrieves Juggernaut’s helmet. I hold my breath as he steps closer and slams the helmet onto her head, gripping her arms tightly as she screams in rage, recoiling from Logan.

Wade’s voice is a deadly whisper. “You’re gonna send us home, then I’m gonna twist your fucking head off.”

Cassandra laughs, the sound sharp and grating. “Why are you laughing?” I ask, a cold dread settling in my stomach.

“I can’t send you unless you get this thing off my head,” Cassandra explains, her voice dripping with malice. “And as soon as you do that, I’m going to boil your brains on an atomic level whilst flicking my bean. Either you kill me, or I kill you. Both wonderful options.”

Deadpool tightens his grip. “You want me to do it?”

Logan shakes his head. “No, I’ll do it.”

Deadpool scoffs. “I have her neck right here, it’s really no problem.”

Logan’s voice cuts through the tension like a blade, his words sharp and unyielding. “You’ll screw it up.”

Deadpool rolls his eyes, exasperation lacing his tone. “Oh, come on, Mr. PG-13, it’s the last one.” His usual bravado feels almost forced, like he’s trying to break through the thick atmosphere hanging over the group.

Suddenly, a gunshot rips through the air, loud and jarring. My heart lurches in my chest, skipping a beat as the sound reverberates around us. 

“No, no, no,” I whisper, my voice trembling with panic. The horror of what’s just happened begins to sink in.

Pyro stands there, his hand still clutching the smoking gun, his expression a mix of defiance and desperation. He’s shot Cassandra. The blood spreads quickly across her clothes, a stark contrast to her pale skin.

“You have no idea what it’s like,” Pyro stammers, his voice shaking as he tries to justify his actions. “Day after day, ‘shovel the shit,’ ‘fetch the meats.’ I have spent my entire exist—”

But Logan doesn’t let him finish. With a brutal efficiency, he silences Pyro with a single, powerful punch. The force of it sends Pyro crumpling to the ground, his words cut off as his body hits the floor.

Logan’s eyes are cold, almost detached, as he looks down at Pyro. “Not everyone gets a speech,” he says flatly, his tone devoid of any sympathy. “She’s gonna die.”

Deadpool, trying to diffuse the situation, steps forward, his voice taking on a slightly desperate edge. “Okay, hey, if I take this helmet off, you promise you won’t kill us?”

Cassandra, even as she bleeds out, doesn’t miss a beat. Her voice, though weaker, is still laced with that same venomous edge. “I promise I will kill her first.”

Logan’s growl is low, menacing, a sound that sends shivers down my spine. 

Deadpool throws up his hands in frustration. “Why are you like this?”

Cassandra sighs, the sound almost wistful. “I wish I knew.”

“Take it off,” Logan orders, his voice brooking no argument.

Deadpool looks at him, confused. “What?”

My eyes dart between Cassandra and Logan, anxiety gnawing at my insides. “Logan, she said she’ll kill me. I don’t like that idea.”

But Logan remains calm, his gaze steady as he meets mine. “Trust me. Take it off.”

Deadpool presses, his voice tinged with doubt. “Why?”

I take a deep breath, the tension in the air almost suffocating. After a moment, I nod, my voice barely above a whisper. “Take it off.”

Deadpool hesitates, his usual confidence faltering. “This is our only chance to fix our shit.”

Logan snaps, his patience fraying. “Take it off! I am wearing this suit. And that means a lot of things, but most of all, it means I’m an X-Man. I am the X-Man. And I know your brother. As much as I want to fucking kill you—every bone in my body wants to fucking kill you—he would not let me stand here and watch you die. Take your hands off. This is for him. This is for Charles.”

With deliberate movements, Logan removes the helmet, the gesture heavy with significance.

Cassandra’s expression softens, her voice losing some of its harshness. “My brother loved you.”

Logan nods, his voice quiet, filled with a deep, unspoken emotion. “He loved all of us.”

Cassandra sighs, a bittersweet smile playing on her lips. “Hmm. Must be nice.”

Logan’s voice is steady, filled with quiet conviction. “He would have loved you too. If he knew about you, if he knew where you were, he would have torn a hole in the fucking universe to bring you home.”

Cassandra’s smile turns bitter, her eyes darkening. “This is home.”

Logan’s gaze is intense, almost pleading. “Then at least let us save his.”

Cassandra’s eyes flicker with something almost like understanding. “You wanna hear something crazy?” she says, her tone shifting. “An amateur magician roamed through here a while back. I killed him, of course, wore his skin around for four days. But I found this little trinket on his lovely fingers.”

With a flourish, she begins to open a portal, the swirling energy forming a glowing circle.

Deadpool’s eyes widen in amazement. “Strange. Marvel’s sparkle circle.”

Logan eyes the portal warily. “What is that?”

Cassandra smirks, the glint of mischief returning to her gaze. “This is your way home. I do owe you for saving my life, but let’s keep things interesting. I’d say you have about four seconds before your life’s through.”

Wade grins. “Race you!”

Without hesitation, the three of us bolt toward the rapidly closing portal, the adrenaline surging through my veins. We leap through it just in time, the sensation of free-falling overwhelming as the portal closes behind me, leaving us to face whatever awaits on the other side.

Next Part

A/N: Boring chapter imo but i have big plans tehe

taglist: @oscarissac2099 @somiaw @100percentlazybonez @obsessedwthdilfs @sun7lowxr @corvid007

[catyo90]

I already lost you once...

Warning: Logan x F!Reader (Smut) Minors DNI)

In your universe, your Logan was taken from you, not his life, but his memories. He was made to forget who you were by Stryker, one bullet was all it look for him to forget everything about you. And you were tortured every night and day by it. The moment you tried to fix it, to get the life you had with him back for good. The TVA erased you. Took your home, friends, family and lover away with no way of getting out.

That was years ago. You wondered through the void all alone, sometimes running into variants. In that time you never stopped trying to get back to him, that was until you found out your Logan was long since dead, when you met Laura, she was from the same universe as you. She told you everything and offered you to join her and a small band of others to survive in this cruel world.

What choice did you have, little did you know that one day. You would get your chance to see him again.

-

You woke up grabbing your long black cloak with a matched pair of dark green tube top and army pants, you looked at yourself in the broken mirror, the cold dogs tags you held onto for a moment before leaving. You walked out over hearing Gambit speaking to someone about drinking his whiskey. You sighed as you stood in the doorway, you froze in place as you saw a Deadpool variant looking over to you with curiosity.

"Whoa, and who is this fem fetal who looks like a early 2000s spice girl, which one are you? Oh oh let me guess, Foxy Spice, no wait that doesn't work, oh.." His voice faded as you looked past him, after so long you almost couldn't believe it.

"Logan...?"

His eyes widened a bit as he turned around, and he looked like he had seen a ghost, hell in his world you were, along with everyone else. Everyone was silent, even Deadpool was for once was quiet as he had both hands on his face realizing the look you both shared as you walked up to Logan.

"Y/n..."

You looked into his eyes and saw in them nothing but pain and anguish. The sight of you being alive and well was almost too much for him. And the sound of your name coming off his lips made you shiver. it had been so long since you heard your name said like that.

'I'm a little surprised you know me..." He stepped a little closer as you spoke seeing the same dog tags he wore in his early years. He never would give those away lightly. He knew what you meant to him in your universe. You looked over your shoulder at the others and whispered to Logan.

"We will speak later..." you looked up at him as he nodded in agreement. But before you stepped away you felt him grab your wrist for a moment, you saw his fingers wrap around to touch your pulse. He just needed to know you were actually here and alive and not a damn illusion or hallucination. He let your wrist go as you walked over to Gambit and spoke with him for a moment. Wade snuck in and whispered to Logan.

"If you were waiting for the opportune time to finally get some action in the last 200 years of your life...that was it."

"Will you shut the hell up?!"

"Never. For I am Marvel Jesus and my words are holy."

Logan rolled his eyes as he took another bottle of whiskey as he listened to the made up plan Wade made half assed. As he leaned against the wall chugging down the bottle his eyes couldn't help but wonder to you, and neither could you. Both your glances would met causing you to blush and him to smirk to himself knowing all too well the effect he was having on you.

-

After the plan was formed and the sun was beginning to set, Blade and gambit decided to have a few drinks together as Elektra was sharpening her twin blades as she watched Laura practicing on the dummies with her own blades. You on the other hand were looking around for Logan, you closed your eyes using your seismic sense, you could see the vibrations in everyone movements and could differ who was who from the the difference is each one, not even Wade was able to surprise you as he popped out form behind leaning a arm against the doorway.

"You looking for a certain beast."

"More like I already found him. Wade. Can I ask you a question about him?"

"Yes, he likes the rough play."

"How do you...never mind..."

'Oh come now child, all confessions to the Marvel Jesus shall be heard."

"Why is he with you?"

Wade was silent as he looked around like he could get stabbed any moment. He moved you into the hall and spoke carefully.

"In his world he's the fucking worst, like everyone died, but now he's here trying to fix it with me cause I made an educated wish. He knows how to save people. And we need him."

"An educated wish?"

"yeah yeah I know. but listen... he spoke of you, and how the last thing he saw that made him loss all hope was seeing you dead in his arms. In my world he was the definition of a hero, and now...we are gonna fucking fix everything."

You sighed. You sensed this Logan was different, but to know you had died in his world. You looked up at Wade and smiled.

"In my world, he died long ago, but Laura told me everything that happened, how he lost so much, the pain of losing all those he loved. Rose, Kayla, Jean, Atsuko, But no matter what, he kept fighting. Every time he uses those claws he feels physical pain, but every night he is haunted by nightmares. I'm sure this Logan faced many pains like mine. But his eyes were the same. The same eyes I fell in love with."

"Jeez, you sound like a poet now, well why don't you go find him and give him a ballad he will never forget."

"I think he got enough fun time with you in that car, from what Laura says, there was clearly some fun times going on there."

"I never kiss and tell honey." Wade said as heard a whistle seeing Gambit motioning him over for a drink. You smirked as Blade groaned as Wade walked up to them saying how he was gonna show them a good time. Whatever inuendo he meant by that.

You looked outside and saw at the campfire near the car, both Logan and Laura were speaking to each other, you smiled at the sight as you walked over and saw Laura look at you and smiled as she placed a hand on Logan's shoulder. He looked at her and nodded to her as he looked back at the fire in front of him. You flipped your cloak over the log and sat beside him as he offered you the bottle of whiskey for a sip but you declined.

"Not a hard liquor kind of girl."

He smirked as he remembered, it had been so long since he had spoken to you, to see you again after so long. It was almost unnerving for him, but he still was for once is his miserable long life, glad to see you again.

"You wanted to talk earlier. I'm gonna assume you have questions?" He said as he threw the empty bottle toward the fire.

"I only wanted to ask how you knew me in your world, but Wade seems to have painted a uneasy but clear picture for me."

Logan gave a sharp eyed glance at Wade as he groaned in annoyance. He looked at you and glanced down at the dog tags you wore around your neck.

"I gave those to you, I mean I personally didn't but your version...fuck you know what I talking about right?"

"it's alright Logan, from what I can tell you and me were both together in both universes, but fate decided, we didn't belong."

"Fate has nothing to do with it."

"You don't believe in it?"

"No I don't, my version of you died and your version of me died. We got the short end of the stick but look at both of us now. No one gets the chance to see their loved ones again...this is all because of that asshole." He smirked pointing over his shoulder to Wade.

"Better not let him hear you, he'll never stop talking about it then."

You both chuckled at the horrifying thought, it had been a long time since you laughed, hell since you felt any joy at all. After all this time you were finally given the chance to see him again, to hear his voice. You looked at him and brought a hand up to his.

"Can I hold your hand?"

He said nothing as he held out his hand as you took off the gloves he was wearing and held your hand in his. The everlasting scars on his hands from his claws slightly showed, even with a healing factor as great as his you come see them. His hand warm to the touch and slightly rough, no doubt from all the fighting and hard labor he did in the past. You closed your eyes as your seismic sense could feel the metal underneath, it was there you could see all the wounds he took, his adamantium skeleton though healed to others, you saw micro fractures everywhere. Every break and every cut he suffered. Clear as day.

You had your hand roam up his muscular arm causing you to blush a little as you saw a familiar break in his bone. It matched exactly to how your Logan got it.

"This was from Sabertooth. Your brother. He came after you one night and had me by the throat trying to hold leverage over you. You fought him and in-between all the cuts and gashes, he managed to break your arm....and that when I used my powers on him. And in so doing...I hurt you as well.

You remembered how your seismic sense caused the metal bones in his body to vibrate and caused pain for him as each bone hit the other. You were still trying to control your powers at this point, but you remembered feeling awful after Sabertooth fled.

Logan looked at you and saw the matching scar along your neck. The same one his version had.

"I remember that night...but if I recall, or at least with my version of you. The night had a lot of exercise and no sleep."

You looked at him and laughed to yourself. He wasn't wrong

"Yeah it was...sorry this is just so...surreal." you said letting go of his hand but he still left the gloves off. You smirked at him as you took off your cloak, the heat from the fire was making you warm. Or at least you thought in that moment. You looked over at the others and saw they were retiring for the night. Wade of course gave you a wink as he blew a kiss to Logan as he helped a very drunk Gambit into the base. Both sights causing you to laugh to yourself. Logan looked at you with small smile.

You smirked as you looked at him once more this time give him a curious look.

"So...I have to ask. Am I...anything like your version. I'm sure we had some differences but I am curious."

