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#laura is out here opening the door for it!
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Writer!reader and Logan? What's he doing
Laura gave Logan a measured look and he scowled, "What?" "You want this or not?" she said holding up an appointment card between two fingers.
He reached for it and she snatched it back, "If you go, you can't be a dick."
"Listen-"
"I did NOT pretend I needed a ride to get this for you just for you to fuck it up," she said. HER Logan was an asshole. But her Logan would have cut his own throat before he'd have not raised his kid. This Logan was a variant but- she wasn't stupid. It was eating him up not being able to do more than the bare minimum. Only hearing how you were doing through the grapevine.
His scowl deepened but he nodded, taking the card when she offered it back. "Thanks," he said gruffly.
"Don't fuck this up," she warned. Vanessa was going to rat him out to Wade if he didn't do something fast.
_________________
Logan parked his bike on the street and took a deep breath. He didn't tell you he was coming. You could still throw him out- or not let him go back with you. But. He felt like he SHOULD go. Or try to go. Because he knew the truth. And it was a shitty thing to do to avoid this, even if you'd let him off the hook- told him until you were blue in the face it wasn't his baby.
He opened the door and let himself inside, you were fidgeting and filling out paperwork. And he let himself watch you for just a second. Trying to gauge what kind of state you were in. Nervous. You were nervous. Tired. On edge. Your nails were bitten to the fucking quick- he exhaled sharply and crossed the floor coughing to attract your attention, "Hey, bub."
"Logan-"
"I uh- felt like the right thing to do," he said, feeling like an idiot. He picked up your purse of the chair next to you and sat down, putting it in his lap. "Didn't want you to be alone."
You worry the non-existent thumbnail of your right hand in your teeth and Logan reaches over and takes your hand carefully. "I don't want to do this here," you mumble.
"We're not," he said, smoothing his thumb over your knuckles. "We're just going to make sure everything is okay. Okay?"
"Okay," you murmur, looking back down at your clipboard to check over everything and starting to get up, but Logan takes it for you and takes it back to the receptionist before coming to sit next to you. Holding your hand again. Stroking your knuckles, your wrist, your palm, tracing little nonsense patterns. Trying not to let his own anxieties take over.
When you're called back, he follows. Not sure what else to do, you hadn't told him not to. Or yelled at him. Or pulled away. He didn't know how to read this. But- At least your heartbeat is slowed down a little. That's good. He's not making it worse.
Laid on a table with your abdomen exposed, all he can do is stroke your hair and breathe. He knows talking is happening. That it's important but he can't focus. All he can do is watch you and the screen and hate himself. He's got two fragile lives in his hands now.
And when you needed him the most he pussed out. And worse- you KNEW he did. He should be able to kiss you right now. To take you to lunch and then to do anything you wanted. Instead, he's stuck. Frozen in place and not sure what he can do right now as you lay there with tears sliding down your face- what you'll let him do. All he could do was sit. Like a fucking idiot.
"Hungry?" He asked, on the sidewalk, wondering if your jacket was thick enough.
"I've got a pot roast in my crock pot," you mumble, tucking your arms around yourself.
"Gonna be a while til that gets done, isn't it?" he asked, stepping closer to block the wind.
You nod, "But I had some oatmeal. And a cookies and cream Hershey's."
"That's not breakfast," Logan snorted.
"It is when that's all you want to eat."
Logan rolled his eyes, "They definitely got their fucking taste buds from you," he said. But he made a mental note to bring you a fucking cookies and cream goddamn candy bar. At least every couple days.
"Stressed spelled backwards-"
"Uh-huh," he said, taking your keys out of your hand gently, "Come on, bub. Let's get some real food in you real quick."
"You don't have to-"
"I do have to," he sighed. "Because you don't trust me. Because you're knocked up with my kid and you can't look at me. And I don't know- You needed me and I left you. But." He took deep breath, "I'm not leaving you again. And I'm going to stay. And I'm going to keep trying until you believe me."
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moonlight-prose · 7 hours
Text
RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME
➛ 07. BENEATH THE STAINS OF TIME
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a/n: wow i stalled on writing this chapter until the last minute. i think i really just didn't want to put them through this, but also i love the angst so it's an internal war i fought with myself. this is the pinnacle of the entire series. the one thing i plotted when i first came up with the story. so grab your tissues, a blanket, and a comfort fic for afterwards. because i am sorry for what's about to happen.
summary: he never liked the variant from your universe; the be all end all hero. but in the depths of anger and pain, logan howlett is forced to make a choice his variant self once made. save your soul and the people you might harm...or save the you he loves.
word count: 9.5k+
pairing: logan howlett x f!reader
warnings: DARK THEMES AHEAD BE WARNED, angst, pain, ptsd, talk of drowning, insanity, tw: torture, tw: blood, tw: death, grief, violence, wade wilson breaking the fourth wall, deadpool & wolverine energy, laura kinney has enetered the chat y'all, father daughter bonding, wade wilson's commentary, sacrifice, time.
PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST
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He couldn't breathe.
Logan had been underwater before, felt the press of the ocean against his chest and struggled for oxygen. Battling for breath, no matter how small. He understood what it felt like to drown—sink to the bottom and never get up. His adamantium skeleton had been the cause of him drowning far too many times in his life; until he'd grown accustomed to the sensation of fighting for air.
This felt magnified. As if he'd been at the bottom of the Atlantic—straight down the Mariana Trench—for centuries.
Was this how it felt to be buried alive? To find yourself in a grave six feet deep with no way of clawing to the surface.
He never thought he'd understand the sensation that kept him up at night; the prospect of death was too little a threat for him to actually worry about. Unimportant to a man who had spent two centuries of his life barely finding any meaning to it. After all, what was the fucking point when he wound up right back here. In the shallow end of his grave, waiting to lay down and exhale his final breath.
Time fell back into place the moment you left. Fortuna. Someone he never thought would find him here; now brought him to his knees with one simple act.
There was misery in love. He knew this the moment he fell in his own universe. He understood the cost of what might come from you using your powers without restrictions; what Charles told you. Yet he fell anyway. He allowed his heart to open up and give you leeway into the broken pieces of his mind—a part of himself he chose to ignore.
He should have fucking known better than to repeat history here.
He should have ignored the strings that bound his heart to yours and left you alone.
He should have, he should have, he should have...
But he didn't.
Now he bore the brunt of consequences he knew would one day show up.
Your apartment door slammed open, nearly getting torn off the hinges as a familiar echo of heavy boots thumped across the hardwood floor. He felt his spine tense where he still knelt—hands clutching the pieces of your shattered mug. Fortuna wouldn't be returning. He knew her tricks, knew her endgame, and coming back to the scene of disaster was never her forte.
The scent of vanilla and Ambrose filled his senses, stinging his nose, as a familiar dark browned girl rushed to his aid. A backpack hit the ground, sunglasses discarded on the counter, as his variant's daughter clutched his hands in hers. He couldn't bring himself to look at her. Not when he broke right there in a place that held such happiness.
She seemed to understand. Peeling the porcelain out of his palms and placing it back on the table; finding what other shards she could to put them all together. The silence felt safe. Familiar.
Logan found himself suddenly thankful for the variant that once existed in her world. She could see the cues before they even washed across his face; the bitter grief that her father once went through. He knew from when he met her in the Void, he couldn't be that person for her. But when she looked at him like that—a daughter willing to fight alongside her father—he hoped that maybe...he could.
"Althea called me," she said softly, hands wrapped around his wrists. "Whoever she is attacked Wade's place first."
His head rose, anger trickling in his chest as Laura's brown eyes mirrored his own. "She's..."
"I know," she muttered, pulling him to his feet. "Wade filled me in."
"Is he-"
"Takes a lot more than that to kill a Deadpool." She grimly kicked shattered glass to the side, shoving it to a corner as he staggered to his full height. He wore a neutral expression—somber even. But Laura could see the pain in his eyes; an exact replica of the older man she once clung to as a child—begging him to live for her sake. "He sounded pissed. Althea hung up before he could fill me in on the gory details."
"Fortuna," he sighed, eyes fixed on the demolished window. He'd have to help you fix it after all was said and done—after he apologized for dragging you into a mess that was never meant to touch you. "She found me."
Laura's nose scrunched, brows furrowed. "You're ex? I thought she could control time, not...multiverses."
"Charles's theory was that she wasn't exactly controlling time. More like what made up the universe as a whole."
She nodded. "Time included."
"Time included," he repeated. "I didn't think she'd...get this bad."
"You left her behind," she stated, rummaging in your fridge for something to drink. "I guess a part of me can understand her anger."
He knew she wasn't talking about him, but rather the man she once looked up to. Nonetheless the words still stung the same.
In a different world Logan could picture her here on nights not spent at the mansion studying and training. He could see you bonding with Laura—teaching her the history of the X-Men. Showing her the love of a mother she never had.
The image punched him in the chest until his breath became nonexistent and suddenly...he was drowning again. A choked noise echoed in the back of his throat. Laura's head snapped in his direction with concern etched across her face. Any other day he'd loathe that look, but tonight he couldn't dig his way out fast enough to care.
The soda can she tossed his way nearly smacked him in the head; effectively snapping him out of whatever fucking stupor his own mind was intent on trapping him in. He caught it, breath rushing back to his lungs, and gulped down the shitty sugary crap his own kid loved.
"That's fuckin' disgusting," he bit out, watching her smile into her own can.
"I like it."
He winced as the taste hit the back of his throat. "You're a kid. You'll grow out of it."
"You've said that before Dad. And I'm not a kid-" She tensed as the word left her mouth. The title that was never meant to fall upon his shoulders; never supposed to tie him to another person.
Something hesitant flashed in her eyes, mouth now a thin line as she waited for his inevitable reaction to her slip up. The words he uttered beside the fire no doubt on the tip of his tongue: Whoever you think I am...you got the wrong guy. But standing there, watching his kid hold hope in her eyes that he might say something different this time, made him finally understand what the fucking point was.
He didn't want to be the wrong guy.
He just wanted to be what she needed. What you needed.
"No," he sighed, lips curling into a smile that said enough. You can call me Dad. You can give me that responsibility and know I'll fight like hell to make sure I live up to his legacy. "I guess you're not."
They allowed the silence to sit in their chest for a brief moment. A moment of understanding passed in their grim smiles that held so much more. He'd tell it all to her one day. How he once longed for a life exactly like this, for a kid of his own. How he never believed himself worthy of the title Dad. How he'd lay down his entire being if she asked it of him.
Today though, they shed the titles of father and daughter and donned one they knew all too well. Wolverine. Ironic that the one thing he loathed would one day be given to a girl who wielded it with pride.
"What are you gonna do?" she asked, pushing off the counter and reaching for her bag.
"Find her."
"And when you do?"
His heart paused as the realization of what was to come began to reenter his mind. Fortuna had you captive, dangling you on a string in the hopes he would latch on to rescue the person who held his heart. Logan felt the urge to leap. Save you from the clutches of someone willing to kill you just to bring him unimaginable pain.
To get even for what he couldn't do that night.
But he also knew...Fortuna didn't deserve what happened. The humans destroyed what the X-Men built. They were the cause of everything that occurred since he left. He couldn't let their trauma bring down the woman he once loved. Even if she was so adamant on watching him give over his life for a version of her not yet broken by unimaginable pain.
"I don't fuckin' know," he admitted.
She took another sip, crushed the can in her palm and tossed it to the bin in the corner of your kitchen. "Wade's gonna want to speak to you. Find out what happened here."
He nodded. "You got everythin'?"
"I'm set."
"You know you don't have to do this kid. It's not your fight."
Her eyes narrowed, the firm set of her mouth so much like his own. She was a fucking mirror he never thought he'd have; showing him pieces of himself he once thought too ugly to be seen. Yet they were the reason she shined so bright. He could see the stubbornness ingrained into her very own DNA. A testament to his own unwillingness to let things go; to take on the battle for someone else as long as they didn't get hurt.
So much like him. So identical.
He felt a streak of fear run down his spine at that thought alone. She'd have to suffer for it. Just as he did. But goddammit if he wasn't going to do everything in his power to save her from the pain of bearing the title Wolverine.
"You love her," she stated plainly, as if nothing else mattered in this world but those three words. "Which means she's my family. We protect our own."
She didn't give him a chance to respond, scooping up her sunglasses and propping them on her nose with a huff. Maybe she didn't notice how he stood there, eyes wide as something pricked his heart. Maybe she ignored it for his sake—so uncomfortable with being vulnerable like him. But either way he couldn't deny the fact that stared right at him in big shiny letters.
She was his daughter. Through and through.
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"She took my arms!" Wade's voice echoed down the hallway, giving Logan pause as Laura took the lead. "Do you know how petty that is? When I find that Scarlet Witch carbon copy I'm gonna shove my katana down her throat as I dance to dub-step-"
"Hi Wade," Laura said, cutting him off from what was about to be an impressive rant.