He said nothing as he looked at you bring a hand to move a loose stand away from your face as he spoke.

"No matter what universe...your perfect."

You blushed hard as watched him move his hand away for a moment. He fingers flexed with want, he knew it had been...well forever since he felt any affection. But this ...this was different.

"I suppose we should get some rest, after all, it will be a long fight." You said standing up for a moment before looking at him.

But Logan didn't move, something you sensed in him was causing him to stay put as he looked at the fire and then turned to you. You saw him look away from you for a moment, you sat back down and leaned your head closer to him.

"Are you alri-" your words were cut off when you felt his hand grab a hold of your chin and his lips met yours. A thousand sparks seem to go on at once, your eyes closed as you wrapped your arms around his neck instinctively. It had been so long...so long since you had been kissed by him. You felt his other hand grip the back of your head becoming lost in your hair. You felt a small twinge of pain on yours lips as you knew they would be sore if it continued. He stopped himself catching his breath as he opened his eyes to look at you with a small bit of regret in his eyes.

"Logan..."

"I can't. It feels wrong. Like we are cheating...on each other."

You looked away for a moment. He wasn't entirely wrong. But you when you looked up at him you knew that what you were feeling was only for him. You sighed as you brought both hands to either side of his face making his breathing heighten as well as his want that you could in-between both of you.

"Logan, I love you. No matter what universe, no matter what version of us. I know across the entire multiverse. I only love you. No other." You gave a kind smile as you kissed his cheeks and then brought the kids to his lips as you brought your arms around his neck.

The defense in his body shattered in that instance. His arms wrapped around you tightly as he kissed you back harder and rougher. Even a small growl escaped his throat. Every kiss he gave felt divine as he paused for a moment looking around. You were about to inquire but before you could he grabbed you hand and led you away from fire, leading you into the woods. He stopped when he couldn't hear or smell the others and turned to look at you.

"Did we have to go so far?"

"I'm not letting that walking pain in the ass interrupt us." He said as he pulled you against his body. But still giving you a chance to turn him down.

You smirked as you grabbed a hold of his x men uniform with both hands, pulling him in close to you and kissed him. For a few moments, Logan didn't react. He felt himself quickly start to feel faint. This wasn't what he had expected you to do, but it certainly wasn't unwelcome.

His thoughts wondered to how long he had wanted this. It felt like eons since he felt this way for anyone. After everything that happened to him, he barely dared to hope. But now, with the feeling of your soft lips on his... they were so soft. His mind couldn't help too imagine how that luscious mouth of yours would feel elsewhere. He would give anything to know. Every moment your lips met his, you sensed his whole body tensing up. You expected him to quickly push you away and perhaps admonish the both of you for going too far. You then felt him move. You broke the kiss and started to let go of his suit, when to your surprise, you felt him wrap his arms around you and pull you in tightly, bringing your mouth back up to his for more.

He kissed you deeply, his lips quickly parted yours, giving you one passionate kiss after another. Despite the roughness of his skin, the ever so slight growth of facial hair brushing against your own, his lips were surprisingly soft even given his outer appearance and gruff personality.

Though the two of you should have been quiet, you soon found yourselves moaning softly into each other's mouths. Feeling a bit faint, you wrapped your arms around his neck for support as you felt you were starting to lose strength in your legs. He in turn held you closer to him, though it wasn't enough for him. The woods started to become filled with the sounds of deep breaths and lips parting and meeting again.

Before you knew it, you felt a nearby tree hit your back. With his mouth still on yours, he pushed himself up against you. He reached down, took your left leg and placed it around his waist. Causing you to moan in loud volume but you couldn't care.

With your arms still around his neck, he soon had you pinned to the tree looking down at you with lust filled eyes. The both of you should have been listening for any rogue variants or maybe any other unknown dangers but the only sounds that filled your ears were the erotic sounds that the two of you were making together

With you hanging onto him for dear life, his hands were free to do as he saw fit. One was busy holding your leg up, the other was braced against the tree.. His thoughts wandered to the string cords on your clothes. They wandered further, imagining what garments might be underneath.

He brought his hand down against your back kissing you even harder and rougher

You wouldn't have noticed if you had not suddenly felt the sweet sensation of his leather gloved hand starting to caress your tender neck.

"Fuck..." He said. You whimpered lightly as you felt him glide his fingers along your skin. All the times you had imagined him caressing you came to the forefront, making you forget everything else.

While keeping one arm around his neck, you took his hand in yours. He started to wonderif it was too much. That concern soon vanished the moment he felt you place his hand on your breast.

“Keep going.”

Logan let his hand wander up and down. Your own free hand wandered over his chest, over the hero suit and even the thin clothes that he wore underneath. Reaching further down to his waist, your fingers found his belt, which you attempted to do with one hand, but no luck.

Still your want to please him grew as you brought your hand back down to his waist. You couldn't get the belt loose, but you definitely could manage to get your hand inside his trousers. He moaned louder than ever before as he felt your hand venture down his navel and towards his very hard cock. The closer you got, the more his breath shortened. He was beyond eager to feel you take him in your hand.

The moment he felt you grasp him, he broke the kiss, gasping deeply as he felt your soft hand move up and down the length of him. It had been so long since someone had pleasured him like this, he almost came undone right there and then.

He buried his face in your neck, kissing you up, down and across, becoming more and more aroused hearing you moan just for him. His breathed deepened as he felt you continue to work his length in such a pleasurable way.

Logan was doing his best to center his thoughts, but with you pinned between him and the tree, it was all but impossible. He grabbed your waist and pulled you closer. As you looked up at him you realized how his gaze was focused on your face. He eyes filled with what looked to be lust and sorrow. He kissed you deeply, slipping his tongue into your mouth as his thumb stroked your cheek. He pulled away after a moment and looked at you with eyes full of adoration. “I missed you, Y/N.” he whispered before pulling you into another kiss.

You knew what he meant, you both had missed this feeling after so long. It was the one good thing you both felt in many years. In this moment being different versions didn't matter.

You reached your hands to his belt and undid it quickly looking him deep in the eyes. as you wrapped your palm around his now hard member. You squeezed and jerked on him while kissing him with tongue.

Logan growled into the kiss as you started to jerk him off. Every few seconds he would purr before returning to kiss your lips. He missed you so much that just a bit of your touch made him rock hard.

You gently pushed him down onto the ground, trying to be careful to not hurt him. The soft grass giving you both some comfort and the cool air making both of you feel a rush of excitement. You tugged his pants down and pumped his shaft few times before taking him in your mouth.

Logan gasped and looked down on you. “Fuck, Y/N.” He moaned quietly before moving his hand into your hair to gain some of the control over your movement. He bucked his hips to push himself deeper into your throat, he was desperate for any feeling.

You pulled him out of your mouth to lick the vein along the side. You sucked the tip before sucking it back into you mouth and bobbing head quickly back and forth making a popping noise as you catch your breath. Your free hand gripped at his other hand causing you to intertwine each other hands as you deep-throated him.

“Fuck.” He gasped and rolled his head back into the lush grass. You felt him grab your hair and your head down closer, pushing his cock as deep as possible. He emptied himself into your throat and sighed loudly. “I forgot how much I missed the feel of your mouth around me.” He teased you.

“Logan” you said as you slipped out of your pants and panties and straddled his bearded face. “If you’ll be a good boy, you’ll get the grand prize,” you informed.

Logan growled lowly as he removed the rest of his suit. You smiled as he wrapped his arms around your hips, pulling you down to place gently kisses on your clit and lips. First, he played with you by sucking your lips gently before pushing just the tip of his tongue past your lips. Soon he started to eat you at like a hungry beast.

“Oh...fuck. Logan ahhhh.,” your head rolled back as the pleasure was already unbearable. You'd wanted this after so long. You craved him and his touch, he was spinning your head round. You bucked your hips quickly trying to get more friction while you reached your hand back to jerk over his yet hard again member.

Just when you thought the pleasure was at its peak you suddenly felt him pressing his face to your heat, pushing his tongue deeper into you. One of his hand moved from your hip to your entrance. You saw as he looked up at you before he started pushing two fingers into you. Now he was eating you out while fingering you.

“Fuck oh my god,” you grunted feeling your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you continued to try your best jerking harder at his cock. Soon, you got felt a wave of euphoria as you came on his face. He adjusted so he could lean upward as he brought you down to kiss his lips, you tasted your wetness on them. He wrapped his arms around you causing you to straddle his lap as he guided his cock right to your entrance, he looked at you once more before the pleasurable pain you felt causing you both to moan as his cock entered, he growled.

"Fucking hell, you pussy is sucking me in so hard."

He smiled and gladly kissed you as he started to buck his hips into you while gripping hard onto one of your breasts. You knew in the morning there would be marks, he started kissing and biting your neck as his fingers played with your hardened nipple as he slammed into even harder.

Your entrance convulsed when his cock twitched against it. It was needy for anything, gaping and closing on repeat. He chuckled as he felt it.

“Just like that Logan...fuck...ah...make me cum...around your sweet cock,” you moaned into his ear as your nails dug into his shoulders causing red marks to appear making him growl in both pain and pleasure as he moved his lips away before biting at your lips and kissing you even harder than before. You bucked your hips for him as well, his cock was spreading your inner walls more and more with every thrust.

Logan purred as his hand traveled to your clit to rub gently circles there. His thrusts became deeper and faster. You cried out when you engulfed all of him and his face snuggled into the crook of your neck to bring you comfort. An embarrassing, dragged out whine slipped past your lips as you took more of his thick girth.

"God, yes, yes, yes!,” You suddenly felt your back hit the ground as his well toned muscled body towered over you as you threw your head back in an outburst of pleasure that overwhelmed your body. Cold shivers ran down your spine. He took both your leg and placed them above his hips, his hand traveled to your clit to continue his fun while he fucked into you even harder and rougher than before.

You watched the way your hole eagerly swallowed his cock from below. It was fast and passionate as he finally fucked you onto his cock, groaning lowly into your ear.

It was easy for him to lift you due to his strength, he would undeniably be able to snap you in half if he really wanted to. A few more pumps, then he muttered.

"Sorry if you wanted to keep it this way." He followed you as he pulled you up onto all fours, his muscled arm wrapped tightly around your waist. Using his forearm for support, a tortuous pull out occurred once again before he snapped your hips together.

You choked out a moan as you pulled your hips back in response. He inhaled sharply and continued rocking his hips with yours. His girth blissfully stretched you out, his cock rubbing against that one spot. His torso emitted heat and as much as it left you in a blissful daze, his reckless hips provided a merciless pounding, the studs gliding against your walls only added more pressure and need to arch your back.

"Y/n...fuck your so tight."

Despite the heat, the overwhelming pleasure, the man behind you, it all just wasn't enough. You wanted to rake your fingers through his thick hair and tug, watch his beautifully flushed face and blazed eyes, run your hands all over his chiseled body.

So, you whimpered and grabbed the arm securing you. "I wanna see you—" A harsh thrust had you biting back a moan and interrupting a thought-out yet simple phrase, that took so much time to piece together when all you had was Logan's name and dick carved into your mind.

A grunt was let out into your ear, a moment later, his hips melded with yours and his thrusting halted. He loosened his grip on you and you rolled over to face him, your hands latching onto his hair in an instant as you brought him closer. A humiliating cry fucked out of your throat. You threw your hands to his back as a reflex.

The veins along his chest and neck stand out, head lifting slightly off the ground as his fingers grip tighter at your chest, his cheeks flush red and his lips part again as he growls deep, guttural sounds. Then, you feel his dick inside you pulse, his strong hips lock into yours as he spasms and spills, his cum hot and thick as you continue to move. He throws his head back again then, jaw dropped as he moans, his eyes squeezed shut and body trembling in time with the spurts of his seed within you. 

Oh, my sweet—" You almost purr, trailing your hands along his forearms, still rocking your hips slightly as you come into his space, lips trailing along the curve of his jaw. He leaned his head down to you placing his forehead against yours taking deep breathes

"You're gorgeous." 

You blush profusely as he chuckles, his hands sliding down to your ass, you press kisses against the underside of his chin until he finally tilts his head down and allows your mouth to cover his. You kiss him languidly, dipping your tongue between his lips, breathing each other's air, feeling his fingers squeeze at your pillowy flesh as he eventually lifts his legs and uses the bit of leverage to thrust his still hard cock slowly in and out. Your whole body shutters beneath him, feeling his cum begin to overflow, sliding wet down the backs of your thighs, and you shiver. 

"You haven't come." He mumbles against your lips.

You smooth your hands up over his cheeks, forehead and all the way up to his hair, lifting from your lover's lips to smile slyly up at him.

"Would you hate me if I asked you to keep going?" 

Logan groans, his hands shifting down to your hips. his length shifting inside you and you gasp as you're pressed harder into the grass, your legs winding around his hips.

"After 200 years...you may be the death of me." 

"Death by fucking too much? There are worse ways to go." You hum happily as the he takes your hands in his and stretches your arms above your head to pin them down against the ground, his weight crushing you, forcing his cock deeper inside. You whimper and your eyes roll, toes curling at how entirely full you feel.

"A—ah, fuck—?"

His grip tightens around your hands and he pulls his hips back until he's almost the entire way out before he slams his sensitive cock back into your pussy. You feel his cum pushing out of you, pushing deeper inside you, each movement causing his entire body to shudder and tremble as he fights through his overstimulation to please you. You reward him with unabashed sounds of satisfaction, your heels digging into the backs of his thighs to urge him on, your hips bucking up to meet his thrusts. Knowing all too well the want to not get caught left your minds from the start.

Logan lowers himself, his entire body encompassing yours with its size as he rocks his hips into you, his dick twitching within your clenching walls, loud, almost pained sounds of unbelievable pleasure muffled against your neck as he feels you unravel around him. You reach your peak, it hits you hard, you turn your face into the crook of his neck as mouth opens in a soundless scream of euphoria. 

You don't know when it happens, but all at once somewhere in the middle of your moaning, Logan makes a wounded noise and you're flooded once again with seed, delirious and writhing beneath him as you take it. You hear the sound of his claws unsheathed as his hips trust more and more until he's empty and your completely full.

He finally releases your hands and slumps on top of you, careful not to completely crush you underneath him, but curling into you and holding tight. You throw your arms around him, breathing erratic as you pulse through your climax, threading your fingers through his hair and clutching him to your body as you feel his smile against your collarbone. 

No words are said as the scent of sex and sweat permeates around the two of you. Both of you holding each other for some time, enjoying the post orgasmic bliss. Lips meet meld into lazy kisses, noses pressed against each other. Both of you share breath as you kiss, too exhausted to pull apart.

HIs muscular arms envelope your body, cradling you protectively. Together relishing in the feeling of the rise and fall of the the others chest, both familiar and new.

You feel your eyes flutter closed, easing into Logan's warm embrace.

-

The next time your eyes open, the sun almost over the horizon. You look around to see Logan is no where in sight. You wondering where he could have gotten to, you sat up looking over toward the sound of the others at the base.

The sound of the others reaches the small woods, conversation just barely too far off to be made out. You see Logan walking into the clearing with a large bucket of warm water and a wash rag with him.

"Logan...are you-"

Before you can speak he takes one of your hands and begins to press the warm damp fabric against your skin. His motion is slow and purposeful. You couldn't help but sigh. Your Logan was always surpassing your expectations of a lover. Here he was, it may not be your Logan caring for you, but in a way you couldn’t have dreamt of asking this from him.

He looks at you seeing a hint of tenderness in your eyes. Soon your guided to twist to face away from him, his strong arms pressing the warm cloth against your sore muscles and long healed scars.

You moaned sighs at the sensation, he takes care to clean every surface of your body. His eyes are focused, consumed wholly in this act of love. You watch him. Adoration and love builds up in your chest at the ways his eyebrows crease and his eyes focus.

You turn your body back to face him, both of you shareing a longing look. He sees into your very person, and you into his. His eyes drift between your legs, and worry enters his mind.

“I - lost myself in the moment. I shouldn't have done that.”

You placed an affectionate hand over your lower belly with a subtle smile.

“Don't worry Logan, I'm not upset. It felt good in the moment." He moves in closer as you lie back down against the grass, spreading her legs for him. You feel the warm rag against you, the touch isn’t sexual, But rather filled with the same love and care it had pressed into her skin just a moment before.

"I don’t regret it at all.” You say as you pull him to lay beside you.

"Do you?" You asked as you felt your heart beat quicken. With a sigh and a smile he combs out your hair with his fingers, moving the loose strands of hair away from your face.

"Never."

You relaxed as you felt him melting in your arms, content beyond all measure, whispering words of love and devotion in your ear.

"We should probably head back soon, otherwise Wade may find us."

"If he does he can fuck off." Logan said pulling you in closer as you chuckled to yourself. You smiled up at him as you brought your head against his chest, a few more hours would be alright, at least for now.

[waywardxrhea]

Matthew

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

Word count: 2.5k

In the midst of your mourning of Matt after the events of Midland Circle, you decide to visit Clinton Church to feel closer to him. 

Content: angst and lots of it, canon typical violence, guns, language (in a church, whoops), mental breakdown. 

Now playing: Matthew by Hey Violet

“Matt… He didn’t make it out before the building collapsed. I’m sorry…”

Those words had haunted you every day for months now. You remembered feeling your whole world crashing down around you as your heart shattered into a million little pieces. Your knees had gone numb and you collapsed into Karen’s arms as she told you the horrible news. You had felt pain before, sure, but the worst of it didn’t even touch that of what you felt when you were faced with the fact that Matt had been in the middle of a building collapse and they hadn’t even been able to recover his body. 

The cloud of insurmountable grief hung low around you ever since, and today its burden felt heavier than normal. So you decided to go to the one place you felt you could be close to Matt: Clinton Church. You hadn’t been there since the funeral and as you walked from the train station, you were tormented with the memory of the night Matt left. 

You were in the middle of cooking dinner for you and Matt when he entered the apartment in a rush, tossing his glasses and cane away quickly before following them with his suit jacket and tie. Sensing the urgency in the way he moved toward the closet to grab his Daredevil suit, you placed the spoon on its rest and asked tentatively, “Everything okay?” 

Matt shook his head as he began haphazardly stripping out of his court clothes, telling you, “The Hand. We’re taking them down tonight.”

Closing your eyes and letting out a quiet sigh, you said, “Matt, please. Please don’t go, I… I just don’t have a good feeling about this. Ever since you told me about what’s been going on with them I’ve been having these nightmares and-”

You were cut off by Matt placing a gentle kiss to your lips, one of his hands holding your chin in place as he did. When he pulled away and released his grip on you, he kissed your cheek before saying, “I know, sweetheart. And I’m sorry, but I really have to go. This could be the only opportunity we get to take them down and I’ll be damned if they keep on ruining lives because I didn’t step in to stop them. I can get through to Elektra. And when I do, this will all be over with.”

You opened your mouth to protest once more, but knew that it would fall upon deaf ears because once Matt had his mind set on something there was no stopping him. It was something you both admired and were terrified of. So you shut your mouth once more and nodded, trying desperately to hold back the sob building in your chest as your emotions began to well up in your eyes. 

Matt was suited up in record time and gave you a quick hug before heading up the stairs that would take him to the rooftop access. He was nearly at the door before you could even clear your throat and calm your shallow breathing enough to whisper, “I love you. Be safe.” You weren’t even sure he heard it as he threw open the door and flew out of it, not acknowledging the statement in his state of hypervigilance on the sounds of the city. 

Walking into the church felt odd and you offered your best tight-lipped smile to a kind looking man who held the door open for you on his way out. As you walked into the beautiful sanctuary, a new wave of emotions hit you and as your breathing became shallow, you felt light headed and nauseous. Your mind was bombarded with flashes of that night. Of screaming your throat raw in both anger and sadness. Of the funeral. Of the image from your nightmares that had plagued you ever since: Matt’s bloodied and lifeless body. 

A sharp gasp left your chest as a hand was placed on your shoulder and startled you back into reality where you realized you were now leaning most of your body weight onto the back of a pew, trying not to collapse. Through a feeling of cotton in your ears, you heard your name being called softly and you looked up to see the kind eyes of Father Lantom looking back at you. “Are you okay?” he asked, worry evident in his voice. 

Are you okay? 

The stupid question everyone kept asking you. Of course you weren’t okay. In what version of reality would you be okay after losing Matt? You couldn’t tell most people what really happened, your story always landing on the lie that he had been in the financial building on late night business for the firm when it collapsed. It felt like a disservice to Matt’s memory to lie about what he was really doing in there trying to save lives, but it was what you had promised him when he first revealed to you that he was Daredevil: you weren’t to tell a soul. So you didn’t. It was a secret you would take to the grave with you. 

Are you okay? 

As stupid as the question was, and as obvious as the answer was, you were never able to answer because every time someone asked you ended up crying and unable to speak. So just as it had happened every time before, you choked on a sob before the floodgates opened and your vision became blurred by tears, your knees becoming too weak to hold your body weight. You were barely even aware of Father Lantom and a nun guiding you around the edge of the pew and into the plush seat as you slipped off into the depths of a breakdown. 

When you came back to your senses, a small water bottle was being coaxed into your hand and you glanced up to see a stern looking nun gesture for you to take a drink before she got up and left you with the Father. He patted you on the back before telling you, “I have a feeling you’re here to be close to him. Take the time you need. I’ll be nearby if you need me.” You nodded as he got up, watching as he wandered over to someone else to offer his presence in their own time of need. 

Praying had never been your strong suit, so instead of doing that, once you found your voice, you just began talking aloud to the ceiling as if Matt were there. “Hey Matty… I uh… I came here because I’m really struggling right now. I miss you a lot.” You quietly cleared your throat as fresh tears rolled down your cheeks. “I don’t really know what I’m doing so I guess I’ll just tell you what’s been going on.” 

Feeling your keys poking into your thigh reminded you of a little keychain you had on there, so you sighed and said, “They decided to close down Fogwell’s… Not enough members coming anymore.” A quiet huff of laughter left your lips before you added, “Sometimes I feel like you were the only one keeping them in business, but now…” 

Your voice broke again, so you changed course, telling him, “Oh and that piss-beer you drink is more expensive now. It tastes like shit and you know I hate beer, but I keep buying it because it reminds me of you… Dad likes it enough so it doesn’t go to waste.” Sighing, you chewed on your lip before adding, “That reminds me. I moved out of the apartment and back to Hamilton Heights with my parents. I just… I couldn’t stand the quiet of you not being there. God, I would take a million changes though if it meant that you’d still be here…”

The metallic taste of blood suddenly flooded your mouth and only then did you realize that in your minutes of regaining your composure after that statement you had bit into your cheek to keep from completely losing it again. Cringing at the taste, you swallowed it down before telling Matt, “I’ve been really lonely since everything happened… I had to get a new job closer to Mom and Dad’s and it’s hard opening up to anyone so I haven’t really made any friends there. I… I haven’t talked to Karen or Foggy since the funeral either. They remind me too much of you. I know it sounds selfish but…” 

More tears began falling from your eyes and a quiet sob escaped before you said, “I miss your voice so much. It’s been so long since I’ve heard it and I regret ever deleting your voicemails because now it’s getting harder to remember what you sounded like…” Taking a shaking breath, you added, “And I regret stopping my daily journaling. Every time I think of you I just get bombarded by horrible flashbacks and it’s hard to remember the little things. The good things. Those entries from the start of our relationship are all I have left of you and I and it kills me that I don’t have more…”

With your breathing beginning to become shallow again, you opted to finish up before you ended up in another breakdown. “And I know I couldn’t save you from yourself Matthew, but I’ll hold you inside.” Your throat was tight with emotion and you had to swallow hard to even get out your last question to Matt, “Will you haunt me until the day I die?”

“The bastard isn’t gonna have to haunt you for long,” came a deep voice from behind. You froze in fear as you suddenly felt the cold metal of the barrel of a gun pressed against the back of your head. There was a momentary battle in your head between logic and your nagging hopelessness before the latter won out and you let out a slow breath as you accepted what was about to happen, closing your eyes and readying yourself for the Reaper to come get you. 

The shot never came though. Instead, your eyes sprung open when you heard someone near the front of the sanctuary scream. There was a scuffle behind you and you heard fists pounding into flesh and the voice of the man with the gun pleading for mercy before he stopped and you assumed he passed out. You turned around and blinked hard at the sight in front of you. You held tight to the back of the pew, your knuckles turning white as you tried to steady yourself and your spinning head to concentrate on the sight in front of you. Your mind had to be playing tricks on you because there was no way you were looking at Matt Murdock with a piece of fabric haphazardly tied over the top half of his face to hide his identity from the parishioners in the church. 

“Matt?” you asked in disbelief. 

“Get her to safety, I’ll deal with him,” he said, directing his immediate attention to the stern-looking nun who made a reappearance after ushering terrified church-goers out of the building. 

“Follow me, please,” she said as helped you up from the pew. 

Your head was spinning as you were forced up to your feet and into the basement of the church where you were placed on a messily made bed and told that you would be safe there. A flurry of confusion, fear, sadness, and betrayal swirled around in your mind as you tried to make sense of what was happening. Clearly it was real because the nun responded to what Matt had said and the man wasn’t able to kill you. But how? How did he-

“Are you okay?” came Matt’s gravelly voice as he entered the basement, ripping the fabric from his head as he approached and kneeled on the ground in front of you. 

Are you okay? 

This time you weren’t sure if you should be upset or happy or angry in response to the question because there he was, kneeling right in front of you. Alive. Matt wasn’t dead. 

You decided on throwing your arms around him in the tightest embrace you could muster as you shook your head and whispered, “How could you? You bastard…”

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” he replied, voice breaking as he returned your hug, his fists clutching onto the fabric of your top. “I messed up. I thought that you would all be better off without me. Without the danger of being close to me. So when that building collapsed and I somehow made it out alive I decided that Matt Murdock was dead.”

“You slipped like sand right through my fingers, did I not love you enough? If you didn’t want to live as you anymore?” you asked, your voice muffled by his shirt.

“No. Never,” he told you firmly. “I did this to protect you.”

“That isn’t your decision to make for me,” you said, your voice breaking again. 

“I know that now and I’m sorry. I just… I thought that you’d be safer without me. But now Fisk is sending his men after you and you still aren’t safe.” Matt finally pulled away from your embrace and tentatively caressed your cheek with a small smile on his lips. “I missed you. And I love you. And I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you’re safe.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, wiping away a stray tear that escaped your eye. 

Matt made his way onto the bed beside you and the two of you just held each other for a few minutes before he cleared his throat and said cautiously, “Right…right before I stopped that man from shooting you, your whole body relaxed and your stress levels dropped… What was that about?”

You stopped breathing for a moment when he asked this. After taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, you replied truthfully, “I…I was ready to die. At least then I would have been with you instead of here suffering without.”