He spun, baby arms swinging limply at his side. "Oh good. The clone of the man I actually need. Tell me, did you find your father cause mommy has to speak to him."
Logan took that chance to follow her through the open door. His eyes took in the destruction of a once nice living room. Burn marks stretched from floor to ceiling in multiple places where Fortuna's whip had made contact. He spotted two limbs in a pile by the couch, blood pooling on the carpet as Wade steamed with enough fury to sharpen his senses.
She’d come here first looking for him. Which means she somehow knew exactly where to find him.
"Peanut!" he shouted, eyes narrowed and baby fists clenched. "Did you have a nice morning? Get some good head? Because I was attacked by the long lost daughter of Princess Diana."
Laura's head cocked to the side, brows furrowed. "Diana Prince."
"Whatever!"
"Wade." His greeting could have been better. Though he was never one for handing out sympathy to the nearest victim.
Wade ceremoniously collapsed to the floor on his back, thumping his head against the carpet as Logan stepped further into the room. The window was ripped clean out of the wall, glass scattered everywhere which showed how Fortuna found out about her variant self. Logan could practically see the fight happen in the present time.
It made his stomach sour—his heart a rapid beat against his chest.
"How long will it take for those to finish?" He gestured to the arms that currently pointed two middle fingers in his direction.
"Couple hours. Why do you ask? Want a handy?"
"Ew," Laura sighed. "I'm gonna find some food. Want anything?" When Logan shook his head, she quickly dipped back out into the hallway, leaving him to deal with the wallowing lump on the floor.
He sighed, stepped over Wade and grabbed him. "Alright c'mon."
"I'm half the man I used to be. Literally. She took the only good thing I had until Ness got back." The limp wave of small hands in his face had Logan cringing back.
"So she came here first then."
Wade barked out a laugh. "Oh you mean your ex? Sabrina the teenage BITCH!"
Logan huffed, dragged him to the couch that had long chunks ripped out of the fabric. "She's a lot older than you think mouth."
"Sorry my bad. We didn't exchange your preferred blowjob tips and trade secrets about you when she was cutting off my arms!" The roll of his eyes was involuntary, barely there, but Wade latched onto it like a dog with a bone. "Did you just-"
He turned his head, exasperation bleeding into the air. "Did he just roll his eyes at me?"
The room went still as the gears in Logan's head began to turn. The fear was now palpable enough for Wade to figure out exactly what was happening. He sat up straight, gaze latched onto the apartment across the street. The wall gaped like a wound, leaving a trail of ghastliness in its wake. Wade was surprised to see minimal bloodshed, merely the path of destruction left by a being with too much power, but the inkling of you in pain made his stomach churn.
The amount of information he extracted out of Fortuna was slim to none, but it didn't take a genius to figure out what she went after once she was done wreaking havoc in his home.
"Logan," he started, anger trickling into his heart. "Where is sweet angel?"
He sagged into the couch—grief cutting into his chest as images of your smiling face plagued his mind. No answer would have been good enough to explain what happened. His face stricken with despair—the way he clutched his hands into fists on his knees—told Wade everything he needed to know.
Fortuna wasn't here to only kill Logan. Why dismantle one life when she could bring an end to the memory of Logan Howlett in this universe too? She'd take all of them down with her if it meant enacting her revenge.
Starting with you.
"No," he breathed.
"I don't know where they would have-" He bit down on the inside of his cheek until copper burst on his tongue. "Where they'd be."
The longer he sat there, the more he felt himself sink into the despondent pit in his mind. Yet no matter how he struggled to claw at the ground, it continued to drag him in earnest. The sharp peal of laughter—of taunting words that set his teeth on edge—mimicked the sound of Fortuna.
He wanted to scream, but who would be there to listen? Who would be there to drag him from the darkness now that you were gone?
A bag was tossed to the couch, barely breaking through the murkiness in his own mind. Laura dragged the only working chair in the kitchen closer to the couch. The snap and hiss of a Coke being opened filled the dire silence. Giving Logan something to latch onto. He might tell her one day how being near her settled the raging storm in his head; the calm he could never quite acquire somehow flowing through her with ease.
He had people to help him find you; people who cared for your well being.
People who would die to bring you home.
There would be no end for them where you weren't safe. Where they didn't offer themselves up on your behalf. You were the best of them. It certainly wasn’t your fault you fell in love with a man too twisted and mangled by pain to offer you even the illusion of peace.
"I know someone who might be able to help," she said, chewing thoughtfully on a granola bar. "You may not like it."
Wade's sigh was deafening, his body flopping back onto the couch with a groan. "We are not dragging McAvoy into this. Not when Stewart is better drama wise."
She took another bite, distant gaze stuck to a busted picture frame of Wade and Vanessa on an anniversary of some sorts. Wade wore red, Vanessa wore black. They resembled a couple others might look up to. Logan used to stare at it often in his fitful nights of sleep. More so when you wandered into his life; thoughts of a future tantalizingly close to the tips of his fingers.
He wanted that with you. A life worth more than every battle he fought, every scar that didn't stick. All the fucked up things he did evaporated like steam floating off water the second he met your eyes.
You and your honey-like smile; your hand a soft yet sturdy grip in his.
"Is your universe similar to this one?" Laura inquired, back in the moment as her mind reeled with possibilities.
"Somewhat."
"In what way?"
"Places and people still exist. It's pieces of time that are different. History isn't the same here." He could recall you begging him to explain his past. What wars he fought in, what happened for him to get to this point. Yet whatever you recorded wouldn't match the history books housed in your library.
Laura nodded, downing the last of her soda. "So places. Anywhere special she might have gone that might mean something to you?"
His mind fell to the one place even he couldn’t approach. The space that housed so many memories—so much agony. But going back there would mean facing the other X-Men and Fortuna wasn't stupid enough to risk falling into that trap.
"The mansion is too risky."
He thought back to your shared room. The walls that once flickered blue with Fortuna's power as he held her through the nightmares. He thought of a small two story farmhouse that sat on the outskirts of the property line. A home Charles offered. One he intended to rebuild with the promise of holding onto a love so permanent.
His heart dropped, laying in the base of his stomach like a stone he never intended to swallow. "I know where they are."
Wade perked up, arms an inch longer than before. "Mind sharing with the class peanut?"
Logan couldn't hear him over the noise in his head; the knowledge that Fortuna would pull such a heinous act of revenge. Taking you to the place he promised her. It made for the perfect ending to her already tragic story. Logan wasn't sure if he wanted to rip his claws into the couch below, or charge out the door with no plan.
He settled for heading to the hall closet, yanking the door open with more force than intended. It slammed against the wall as he tugged free a black unlabeled duffle bag from the top shelf. After the battle to save Wade's universe, he didn't think he would need this old yellow suit anymore. At the time he was tempted to throw it out and forget it existed.
He eventually came to his senses.
Salvaging what he could and rebuilding small pieces in case the time came formed an amalgamation of what once resembled an X-Men suit. His fingers traced the silver X attached to the belt. The symbol that once held so much hope. Fortuna wore the same. A tie that kept them forever bound; forever each other's equal even in a different universe.
"You're going after her," Laura said.
"Of course he is." Wade stumbled to his feet. "We're finally getting that family road trip."
"Would now be the wrong time to say Avenger's Assemble? Or should we wait for the third act battle sequence?"
Logan felt the gaping maw of his heart grow the longer you were apart from him. An itch formed beneath his skin. The source was indeterminable but he knew what caused it to start. His entire being called out to you, begged you to survive until he managed to carry you to safety. Yet the biting horror of reality began to settle like a frozen chill in his veins.
What if he finally destroyed the only good thing about his life?
What if he was too late?
What if...you didn't survive?
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You couldn't differentiate night from day anymore. After the first two hours, you were left with a stabbing pain in the side of your head—turning your vision blurry. After what felt like five or six (or perhaps eight) you gave up on trying to keep count. The veins were prominent against your hands as blood steadily dripped to the floor.
A pool of crimson agony that you could practically see yourself in.
If you opened your eyes, would you see the broken parts of a soul she seemed intent on dragging out? Would they match hers? The sound of her gravel lilted voice murmured in the corner of the room where she waited. A stoic figure of patience. Seeking penance for the harm caused to someone so innocent.
You both knew this was a fight meant for Logan. You knew only one of them walked away from whatever age old hatred still burned bright enough to burn the skin off your body.
That didn't stop you from wishing you could shoulder the burden for him. The words collateral damage didn't mean anything to you before. Merely things spouted to harm your already vulnerable and emotional state. But the longer you gave them time to sink in, the more you accepted her veracity. You would cease to exist one way or another come tomorrow morning.
This was the ugly undeniable truth.
The one thing Logan could not save you from.
"I know you're awake."
Fear curled around your heart like a fist as your eyes cracked open sluggishly—triggering a dull pain in your skull. The ability to speak was stripped from you after an hour of screaming. The hoarse echo of your voice sent a throbbing knife down your throat you chose to ignore.
So you stared at her; watched while she paced the floor in front of you—blue rolling off of her like waves from the ocean.
"He's gonna come for you," she muttered more to herself. "He'll show up."
You groaned and watched her stiffen—milky eyes flashing cerulean. The burn of the rope on your skin counteracted the searing ache in your torso. Her whip hung around her waist—coated in a dried layer of your blood. The sight sent bile up your throat even though your stomach remained empty. She stared at you as if you were someone else entirely; someone from a past life you'd never know about.
The need to inquire—to know more—began to build under your skin. But your body would no longer respond to what you wanted. The depletion of your energy affected more than your ability to speak; it tore at what little movement you had, ripping everything to shreds on the inside. You knew you looked half dead—felt like it too—but she could see the slight twitch of your mouth almost ready to open.
"Charles would have liked you," she revealed as if it were a small secret meant to be kept between the two of you. "He always had an affinity for those interested in mutant powers."
Sucking in a breath, you managed to force your voice to work. "I-I know the history."
"I bet you would." She glanced at the window where dusk crept into the late afternoon sky; brilliant hues of orange and red mimicking the pain in your body. "I didn't think I'd exist in this universe."
"You don't," you croaked. "I'm not a mutant."
Her lips curled, a small laugh exhaling from her mouth. "Yeah. I guess you're not. Maybe that's what he likes about you."
Logan's face seeped into the back of your mind; the tender smile he wore when you woke up together. The hope in his eyes that this might remain a consistent part of his life. That he may have lucked out on the prospect of getting to have you for as long as you chose to keep him.
Suddenly that part of your life felt a million miles away. Just barely out of reach, growing further in distance the harder you tried to capture it.
"I-I'm you," you mumbled, head tipping to the side. "That's why."
"No. You're not me." She regarded you with a look of pity, lips down turned in a mock pout. Ire burned in your chest with the embers of a flame lit by Logan. "You're weak."
You huffed, digging your nails into your palms to divert your attention from the pain. "I survived you."
The slap that whipped across your face was unexpected. You cried out—head falling back against the chair—as she stood over you. Power emanating from her stance. This wasn't someone to toy with. You could see how she craved to rip your tongue from your mouth; the need to silence her variant crawling beneath her skin.
But something held her back from approaching that final line.
Something scared her.
"You won't die if you do it," you wheezed, struggling to breath through a nose so clotted with dried blood. "That's not how this works."
She sneered. "And you're smart enough to know how all of this works."
"So it seems."
Her fingers gripped your wrist, nails boring into your already sliced open skin, as she leaned over you. "The Logan in this universe is dead." You stuttered out a halfhearted breath; body ringing with a plea to stop. To put an end to this fucking torture. "How did he die?"
You winced, leveling her glare with one of your own. "He sacrificed himself."
"You're fucking with me," she laughed, the sound shrill and hoarse.
Neither of you heard the creak behind her. You could barely register anything other than the rush of blood that pounded against your eardrums. She seemed to be enjoying how your body slowly deteriorated beneath the strain of the pain. Far too distracted to notice the person creeping into the house—sunglasses on her face—claws extended in a stance of defense.
"Who garnered enough fucking attention from Logan Howlett for him to sacrifice himself?" she jeered.
"His daughter."
Fortuna spun whip in hand, as a young woman stood mere feet away. Her head was cocked in interest as if she'd never quite seen two identical people in the same room. You knew her name the second your eyes locked on her form. The same dark hair, same grim tight lipped frown. The same silver claws and stubborn streak.
The sight of Laura Kinney took your breath away.
She stood before you every bit the girl that Logan made her out to be as he spoke about her in shared conversations at your kitchen table. You could see the mirror image of her father in each expression, each small twitch of her body that prepared to fight. And something flared to life in your chest.
You were angry that Fortuna was about to hurt her. Logan's daughter was ready to put her life on the line to rescue someone she'd never met before.
A missing detail which didn't appear to matter to her. Logan loved you. That was certainly enough for her.
Fortuna gaped at her—astounded by the familiar details and hints that Laura was indeed telling the truth. Not only had Logan Howlett died in this world, but he left behind a legacy that would live on for him. He saved the only important thing in his life so she could one day do the same for the version of her father who would stay.