Matt had never pulled you into his embrace faster than he did when you admitted that. As he held you close, you could feel him shaking as he cried and you ran a hand up and down his back, trying to calm him down in turn. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he managed to get out between broken breaths. 

You too were overcome with emotions, so you did what you could and held Matt impossibly closer until you were able to come back to yourself. “I meant everything I said up there by the way. Those were the most miserable months of my life.” You pulled away slightly and hesitantly kissed his cheek before telling him, “Please don’t leave me again.”

“I won’t,” he promised. “We’re going to make sure you’re safe and I’m going to take care of Fisk then everything can go back to normal.”

A huff of laughter left your lips before you told him, “Matthew. Your life is anything but normal.”

“Well as normal as it can be. And when the dust clears I hope you’ll still be willing to be by my side,” he said. 

“Forever and always,” you told him, leaning in for a kiss which he reciprocated in the most tender way he could. When the kiss ended, you rested your forehead on his and mumbled, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” 

And somehow in that moment, even after everything that had happened, you felt okay.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

a/n: okay ngl y’all i cried when i wrote this whoops 😅

anywho! likes and comments are always appreciated! xo, brooke <3

oh also shoutout to those who beta read this! 🫶🏻🐠

taglist: @reidmarieprentiss

[chvoswxtch]

please don't be mad

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader

summary: matt’s run in with his ex has you questioning everything about your relationship, and he’s determined to prove himself to you.

warnings: cursing, lots of angst, fluffy ending, matty being a typical dumbass, explicit sexual content (minors dni)

word count: 7.2k

a/n: psa, I am not an elektra anti. I would happily fuck her too. this is once again purely selfish matty content I couldn’t get out of my head. a huge thank you to my darling @yourbucky084 for beta reading, helping edit & providing such helpful feedback.  also a big thank you to @pleasurebuttonwrites for helping me figure out what the fuck is behind matty’s bed for this fic lmao. I appreciate you both so much! as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

[part two]

It felt like I had been staring at the wall in the darkness for hours. My body was aching, begging me to move from my current position lying on my side that I had been stubbornly stuck in for the past forty five minutes, but under absolutely no circumstances would I turn over. I would deal with my body’s stiffness tomorrow. I had tried, and failed, several times to get my brain to just shut off. I silently pleaded for the sweet blanket of unconsciousness to wash over me so that I could get a break from all the noise in my head. Tonight was the worst night to be an insomniac.

“Angel?”

I squeezed my eyes shut when I heard his low voice cut through the silence. Asshole. He knew the effect that his voice had on me, especially at that volume. I tried my hardest to get my aggravated breathing under control to a slow, steady pace. My heart was the one that wouldn’t cooperate. It was still thudding angrily against my chest. I heard a deep sigh cut through the darkness and a rustling of sheets behind me.

“Sweetheart, I know you’re not asleep.”

I felt the bed dip beside me as he turned onto his side to face my back. Despite the coldness of the bedroom, I could feel the heat radiating off his body. Normally, we’d be tangled up together. I always slept best with my head on his chest, leg slung lazily over his hips, completely wrapped up in his arms and warmth. But tonight, I wanted to be as far away from him as possible. 

“Honey, please.”

I grit my teeth and flung the covers off my body, shivering slightly as the awaiting cold nipped at my exposed skin and caused goosebumps to appear everywhere. I gripped onto my pillow and ripped it off the bed, hastily rounding the corner towards the refuge of the living room.

“Goodnight, Matthew.”

Before I had a chance to slide the door open, Matt was on his feet and in front of me in a flash. He gently wrapped his arm around my wrist to halt my movements and firmly grabbed onto my hip to hold me in place.

“Y/N…you’re not sleeping on the couch, come on.”

“Fine. You are.”

I shoved the pillow roughly against Matt’s bare chest, grabbing the handle on the door and sliding it back so hard into the track it nearly made the entire apartment shake. Matt winced at the sound, squinting his eyes and turning his head away from the door. Normally I would have felt bad about the noise considering his sensitive hearing, but tonight I didn’t really give a fuck about his comfort. He sighed deeply as he tossed the pillow onto the bed and took a step towards me.

“Sweetheart, I really don’t want to go to bed angry. Please.”

“Well maybe you should’ve thought of that earlier Matthew, before you hooked up with your ex at a fucking party and tried to lie about it.”

“Y/N that’s...that’s not what happened. I told you, we just kissed…and I explained why.”

“Right, and I’m supposed to just take your word for it? After you’ve told me how many lies tonight Matthew?”

“I didn’t-”

“You blew me and Foggy off because you said you had an ‘important meeting’ with your special ‘client’. And then you come through that door, wearing a disheveled tux, with the collar covered in red lipstick I might add, and I find out you actually went to a gala with her.”

“Because she had a lead about information that could help take down the Yakuza!”

I had been seeing violent shades of red ever since Matt walked through the front door. I was pissed when I saw that he was wearing a tux, which was not what he had left Foggy and I’s company in, but the second I spotted the lipstick on his collar, I was fucking livid. Matt must have sensed the shift in my emotions because he immediately pulled off his glasses and raised his hands up slowly in surrender, quickly spitting out an “I can explain”.

My blood only began to boil at the mention of her name. Elektra. Matt had reluctantly, and very briefly, told me about her one night when we had first started dating. The gaps that he left, Foggy unenthusiastically filled in later on. He very clearly had not been a fan of hers, and I grew to understand why.

The more I learned about her, the more my disdain grew for the way she treated Matt. The way she left him..and what she had tried to do to him..what she had tried to make him do before she disappeared. I couldn’t believe he would actually want to be around her again after everything she had put him through. She had almost ruined his life, and after that night, he said he never wanted to speak about her again. I didn’t press it. I didn’t want to upset him, and honestly I didn’t care if I ever heard her name again. All I wanted to do was make up for her faults, and show Matt how much he deserved to be loved. I promised him that I would always accept him for exactly who he was. I never once tried to change him. Not like her.

I was beyond incandescent when her name so easily rolled off his tongue. I had been seething all night since his earlier confession. I was pissed she’d had the audacity to show up after all these years just to torment him all over again. But mainly, I was outraged at Matt for letting her, and for lying to me about it. When he finally came clean about being Daredevil, he swore he would never lie again, no matter what. While anger coursed through my veins, there were hints of hurt and betrayal that made every rush sting even more.

“And that makes it all okay?”

“No, of course it doesn’t. I just..I need you to understand that’s all it was, okay? A mission. That’s it. The last thing I ever wanted was to see her again, but she had something I needed. Something that could help me actually get rid of them, for good this time. I couldn’t pass that up. They’re too dangerous.”

“Then why did you lie about it? If that’s all it was, why couldn’t you tell me the truth? Why couldn’t you tell Foggy the truth?”

Matt averted his head downwards, placing both of his hands on his hips as he stood there silently. His lips parted slightly, taking in a deep breath as if the words he was searching for would be laced within the oxygen hitting his lungs.

“I don’t know. I just..I didn’t want to start a fight. I’m sorry. Please…don’t be mad.”

That rage that had been brewing inside me ever since he walked through that door was suddenly bubbling like molten lava, and I was about to fucking erupt. I grabbed the closest thing on the nightstand and flung it directly at Matt’s head. I knew it wouldn’t actually hit him, not that I really wanted to, but I couldn’t think straight through all my fury. He dodged the vase just in time as the ceramic shattered in cataclysmic pieces against the wall, shock written evidently all over his features by my uncharacteristic outburst.

“Mad? You think I’m mad? I’m fucking furious, Matthew! There aren’t words strong enough for how I feel right now. You lied. Again. And I’m supposed to, what, just be okay with it? Just be okay with the fact that you’re dressing up and running around New York with your ex to lavish galas because it’s for the greater fucking good?”

“Sweetheart, it was just for information, okay? I swear. Look by the time we found the ledger, they already knew we were there. We snuck a floor down and pretended to be a lost drunk couple so that we didn’t get shot. It was strictly a distraction. If they had found us and figured out what we were actually doing, they would’ve killed us.”

“Well if she’s so fucking impressive, why didn’t she go by herself? She didn’t need you there, she wanted you there. And you willingly went. You could have said no.”

Matt ran a hand through his messy brown hair, clearly annoyed that I wasn’t seeing things his way, and rubbed his palm across the stubble on his right cheek. He dropped his hands to place them on his hips once again and shook his head slowly, pointing his chin in my direction.

“You’re right. I should’ve said no. I should’ve let her go alone, and I should’ve told you the truth from the beginning. I just…I really didn’t want to start a fight.”

“I’m done fighting with you, Matthew.”

I felt completely drained, like all the life had been sucked out of me steadily ever since he walked through that door. Our fight earlier was explosive, definitely the worst one we’ve ever had. One of the only ones we’ve ever had. I thought it had depleted all of my energy, but the way he kept trying to justify his actions kept fueling the fire. I was tired of being lied to. I was tired of him disregarding my feelings about this whole situation, and not even trying to understand why I felt the way I did. I was tired of feeling like I had to fight to keep my place in his life. I don’t even remember why I agreed to stay over at his place tonight. I should’ve just gone home.

“Don’t...don’t say that. Please. Your voice makes it sound like you’re giving up.”

“Maybe I am Matthew. This was a mistake. I’m going home.”

“No…no no no. Don’t say things like that, please. Look don’t…don’t go. Please, Y/N. It’s late and you’re upset and I...I don’t want you out walking the streets alone right now-”

“I don’t really care what you want right now.”

Matt quickly snatched my overnight bag out of my hands as soon as I reached for it and tossed it across the room with annoying accuracy. I futilely shoved at his chest when he grabbed onto my arms and pulled me in close, but it was no use. He was a lot stronger than I was, and on top of that I was exhausted. I didn’t have any fight left in me for tonight, and there was no escaping the cage of his embrace.

“Please let go.”

“I can’t. I can’t, sweetheart. I need you, please. Look I fucked up, okay? I know that. I fucked up and I’m so sorry. I know you’re probably sick of hearing me say that, but I am. Just...please don’t leave. I love you, Y/N. Let me..let me make it up to you. Let me show you how much I love you.”

My eyes widened as the words dripping with suggestion left his mouth. I tilted my head back and stared up at him dumbfounded, a humorless laugh leaving my lips as I managed to find a surge of strength to push as hard as I could at Matt’s chest and finally shove him backwards.

“Are you fucking joking? You have some goddamn balls, Matthew Murdock. Are you seriously asking me for sex right now? You think that’s gonna fix this?”

“I’m not asking, I’m offering. I know you need it.”

“You don’t know anything. What the hell makes you think I want anything to do with you right now? Why would I even want to kiss you, knowing all I’m going to be able to taste is her.”

Matthew Murdock was one cocky son of a bitch, and his audacity never ceased to amaze me. He clenched his jaw slightly as spite flowed from my lips, hands balling up into tight fists at his sides as he let out a controlled deep breath. His features morphed into an expression of distress as he took slow calculated steps closer towards me and inhaled, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. His eyes were a shade darker when they opened and his tongue quickly darted out to swipe across his bottom lip as he squared his shoulders. I knew that look, and it caused a shiver to cascade down my spine. 

“Then why don’t you let me have a taste, hm? I don’t want you to taste anything else on my tongue except yourself. I don’t want to taste anything else but you.”

Matt tilted his head to the side slightly, his blank honey eyes fixated right in my direction, trying to sense anything that would give me away. He waited silently to taste the effect of his words in the air as they began to seep from my core, and feel the rise of heat that flushed across my chest and the tops of my cheeks. He waited for the anger to dissipate into desire. Matt Murdock was not a very patient man, but the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen was when it came to outsmarting his prey. He set the trap, and waited for me to fall into it. He knew I would. It had been too long, and he knew me too damn well. Matt always knew how to melt the icy barrier I hid beneath, rendering me a needy puddle in his capable hands. The twitch of his jaw and fleeting uptick of his lips let me know he had gotten exactly what he was waiting for.

“I can smell you, sweetheart. Your need...your want. It’s palpable. I can feel it in my own veins. I can practically taste you from here. It’s been what…two weeks? Two weeks since I’ve touched you. I haven’t been paying attention to you like I should have been. I haven’t been very good to you lately. I’ve been neglecting you, and I’m so sorry for that. Please...let me make up for it. Use me.”

Use me.

My mouth suddenly felt dry as it clicked in my brain exactly what he meant. Matt knew what he was doing. I was a sucker for his voice, especially when he used his “devil” voice on me, and he never hesitated to use it to his advantage. He knew it would make me crumble. It always did. He knew exactly how to get what he wanted, how to win. He masked every single one of his sinful words behind that velvet voice, and I loved it. Matt took my silence as an invitation to move even closer, his voice becoming dangerously low as he spoke.

“You don’t have to touch me. You can have my fingers, my mouth, whatever you want. I can feel how frustrated you are. I know how badly you need this. So let me help. Take it all out on me. Use me, sweetheart.”

I felt like I was being pulled in a million different directions in my head. A tiny, logical piece of my brain wanted me to smack him. It was yelling at me to not give in. To instead tell him to fuck off, get my things, and just go. The other part of my brain wanted me to just call it a night. Just let go of all the anger, try to get some sleep, and discuss the future of our relationship in the morning when we were both level headed. But both of those thoughts were completely drowned out by the ache beginning to throb uncomfortably between my thighs.

I was just as sexually frustrated as I was...well...regularly frustrated. I couldn’t remember the last time Matt had kissed me, or touched me, or even told me he loved me. He had been so busy lately, I felt like we only saw each other in passing like forgotten ships in the night. My body yearned for him. He knew it better than anyone, sometimes even better than I did. He always knew what I needed. 

My renegade eyes traveled over Matt’s exposed muscular chest as I got lost in my inner turmoil, paying extra attention to how his sweatpants and briefs hung treacherously low on his hips. I had spent so many moments mapping out every inch of his skin and every visible scar with my fingers and tongue. If I focused really hard, I could feel the tautness of his abs on my fingertips from whenever he got close to releasing in my mouth. I could hear the gravel in his voice as he whispered vivid dirty details of his plans for me into my ear. I could taste the tanginess of my own release on his lips as he kissed me after bringing me to climax with his skilled tongue.

I felt a warm rush of arousal pool between my thighs. The soft groan that exuded from Matt’s lips let me know he had noticed it. He always knew when I was wet for him. I could never hide from him. His tongue swiped along his bottom lip as he stared just above me, his fists tightening at his sides so hard his bruised knuckles were stark white. I know he wanted nothing more than to rush forward and take me, fuck it all out, and beg for forgiveness when he finally sent me over the edge...but he stayed still. Matt had always been the dominant one in our relationship, and I liked it that way. I never knew I could find so much freedom in completely giving myself over to someone. I trusted Matt. I loved when he took control. I craved being submissive to him, so much so that it would have been embarrassing if it weren’t so fucking satisfying. I didn’t know if I had it in me to be the one in control, especially not with the headspace I was in. I was desperately grasping at the frayed edges of my anger, but the way he was staring at me with those ravenous wild eyes had me letting go without a second thought.

“I..I don’t..I’m not sure if I..”

Matt reached out to gently take my hand into his, brushing his thumb over the back of my knuckles and giving it a soft squeeze. Somehow he always understood me, even when I couldn’t get the words out. He just knew. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you. I got you, sweetheart.”

Matt slowly sunk down onto his knees in front of me, head tilted back to keep his gaze up towards my face. I felt my breath hitch in my throat as he hooked his index fingers under the seam of my panties, pulling them down my legs carefully as he brushed his fingers tenderly along the back of my knee and the side of my calf. He turned his head slightly to place a chaste kiss to my inner thigh and I felt him smile against my skin when I let out an involuntary whine. He tapped my ankle lightly to signal for me to step out of my panties, balling them up into his hand and shoving them into the pocket of his sweatpants. 

Matt placed several more scorching kisses up the expanse of my legs and over my thighs as he slowly rose up from his knees, towering over me once he stood to his full height. He gestured his head towards the bed and began to walk backwards.

“Come here.”

I watched him in confusion as he took his place on the bed, glancing down at the spot on the floor in front of me where he had just been.

“What…what um...”

“You’re gonna ride my face.”

I nearly choked on my own spit, my eyes widening in shock as I watched Matt move to lay flat on his back on the mattress. Matt Murdock was no stranger to eating me out. Sometimes I think he enjoyed it almost as much as I did. There were times I had to practically pry him away, nearly in tears from overstimulation because he just kept going and going and going. He’d had his face buried between my thighs countless times, but never like that.

“W-What?”

“You’re gonna sit on my face, you’re gonna ride my tongue until you come, and you’re gonna keep going until you feel satisfied. If you wanna go all fucking night, we will. You don’t stop until you get what you need.”

Even though he was offering to let me take control, there was still a dominant edge to his voice that made my knees weak. Matt reached his hand out for me to take, his eyes blankly moving back and forth as he waited to sense my presence come near. I was frozen with apprehension. I wanted it, God did I want it, but I was nervous. I had seen a picture of Elektra once. We looked nothing alike, figure wise. I had a very curvy figure. I had wider hips and thick thighs, and while I knew Matt was very strong, I also knew I would die of embarrassment if I had to explain how I nearly suffocated my boyfriend from trying to ride his face for the first time.

“Don’t.”

“What?”

I blinked a few times as I stared over at Matt, taking a few cautious steps forward until I stood next to the bed. I reached out slowly to grab onto his hand and swallowed thickly when he tugged me closer, pressing a reassuring kiss to each of my knuckles.

“Don’t think so hard. Just come here and let me make you feel better, please.”

I tried to let go of all my trepidation with a deep exhale, capturing my bottom lip between my teeth as I climbed up onto the bed. I let go of Matt’s hand momentarily to pull my oversized sleep shirt over my head so that it wouldn’t get in the way. I swung my leg over Matt’s waist and straddled his chest. He quickly grabbed onto my hips and pulled me up further with impressive speed, causing me to gasp and brace my hands against the wall.

“Jesus, Matt. Slow down.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry. I just...fuck...can you get up here? Please, baby?”

I wasn’t used to Matt sounding so needy. That was usually my role. I was always the one begging for him…begging for more. Hearing how desperately he wanted to taste me sent a tidal wave of lust dripping down my thighs, and Matt growled lowly in his throat at that. His fingertips dug roughly into the soft flesh of my thighs and his hips bucked upwards slightly. I stared down at him in awe, feeling an overwhelming sense of pride and confidence from the way he was reacting. 

“Sweetheart...please...I’m begging you. Let me make you come until you can’t walk. Come on angel...be a good girl for me and come ride my face, yeah? Let me show you how much I want you. Only want you.”

Between his strained begging and the way he moved his head to get closer to where I was soaked, I couldn’t take it anymore. My pussy seemed to have a mind of its own because before I could stop myself, I was settling my knees on either side of Matt’s head and bracing my hands onto the wall to steady myself, preparing to lower myself languidly. Matt however had other plans. In an instant, Matt had a bruising iron grip on my thighs and had roughly pulled my soaking cunt down on his face. One of my hands immediately flew down to grip at his hair as I moaned loudly when I felt his tongue slip inside me. Matthew Murdock was extremely talented with his mouth, which made him an exceptional lawyer, but an even more sensational lover. 

His mouth was so warm as he ravaged me, and I felt myself already having a difficult time staying upright. Matt’s large hand came down hard against my ass and I cried out as it surged me forward, the action causing his nose to bump divinely against my clit as his tongue explored my pussy like it was the first time all over again. It took one more slap for me to get the hint and I slowly started to move my hips against his face. The muffled moan of approval that sounded beneath me only spurred me on to roll my hips back and forth delicately like an easy tide. I gripped tightly onto Matt’s hair and tugged hard which caused a groan to reverberate enticingly against my clit. 

I could feel him moving slightly around on the bed behind me and glanced over my shoulder to see him rolling his hips upwards into the air in time with my own pace. I could see the perfect outline of his impressive cock as it strained against the barrier of his sweatpants. There was already a wet patch forming which drove me even more crazy. He was really fucking enjoying this. It never failed to turn me on even further seeing how much Matt got off to getting me off.

My breaths became more jagged and struggled to be released from my chest the closer I got to the edge. I should’ve felt pathetic about being so close to coming undone so quickly, but it had been weeks. I whined loudly as I began to grind my hips down back and forth on his tongue, welcoming the burn of his facial hair rubbing roughly against my inner thighs. I had gotten so used to his touch that I felt like I was completely starving after two weeks without it. I hadn’t even bothered trying to get myself off because I knew it would be no use. I couldn’t come without Matt, not since the first night I let him touch me and make himself at home between my thighs. Nothing compared to him.

“M-Matty...oh god...please...”

Matt clamped both of his large hands down on my thighs to hold me in place, wrapping his plump lips around my swollen clit to suck on it feverishly. I could feel him moaning against my core and it only brought me closer and closer to where I wanted to be. It was so close...so fucking close. My entire body felt tense with anticipation as I waited impatiently to be tossed over the edge into pure ecstasy. It felt like a rubber band within me was being stretched impossibly thin, and I just needed it to fucking snap already. 

“Maaaatty…please please please..”

I don’t even know what I was asking for, but he knew. He always knew. Matt granted me mercy as he quickened the pace of his tongue, flickering over my clit like a flame trying to withstand the wind. He gently bit down on my sensitive nub, causing me to explode with pure bliss. I rocked my hips against his face messily as I kept my tight grip on his hair. A high pitched whine left my lips when I felt a growl rip through his chest as I finally came into his mouth. I glanced down just in time to see his eyes nearly roll into the back of his head from my taste hitting his tongue, a satisfied primal groan resonating against my core. Matt wouldn’t let me budge until he greedily lapped up every drop of nectar my body had to offer. My thighs shook aggressively as I tried to ride out one of the most powerful orgasms I’d ever had. My body felt entirely too heavy, and the only reason I hadn’t collapsed was because Matt was still holding me up. He detached his lips just for a split second, baring his teeth in menacing snarl.

“Go for another one, sweetheart. I told you…we can stay here all fucking night.”

I glanced down to see the lower half of Matt’s face completely coated in my glimmering wetness. His lips were swollen and red, a sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead, panting as he tried desperately to catch his own breath. His hair was sticking up in odd directions from my hazardous gripping and his eyes were blown open so wide, I could see the devil in them, waiting for me to unlock his chains. I whimpered as I felt his tongue teasing at my folds, trying my hardest to pull away from his eager mouth.

“I..I c-can’t..ah fuck Matty…please…let me down...please...”

Matt grabbed onto my hips and lifted me up gently, helping me onto my back on the spot right beside him. My body was still trembling with aftershocks of pleasure when I felt the warm weight of his body on top of mine. His lips left a burning trail of kisses down the column of my neck, between the valley of my breasts, and along my lower stomach. I whined when I felt his warm breath wavering against my clit.

“Shh...let me take care of you, sweetheart. I’ll do all the work. Just lay back and let me make it better.”

“Matty...please. I just want you, please.”

I hadn’t forgiven him. I was still hurt and angry, and there was so much we needed to talk about. But right now, I just needed him. I needed to feel him. I needed to feel our bodies connected together, like they belonged to one another. I needed him to tell me everything would be okay as he held my hand and made love to me. I needed to know he was still mine. 

I could feel tears pricking at the corners of my eyes as he hovered over me and I grabbed onto his face to pull him down in a searing kiss. I could feel him sigh in content and relief against my mouth, sliding his hand under my back to pull me up closer so that could press our chests together. I could feel his heartbeat thundering against my own in a perfect symphony. As I pushed at the waistband of his sweatpants, he gently grabbed onto my wrist and broke the kiss to lean his forehead against mine.

“Sweetheart, I told you…you don’t have to touch me.”

“I need to, Matty. I need it, please. I need you.”

Matt stilled at my sobbing plea and brought one of his large hands up to brush the scattered tears away with his thumb, cupping my cheek in his hand as he gazed down at me in pure concern.

“Angel, what’s wrong? Talk to me. Was it too much? Do I need to stop?”

“No...no please don’t. I just...I need you, Matty. I need you here.”

“I am here, sweetheart.”

“I need you to stay here. You can’t...you can’t just ignore me for two weeks and then run off with someone else, Matt. You can’t do that to me...especially not with her. So...if this is it, then I want-”

“Hey, no. This is not it. Don’t talk like that. Listen to me...I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry. I’ll never do that again, I swear. You mean everything to me, alright? I’m not going anywhere, sweet girl. I’m right here. And I don’t want you to worry about her. She’s on the first flight out of New York in the morning, okay? She’s not coming back. It’s just you and me, my love. I’m right here. I love you.”

“Then show me.”

I didn’t wait for him as I braced my palms against his broad chest and pushed with all the strength I had left, rising up onto my knees as I pushed him down onto his back. I ignored his faint protests, grabbing at the waistband of his briefs and sweatpants to tug them down in one swift motion as quickly as possible. I pressed my palm hard against his chest to keep him down when he tried to sit up, climbing onto his lap and positioning myself over his impatient cock. The tip was swollen with lust and weeping with need, standing proudly at attention above his stomach, waiting for me. I didn’t take my time to slowly lower myself down like I normally did. No matter how many times Matt had been inside me, ruined me, I always had to adjust to his size. 

We both cried out in unison when I sank down completely, and his hands flew up to seize my hips. Being on top always required the most accommodation, but I loved having him like this. I could feel him everywhere. All I wanted was to be completely filled to the brim and consumed entirely by him. I winced as the sting of my walls being stretched to their limits pierced through my lower half. 

“Fuck, sweetheart. Easy easy…don’t hurt yourself. We can take it slow-fuck!”

I ignored every single one of Matt’s words as I sat up straight and began to swivel my hips in purposeful circles. It burned, God did it burn, but I wanted it. I wanted it all. I didn’t know if I believed Matt’s words. I didn’t know if the love he had for me would ever compare to what he had felt for her, what he might still feel for her. I didn’t know that I believed tonight wasn’t it for us. But all that I wanted was a reminder, that this had been real. That Matt had been real, and he had been mine. I would take the pain willingly if it meant I’d be able to feel him for the next few days. I’d happily be haunted by the ache he left between my thighs to remind myself that this was real.

Every drawn out moan of my name that rang in my ears, every breathless pant, every plea of oh my god and every praise of fuck sweetheart kept me moving even though I felt like my legs were seconds away from giving up. I threw my head back towards the heavens, hoping God would understand my prayers and what I needed through the form of Matt’s name. On my knees above him, I prayed. And I prayed and I prayed and I prayed. 

I didn’t know if the tears falling freely down my cheeks were from being pushed to my limit physically, or mentally, but I cried out when Matt sat up fully to wipe them away from my cheeks, reaching farther inside me than I ever thought possible. I whined when I felt his hand wrap delicately around my throat, his thumb and index finger holding my chin in a firm grasp as he captured my lips. 