"He's here isn't he?" she asked calmer than you expected. The whip snapped to the ground. You flinched at the sound. A fact that Laura clocked within seconds—her head tilted in your direction.
Though you couldn't see her eyes behind the pink sunglasses, you knew that fury burned in them as they would her father's.
"He sends his regards." Laura's fingers curled into fists.
"A child," she spit. "He sent a child to do his bidding?"
She shrugged, lips curling into a false grin. "Don't worry. I'm more than capable of killing you."
You felt pride flicker in your heart as Logan's cocksureness bled through her words. Where Laura went, Logan wasn't too far behind. You pulled at the restraints, the burn of ropes dragging along open wounds, but you refused to let Laura do this on her own. It seemed that the both of you had turned to the same page—her head nodding in your direction subtly.
"Well." Fortuna stepped forward, sapphire pouring off her body. "I suppose Logan's legacy won't last long in this universe."
Laura charged forward with a scream, claws slicing at Fortuna's middle only for the whip to wrap itself around her arm. With a shout, Fortuna flung her to the side—watching with an unhinged smile as Laura hit the wall hard enough to make you wince. You tugged at the rope—a hoarse cry ripping from your throat when a boot slammed into the legs of the chair.
"Don't tell me you're ready to leave," she shouted. "We were bonding."
"Fuck you," you snapped.
"Ouch." Her hand gripped your chin, lifting you to meet her expressionless eyes. "Is that the best you can do, human?"
"No," you gasped, hand scrambling for the knife at her thigh. "This is."
It embedded in her arm, slicing open skin as she shouted in rage, stumbling back into Laura's vicinity. Claws ripped through the back of her leg, cutting open her calf, as a familiar dark head of hair slid past her, crouching in front of your chair with a roar.
"You bitch!" Fortuna tossed the blade to the side, her hand forming around the open wound.
It clattered against the floor seconds before the door burst open—a man in red bursting through and flinging yet another baby knife towards Fortuna's healing body. She ducked, whip coiling like a snake in the air, slamming down with a crack. Wade shrieked, flipping to the side and ducking behind the broken couch as the familiar click of a bullet falling into the chamber resonated in the air.
"I'd say I'll put my hands up but you'd probably tie them together huh. You kinky minx!"
You winced through the grin, Laura's eyes tracked Fortuna's movements like a predator waiting when to strike. Whatever the plan was, Logan was sure to make sure someone was on you at all times. If only to get you out of the house and into the forest safely. From there it was quick to disappear.
Wade seemed to be the distraction in this case. Fitting.
His head peeked over the couch—the whip slicing over him with a sound that pierced through you. "You die tonight Deadpool."
"You don't want me. You want my buddy right outside this house." He stood, finger pulling the trigger quicker than you expected. Only for a silver and blue whip to slice through it—the fragmented pieces of a smoking bullet hitting the floor and rolling away.
"Surrender you walking condom."
"Pump the hate brakes Wanda Maximoff." Another bullet slid into place. "Peanut junior? Would you like to take it away?"
Launching herself into the air, Laura toppled Fortuna to the side with a scream, her claws slashing to get her pound of flesh. Wade laughed, striding towards you—boot effortlessly kicking his knife up and into his hand. You’d never wanted to hug the man more.
He winced at the sight of your puffy face; your right eye was nearly swollen shut from where Fortuna decided to land her hits. A pastime she seemed to enjoy, simply to hear you scream.
You wondered if you took off the mask, would you see Wade's face bleeding with rage. Or did he too wear an expression of pity.
"Logan's gonna kill her," he muttered, crouching in front of you and sliding the knife through the ropes with ease. "I've got ya sweet angel."
"W-Where is he?" You staggered to your feet, Wade's arm wrapped tightly around your waist to keep you upright. "He can't be here. She'll kill him Wade."
He clicked his tongue, leading you to the front steps, past where Laura was busy twisting Fortuna's whip around her own neck. "He knows what's at risk, angel. Believe me. I offered to be the noble sacrifice but I played that card when it came to saving this universe and there's no take backs."
"He's gonna die," you rasped, your knees buckling as he got you over the last step. "H-He can't die."
Wade gripped your arms, settling you to the ground with a grunt. "You forget who you're fucking sweet angel. He's the Wolverine."
"But she's-"
"A toxic ex who can't seem to take no for an answer. We've all got one of those."
You huffed. "She's more than an ex."
"I know." Pulling the gun free from his thigh, he made sure you were safe before stepping back to the front stoop. "But that doesn't mean this isn't a daytime soap opera." He turned to the treeline with a sigh. "You coming, your majesty or should I roll out the red carpet?"
A glimpse of the man in question stopped your heart, the breath catching in your throat, as Logan finally stepped forth. His suit was sewn with pieces of black leather (no doubt from Wade's leftover stash), a yellow X stretched across his chest now became the sole focus. Yet that isn’t what filled your body with warmth.
This time he wore the suit with pride. A glint of determination was in his eyes that once never used to exist. He stepped forward the X-Man this world needed; ready and willing to take on the legacy of a man he once loathed. You felt your heart twist violently at the sight—love pouring into your chest faster than you could stop it.
"Honey," he breathed, rushing over—hesitation and a storm of outrage clashing together in his hazel eyes.
"I'm okay."
He huffed through his nose, hands gathering you gently in his arms. "Don't bullshit me honey."
Wade's cough was exaggerated, his hands gesturing to the doorway. Laura's shouts and the crashing of furniture being demolished spilled through the broken windows—her rage matching her father's right down to the familiar lilt of her roar. She was a fighter. Just like the man who held you as if you were glass. Your pain, now a reflection in his eyes as he took in what Fortuna did to you.
"You can't kill her. She’s too powerful," you stated.
“You’re safe.” He didn’t seem to comprehend your words. Opting to press you close enough to feel his body heat sink into your frigid form. “That’s all that matters.”
Wade ducked down, pressing his face close to Logan's. "Yeah. I don't mean to interrupt your romantic hero kiss the girl moment. But what the fuck are we gonna do?"
"She can't keep going like this," Logan replied. "Eventually she's gonna have to tap out."
"Of course! Makes perfect sense. Mind elaborating for the audience honey badger?"
Logan sighed, his hand cupping your face with a pained noise in the back of his throat. "Her energy will run out. Same as Charles and...Jean. They couldn't keep up the fight forever."
"Okay but the whole freezing time business." He glanced to the side, shoulders lifting in a perfunctory shrug. "I know right, we really could have explained this earlier."
"Mutants are aware." Logan rose to his feet, leaving you to sit on the ground, your hand outstretched to keep him here. "We have to struggle but we can break free if she's weak enough."
"Wow." Wade sagged, a muffled groan coming through the mask. "That's just lazy writing."
You gripped Logan's hand, forcing him to step closer. "You're not going in there."
"Honey-"
"No." Gripping the stair railing, you struggled to your feet—eyes blazing with a headstrong fighting spirit Logan loved you for. "She'll kill you Logan. I can't lose you. I-I won’t."
His breath was heavy, hand curling around the back of your neck to press his forehead to yours. "You're not gonna lose me alright? Not today."
"Logan-"
Wade gripped your arm, drawing your gaze to him. "Don't worry sweet angel. He's got a bodyguard." You leveled him with a glare that would have sent him six feet under if his mutant power wasn't regeneration. "Have I ever mentioned that your eyes are the perfect shade of rage and violence. It's like a beautiful fucked lava lamp from the eighties."
You weren't sure if he was paying you a compliment or trying to lighten the mood. Logan sighed against your cheek, disappointment practically bleeding through his words.
"Seventies Wade."
"He would know. He's from 753 B.D." He turned. "Before Deadpool."
"A.D.," you spit, fighting the hint of a grin that threatened to bloom across your face.
"Not in this universe."
A shout tore through the small sliver of peace as Laura was thrown from the house, landing in a bloodied heap on the grass. Mere seconds passed before she was flipping to her feet again, claws extended and glasses forgotten about in the dirt. You wondered if the surge of warmth in your chest was pride or something else entirely.
Perhaps one day you'd get the chance to figure it out.
"Time to go do what heroes do," Wade said, nudging Logan as Fortuna floated through the open doorway, landing mere feet away from where you stood.
"Wolverine," she crooned, her boots a steady thump against the wooden porch. "Come to rescue the human I see."
Logan gripped your waist, moving you away from the house with quick steps. You clawed at his back to get him to stop. To keep him from leaving you behind. But Laura's hands on your shoulders forced you to remain calm—to remain on the edge of the property and watch as the man your heart screamed for walked away.
"Logan!" you shouted, fighting against the girl's hold, but the wasted energy was all for naught. There was no breaking away from a determined Wolverine.
He rejoined Wade with a darkened grimace. His claws ripping through the flesh of his knuckles as Wade pulled free the katanas strapped to his back. Your voice shouting his name set his entire body on edge; the urge to go to you, comfort the panic that filled your veins, nearly breaking his spirit.
But this was not your war and Logan would go down fighting before he let another person he loved fall into the hands of death.
"Alright," Wade grunted, cracking his neck. "Maximum effort."
Fortuna's whip snapped in the air, slicing a gaping hole in time as Logan and Wade charged. She leapt forward, boot pushing off the railing and toppling into them with a shout—a stolen knife carving into Logan's shoulder. He shoved her off, claws swiping for her neck, teeth bared in a snarl.
She ducked, foot slamming into Wade's stomach, rupturing the surrounding area with a blast that sent Logan sliding back into the dirt. He grunted, claws burying into the soil as Wade reached for his guns. A single katana forgotten on the ground.
"Pathetic," she sneered.
"Look who's talking McFly." Wade fired off three rounds, watching her roll to avoid the bullets, her hands crushing the dead grass beneath her.
She pointed to Wade. "You're first."
He laughed. "Bring it on you witch bitch."
Fortuna scoffed, glancing at Logan. "Does he ever shut the fuck up."
"Ha! Good luck with that. I can go on forever."
The whip unraveled from her wrist, rapidly slicing towards Wade—wrapping around his arm in a dramatic rendition of what already happened. This time he was prepared. Sprinting towards Logan, he rolled to the side as claws dragged down your arm. Opening a wound in her arm; blood pouring down her skin, dripping onto the grass.
“Fuck!” she snapped, knife lodging into Wade’s back as she leapt towards Logan.
His knee met her stomach, slamming her a few feet back until she landed on the ground. A groan reverberating in her chest.
Time flickered, punching them in the chest as they fought to move. Air rushed to his lungs as she stumbled to her feet—time falling back into place. Wade grabbed the second gun strapped to his thigh with a huff. The shot went off, the bullet finding its mark in Fortuna's wounded arm.
She screamed, falling to one knee—waves of blue pouring into the ground, forming a bubble of safety. She plucked at the fabrics of the universe, pulling them towards her as Wade pulled the trigger until the mag was empty. A pile of bullets by her body now trapped in light.
"Fuck!" Wade tossed his gun to the side.
Logan turned to see Laura holding you back, your face stricken in fear as you watched them battle it out. It was a struggle to have you here. To keep himself sane. He longed for you to be you close. What he wouldn’t give to take you away from all of this carnage. But you weren't safe as long as Fortuna was around.
She would always be a step behind, ready to chase him to the ends of this universe simply to watch him burn. He knew what he had to do. But the cost of making that choice weighed heavy on his chest—choking the very breath from his lungs. Wade could see it clear as day even as Fortuna began to build enough strength to keep herself going—to pull one final move.
With a shout, she swung her arms out, forcing enough energy their way to fling them into the air. Logan watched as spots began to form on his skin—time ripping away the very makeup of his DNA as she swung her whip in the air. It latched to his waist, dragging him forward until he was on his knees—body struggling to heal from something so unknown.
"Is she worth it?" she sneered, fingers curling into his hair to maneuver his head to keep his eyes on you. The struggle you put up to free yourself from Laura's grasp. "I'm going to kill her next Logan."
"No." He pushed against the vice of your whip, eyes latching onto the white streak hidden in your hair. A sign of what Fortuna had already started.
"I'll age her day by day, year by year, until she's dust."
"NO!"
She laughed, her lips brushing his cheek. "And you? You will have to live without her."
Tears stung his eyes when you finally managed to slip through Laura's hold, legs trembling as you forced your body to sprint his way. The sight of Logan's hair graying, wrinkles carving across his skin, brought you to the edge of your sanity. It ripped at your chest until blood poured from your heart. Staining the ground beneath you.
You couldn't lose him; you didn't know how to breathe without him. And you refused to watch him die from the sins of his past; actions he did not commit.
"Wait!" Laura shouted, running after you as Wade staggered to his feet.
"Angel!"
There was no thought process to your actions, no sense why you did what you did. All you could think about—all that filled your heart with dread—was the knowledge that Logan wouldn't survive this. He wouldn't be there to love you, give you the future you desperately ached for. He would never know you loved him.
That alone drove you forward with a pained cry.
Flinging yourself onto Fortuna, you sent the both of you flying a few feet away as Wade and Laura ran to rip her off you. But time stopped. Every sound stilled, and they were forced to stand and watch as Fortuna straddled your waist—her hands reaching for your throat.
"What do you have huh?" she snarled. "What the fuck do you have that I don't?"
"Please!" You punched her wherever you could reach, desperate to get her off of you. "He-"
"He what?"
"He wouldn't want you to do this Fortuna."
She laughed, manic enough to chill your heart with fear. "Who Logan? You think I fucking care? I would kill him in a-"
"CHARLES!" She froze, eyes flashing sapphire as her grip loosened. Giving you a chance to suck in air. "H-He loved you. Logan told me."
"Charles," she mumbled—a glimpse of your shared original color of her eyes coming through the expanse of white. "He's..."
"Dead." You gasped, turning to see three people you'd die for struggling against time—their bodies battling the power of someone far too corrupt. Someone who forgot where they came from; who their home was. "Your family...my family...they wouldn't want you to become this. P-Please. Charles, Jean, Storm. They didn’t want this for you."
She turned, gaze softening. "You would die for them."
Hot tears burned your frigid skin—falling down your temples and into your hair. "I would."
Stuttering out a breath, she fixed you with a gaze of someone you might have recognized in the mirror. A woman so broken by what time did to her. What the humans caused all because of her DNA. You wanted to promise that life might have turned out different if Logan stayed; that she would be safe. But even you knew it would be a lie.
There would be no saving her from the one thing that created her.
Time.
Leaning down, she pressed her forehead to yours—defeat curving around her shoulders, weighing heavy against her heart.
"Tell him I'm sorry," she murmured.
Pain detonated under your skin before you could open your mouth to respond, forcing your body to convulse in her tight grip. Scarred hands pressed tightly to your face, pinning you to the ground as her whip latched around your chest. Logan's roar became a distant buzzing sound that surrounded you as blue washed over your twisted bodies.
Her brows furrowed, eyes bleeding white as her iris began to form once more—the long lost color that matched your own gaze.
A mirror you wanted to shatter. Damn the bad luck that might befall you; this remained too agonizing to endure.
Her lips pressed to your ear, the pain ebbing from your veins with each pulsing wave. You clawed at her wrists, nails slicing through calloused skin as a scream erupted from the depths of your chest. Piercing the air and slamming directly into three chests.
People who were ripping at the ground to get to you—pulling their bodies across dirt as the curse of time began to lift from the air.
"Do better than me," she whispered, the hot drip of her tears mixing with your own.
Someone yanked her off of you, hurling her to the side with a familiar rumbled growl. You gasped for air, dragging your half limp body away from where Logan stood over her—claws a silver shine emanating with a promise.
"No!" Laura and Wade's hands clamped on your shoulders—keeping you at a safe enough distance. This time refusing to give you any leniency in your movements.
Logan lowered himself to one knee, chest heaving with stunted breaths as Fortuna lay before him—eyes wide with fear. He knew you were behind him. He could feel the burn of your gaze. But all the pain Fortuna caused began to splinter at what little mercy he might have held onto. Yet still the familiar fist of grief wrapped around his heart, reminding him of who Fortuna was.
The woman he once loved.
The woman he couldn't save.
"P-Please," she sighed, hand gripping onto his wrist, tugging his claws against her chest. "Before I hurt you Logan. Before I hurt her."
"I-" He squeezed his eyes shut to the sight of a you so broken—so defeated. "I'm sorry."
She grinned, eyes clear for the first time—weightless after such suffering. "It’s okay. I-I’ll get to see them again. Charles. Jean. Storm."
A sob wracked his body as he dragged her into his lap, hand cupping her face with the tenderness she deserved. "Tell them I'm sorry. Tell them..."
"I will," she murmured, allowing him the freedom to break the final vow of their love. "Till death huh baby?"
Your shouts of his name echoed in the background—Wade's voice mixing with Laura's—and suddenly Logan understood why he found himself here. Why he would stay.
They weren't just his family. They were pieces of his heart sliced open and bared to the ravages of the world. And he would be their protector. The one to meet what danger threatened them head on; willing to fight till his last breath.
He'd be the person he could never be for her.
"Of course," he sighed, tears streaking down his cheeks. "Till death."
"Love her," she breathed, cupping his cheek and forcing his claws to pierce her chest. He sliced through her with a choked shout, the warmth of her blood spilling over his hands. Tainting him further; breaking his already tormented heart. "Love her how you couldn't love me Logan."
"I will honey." Her eyes dragged to how you lay on the ground, Wade's body practically covering yours to keep you from getting any closer. "I promise."
Light flickered in her vision—white and blue and perfect—as Logan clutched her close. Sobbing over a woman he would forever hold the memory of. The last of his family that he couldn't save. Her lips curled into a smile—serenity glistening in her eyes—as a familiar voice echoed in her mind. Tugging her close into welcoming arms.
"Hello Fortuna."
She stuttered out what little breath remained in her chest, a tear slipping down her cheek. "Charles."
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"I like it," a voice mumbled, breaking through the darkness that shrouded your body. "And not just cause Ness has one."
A girl hummed. "It's cool."
"Very superhero."
You groaned, body battling any slight movement as your eyes fluttered open with a wince. Light streamed through a grand window, the bed too soft to be yours, yet you knew who sat beside you. Even through the blurred haze of vision, Wade's face was unmistakable. Shifting, you felt everything in you lock up—a hoarse cry falling past your lips.
Hands pushed you back down, steadying you gently as you were finally able to see the other person sitting on a table, munching on some fries. She had a shake beside her—feet propped up on the back of Wade's chair. The sunglasses she lost in the dirt were back atop her head, keeping her hair back.
"Whoa there angel face." He fluffed the pillow violently, jolting you slightly. "You've got two broken ribs and a wound across your torso that would give me being ripped in half by Juggernaut a run for my money."
"W-Where's-"
"Shhh." He raised a crystal glass of water to your lips. "Nurse Wade is here to take care of you. Sorry I don't have the outfit. I couldn't get to a Spirit Halloween in time."
Laura snorted into her food. "It's July."
"That doesn't matter. Those stores are like herpes. You can't ever get rid of that fucker."
"Where's Logan," you said through a broken whisper.
The silence isn't what scared you. No, you'd been through too much to be scared by the threat of nothing but melancholy looks in favor of telling you the truth. You could handle the quiet. What sent terror into your heart was the fact that you knew before you even opened your eyes where he was. His warmth was nowhere to be found in this bedroom; it barely lingered on your own body.
The man who held your heart, who promised to always protect you, was gone.
"No," you breathed, tears welling up and once again blurring your vision.
"He didn't want to go," Laura interjected.
You blinked furiously to keep them at bay. "What do you mean?"
"Fortuna." She pointed to the window that overlooked an expanse of green.
With a pained gasp, you turned to see what she was directing you towards—eyes fixing on a clearly buried grave covered in fresh dirt. A shovel stood straight, plunged a foot into the ground—the handle covered in a stain of deep brown.
Laura exhaled heavily. "She's dead. Logan buried her after he...killed her."
The breath rushed from your lungs, anguish slicing through your heart. "He..."
Wade nodded, somber and horrifyingly quiet. "He wanted to stay sweet angel. We forced him to go."
"Why?" you exclaimed, your body trembling under the stress of waking up too soon. "If he wanted to stay-"
"He was broken. I thought when I found him it was bad. This was worse angel face." Wade gathered your hands in his, drawing you close with a sigh. "He needs to grieve her."
"But I love him," you whimpered, unashamed by how fast the tears were falling. Laura watched you with the eyes of her father—striking your heart in a way that split you in two. "I-I didn't get to tell him."
"He knew," she murmured softly. "Trust me."
Wade pressed a swift kiss to your hands. "He'll come home. I made him fucking promise to return to you. But right now he's gotta figure some shit out."
Laura slipped off the table, curled onto the end of the bed and handed you something folded and crumpled—streaked in stains of blood and ink that bled through the thin notebook paper. You took it with a shaky breath, cold hands closing around hers with a grim smile. Something to let her know that you were thankful for everything she did.
She wasn't your daughter. This you knew. But you wouldn't mind if she bestowed that title on you one day.
In fact...you hoped she would.
"He told me to give that to you," she said, eyes brighter than before.
You sucked in a painful breath, unfolding the letter with trembling hands. Seeing his handwriting was like a punch to your chest. The smudged words and crossed out lines as he attempted to explain himself in words for the first time. This wasn't his forte—you understood that—but the fact that he tried filled your chest with warmth.
Honey,
Don't hate Wade or even my kid for me not being there. Believe me I fuckin' wanted to. Almost ripped him to pieces when he told me I had to go for your sake. But they were right. You Fortuna was the only family I had left. I have to remember what loving her felt like. I need to let her go.
Wade and Laura are there to protect you, care for you like I can't right now. But I made a promise to you and her. So you can expect me back one day.
I care about you
I love you.
So much.
I'll love you till the end honey. Don't forget that.
-Logan
You clutched the paper to your chest, salt coating your taste buds as you sobbed for the man that you failed to protect. You would have died for him. He knew this. Perhaps that's why he left; to give you a chance to heal without him. To return as the Logan you met, not the one mangled by grief.
Laura moved closer, her hand shifting to clutch yours as tears glistened in her eyes. A solemn smile on her face. This is what Logan offered you. People who loved you; people who would die for you. Logan made sure that even in his absence you'd be safe—protected.
He gave you the one thing he couldn't keep for himself. The one aspect of his life he had to learn to accept.
Logan left you a family.
note: my brain is mush but i love you guys. it will get better i promise!
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chleem · 13 hours
Text
Flashing lights #1
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Series; actor Drew x actress reader
Summary: Drew gets involved in the worst scandal of his career. One way to solve it? Proving to the whole world that he’s the sweetest lover to exist. Who better to help than the one person he can’t stand? You, an A class actress with an alcohol addiction. So, will Drew clear up his reputation, or leave with a bigger mess to clean up?
Genre: fake dating, enemies to lovers(?, slow burn, angst, smut,
Warning: mentions of alcohol, swearing, mentions of k!lling oneself, mentions of rape & sa, mentions of drug usage, smoking & vaping,
⋆.˚ please dont copy my work, if inspired please tag me
⋆.˚ this is entirely fictional, if uncomfortable then don't read
♡⸝⸝ chapter two out soon! index
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Late February 2024
Is that five, or six bottles in front of you? 
Your vision is burry, head feeling twisted, and your limbs feel as if they weight a hundred kilograms each. “Shit,” you curse, your hands reaching over to your bag. 
In attempt to reach it without standing up, you fall, and you laugh. Alcohol was able to make that fall feel painless. Getting up however, felt like the hardest task ever, but you manage, and you rummage through your bag for your pack of cigarettes. 
You find it; but no cigarettes to be found in it. 
“Fuck!” You yell, throwing your empty pack across the trailer. Good thing your makeup staffs gone, and no one to see your about-to-erupt tantrum. Reaching for your phone, you call your manager, Laura, only for it to go straight to voicemail. Wow. What are managers even for? 
Gotta do everything by yourself. You throw your phone onto the couch, and walk out of your trailer. You didn’t care whether anyone saw you; you just cared about getting a smoke. 
The afternoon sun is blinding to you, the effects of alcohol making it even more unbearable. Is there a convenience store around? Fuck, maybe you should just ask the staff for a smoke. 
You keep walking along the other trailers, feeling some eyes on you. Well, usually at a filming set everyone is busy with their own business, but you’re Y/n. You grab attention by simply breathing. Others might love it, but growing up in showbiz, you just wish to get away from it. Even if just for a second, you would love to be an invisible person. 
You keep walking, hoping to spot anyone with a cigarette in their hands. But your legs beg to stop, and you feel extra dizzy when you bump into a hard…wall? Well, it was hard, but soft at the same time. 
Warm hands wrap around your waist just as you’re ready to fall onto the ground. Even your drunken state knows that you should be clinging onto something if you’re about to fall, and in this case, you were holding onto the person’s biceps. 
You look up, feeling as if this person was 200 centimeters. Shit. He’s tall. 
His hat is low, but you could see blue circles staring down at you, and although his face was attractive, his expression was mean. As if wanting to murder you. Well, he probably does, since a stranger fell into him. 
“You-“
His cologne hits you, and the urge to throw up hits. 
Vomit splatters on his entire shirt, and just like that, you pass out, still in his arms. 
——
Woah. Even getting up slowly triggers the muscles in your brain. 
You blink a few times, adjusting to the lights in your trailer. What time was it? Did you already finish filming? A million questions enter your head as you look around you, and you notice the five large empty liquor bottles on the table. 
Right. No memory whatsoever. 
A wet towel is on your forehead. Weird, you think, as you throw it to the side. 