“Shh…it’s alright sweetheart. I’m here. I’m right here. Doing so well for me, angel. Always so good to me. Let me take care of you.”

Matt brought my arms up to wrap around his neck, grabbing my hips gently to flip our bodies over and lay me down into the sanctuary of silk covered pillows. He pulled my legs tightly around his waist, locking his own hips in place against mine. One hand came up to intertwine our fingers together, squeezing my hand in reassurance as he placed his other forearm directly beside my head. Pressing our foreheads together, brushing his nose and lips against mine, Matt began to oscillate his hips at a tender speed, allowing me to feel every detailed stroke of him against my tight walls.

“My perfect girl. Can’t you feel how perfect we fit together, Y/N? Can’t you feel how perfect you are for me?”

I couldn’t handle the vulnerability in his featherlight whispers. It tugged so hard on the strings of my heart, I thought they might snap. I tried to whisper his name, respond with something coherent, but all I could manage was a needy whimper. Matt let go of my hand for just a second, slipping his own between our bodies to press down on the bulge in my lower stomach.

“You can feel me here, can’t you sweetheart?”

I grabbed onto the back of his neck urgently, digging my nails into the muscle of his upper back to anchor him in place. I tried to nod, tried to hide my face into the refuge of his neck to escape his inexorable gaze, but he wasn’t having any of that. Matt’s hand was quickly covering my throat again, his hold on my chin a little tighter this time, forcing my eyes to meet his.

“I am not going anywhere. Nothing could ever take me away from you. Not her, not Fisk, no one. Not even God himself could keep me from you.”

His caramel coated eyes were staring so hard down into mine, it knocked the breath out of me. For a second, I felt like Matt could actually see me. His stare only grew in intensity as his thrusts became more precise. 

“Listen to me, sweetheart. You are mine. And I am yours. We belong to no one else, but each other. I’m gonna marry you someday, Y/N. Someday soon. I want nothing more than for you to be my wife, my perfect girl. My angel. There’s no one else I want by my side for the rest of my life. No one else who understands me better than you do. No one else that accepts me like you do. No one else that’s as good to me as you are. I will do whatever it takes to prove that to you. I will put a ring on your finger tomorrow. I will put a baby in you tonight.”

A sharp gasp mixed with a breathless moan echoed from my lips at Matt’s words. I knew Matt wanted to get married someday, and I always hoped it would be to me. We had very briefly had a conversation about kids once. He knew that I wanted them, and said that he did too. Someday. While marriage I knew we could make work, I wasn’t sure about the kids part. I didn’t know if I could handle having a child with him when he still needed the other side of him, and I didn’t know if he would ever know when he wouldn’t need that side of him anymore. It was a tricky conversation I wasn’t ready to try and navigate. I didn’t want to risk losing Matt, and I would never ask him to give up something that was so important to him. But the conviction in his voice, the certainty of his words, made me lightheaded. Matt tilted his head to the side slightly, a sense of recognition softening his gaze as a light smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“That what you want, sweetheart? Hm? That what you need? Taking my last name and growing our baby inside you to remind you every day that I’m yours?”

“Matty…”

“You want all of me, don’t you angel? C’mon, tell me. Tell me you want all of me.”

“I…God, Matty…want all of you, please.”

“I love you, Y/N. You love me, don’t you? C’mon baby, tell me you love me.”

“I love you, Matty. I, oh God, love you so much…”

“Say you’ll marry me. Gonna ask properly, I promise, but I need to hear you say it. Tell me, sweetheart.”

“Yes Matty…yes I’ll marry you.”

I knew Matt was listening intently to my heartbeat with every answer that spilled from me, searching for any falter in rhythm that would tell him I wasn’t telling the truth. That I was just obeying his orders. But I wasn’t lying. I meant every word. I knew that Matt knew that from the mouth splitting grin that took over his entire face.

“That’s my girl. My perfect girl. Now, tell me I can come inside. We can start our family tonight, sweetheart. C’mon, tell me you want it, and you’ll be pregnant before the sun comes up. Let me hear it, angel.”

“Please Matty, please. Please come inside me. I want our family. I want it all. Please Matty, make me yours.”

Matt tightened his grip slightly on my throat, silencing my cries of pleasure with his lips. His pace remained gentle and loving, but his thrusts were powerful and meticulous, relentlessly hitting that spot inside me that had me swimming in constellations that appeared behind my eyelids every single time. It didn’t take much longer for me to plunge from the peak of exhilaration, free falling into uninhibited gratification below that was completely and irrevocably Matt.

I felt tingles sparking throughout my extremities as my body spasmed in rolling blackouts of delectation, causing my walls to clench unforgivably around Matt’s cock. I could feel the rhythm of his hips stuttering into short, staccato bursts as he finally reached his own crescendo. The pure satisfaction entangled in the legato moans of his climax wrapped around me like a warm blanket, lulling me into a state of ease. For the first time all night, joy buzzed in my bloodstream, and I was able to silence the roaring of my insecurity.

Matt was here. Matt loved me. Matt was mine.

I hugged him as close and tightly to my chest as I could, refusing to unlock my legs from around his waist when I felt him start to pull back.

“Don’t, please. Just stay. Just wanna stay like this.”

Matt pressed a soft kiss to my forehead and allowed his lips to linger there for a moment before marking my nose, cheeks, and lips in his adoration. He nuzzled his head into my neck and I felt him inhale my scent deeply before sighing in content.

“Alright, sweetheart. We can stay like this.”

I basked in the comfortable silence for a moment, allowing my brain to process every single one of Matt’s words. I felt a childlike sense of giddiness, like when you were a kid and you knew you were getting the exact gift you wanted for Christmas. You had peeked, and spoiled it for yourself, but still felt unfiltered excitement anyway. The gift itself didn’t matter as much as the feeling of knowing that it was what you wanted and it was yours. 

Matt Murdock was my gift. The one thing I always wanted, the only thing that mattered, that was all mine.

I threaded my fingers lightly through his hair, occasionally massaging at his scalp and smiling at the hums of gratitude that vibrated against my neck. 

“Matty?”

“Hm?”

“You know I’m still on birth control, right?”

“I know, sweetheart. It doesn’t hurt to start practicing though, does it?”

I could feel his smile against my skin. If I closed my eyes, I could see it. I knew exactly which one it was. I couldn’t help but giggle at his response, tightening my arms around his back.

“Well, if that’s the case, then we’ve been practicing for over a year Matty. Sometimes several times a day.”

Matt pulled his head back just enough so that he could face me, bumping his nose against my own as a devilish grin stretched across his soft lips.

“I like to be prepared.”

[petertingle-yipyip]

THREE EMPTY WORDS - MATT MURDOCK

Pairing: Matt x Wife!Reader

Word Count: 3,230

Summary (Request): a request like fingers crossed where matty and reader are married and when elektra enters wounded she's sleeping and doesn't realise the situation, so half groggy wifey goes and asks him to sleep. he obviously says no, so she walks away upset.. then stick asks him if he would leave the reader for elektra and he says yes. reader obviously hears this (somehow he doesn't know) but what he does hear is her heart snap in two because of how heartbroken. then he ends up apologising and idk how but its a happy ending

You pushed your laptop away and rubbed your eyes, closing them tightly when you realized just how dry they were. They burned slightly and you knew it was time for bed. You shut your device after saving your lesson plans and tucked it into your bag on the floor. You wandered through the living room for one final check that your boyfriend hadn’t collapsed on the couch before you headed to bed.

It was a few hours later when the commotion started. The loud crashing from your living room woke you with a start, jumping hard enough to nearly fall off the bed. You sat up with eyes squinting through the bright living room lights to see the familiar silhouette of an unmasked Matt, accompanied by an older figure and a limp body.

You fought your way out of the blankets and shuffled across the room to get to the door. The lights were still too bright so you covered your eyes with one hand while holding the door with the other.

“Matty? Is that you?” You asked, the sleep in your voice obviously.

“Yeah.” He answered in a rush. “It’s me, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay. Go back to bed, alright? I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, okay.” You nodded, a heavy yawn sneaking through. “Are you coming?”

“Not right now. I need a few minutes but I’ll be there. Just.. Please.”

“Okay.” You shrugged and shuffled back, eyes closed as you dropped back into bed.

After a short amount of tossing and turning, you woke to a loud yank of the dresser drawer. You sat up and pushed yourself against the headboard, eyes still closed as your hands dropped into your lap. Matt was muttering to himself as he fought out of his suit, the heavy protective material getting slammed against the floor.

“What time is it?” You mumbled, blinking quickly to try and acclimate to the light. “What’s wrong, Matty?”

“It’s nothing, Y/N.” He answered, relatively sharply but maybe he was just tired. “I didn’t mean to wake you again.”

“It’s fine… Should I be worried?”

He finally turned to face you and you noticed his hands were covered in dried blood and they were trembling. You swung your legs around and got up, intending to go to his side but he was quick to meet you and turn you around so your back was towards the living room.

“Matt.” You said quizzically, though there was a firmness that demanded an answer. “What’s going on?”

“It’s a mess out there right now, okay?” He sighed. His eyes closed and he dropped his forehead against yours while his hands moved up and down your arms gently. “I’m gonna handle it and then I’ll be right there in bed with you.”

“You promise?”

He gave a small chuckle before planting a sweet kiss on your forehead.

“I promise.”

“Go on then.” You plopped yourself on the bed again. “Go be a hero… I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You laid on your side as you watched him go back into the living room. He hesitated at the doors and your brows furrowed, though you said nothing. You saw his shoulders drop and heard the faint sigh before he turned away and closed the doors the majority of the way.

You quickly realized you weren’t going to be able to fall back asleep anytime soon so you crawled to the edge of the bed. You leaned forward in an effort to peek through the small opening and saw a woman on the couch, eyes closed with Matt at her side. Out of curiosity, you pushed the blanket to the floor and slid down on top of it. When there was no reaction from Matt, you continued forward until you were at the doors.

Elektra.

How long had she been back? Was she okay?

“Matty.” The old man said. You angled yourself to see him and you could only assume it was the old man who had trained Matt when he was younger. “You know you can’t have both.”

“What?” Matt asked quickly, and you had a similar but quieter reaction. “What are you talking about?”

“Look at yourself, kid. You got your girl in the room, sleeping alone, because you’re here with her.”

“She could die, Stick. I just want to make sure she’s alright.”

“There’s nothing you can do for Ellie right now.” Stick said simply. “As much as I disagree with the soft life you built here…” He sighed and turned towards the bedroom. You froze, as if you’d been caught, but then you remembered he was also blind. But that didn’t mean he didn’t know you were there. “Would you leave it all?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“What’s her name? Y/N?”

“Don’t talk about her.” Matt said protectively. “What are you getting at?”

“Let’s say, hypothetically, it’s between Ellie here and that little firecracker in the bedroom… Who do you pick?”

“I’m not gonna play your game.”

“That’s an answer on its own.” He shrugged.

“Shut up, Stick.”

“All I’m saying is that-“

“I don’t care.” Matt cut in sharply. “I don’t care what you have to say about my life or the way I’m living it, alright? She knows what I do is dangerous and she’s fine with it. She knows that I love her and I do this to make sure she’s safe. She gets it, all of it.”

“Does she?” Stick countered calmly. “Does she know about Ellie?”

Matt was quiet.

“She doesn’t.” The old man said quietly. “And you really think she’ll stay once she knows?”

“It doesn’t matter… She doesn’t need to know.”

“Intersting..”

“What are you looking for, Stick? You want some confession about how I feel?”

“I want you to stop lying to yourself, Kid. And stop lying to that girl.” He pointed towards you in the bedroom.

“I’m not lying.” Matt scoffed.

“Okay… So who’s it gonna be?”

“Why do you care so much?”

“Ellie or Y/N?”

“That’s my wife, Stick.”

“Just answer the question!”

“Elektra!” Matt yelled suddenly and you felt your stomach twist.

Without much thought you pushed the doors open roughly, earning a quick head turn from Matt and a smirk crossed Stick’s features that made you feel sick. Why he intended on pushing Matt to give an answer, you had no idea. But he did, and Matt gave the exact opposite answer you expected.

“Y/N? You okay?” Matt asked carefully, a small tilt to his head as he listened in to whatever tell your body was giving him. “Your heart’s racing.”

“Yeah..” You said tightly. “Just need the bathroom.”

You hurried into the room and locked the door behind yourself. You leaned against the sink, taking a minute to stare at the tears welling up in your eyes. You felt sick, a twisted knot growing in your stomach. It felt as if it was swelling, crushing your lungs and cramming itself into your throat to the point where it was hard to breathe. Your knees fell weak and you let yourself drop the ground, head in hands as the tears began to fall. You kept quiet to try and hear what Matt said next.

“That wasn’t fair.” Matt said angrily. “You tricked me.”

“Did I?” Stick answered sarcastically. “Did I trick you?”

“Yes, you did.”

“The only person that tricked you is you. Come on, Matty. No one forced you to say Ellie’s name.”

“And no one asked you to come here and start problems. You knew she was listening and you wanted to see if you could play some sick game with her. You don’t even know her!”

“I know that you don’t need her.”

“Get out.”

“All of this over some girl. Wake up, kid!”

“Stop talking about my wife that she’s just some girl.”

“She won’t stick around after that.”

“Get out of my apartment or I will throw your ass out.”

With quiet screams, knees pulled to your chest and arms wrapped around them, you sobbed on the bathroom floor.

Your eyes were closed tightly and your shoulders shook as your lungs fought to fill with air. You turned your head to let the small whine of a sound get muffled by your shoulder while your nose ran and leaked onto your shirt. Your hands gripped your legs tightly and our nails dug into the tender flesh, serving as a physical source of your emotional pain.

You had always known Matt had a soft spot for his old college girlfriend. She was the first person that made Matt feel alive, that didn’t treat him as a porcelain doll. She challenged him and adored him for all he was. Like he said, she understood all of it. But to hear him confess that he’d still choose her over you, after everything you’ve helped him through, it felt like a deep cut to your soul.

“Sweetheart?” Matt asked from the other side of the door as he knocked lightly. “You alright in there?”

You shook your head quickly, despite the fact that he wouldn’t know, but had no voice to offer a response. You knew if you tried to say anything, you’d fall into another fit of sobs.

“Y/N, I can’t tell if you answered… Please talk to me, or open the door.”

“Go away.” You said quietly, a voice hardly above a whisper.

“No.” He said before a small shuffle and his voice came from a lower angle for his next sentence. “Not until you tell me.”

You rolled your eyes and slammed your fist against the door. You assumed it would’ve hit just about where he was so maybe he would get the hint that you didn’t want him around.

He didn’t.

“You heard what Stick said, didn’t you?” He asked gently.

“The important part is I heard what you said, Matt.” You managed, your voice weak rather than sharp.

“What I… Y/N, sweetie, you know I didn’t mean it.”

“I’m crying my eyes out because I know what you meant.” You offered sarcastically. “Just leave me alone.”

“I’m not gonna let you stay in the bathroom all night. Unless you plan to sleep in the bathtub, you have to come out at some point, my love.”

“Why didn’t you tell me she was in town?”

“I didn’t think it would matter… It wasn’t supposed to come to this. It was supposed to be something quick, one-and-done. I never planned on her being here this long.”

“Is that supposed to make it okay?” You sniffled. “Things didn’t go to plan so you continue to hide it? You lied to me, Matt. So many times… I thought you were just out doing Daredevil things but you were going on little vigilante dates with her.”

“Dates? No, no, Y/N, nothing was ever a date.”

“That night you left in your work suit and came back in a tux?” You challenged.

“That..” He said slowly as he searched for a way to explain it. Now you were starting to grow angry, hearing him try to justify what he was doing rather than admit he was wrong. “Wasn’t a date. It was just us-”

“It was you two, getting dressed up and going out.”

“We needed to get into the gala to take a leger. That’s it.”

“If that was it, it should’ve been done. But it wasn’t, was it?”

“No…”

“No, you continued to see her and continued to lie to me and all of your friends... Does she even know that we're married?”

“Yes.” He answered quickly. “Yes, of course she knows. I’d never try to keep you a secret.”

“No, but you’ll keep secrets from me.”

“I thought it would be quick.”

You rolled your eyes and shoved yourself to your feet. You yanked the door open and pushed forward, nearly tripping over Matt, who was still sitting on the floor. You let out a ragged breath as a poor attempt to control your boiling anger but with every hasty step across your living room, every time your peripherals caught sight of Matt’s unconscious ex-lover on your couch, you felt that anger seer through every nerve in your body.

Every inch of your skin tingled and your muscles burned. You didn’t know what to do with yourself. You wanted to scream, to hit something, to throw something. You wanted to cry, to run, and just be alone. But where would you go? It was late. Your friends were likely asleep. You had no escape at the moment, so instead of letting it cook you from the inside out, you directed your anger at the only person you thought would deserve it.

Well, maybe not deserve it, but the only person who could take it.

“I never wanted to lie to you or- or keep anything from you.” Matt tried and all you could respond with was a scoff. You knew the second you let your brain send words to your tongue, they’d flow from your mouth. They’d grow and burn and creep like lava, thick and heavy and painful. So you pressed your lips together and shook your head, letting out sharp exhales through your nose as your angry pacing continued.

“Please, Y/N, you have to believe me.” He nearly begged.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” You asked through gritted teeth, digging nails into your palms so roughly it sent a sting through your hand. “Or was she always going to be your little secret?”

“I never meant to -”

“That doesn't make it any better!” You shouted, throwing your arm widely to gesture to the woman on your now bloodied couch. “You can’t justify this! There’s no scenario or circumstances that make this okay! Do you get that?”

“I know but-”

“Then there is no but!” You continued to scream.

You didn’t care if the neighbors heard. You didn’t care if the whole city heard you. You didn't care if your volume woke Elektra or even woke the dead. You were absolutely livid now that the sadness had worn off. You were initially hurt that he had admitted to preferring Elektra to you, but at the end of the night, Matt came home to you. Matt spent his nights with you. He trusted all of his secrets to you. Elektra may have had his heart in the beginning but he was yours now. You wouldn’t let that go, nor would you ever let her think otherwise.

“I have to find out by accident that my husband is running around town, ditching work, for his ex from college. How do you think that makes me feel? How does that make our marriage look?” You continued, unleashing any thought your brain conjured.

But at that moment, with the notorious neon shining through the living room windows, you refused to let anything slide. You refused to let Matt think he could keep such a secret, especially one with such heavy implications, from you when he had told you - quite literally - everything else. 

“How can I make this up to you?” He asked gently, walking to your side and gently reaching for your balled-up hands.

You yanked them from his grip and shoved him instead. He nodded slightly and let you push him again. And again. And again. You reached to do it again but that time, he caught your wrists. You pulled away slightly but he refused to let you go, offering a pointed expression instead.

“Let me go, Matt.” You said firmly.

“No.” He said with a slight shake of his head. “Not until you answer me.”

“You didn’t owe me this explanation. Why would I owe you an answer?” You shot back sharply.

“Because I love you… Because you mean everything to me and I’m not going to lose you because of something stupid that I said.”

“Those three empty words will only make this worse. Say them again and I will throw all of your shit out of that window.”

“Empty?” His brows raised and he let your hands go. He scoffed slightly with a nod as he took a few steps away. “Empty words, huh?”

“What would you call them?” You countered, though seeing the hurt expression seemed to sap the anger from your bones.

You started to feel bad… But didn’t you want to hurt him? Make him feel the way you had, just moments before?

“I won’t keep saying those ‘three empty words’ but I am gonna say something else.” Matt said carefully, as if he had decided to choose his words more intently. “Will you hear me out now?”

“If something doesn’t change, we’ll just keep sinking further.” You warned hesitantly, more scared that you had gone too far than that Matt would cross a line. Granted, he had crossed one already but you had gotten over him hiding Daredevil from you so you figured you’d get over the whole Elektra issue with some time. But maybe you had screwed yourself out of that chance.

“I’m running out of things to say to you to get you to believe me.” He confessed, dropping into one of the armchairs out of defeat. “Just tell me this isn’t broken.”

“You tell me.” You shrugged.

“I’m trying.” He laughed, though there was no humor in the sound. It was a sound of stress, desperation even.

“Are you?” You challenged mindlessly, not even realizing you had said it until you watched Matt’s expression change.

“You, Y/N, are the most important person in my life. I could lose… I could lose everything, but as long as I have you… I can do anything as long as you’re with me.”

“Then why is she here?” You insisted, pointing at her with every word.

“Where else were we supposed to take her?” He asked in quiet resignation. “I couldn’t just leave her to die in that place.”

“Fine.” You gave up, rubbing your hands down your face as the sleep pushed your anger away and took its place across your body, making it grow three times as heavy. “Okay.”

“Don’t do that.” Matt shook his head. “Don’t just conceed.”

“I don’t wanna fight anymore.” You admitted through a yawn. “We’re tired.” You reasoned. “We can’t take it anymore… Let’s just get some sleep. And deal with this tomorrow, probably after we both get off work.”

“Y/N.”

“Matthew.”

“Look, before you go to bed, can I say one more thing?” He jumped to his feet and came to stand in front of you, gently taking your hands in his.

“Yeah, just make it quick.” You shrugged.

He placed your hands over the center of his chest, allowing you to feel his pulse thump steadily under your fingers. His hands stayed over yours and you had to bite down the smile as you looked up at him. You felt the subtle movement of his fingers, ensuring that the wedding ring was still on your finger. His head was tilted towards you and he wore the smallest of smiles when he found it, which would seem normal at any other time.

“You mean everything to me, my love… I never meant to hurt you and I’ll do whatever I can to prove that to you. I’d hate to lose you over something like this.”

[e-dubbc11]

Ik the summer sleepover is long gone 🥲 But i got hit with Matt Murdock feels and I saw the angst prompt list. Feel free to ignore this!!!!!

So this is for my fave catholic hoe 🫠

"You have to let go." - Y/N's already dead and he keeps hallucinating that she's still there

or

"I give up. You won." - Y/N breaks up with Matt because he always keeps her at arms length but it reaches breaking point when Elektra comes back

Chose wisely 😭💖

I could never ignore anything you send me, my dear friend ♥️ I hope you like what I did. I went with the first one BUT your second prompt reminded me of a Matt fic I wrote awhile back called Unsung Hero, so if you’re feeling ambitious, I’ll leave it linked HERE.

Thank you for always sending me things that pop into your brain, I love them ♥️

Letting Go

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F! Reader

Warnings: Death, dealing with grief

Word Count: 1.4K-ish

Summary: You’ve been gone for awhile yet Matt still feels you everywhere he goes, he swears you’re there with him but you’re not and in order to start processing his grief, he has to say goodbye

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

It hit him every time he walked into the apartment. It was here where he felt an overwhelming sense of your presence…only you weren’t there, you had been dead for 8 months now.

Reminders of you were scattered all over the apartment like stray pairs of earrings on the nightstand, a bottle of your favorite perfume, or the blanket you used to when you were quietly reading on the couch.

Not having his sight, Matt was never exactly sure what you looked like. He only had the pictures in his mind. Based on the description you had given him, he knew your eye color, your hair color, and the tone of your skin but he remembered the softness in your voice, the curves and hollows of your body, and the sound of your heartbeat as you slept soundly next to him.

Matt could never see your smile but he knew when you were smiling. He felt it tug on his heart as it stretched across your face when he did something to make you laugh or when he called you “sweetheart” but it also crushed him to taste the salt in the air if you had been crying.

He loved the smell of fresh flowers you would bring home every Friday for your date night at home but you always bought ones that didn’t have a strong scent because you didn’t want it to be too overwhelming for him. He loved how considerate you were, worrying about overloading his senses, like if the music was too loud or if cleaning products were too strongly scented.

Matt’s only wish was that he could have kept you safe, he wished he could have protected you, and more than anything he wished he wasn’t the first one to hear your heart stop beating.

Everywhere he went, he felt you with him, and he swore you were there. When Matt stopped for his morning coffee or Thai food, he had to stop himself from ordering your usual. He just couldn’t believe you were gone. You were dead and never coming back.

The guilt ate at him every day. Matt blamed himself and his nights as the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen suffered because of it. “What’s the point in doing this if I couldn’t save the one person I loved the most?” He had asked himself after a particularly bad night.

Talking to Father Lantom helped but not as much as he hoped it would. Matt wanted answers that Father Lantom didn’t have. He would just tell him that “God had his reasons.” And Matt just thought he was being punished in every way possible. It was the typical Catholic guilt.

“I know you don’t wanna hear it but you know exactly what I would do, Red. I’d make sure they’d never get back up again.” Frank had said.

By asking Frank for advice, you knew Matt’s desperation was apparent as he had seriously contemplated taking their life. He knew it wouldn’t bring you back but maybe it would make him feel better knowing he avenged your death.

Maybe the hallucinations would stop, maybe he would stop hearing your voice in his head, and just maybe it would stop him from reaching for you as he was trying to fall asleep at night. The scum of Hell’s Kitchen felt his wrath every night and with every punch he landed, with every drop of blood that was spilled, he had hoped he would start to feel better but he didn’t.

And what about the tortured and unspeakable dreams where he would have to hear you cry out in pain over and over again. The heartbreak Matt felt left him miserable enough to be vulnerable whether he was awake or asleep.

At least when he was awake, he could throw himself into his work, talk to Foggy and Karen, and you would be far away from his mind. It was the alone time that left him confused, angry, and ashamed. Those feelings infiltrated his body where his heart was scorched and irregular with spasms.

“I still feel her here, Foggy! I can still smell her perfume, feel her smile against my lips, and hear her laugh. I swear she’s still here!” Said Matt, emphatically.

“But she’s not Matt, she’s gone.” Foggy had said.

You knew all of this was true because you were stuck in between worlds, you could see him. And like an angel on his shoulder you were there with him, protecting him as he was protecting his city.

As he sat perched on the rooftops of Hell’s Kitchen, you would reach for him, gently brushing his shoulder, and you were positive that he could tell you were there by the way his head would tilt to the side. You knew you couldn’t stay with him forever, but long enough to be able to tell him goodbye and that you were alright.

With his cheeks flushed with rage and his mouth twisted in anger, Matt left the office and headed for home even though that’s where he felt your presence the most.

He decided not to go out that night but instead he set aside the random belongings that you had left behind, held them in between his fingers, and gently inhaled the scent of your perfume one last time.

“You’re here with me now, aren’t you angel. I know you are; I’m not crazy like Foggy thinks I am.” Said Matt.

You’d give anything to be able to touch him again, to feel his days-old stubble against your cheek, or run your fingers through his soft brown hair.

You weren’t sure what you were feeling but knew you didn’t have much time so you moved in close to look at him one more time.