But then you hear the trailer’s bathroom door open, and you immediately feel uneasy. Who the fuck could be in here other than you? 
The stranger walks out, and he’s half naked. 
And attractive. 
But he’s half naked! 
You quickly check yourself, and yes, you’re still in your clothes. 
“Who… who the fuck are you?” You say, feeling really unsafe right now. You had no gun, no weapon of any kind, and you were terrified. This stranger was extremely fit and tall, and he was standing just a few feet away from you. 
He’s staring at you with his blue eyes, and honestly, you can’t tell what he’s thinking. Is he gonna kill you? Rape you? 
“You have no idea who I am?”
“Yes, you fucking creep. Get out of my trailer before I yell,” you threaten. 
His eyebrows furrow as if you were in the wrong, and he crosses his arms, leaning against your vanity across from you. Woah. His arms. It looks very delicious-
What. “Seriously. Get the fuck out,” you point over to your trailer door. 
He throws his head back, an annoyed groan escaping him. 
What’s his problem? You think, eyebrows furrowed. Okay. That uneasiness, has transformed into anger. “Fuck- get the fuck out, your weirdo. I’m…you know what, I’m calling the fucking cops.”
You look around for your phone, but see it charging on the vanity beside him. 
“Drew Starkey,” he finally says, and you look at him, confusingly. Never in your life have you ever heard that name. Were you even suppose to remember or know this person? He groans again, not even hiding his annoyance at you. “Wow. You’re such a bitch, you know that?”
The audacity- “you’re in my fucking trailer right now. You’re in the faults here. You can’t come in half naked, and act annoyed at me. You fucking cunt-“
The door to your trailer opens, and you squint at the light coming in. 
It was your manager Laura, and she’s holding a bottle of water, a pack of cigarettes, and a folded t-shirt. 
“Laura! A fucking pervert in my trailer-“
“Here you go, Drew. Again, so sorry,” Laura ignores you, handing the man, who apparently, is called Drew, the clean t-shirt. The name he just told you, it was his name? Why did he act so offended earlier, when he said it? Is he like some kind of, celebrity? Impossible; you've met almost all the top actors in showbiz, you would've known him.
“What the fuck,” you voice out, chuckling to get the anger and confusion out of you. You watch as the stranger puts the shirt on, enjoying the way his muscles flex and relaxes is… kind of arousing. But you pull away, feeling embarrassed and egoistic to admit you’re attracted to this rude stranger. 
Laura comes near you, placing the cigarettes and water on the table and sniffs you. “Yeah, you’re still a bit tipsy,” she comments, before grabbing perfume and mints from your bag and sitting down. “Can you still film?”
“What time is it?” You ask, while grabbing the pack and lighting a cigarette up. You breathe it in, and smoke out, immediately feeling more relaxed and in your element. 
“4:20.”
“What time was I suppose to be there?” You giggle, breathing in your cigarette. Oh, it felt so good to smoke. All the energy booster you needed. 
“2:30,” Laura says, sighing. 
“Oh shit,” you laugh, putting the cigarette between your lips. You forcefully spray the perfume on you, knowing the cigarette is probably going to cover the smell anyways. You take another blow of the cigarette, before putting it into Laura’s mouth. She groans angrily at you, and you just chuckle, looking over to the stranger now. He’s not shirtless anymore, and has a hat on. He’s staring at you, with a mean expression now. “What are you still doing here?” You rudely state. 
“Y/n, he’s gonna be here for a long time,” Laura replies instead, and you turn around to her. You look at her with furrowed eyebrows, confused by what she meant. Laura also stares at you with an amused expression. “What, you guys didn't talk?”
You frustratedly throw your arms around and stomp your foot. “What am I supposed to talk about to a half naked guy in my trailer? Laura, use your fucking brain.” 
You turn around and the stranger is now sitting on the couch. You ignore him, turning back to Laura. “Is he my new manager or something? Laura, who the fuck is this?”
“Drew Starkey. You honestly don’t remember him?”
“Am I suppose to?” You reply, reaching for the pack of cigarettes, hoping to bring it with you to set. But ‘Drew’ stops you, his hand, which is surprisingly very warm, wraps around your wrist to stop you. You glare at him, telling him with your eyes to get his hands off you. But he doesn’t. So you verbally express it to him. “Get your fucking hand off me or I’ll chop it off for you.”
“You can’t even walk in a straight line, Y/n.”
Annoyed, you yell, “Get your fucking hand off me."
He does, but he quickly grabs the pack out of your reach, stuffing it into his pocket. Wow. What a jackass. And who is he to care? To take away your stuff? You pray that he gets explosive diarrhea the whole day tomorrow. This asshole deserves it. 
“Whatever,” you say, walking over to the door of your trailer. And he’s right, because you trip over yourself on the way there. You laugh under your breath out of frustration and embarrassment, and turn back around, pointing at ‘Drew’ and looking at Laura. “Get this jackass out my trailer. I don’t care what he is, he better be out of my sight.”
You don’t even bother hearing what her response is, and you leave towards your set. Now, you’re in a worse mood than before. All thanks to the stranger named Drew.
——
Everyone knew you were a good actor. You’re one of the best. And to make it even more astonishing, you’re only 25 years old. Meaning, your acting could get better. But it’s already the best of the best. Maybe its your pure gift, or maybe because you’ve been doing this since you were 13. Either way, you were a fucking good actor. 
The director specifically appointed you to star in his film, which is about the world coming to an end. Director Ravens was quite famous in showbiz, so who were you to decline? Besides, your co-star was Hugh Jackman, a brilliant actor, who you've also grown to admire while filming. 
Your character was a girl in her twenties, who had fallen in love with a stranger despite knowing that the world was getting destroyed within a week. A tragic love story, yet it was beautiful. 
This scene, is your solo one. Your character finds out her brother is dead, and cries with feelings of sadness, regret, and happiness. It’s a scene that would be hard to portray, but you do it well. 
Although you were almost three hours late to set, you make up for it with your acting. One take and the director informs you that it's perfect. And no one disagrees, and the complaints about your tardiness disappears, once they rewatch the scene. You must still be tipsy, because you swear you saw some of the staff shed a tear. 
You don’t offer to watch or reshot the scene, since you wanted to be out of here as soon as possible. But director Ravens insists on another one, hoping to get it from another angle. And you do as he pleases, since, well, he’s the director. 
Wow. One of the most important scenes in the movie only took you twenty minutes to film. 
Director Ravens gives you a break before the next scene, and you walk off before he wants to give you compliments. You didn’t need to hear what you already knew. 
But as you walk over to your seat, someone already occupies it. Drew. 
“You’re still here?” You scoff, crossing your arms. 
You want to rip his blue eyes out to get him to stop staring at you. Why does he like to stare at you so much? 
He pulls a random chair close to him, perhaps wanting you to sit. “Wow. So you can remember faces.”
“Yeah, if they’re as ugly as you,” you lie, because, his face is so damn attractive, that you can’t forget it even if you wanted to. You sit down on the chair, looking ahead of you. “I thought I said I want you out of my sight?”
“You can’t decide that,” he replies. “Who are you to order me around?”
“And who are you to sit in my chair? If anything, you should be kissing my ass right now.”
“Why should I?”
“You’re seriously asking me that?” You scoff. “Look around; that’s what everyone else is doing.”
On cue, a staff member hands you a bottle of water, and you take it without saying thanks. 
“And they’re fucking idiots,” Drew says, and you turn to look at him. He’s still staring at you! Crazy. 
“Shut up. As if you didn’t enjoy the show,” you say, referring to your acting just then.
“I did.”
You scrunch your nose in disgust, “good thing you’re not an actor. You’re horrible at lying.”
“I am.”
‘’What? A liar?”
“No; I’m an actor.”
The fuck? Suddenly, a different staff member interrupts the conversation, a girl holding her phone out to the both of you.
“Can I take a selfie with you?” She shyly asks. 
Of course it’s directed to you, so you simply reject her. “Sorry, but-“
“Yeah, sure.”
Your jaw is probably on the floor right now. The girl wasn’t asking you; she was asking Drew. He stands up and takes a selfie with her, and then hugs her goodbye. 
So… he’s famous? No way, because you’ve never heard of him you entire life. Probably a newbie that got famous by luck. 
You look away from him once he sits down, embarrassed to even face him. You just thought he was some staff member that the company had assigned to serve you. But he’s actually an actor? 
“You were saying?” His deep voice interrupts your thoughts, and you feel your ears go red. Holy shit. You need a smoke real bad right now. Fuck that, you need some liquor in you right this instant. 
Director Ravens saves you, yelling that its time for the next scene. So, you hurry and throw the water bottle at Drew, who catches it as though he’s not surprised at all. 
And he smirks, lifting his hat a bit as if to get a better look up at you. “What’s this for?”
Flustered, you walk off without another look back, partly embarrassed and angry. And you busy yourself with getting into the emotions of the character, and soon, Drew is forgotten as if he never existed. 
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word count: 2.3k
ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: so...what's your impression of y/n so far?
hope you enjoyed chapter one, i had a blast writing this...although, chapter four was the funniest one yet. btw, i am not joking when i wrote slow burn in the warnings, so pls be patient! and i setted this story to start in february, to match the time of real life events. other than that, rest are fictional!
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hinacu-arts · 3 days
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I had to cut yet another scene from one of my morpherine week/ @morpherine-events fics so im posting it here
Day 7: Free Day -> Crossover with Deadpool & Wolverine
Logan dragged them into his room and pushed Morph towards the bathroom, the bright white light turning on. He stood in the doorway, blocking their escape. Logan crossed his arms and stared at Morph like he was waiting.
"What?"
Logan gestured at them, "Take a shower."
Morph was confused, "I have a shower in my own room."
"Your room is too far."
Morph stared at Logan. He was really being this ridiculous over some clothes.
"What am I going to wear? All my clothes are in my room."
"You can borrow mine. Now strip."
Was Logan being serious? "Like right now?"
"Yes."
"Do you plan on watching me during this whole process?"
Some clarity seemed to come over Logan then, and he looked guilty.
"How about this, you go to my room and get me some of my clothes to wear. While you're doing that, I'll take a shower here."
Logan didn't seem happy at that suggestion. Whether it was the fact Morph would be in their own clothes or because he wouldn't be able to watch Morph shower, they didn't know.
Morph gently pushed Logan out of the bathroom and shut the door. Then locked it for good measure.
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Morph grabbed the soap and wondered if the reason Logan wanted them to shower here was so they'd smell like Logan. That was most definitely why Logan wanted them in his clothes, according to Laura and Wade. Something about claiming and marking that made their Logan unconvincingly deny it and leave the room.
Logan came back while Morph was still in the shower, and broke the lock on the door to get in.
"Logan!"
"Relax, I'm just here to burn those clothes," Morph watched the shadow of Logan through the shower curtain swipe Other-Logan's clothes, sniff them, and growl.
"Make sure you do a decontamination clean."
Logan stalked out of the bathroom but left the door open.
-----------------------------------------------
Morph stepped out of the shower. Logan was upon them immediately, sniffing as he circled Morph, who felt very exposed in just a towel.
Logan sent them back in for a second shower.
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Logan had opened the bathroom door again, and this time Morph saw him rubbing his face on a shirt.
"Can I get dressed now?"
Logan dropped the shirt and came over to do another sniff check. He walked away and threw Morph's clothes at them. Morph noticed the shirt Logan was rubbing on was included.
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coweye · 2 months
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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+
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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.”
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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.
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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.
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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?”
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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 💕
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imagine logan seeing you again
logan x reader
warning: some deadpool x wolverine spoilers. this takes place after the movie. under 1k words.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
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The apartment was packed jammed with friends and some foes of Wade Wilson. There might have been music playing in the background, but Logan couldn’t tell when his eyes locked with the figure walking through the front door. His heart dropped, he felt sick to his stomach as his eyes fluttered. It had to be a dream but then he quickly came to his senses.
This wasn’t his universe, his world. He was somewhere entirely new. He caught his breath as Wade shouted out an exclamation of joy. Logan watched as he drew up from his seat to greet you with an overzealous hug, pulling you toward the group at the table.  Wade held you rough by the shoulders and grinned. “Look who decided to come out of retirement, conveniently after we,” he pointed to Logan then himself. “Saved the fucking world. Avengers, who? Bunch of assholes, if you ask me.”
“You sound like a man scorn, Wade,” you teased, offering a wave of a hand to your friends. The idiot next to you was right, the whole superhero thing had been a thing of the past. You have been a regular civilian for a few years now and have been loving a more relaxed existence – not being threatened daily was like, nice. “Don’t worry, you’ll see all the details in the movie. Have you meant my little angry beaver, the Wolverine?”
Your head jerked to where the older gentlemen was sitting, and you grinned. “I haven’t had the pleasure. I never met this world’s Logan – we ran in different circles. It’s nice to meet you.”
His heart relaxed and he confidently held out a hand, ignoring the interested glance from Laura. “Nice to meet you.”