Matt was so handsome. You were going to miss his hazel colored eyes with the little flecks of gold like autumn leaves, the dimple on his cheek when he smiled, his soft full lips against yours, and the low gravelly tone of his voice. It always sounded so calm and soothing to you except on the night you died.

His screams could probably be heard for blocks in every direction but he was the last thing you saw before your world went dark and you were suddenly looking down at your body while Matt tried and then the paramedics tried to revive you.

After your funeral, Matt stayed after everyone else had left and apologized profusely for not being able to save you. Matt had to let you go but he told himself that burden of guilt rested on his shoulders. Although, you knew it wasn’t his fault.

You knew he couldn’t hear you but you replied anyway.

“I’m here, Matty, but I have a feeling not for much longer.” You said, trying to touch his hand but it just passed straight through and maybe you willed him to hear you as you spoke again. “You have to let go.”

You sensed he was ready to say goodbye which pained you more than that mugger’s lethal stab wound ever could.

“I don’t want to but I have to let you go, sweetheart.” Matt said as his eyes shined with unshed tears. “I’ll always love you, y/n.”

If you were capable of crying, you would have.

“I’ll always love you too, Matt.” You said with a warm smile and “touching” his face.

He closed his eyes and let out a long exhale just as you swept your hand across his cheek, almost as if he could feel your touches.

A slight smirk stretched across his lips as he said, “You’re trying to tell me you’re ok, aren’t you.”

Your hand ghosted against his other cheek and he smiled again.

“I’m ok, Matty. It’s alright, you can let go now.” You said.

The light at your back was calling to you. It was time to go. Although you didn’t know where you were being called to, you wished with all your heart that Matt would be alright and deep down, you knew he would be.

As you turned to walk away, you gazed at Matt one last time, committing to memory what he was wearing, the look on his face, and any other small things you never wanted to forget about him.

You loved the way he adjusts his glasses, rolls the sleeves of his dress shirt up, the way he puts his suit on in the morning, or anytime he kissed you and told you he loved you.

You wondered if he had little things about you he committed to his memory, and if he did, what were they? It made you sad that you’ll never know what they could be but you hoped that Matt Murdock would never ever forget you.

Tag List: @munsonownsmyass @gijos @chezagnes @elgrandeavocados @freshabogados @matt-erialgirl

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @k-marzolf @fluffyprettykitty @hellskitchens-whore

Thank you for reading, I appreciate it! I’ve only tagged a handful of people. If you liked it, you can tell me, I don’t bite. I know I haven’t written for Matt in awhile, no pressure.

[peterman-spideyparker]

my tears ricochet (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader) 1/5

Author’s Note: Hi! This is technically a combination of two ideas--one that I've had for a bit written in my idea notebook, and another I got about a week ago (mildly induced by me watching Gossip Girl for the first time despite knowing all of the major plot points). I don't usually do angst, but boy is it here in this series. Enjoy, and I apologize in advance if I make anyone sad.

Summary: You and Matt Murdock come from different worlds: Matt, the son of a prize boxer from Hell’s Kitchen, you the daughter of a clothing designer and doctor on Park Ave. Meeting in law school was just chance, just was much as you falling for your friend. But fate had different paths for the two of you that pulled you apart, and you felt pain with each tear. Now, just over ten years later, you two meet again by chance, and everything and nothing has changed.

Warnings: Angst, unresolved feelings, lingering love and fondness, canon-typical arguments, language, mentions of death (reader is a widow)

Other Characters: Elektra Natchios

Word Count: 1,807

To say that Matt was annoyed with Elektra was an understatement. Pulling him away from a date was one thing, but pulling him away from a date to go to a ritzy gala? He was pissed. Maybe he wouldn’t mind it if he liked that kind of stuff, but he absolutely hates large crowds, people pretending to be things they’re not to look better than others. It’s just a place for the upper crust to brag. One of these things was the reason that he met Elektra in the first place; while their relationship had its moments in college, that is a moment he repeatedly visits in his mind with regret. There was absolutely no reason for Foggy and him to be there at that event—they were just two stupid college kids crashing a party, and it changed the course of his life. 

Even though Elektra made sure to get him a soft tux, it still felt like it was suffocating him. It was too much, and it was only adding to his discomfort and annoyance. He knows there’s a mission to focus on, but he can’t keep his mind on track. Matt half-listens to the plan Elektra is talking at him about as they stand with champagne flutes in hand, and just as she slips away into the crowd, he hones in on something that has to be a mistake. He puts down his untouched drink on a tray, slowly tapping over toward what has to be an anger-endured hallucination. But as he gets closer had he picks up a familiar scent, he knows he’s not imagining anything. Oh God, he’d never forget that smell. How could he the it’s attached to every memory he has of you?

“Angel,” he breathes. 

He can tell that it catches you off guard by how your posture changes, how your heart skips, and how your breathing increases. You turn slowly and Matt can sense how your eyes widen softly in surprise and something more. Matt listens to your heart flutter like a hummingbird’s as you try to keep calm and dull your buzzing senses.

“Matty,” you breathes, color rushing to your cheeks. His name sounds like honey dripping from your lips. He’s missed that sound. He’s missed you. So, so much. You clear your throat to regain your composure. “What a surprise. It’s lovely to see you here.”

“(Y/N/N),” he murmurs. Matt is simply shocked by meeting you here after ten years—he doesn’t believe his senses that it’s actually you. But it is. 

“Please,” you whisper, mildly embarrassed and suddenly very conscious of yourself as you dip your head and smooth your gown. “No one has called me that in years. (Y/N) is fine.” You sound as if you’re going to cry from nerves—definitely not how you had been just a minute earlier speaking with someone in the crowd. It might slip past someone else, but not Matt. He knows you, no matter how long you’ve been apart.

Matt’s face shifts from surprise to something he can tell you can’t quite put your finger on. “You . . . How have you been? I mean, I’d assume well judging by the scale of tonight and your role in it all.”

“‘Well’ isn’t the word I’d use to describe it.”

His brows furrow. “C’mon, (Y/N/N). Everyone that’s here is because of you and the work you’ve done. This . . . This is more than you could’ve ever dreamed of when we were at Columbia. You’re doing more than Foggy and I could hope to achieve in our entire career.”

“‘Well’ isn’t happy.”

“You’re not happy?”

You give him a sad smile. “I fit into the mold of the perfect Upper East Side darling: went to private schools, society debut, got my degree, worked to established a successful career, got married. Unlike my fellow wives of the Upper East Side, though, my marriage ended in death instead of divorce. Besides, this isn’t anywhere near the work I hoped I’d be doing. ‘Well’ is just a mask I have the burden of putting on everyday.”

Matt’s eyebrows pull down, his heart sinking to his stomach. “You’re not happy,” he breathes softly, pain and sadness painted all over his face.

“I’m not,” you admit, holding back tears to save face. “I haven’t been in years. We talked about it at Columbia—this life wasn’t what I wanted. I was naive to think I could have anything different. But at some point . . . My happiness stopped mattering. It wasn’t important. I just needed to become the woman I was expected to be, and I did.”

“Angel.” He moistens his lips. “Your happiness does matter. When you’re happy . . . (Y/N/N), it lights up the people around you. It’s infectious, it’s like sunshine, it’s . . . It’s why I fell in love with you in law school.”

That sentence is a knife to the heart, and the slight shift in your stance tells Matt that he knows what he just did was not the best move.

“It’s a shame it wasn’t enough to keep us together, then.”

Your words kill him, but no matter how they hurt, he knows they’re true. “(Y/N/N)—.”

“Do you know when I first fell in love with you, Matt?” He just looks at you as he holds on to his cane. Nervous. Fragile, even. “Two weeks in, fall semester, first year of Columbia. We were studying in the library, and it was late. You could tell I was losing steam and giving up, and you took my mind off things and cheered me up by balancing a ruler on that huge, beautiful nose of yours like a goddamn otter. The way you smiled when I laughed . . . That man who had a passion for the law, wanted to help those that needed it most, fiercely loyal, he’s who I fell in love with. He’s who I thought would stand beside me through anything. He just never felt the same, no matter much I wished he did.” That salt Matt tastes in the air tells him that you desperately want to cry right there in the middle of the party no matter who is around, but you catch the eye of someone else in the room—a silent savior in the conversation. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go mingle with guests. It was lovely to see you tonight, Matthew.”

“(Y/N/N), wait, please—.”

“I’m sorry, I have to go.”

Matt’s frozen as he listens to you walk away, interacting with the people at the party as if your conversation never happened. He feels a hand rest on his shoulder before it slowly runs down his arm and hooks in the crook of his elbow. 

“We need to go,” Elektra whispers. “Now.”

Gently tugging him along, Matt feels like he’s having an out of body experience. He doesn’t want to leave, not with you here, not when every fiber in his being is telling him to stay and catch up, talk, try and fix what was lost—what he broke—during your last year at Columbia. Unfortunately, his shock and awe at seeing you again is perfect for Elektra to use to drag him out of the building and into the car waiting for them, giving the driver a new address. 

“Well, I was only able to recover part of the files, thanks to someone getting distracted. But, I read some notes on a desk calendar, and the portion of the files that we really need are—.”

“Did you know this was (Y/N)’s company’s party? Did—.” His blood runs cold at the thought that crosses his mind. “Does she know what she’s involved in?”

“She’s not involved at all. One of the charities that her company supports is involved—someone higher than her has their signature all over the paperwork. She is in the dark.”

“Then we need to protect her. We—.”

“The best way to protect her is to take down the Hand. She’s fine, Matthew.”

“No, she’s not. (Y/N/N) . . . Tonight, she was like a ghost of the woman I knew in law school,” Matt tells Elektra. 

“She’s fine.”

“She’s not.”

“She made choices and is living with them. She’s fine.”

He feels shell shocked. Everything is telling him that that couldn’t have been you, even though all signs point to yes. “Those weren’t her choices. I could’ve been there for her—I should’ve been there for her to tell her that what she wanted was important and mattered more than what her parents thought. I . . .” He hangs his head in shame. “I let myself get distracted by something that didn’t matter.”

“Matthew—.”

“Her life could’ve been so different if I stayed with her. My life could’ve been different.”

“It would have been a life you hate. When you have someone like that . . . it doesn’t matter what you do. Their status will take precedence. Any life different than that that tries to mesh with it . . . It would go up in flames, no matter how hard one tries.”

“I could’ve made her happy, Elektra. I could have at least made sure that she was okay all these years, something. But I abandoned her. And I never told her why.”

“It’s not like she didn’t land on her feet. Besides, it never would have worked between you two.”

There’s something different in her voice that Matt can’t quite put his finger on, but it fills him with rage.

“You don’t know her like I do—did. We would have made it work, we could have done it. Status be damned, she—.”

“Your big heart is blinding you more than you already are. You don’t get it. It’s not just her social standing. You’re too different personality wise. Do you really think she could handle what you do in your spare time? Don’t you think that would shatter her, tear you two apart?”

“She’s part of the reason I started doing this!” Matt snaps. “She . . . Having any kind of relationship doing what I do is difficult. It wouldn’t matter if she was completely in the dark or out with me every night. (Y/N) would stay. It would work with us. I know it. She wouldn’t give up on me.”

He senses Elektra’s 180 shift in her demeanor. “Fine. You can have your movie moment with her, but you finish this with me first.“ She shifts in her seat. “I’m telling you it won’t last. You say I don’t know her, but I do, Matthew. And she will leave you broken because she never will be able to accept all of you.”

“You know, maybe she wouldn't. Maybe it wouldn’t last. But I wouldn’t forgive myself if I never tried to repair that bridge.”

“Your heart will always be your Kryptonite, Matthew. Mark my words.”

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[fandomnerd9602]

Can you please make incorrect quotes for Jennifer Garner Electra x male turned Bullseye reader with Y/N being more like punisher like vigilante and he became that way after Electra's death (y/n ended Bullseye instead of Matt sending him to hospital)

Y/N mows down several bad guys with a mini gun….

Elektra: Y/N?

Y/N: Elektra? Y-you’re here?!

The two embrace…

Y/N: it’s been so long

Elektra: terrible without you

The two touch foreheads and then hit goons with their knives and sai…

[tremendouscreationperson]

Logan x reader idea

This includes Deadpool x Wolverine spoilers

It is also just a vague idea (anyone can run with it) because I am literally due into work in 19 mins ✌🏻✌🏻 gotta get dressed

Wade has just woke up, he yet again sees Logan drinking and asks 'where they are and how they got here'. Logan vaguely points to the door and three people walk through. It's Elektra, Blade and Gambit. There are some not-so-pleasantries and eventually Laura makes herself known.

"We're missing Johnny and Y/N." Gambit drawls. Wade makes a joke and turns back to Logan who looks like he's shat himself.

"Peanut?"

"You said Y/N?" Logan settles his drink onto the first available surface and runs a hand through his hair. "We saw Johnny but not Y/N."

~~

Later on he had slumped down and made a fire. He didn't want to be part of the heroics, he couldn't be. He wasn't worth it. Laura had tried to convince him in her unique way. He could see himself in her, see why he'd fight for her.

Logan took another swig and stared off into the treeline. It was unclear how long he just sat but eventually he noticed movement.

Wolverine stood, ready to protect the others. Why was he ready to protect the others?

Then he saw you.

You were wide eyed.

Your suit was practically undamaged except for a little cut on your thigh. Not a hair out of place. There was dirt on your face and body but you were beautiful.

"Y/N." He involuntarily took a step towards you.

"Logan?" You stayed completely still. Wary. Why were you wary of him?

---

More of this idea here if y'all interested