“Take a seat next to Logan,” Wade urged, winking over to his new hesitant partner. “I’m sure he can fill you in on all the fun we’ve had together. Tell her about the sex ramp we had in the car that one time.”
“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” Logan cursed, telling you to ignore him.
“I usually do,” you laughed, thanking Vanessa for the beer she slid over from her side of the table. Popping it open, you relaxed and asked Logan how this place was treating him. “Must be weird, coming here. It’s like your world, right? Just slightly different?”
“Something like that.”
“Did we know each other back there?”
Your question seemed so invasive and frank – it almost made Logan smile because some people never changed, no matter what universe. Back where he came from, you were such a firecracker little shit. He had his hands full dealing with your bullshit. You were always running towards danger with little regard for your own safety because you had him. He had always been at your side, or at least, trying to catch up but he had always been there for you.
Logan had loved you and you had loved him.
Two reckless mutants.
Then you died and that sent him straight down a barrel of alcohol and indifference, to everyone and everything in his world. Which led to his greatest shame of all, allowing his family to be murdered because he was too busy drinking his sorrows away. He had long forgotten what it felt like to see you smile or hear you laugh, to feel your fingertips on his skin. The weight of your head on his chest as you slept, he never could replicate that feeling and yet, here you were.
A different version of you but God, the same.
“We were friends, really good friends.”
The hint of sadness in his voice was enough for you to understand and maybe not truly, but something had happened. That much was evident and while it might have been silly, you wanted nothing more than to comfort this man next to you. The room seemed to fall quiet, but no one was paying attention, except the girl next to Logan. Your eyes met hers, but she just smiled and looked away. Logan’s eyes were focused on the beer in his hands, but his eyes jerked up when a gentle hand touched the top of his. Your skin ablaze his and it felt wrong to feel like he had once when he didn’t even know you. Not this version of you, a woman he knew nothing about. It didn’t feel right but he wanted nothing more to allow this to go on. To see who you were in this world.
Did he deserve that? After everything that happened.
“Were? I won’t pry but it seems like life has given you a second chance, Logan.” You smiled softly and removed your hand from his, lifting your beer can to him. “You guys saved this world; a second chance is the least the universe can give you. Why not take it?”
Logan chuckled lowly. “The version of you I knew also had a deficiency in reasoning.”
A hard smack landed on his chest, and he laughed, which made you laugh. “Yeah, well, at least I don’t look like that idiot.”
Looking over to where you pointed to Wade, who had decided to show off his hair piece, Logan smirked. “Yeah, that’s fucking terrible.”
The two of you smiled at each other and something clicked in that moment, leaving the both of you quiet until you broke the tension. “To not looking like Wade Wilson.”
Logan clicked his beer against yours and felt a settling in his heart. Maybe he did deserve a second chance, at least, he could start toward earning that second chance. “Amen to that.”
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celestiamour · 2 months
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‧₊˚✧ ❛[ it's a gift (you keep those) ]❜
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ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel
╰₊✧ giving him a plushie that reminded you of him┊1k words
setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: fluff, crushes, probably ooc but he’s so cute & wade is hard to write for, written for dp&w logan so idk if he got gifts in xmen, i forgot about laura, they are in touch and have a wonderful father-daughter relationship, i’m so sorry, edited
➤ author's note: i have so many thoughts but too incompetent to write
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logan’s never sure who will appear when he opens the door as wade’s quite the extrovert, either vanessa or one of his many other friends whom he’s now become somewhat acquainted with, but he certainly wasn’t expecting to meet the familiar eyes of the cute neighbor who lived a few doors down. he nervously scratched the back of his head, suddenly becoming aware of his shabby appearance, “uh, are you looking for wade?”
“no, i was actually looking for you!” god, your smile is so bright, it’s blinding. he normally hates perfume of any sort as it’s so overpowering to his heightened senses, but the one that you wore smelled so lovely like always. is that a new shade of lip gloss you’re wearing? it really suits you. (why on earth is he noticing all of these details out of the blue? he needs to snap out of whatever spell you put on him after being introduced when he first showed up and only interacting in passing since then).
“looking for me?” he repeated, in disbelief, trying his best not to allow his surprise to slip into his voice. considering he isn’t from this dimension and not the most agreeable person to be around, he had no friends of his own yet and hasn’t been visited by anyone since he got here. a beat of panic struck him, thinking that he was in trouble for something and you came to complain. he really couldn’t think of any other reason you were here for him even though you were so cheerful.
you were carrying some shopping bags with you, dropping them on the ground before reaching into one and pulling out a large fuzzy plushie of a gray cat hidden under layers of glittery tissue paper, “i saw this cutie when i went shopping with my friends and thought it looked like you!” you held it out for him to take, looking so proud of the stuffed animal.
he hesitated for a second before accepting it, trying to take in the fact that you were reminded of him in your day-to-day life. it made his heart flutter, and he found himself dumbfounded by the feeling. he was frequently teased by his roomate about his little “crush” on you, claiming that it was oh so obvious and that the sooner he accepted it, the better, but he never realized until now how pathetic he was when it came to you. was the wolverine really getting butterflies like a fucking schoolgirl in his old-ass age? thank god no one was home right now to bully him about it, he would never hear the end of it.
“it does not look like me,” he scoffed playfully after a quick examination.
“no, it definitely does! it’s a big, grumpy kitty—” you took a step closer to hold it with him, pointing at all the similarities you observed, although it was clear you were exaggerating for laughs. “see the little frowny face and ears? it could be your identical twin separated from birth! willy mentioned that you act like a cat most of the time, and i think it fits perfectly!”
the smile he didn’t realize was plastered on his face faltered at the last piece of information, grateful that you didn’t notice. that idiot has been talking about him to you? he might as well forget about any chance of getting with you, because knowing how he yaps without a filter and loves to play matchmaker, you probably think he’s a freak of some sort. “only good things, i hope…”
you giggled, the sweetest sound he ever heard. “of course, he’s really fond of you… well, maybe a bit too fond, but you already know about that!” you opened your mouth to continue the conversation or say something else, but your phone started ringing and you excused yourself, looking a little shy as you grabbed up your bags. “i’ll talk to you later!” you sounded so excited about the prospect of it before leaving, your voice and footsteps becoming fainter as you walked back to your place.
“wait, you didn’t take back the cat—”
“it’s a gift! you keep those!”
“oh… right…”
he lingered for a moment, unable to say much in response since you left in such a rush. when was the last time someone gave him a present? staring at this brand new item, he still couldn’t see the resemblance in any way, but knowing that it was a gift from you gave him a rare feeling of happiness which returned every time he looked at it from then on among his few possessions. 
“oh my goodness, what is this adorable thing?!” wade exclaimed when he saw it sitting on the couch where logan slept, picking it up to gawk at before tossing it up in the air and catching it before it hit the floor. “ooh, let me guess, it’s a gift from her, isn’t it?” 
the mutant groaned at his mocking tone. “put it down before you ruin it with your grubby hands,” he commanded, snatching it from his grasp (rough enough to make his point clear, but carefully enough not to tear it apart). his roommate didn’t even bother pretending to be offended like he usually would as he was simply overjoyed that his “ship” was coming true. “it doesn’t mean anything, don’t make it weird.”
“it doesn’t mean anything?! how can you say that when it’s going to be the first gift you give to your first child together—”
“first what??”
“nevermind, what are you gonna name it?”
“i have to name it?”
“have you never owned a stuffed animal before? you have to name it! how heartbroken is she going to be when she asks what you named it and you say that you haven’t done that?! she’s gonna think that you don’t value her gifts!” you would think the world was going to end if he didn’t do so if you heard the way he was speaking.
“fine, i’ll name it…” he looked deeply into the toy’s soulless eyes, noting how soft the outer material was against his calloused hand, “... fluffy…”
“that’s such a shitty name—”
“shut the fuck up, it’s been decided.”
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thinkinonsense · 1 month
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I KNEW YOU IN ANOTHER LIFEᰔ
dp&w!logan howlett x past wife!reader
cw: mostly angst, some fluff, sorta mean logan, cussing.
wc: 800+
a/n: this is inspired by a one-shot I read a while back but I cannot remember who wrote it. If anyone knows, please please please let me know in the comments so I can give them credit <3 update!!! this is it!!
。 ₊°༺❤︎༻°₊ 。
The last person you thought you would find here in the void is Logan. There has never been a Wolverine in here. You almost didn't believe it when you found out; needing to see him for yourself. And here he was. Right in front of you, the Logan you grieved all those years ago. The one who stole your heart.
Your Logan.
"And who the fuck are you?" He barked, pushing you away from him.
Those words broke your heart the second they left his lips.
Wade smacks Logan, informing him of your past together. Logan looked like he didn't believe Wade at first. You were way too beautiful for any version of him, Logan thought. What would someone like you want with a man like him?
Tears well up in your eyes as you leave, not wanting it to sting anymore. Laura follows you, glaring at the man who looked like her father. Logan didn't seem to care about the new information, instead reaching for another one of Gambit's bottles.
"I'm sorry, mom," Laura whispers, wrapping her arms around you.
"It's okay, sweetie. I'm not sure what I expected to happen." You sniffle. "He just looks so much like him."
"I know."
Suddenly, Laura stood up and stomped out the door to confront the man who upset her mother. She found Logan sitting outside alone by the fire.
"Look kid, I'm not the man you and your mother think I am." Logan sighs, not even bothering to turn around to check if it's Laura.
"You made her cry," Laura hissed, ignoring his previous comment. Logan looked up at the young girl almost apologetically before shaking his head. "Her Logan would have never made her cry."
Logan felt a sharpness in his stomach at the news. Deep down, he wondered if you two were together at some point. He doubted it though because you looked out of his league. If a past version of him managed to marry you then maybe he did some good during his time.
"If you two haven't noticed, I'm the worst Logan apparently."
"You don't have to be."
It's late when you finally stumble out of bed, not able to sleep. Hours of tossing and turning, trying to get Logan out of your mind. This felt like a cruel joke on your poor heart. You know it's unfair to have him pretend to be your Logan but you desperately wanted it to be him.
All of your memories together haunt your mind like a graveyard. Sweet Sundays spent wrapped in sheets. How he kissed your face every morning, had you wear his dog tags, and ride on the back of his motorcycle. You would give anything to get just one of those moments back.
"What are you doin' awake?"
The voice behind you caused you to jump slightly. A hand coming to rest on your back. You turn around, face-to-face with Logan.
"Can't sleep." You shrugged, opening the freezer to pull out a container of strawberry ice cream.
"That shit won't help you sleep." He grunts, sitting at the table. You ignore his grumpiness and continue scooping the ice cream into a bowl.
"Can we talk?" Logan didn't look you in the eyes as he spoke. Too ashamed of his actions earlier.
"I suppose so." You shrugged, pulling the spoon from between your lips.
"Were we really married?"
You answer by pulling the chain around your neck for him to see. A small diamond ring dangled next to the dog tags he gave you. The moment he saw it, he felt like the biggest asshole who ever lived.
"How many years?" The words stung in his throat.
"Five."
"What was our life like?"
"Perfect." You smile softly down at your bowl. "At least it was to me."
"You did a good job with raising her." He muttered, referring to Laura.
"You would have to."
He's silent for a second, trying to wrap his mind around the idea of being a husband and a father. He wished he knew what it was like to be cared for as much as you cared for your Logan.
"You know, you have the same look in your eyes," Your voice was so quiet, stepping closer to him until you were in front of him.
Logan could see the desperation on your face as you stared at his lips. It would be wrong for him to toy with your widowed heart, but he wanted to be the man you needed. The man you deserved.
"I'm not him, sweetheart," He said, attempting to stop you before you hurt yourself. "And I don't want you to get hurt-"
"Please," You beg, eyes filling up with tears. "I don't care who you are. I just don't want it to hurt anymore."
You were slowly killing him. How could he say no to you? Even if he was the worst Logan, he has a heart. Which is why he lets you close the gap between the two of you. His hands are tangled in your hair while one of yours rests on his jaw before climbing into his lap.
For the first time in years, your heart began beating again. You and Logan could play pretend for now. Neither of you cared what would happen tomorrow, right now was all that mattered.
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imastoryteller · 2 months
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Write Like a Director: Crafting a Cinematic Novel (With Examples)
Writing a novel like a movie means propelling your reader through scenes with relentless momentum, slashing through fluff, and ensuring each word drives the plot forward. Trust your readers to connect the dots through dialogue and action, immersing them in vivid, immediate experiences without drowning them in verbose descriptions. Every chapter should feel like a high-octane scene, keeping readers on the edge of their seats, hungry for the next twist, the next revelation. Keep it tight, keep it thrilling. Here are some examples to illustrate each aspect of this dynamic storytelling approach:
Fast Pacing
Chase Through the Alley: Jake sprinted down the narrow alley, the thud of heavy boots echoing behind him. A sharp left, then a right—no time to think, just run. This example thrusts the reader directly into a high-speed chase, emphasizing immediate action and urgency.
Heist in Progress: The vault door creaked open. "Thirty seconds," Maria whispered, stuffing bonds into her bag. The alarm blared. "Move!" The scene conveys a sense of time running out and rapid movement, maintaining a brisk pace with no room for delays.
Dynamic, Fast-Going Plot
Kidnapping Twist: Laura opened her front door to find an empty stroller on her porch. A note inside read: "If you want to see her again, come alone." The unexpected discovery of a kidnapping sets up an immediate and compelling conflict, driving the plot forward swiftly.
Escape Plan: The prison lights flickered. "Now!" whispered Tom. They climbed through the hole, hearing guards’ shouts in the distance. The urgent breakout from prison keeps the plot dynamic and intense, with characters constantly on the move.
Show, Don't Tell
Fight in the Ring: Blood trickled down Max’s face. He clenched his fists, dodged a punch, and delivered a powerful uppercut that sent his opponent to the mat. The physicality and immediate consequences of the fight are shown through actions rather than explained through exposition.
Silent Farewell: Tears streamed down Lily’s cheeks as she handed Jack the letter. Without a word, he turned and walked away, his shoulders slumped. The emotional impact of the farewell is conveyed through the characters' actions and expressions, not through internal monologue or narrative explanation.
No Tedious Descriptions
Quick Change: Sam grabbed the nearest shirt and jeans, pulling them on as he ran out the door, glancing at the clock—he had five minutes to reach the station. The scene moves quickly from one action to the next, providing only essential details to maintain momentum.
Sudden Revelation: In the dim light, Sophie saw the glint of a ring on the thief’s finger. Her father's ring. She gasped, stepping back. The revelation is made through a brief visual detail, keeping the description succinct and impactful.
No Infodump
Mid-Battle Realization: Amidst the chaos, Sarah recognized the tattoo on the enemy soldier’s arm. Her brother. She hesitated, the war raging around her. The revelation about the brother is integrated into the action, avoiding lengthy explanations and keeping the focus on the immediate situation.
Urgent Discovery: Ethan flipped through the ancient book, stopping at a page with a familiar symbol. "It's the same as the pendant," he muttered, pocketing the book and running out. The discovery is brief and directly tied to the plot's urgency, with no extensive background information provided.
Avoid Fluff
Straight to Action: Ben didn’t bother with pleasantries. “We’re out of time,” he said, throwing the bag into the car. “Get in.” The scene cuts straight to the critical moment, avoiding unnecessary dialogue or description.
No Idle Chatter: Emma answered the phone, cutting off the caller's introduction. “What’s the plan?” she demanded, glancing at the clock. The character immediately seeks vital information, eliminating small talk and focusing on the plot's progression.
Tight, Immersive Narrative
Immediate Danger: As the elevator doors slid open, Mark saw the bomb timer: 00:10. He dived for the wires, heart pounding. The imminent threat and the character's swift reaction immerse the reader in the tension of the moment.
Critical Decision: The bridge was collapsing. Anna had seconds to decide—jump or try to save her friends. She took a deep breath and ran back. The character's quick decision-making in a life-or-death situation keeps the narrative focused and engaging.
By applying these principles, you can craft a novel that feels as dynamic and engaging as a blockbuster movie, keeping your readers hooked from the first page to the last.
---
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eccentricwritingbaby · 3 months
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family ties
lewis hamilton x reader
summary - lewis and y/n have been going out for about half a year and he can tell she’s hiding something, or somebody. her son, a little five year old boy that lewis so desperately wants to meet. but is y/n ready for that next step?
masterlist
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it was a stormy london night, one that you so desperately wanted to stay in during, however you had gotten a call earlier that contradicted your feelings. lewis had informed you that he had a   standing reservation at a fine restaurant in the city and he was eager to take you to it tonight. so here you were, slipping into a tasteful and beautiful black dress along with your heels, getting ready for your perfect man. everything was perfect. except for one little hidden detail. your son. 
lewis knew you were withholding some sort of information from him, he just didn’t know the extent. he wanted you to tell him when you were ready, but he wasn’t sure of the seriousness with the situation. were you cheating on him? planning on leaving him? had a different identity? using him for his fame? he had no idea. and he was planning this nice outing tonight to finally get to the bottom of it. 
“alright, he’s got everything he needs. just call me if anything happens,” you speak to your ex-boyfriend, alex, the father of your son as he drops by in order to pick dominic up for his weekend with him.
“y/n, we’ve been doing this for four years. i know the drill. you don’t have to worry about dom, i’ve got him,” alex says to you as he begins to leave. 
“i know i know, i’m sorry. just a little paranoid, you know how it is,” you laugh off towards him as you both begin to walk out the door. 
“i understand. i feel the same when he’s here,” alex shrugs as he begins to walk to his car, dominic already jumping by the door of it, excited to have his dad for the weekend, “have fun on your date tonight with the superstar,”
“oh shut up,” you laugh off to alex, “you know he’s not like that,”
“i know, i’m happy for you. just be careful with dom,”
“i already told you i wouldn’t introduce him until i talked to you,” you say to him, “and we haven’t had that talk yet, huh?”
“hey i’m not saying you can’t introduce him,” alex says to you, now getting into the drivers seat, “i’m just saying after my mistake with letting him get close to laura,” he trails off with an eye roll as you both laugh about the disaster. alex had let your son meet his girlfriend of a few months and they had hit it off, but it ended as quickly as it started once she left him. leaving dom in the dust as he cried more than alex about the breakup, “just be careful,” alex reiterates. 
“i will be,” you smile at the two boys in the car, waving goodbye to them as they pull out of your driveway and into their weekend of fun. running back into the house, you finish touching up your makeup and hair, adding your jewelry, and layering your perfume before your doorbell rings. you exhale a sigh of relief, ready for a night of no stress and fun - a given when going out with lewis. 
“hey, you,” you smile as you open the door, leading lewis into your home. 
“you look beautiful, y/n,” he breathes out, his hands itching for your waist in order to bring you closer, “the reservation is for about seven thirty so we’ve got to get going,” you lean in closer to him, grabbing your purse off the hook and leading him out the door.
“you’re right,” you peck his lips quickly, locking up your house behind you, “can’t let sir lewis hamilton get a bad reputation of being late,”
“exactly,” he chuckles at your joke and yet his hands find your waist again, “but a few minutes can’t hurt,” and just like that, lewis spins you around to face him, bringing your lips to his yet again. once separated, you move gently past him to his car.
“are you coming or what?” you ask with a laugh, swaying towards his car as he admires the way you depart.
“oh i’m coming,” he sighs out, relishing in the way you walk and the way you look. 
-
once seated at dinner, lewis was shaking in his seat wondering how he’d bring up your hidden actions. he had no proof and no sense to ruin what seemed to be your perfect night. you had been bubbly and upbeat the whole time, looking gorgeous and over the moon happy with seeing him. surely the thing you were being sketchy about couldn’t hurt him? right?
“look, y/n, there’s something i’ve been meaning to talk to you about,” lewis calmly puts into conversation as you begin to sip on the drink you had ordered. 
“of course, what’s going on?” you ask him, assuming he would just bring up another weekend of travel or something along those lines. 
“you’re clearly hiding something from me, y/n. and i want to know what it is,”
“lewis-” you try to cut in with an exasperated sigh, but instead he stops you, continuing his rambling.
“listen i know it’s only been a few months of us going out but-”
“lewis,” you try again, but his head was spinning and there was no way of stopping his mouth.
“if you’re cheating on me just say so, we can figure things out or-”
“LEWIS” you raise your voice loud enough to get his attention, without spooking the other diners around you, “i am not cheating on you,” you roughly say in his direction, your eyes not leaving the meal in front of you.
“then what is it,” he pushes, urging you to uncover your secret.
“it’s nothing like that,”
“can you look at me,” he directs, holding his hand out and taking yours with it, “please?” you look up at him, and all your strength dissipates within seconds. 
“it’s not what you think,” you start, lacing your fingers with his to have some sort of grounding, “it is serious and that’s why i didn’t tell you,” his eyes stare back at you with comfort, pleading for you to continue without pushing you into uncomfort, “i-i”
“if it’s too much, y/n, you don’t have to tell me,”
“i want to tell you, i just don’t know how you’ll feel about me afterwards,”
“no matter what it is, i’m sure i’ll feel the same,”
“i have a son,”
“oh,” lewis retracts a bit, but not much, “how old?”
“he’s five, his name is dominic,” you go on. 
“and his dad?”
“he’s around, he’s a good dad, just not a good boyfriend,” you laugh a little at your joke and keep going, “dom was an oopsie at the time, but since i had him he’s been a blessing. alex - that’s his dad’s name - he is a great dad. we just figured we were better friends. there was no real connection, we thought it would be better for dom if we were great co-parents rather than bad ‘together’ parents, so we split four years ago,”
“can i meet him?” lewis asks with a hopeful expression.
“dom?”
“yeah, i want to meet your son. i want to meet everyone important in your life, and that obviously includes him,”
“i don’t know, the reason it took so long for me to tell you was because i don’t want him to get too attached to someone who may leave, he’s at an age where consistency matters,”
“i am consistent, y/n. if you want me, i’m here forever. i promise that,” lewis oozes sincerity as he looks you in your eyes, giving you the reassurance needed to confirm what you already wanted.
“alright,” you sigh into your glass of wine, “you can meet him,” lewis lets out a quiet cheer of triumph across from you and you giggle at his antics, “but i must warn you,”
“what? anything, i’m ready,”
“he’s a redbull fan,”
“oh no, now that’ll have to change,”
-
“thank you for dropping him off,” you let out a breath of relief to alex as dom comes running into your home. 
“you’re welcome, it was no problem, truly,” he says to you as he hands you your sons bag, “how’d your superstar date go?”
“he wants to meet dom,”
“oh?” alex shoots you a surprised look, “and are you going to let that happen?”
“i think so,” you shrug off, “i think it’s time,”
“good for you,” alex shoulder bumps you a little as he continues, “you deserve this, y/n. and from what you’ve told me about him, i’m sure it will all work out,”
“yeah i hope so, he’s going to come over later if that’s okay with you?”
“my son meeting sir lewis hamilton,” alex states as he begins to walk out the door, “that is more than okay with me,” 
-
“dom? i need to talk to you about something,” you approach your five year old as he is playing in the living room with his toys. 
“what mommy?” he questions without looking up, the toys in front of him grabbing his interest.
“someone wants to meet you,” you start with caution, “and he’s coming over in a minute,”
“who?”
“well…” you ponder off, not exactly knowing the right words to piece together, “he’s mommy’s special friend,”
“like laura with daddy?”
“yes!” you cheer out quickly, excited that he grasped the concept easily, “he’s like how laura was to daddy,”
“okay,” dom lets out, “is he nice?”
“yes, love,” you nod your head for the emphasis as your son gazes up at you, “he’s very nice,”
just as you finish your thought, the doorbell to your home echoes and you and dom share a look. 
“best behavior, dom,” you warn with a pointed finger as he just giggles in your direction. getting up to go and get the door, your little boy trails behind you with a bit of excitement. 
“hi, lewis,” you greet your boyfriend as you open the door, “come on in,”
“thank you,” he chimes in, clearly hiding something behind him, “and who is this?” he asks in the direction of your legs. with that, dom comes out of his hiding place behind you in order to greet him. 
“i’m dominic,” he squeaks out shyly. lewis proceeds to get down to his knees, holding one hand still behind his back and the other out in front of him for a handshake. 
“i’m lewis, it’s nice to meet you dominic,” 
“i know who you are,” dom quietly says back while shaking his hand, still shy towards the new man in front of him. 
“oh you do?” your boyfriend questions back.
“you drive for mercedes,”
“yes i do,” lewis smiles at him, sneaking a glance in your direction as you can’t help but blush at the scene in front of you, “are you a formula one fan?”
“yes,” dom giggles, “but i like checo,”
“oh man,” lewis shakes his head a bit, “then this gift is going to go to waste,”
dom’s ears perk up at that, eyes widening as he asks with enthusiasm, “what gift?” lewis laughs a bit at the question and finally pulls his other arm from behind his back to reveal a bag. 
“why don’t we move to the couch to open it?” you put into the room, encouraging the boys to relax a bit as you gesture towards your living room. they do as you ask, moving towards the living room and perching onto the couch. you take a seat next to your son as lewis sits across from him and you on the coffee table. handing dom the bag, he begins to unwrap and look into it, finally seeing the very small and adorable hamilton mercedes jersey. 
“I LOVE IT,” your son cries out, jumping off the couch and crashing into lewis’ awaited hold. as he hugs your son, you can only smile as this night had gone better than you’d hoped. 
‘thank you’ you mouth towards lewis, who only laughs and smiles in your direction, hugging your son closer to his body. everything would be fine. lewis was ready for forever with you. and you had just seen your forever fully accept him into your lives. 
-
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disneyprincemuke · 8 months
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who the hell is rocky? * fem!driver
who the hell does sebastian keep calling 'rocky'?
pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, max verstappen x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver
notes: here ok now she has a nICKNAME OK IT'S ROCKY IT'S ROCKY OK BECAUSE SHE LIKES ROCKY ROAD ICE CREAM NOW
(series masterlist)
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she presses her lips together, turning the knob and peeking in. “seb,” she whispers into the room. “are you in here?”
sebastian raises an eyebrow, tilting his head. “yeah, why?”
“great, so i wouldn’t feel as bad sneaking in here.” she pushes the door open and quickly shuts the door behind her. she beams at him, shoving her hands into her jacket. “hi!”
he looks up at her, head still hung low from the papers he was looking at. “what do you want?”
“oh, we’re playing hide and seek with jack and laura,” she grins, walking over to the empty seat at the his table. she sits down and tucks her legs under her body. “and oscar, logan, mick… liam… i’m not in the mood to be found so soon.”
“so you’re hiding here? in my office?” sebastian raises an eyebrow, looking back down at his papers. “isn’t that cheating?”
“they didn’t specify where i couldn’t hide.” she puts her palms down against his table with a small grin. she extends her neck a little bit. “what are you doing?”
he flips the papers towards his body, shielding its contents away from her. “i’m looking at data. you’re not a cheater — go play hide and seek properly.”
she shrugs nonchalantly. “i’m the oldest child. of course, i bend the rules to make sure i win.”
“really? oscar and logan let you do that growing up while they were around?”
“no, they put a stop to that when i turned 14,” she presses her lips together and rolls her eyes, shaking her head. “but they can’t erase that trait when i spent my whole life polishing it.”
sebastian blinks. “seriously?”
“yeah,” she nods excitedly. “how do you think i got this scar above my brow?”
“from falling down.”
“no, ciara and i fought cause i changed the rules at the last second so that i’d win and then she attacked me.” she lets a moment pass when sebastian finally lifts his head to stare at her. “we were playing uno — it’s a very intense game.”
he furrows his eyebrows. “get out of my office, rocky!”
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sebastian approaches the two hunched over in the corner. “have you guys seen rocky?”
logan lifts his head. “rocky? who the hell is that?”
“hey, what are you guys doing?” they turn around, seeing the younger driver with an ice cream pint in her hand with mick trailing behind her.
“i told you to stop eating ice cream, god damn it!” sebastian screams, hands darting forward to grab the pint from her.
“hey, it’s the lactose intolerant one!” she shrieks, running to hide behind mick. the pint pokes out of the side towards logan. “want some?”
logan nods, taking the pint from her. “yeah, sure.”
“wait,” oscar speaks up, waving his arms in the air. “seriously, who is rocky?”
“this dumb ass,” sebastian scoffs, gesturing at the girl now eating her ice cream again. “all she ever eats is rocky road! hence, rocky! breakfast is rocky road, lunch is rocky road—”
“dinner is rocky road,” she mocks, stabbing her spoon into her pint. “it’s okay that i’m eating this because mick got me the no milk version!”
“that doesn’t even make sense! chocolate has milk in it! so does ice cream! do you know what ice cream is made out of?”
mick sighs. “she wouldn’t stop bugging me for ice cream, okay?”
logan laughs, throwing his head back. he clasps his hands together, “tomorrow we’ll teach you how to say ‘no’ to rocky. it took us a long time to figure it out too.”
“really? that’s just what everyone is gonna call me now?” she tilts her head, shoving a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. “we spend our whole lives without giving me a nickname and seb just comes along and calls me ‘rocky’ and everyone is just gonna ride along with that?”
“yeah, you can say that,” oscar nods with a smile. “it’s fitting, anyway. you would die for rocky road ice cream… right?”
“fair argument.”
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“max,” oscar whispers. “have you seen rocky?”
max raises an eyebrow, pausing his conversation with charles. he tilts his head. “yeah, she’s in my garage.”
oscar throws his head back, blinking blankly at the older driver. “what would rocky be doing in your garage?”
“what do you mean? she’s part of my team,” max trails off in confusion, lips pursed in confusion. he glances at charles next to him, who simply shrugs and looks at oscar as well.
“no, she’s not. what business would she have being in your garage?” oscar raises an eyebrow. “unless you guys are scouting her for the future?”
“what? we’ve had rocky on the team for months.”
“she wouldn’t do that. she doesn’t like red bull.”
“red bull literally created her.”
“no they didn’t.”
charles furrows his eyebrows, looking between both of them. “see, i don’t think you guys are talking about the same thing.”
max points at oscar. “what are you talking about?”
“who are you talking about?”
“my race car? her name is rocky.”
oscar’s frustration slowly washes away as realisation dawns over him. he’d completely forgotten that max named his car. he laughs slightly. “right! sorry, mate. i was talking about (y/n),” he explains. “rocky.”
max raises an eyebrow. “who passed the bill to call her that?”
“seb.”
“oh, seb is good with nicknames!” charles beams, patting oscar’s shoulder. he presses his lips together. “why rocky though? that doesn’t really…”
“she eats a lot of rocky road ice cream,” oscar smiles. “therefore, the nickname.”
max frowns. “she’s got the same name as my car… that’s not… that will be confusing.”
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catalinaromanoff · 2 months
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overheated
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natasha romanoff x pyrokinetic reader
summary: reader accidentally burns natasha, which causes her to rethink their relationship and their life in general.
(there may be female pronouns scattered in here, but i am not 100% sure.)
warnings: insecurity, mentions of very very slight burn (just redness)
i rest my head on the cold kitchen countertop for a few moments, attempting to get just an ounce of relief from the heat surrounding me.
if you asked me in casual conversation i would say i don’t mind summer. it’s okay; i dont hate it. however, if you asked me on a personal level, i would say i absolutely despise summer. i hate the thought of wearing bikinis, all the bug bites i receive, but i hate the heat most of all. pyrokinetics and heat simply do not mix. ironic, isn’t it?
and so, i press my face harder into the kitchen countertop in the compound for just a bit of relief.
i was currently sitting at the kitchen island. the coolness of the marble surface did provide me with a bit of contrast to my heated skin, but it just wasn’t enough. on top of that it was agonizing listening to my teammates having the time of their lives outside in the compound’s backyard.
some were in the crystal clear water of the immensely big in-ground pool tony had installed while others played a casual game of volleyball.
how i envy them.
however, the people whom i envied the most were the couples outside able to cuddle and kiss each other. my heart breaks a little for my girlfriend when i see laura sitting on clint’s lap on one of the poolside tables knowing we could never do the same.
technically we could, but unfortunately this wasn’t the season to do so. during the winter season me and natasha could cuddle at any time and i would serve as her personal heater. the heat that would emanate from my body would be a nice contrast to the painful coldness of a new york winter.
however, when it’s already around 100 degrees and i am a pyrokinetic that sometimes freaks out and cannot control herself, that leads to accidents.
like this one.
i had banished myself to the kitchen countertop because me and natasha had tried to see if maybe my body temperature wouldn’t flare up like it always did. spoiler alert; it did. natasha had been sitting on my lap with her head in my neck. she began kissing my neck and that’s where i think things began to go downhill.
much of my pyrokinesis revolves around what i’m feeling at the current moment. once i felt natasha’s featherlight kisses on my neck i began to feel things. mostly shy. and so, i slowly began to heat up. eventually things escalated too quickly when natasha bit me. immediately my body became the temperature of the sun and natasha jumped up and away from me.
“ouch!”
i observed as she lightly rubbed her thighs trying to get at least a but of relief. just like i am now. anyway, i could do nothing but watch her knowing i caused this but couldn’t fix it.
“im-im so sorry baby. i’ll go inside. im sorry.”
i quickly get up from my place on the poolside chair, not without noticing the chair had begin to melt a little because of me. it made me feel that much worse.
natasha tried to stop me, but obviously she couldn’t do that much when i couldn’t be touched.
“y/n it’s okay, baby. i’m fine. please don’t go.”
i ignore the concerned expression in my beautiful girlfriend’s face and instead rush to the sliding door separating the big backyard from the avenger’s compound. i thank whoever left the door open in my head as i rush through and close the door behind me.
that brings me to where i am now. a tiny portion of white plastic on my hand from closing the sliding door and a big portion of embarrassment.
i continue to observe the other avengers outside and let out a deep breath.
do i really belong here?
i mean, most of the avengers out there avoid touching me. no handshakes, no hugs, no anything. i understand their fear and apprehension but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. a great deal of them were scared of me and that honestly made my heart break; i didn’t ask to be made this way, so why do i have to suffer the consequences?
the only people who really bothered in trying to get to know me and know when it’s okay to touch me are natasha, wanda, and bucky. they try to understand how my pyrokinesis works and how to prevent meltdowns (haha get it?) like this.
they’ll never truly understand though.
i see wanda talking to natasha and looking back inside at me. i realize almost immediately that she heard my thoughts. dang you, my sexy witch best friend. i see my girlfriend approach the door i had melted not more than 20 minutes ago and slide it open. she makes sure to close it behind her before she sits next to me at the kitchen island.
she looks stunning.
natasha was wearing a simple black bikini, but yet it complimented her so well. it complimented her beautifully sculpted body, her stunning scars scattered around her body, and it just looked right against her sun-kissed skin.
i wish i looked like her.
“hey, how are you feeling?”
i shrug my shoulders.
natasha’s lips form into a straight line on her face as she looks down at her hands. i take this moment to admire her gorgeous face. her cute freckles scattered across nearly every part of her face. that’s one of the things i didn’t mind about summer. nat’s freckles showed up and showed out during the summer.
i decide to speak up. “im sorry.”
nat’s head snaps up at the words of my timid apology.
“honey you have nothing to apologize for. i know that was an accident and i shouldn’t have pushed you that far.”
“no, about everything.”
natasha furrows her brows and her confusion slowly grows. she timidly inches her fingers toward my thigh. she checks my temperature to make sure she can touch me. im lukewarm. she puts her hand on my right thigh with her left hand. that gives me the courage i need to say the next words.
“im sorry for being such a bad girlfriend. i see how you look at other couples and their pda and stuff. you should just break up with me. i mean we can’t even have.. um.. sex without me freaking out and burning you. i just don’t think im lovable and im definitely holding you back from having your dream relationship. maybe you should try dating banner. i hate his guts but you’ll probably be happier with him than you’ll ever be with me.”
an uncomfortable silence fills the room. i bring my arms up on the countertop and stuff my face into them.
we both breathe in the silence for a while. i know natasha doesn’t know what say; i mean what can she say? that everything will be alright? that we’ll be able to do normal couple things one day? she would be lying to my face.
“y/n, look at me.”
i sink deeper into my seat. i feel hot tears begin to pour out of my eyes. i can no longer feel natasha’s touch on my thigh.
i let out a sob. im pathetic.
“baby, please look at me.”
i shake my head.
“fine. y/n, i love you so much. your pyrokinesis will never change that because i didn’t fall in love with your body temperature, but with your personality. you didn’t deserve what those cruel people did to you but unfortunately you cannot change your story. and sure maybe i get a twinge of sadness watching other couples, but i love our connection more than any pda or hugs or touches. i love the way you assure i feel loved without having to touch me all the time. you are more than your pyrokinesis. i will keep saying that until you get it. because it’s true; nothing will ever change that. you are worth the moon and stars to me.”
i feel tears begin to flow down my cheeks. i sit up and look at natasha. i gaze into her eyes for a few seconds but immediately look away. playing with my hands, i utter something under my breath in hopes she won’t hear me.
natasha inches her face closer to mind and kisses my tears away. she pulls back smiling and stares at me knowingly when she feels me heat up a bit.
“what was that honey? i can’t hear you.”
this time i make tiny flames from my fingertips and decide to speak up a little more.
“i said, i love you too.”
natasha smiles at me knowing i do appreciate what she has said, but i’m just too shy.
“natasha, i love you so much you don’t even know. and if i could control myself i would tell you more, but i think if i do i’ll start crying and melt this chair.”
at that natasha giggles and grabs my chin to kiss all over my face.
“heyy! you’re gonna get me riled up!”
i swat her face away. she begins to laugh and i stare at her, confused.
“babe, your face is literally as red as my hair!”
“okay, that’s not fair. you’re such a bad girlfriend.”
i roll my eyes and jump off of my chair, heading towards the sliding door to go back outside.
“you sure you wanna go back outside? if you want to we can stay inside and cool you down. i can ask tony to order us some ice-cream. fuck, we can even get you an ice bath.”
i look back at natasha and shake my head while giggling.
“that’s fine, i want you to enjoy yourself. cmon.”
i wait for my girlfriend to join me and we make our way back outside.
everything turned out fine, for today. there were still a few accidents. unfortunately that’s the reality behind being an enhanced human. we will always make mistakes and have accidents, but that’s what reminds us we are still human.
i am still human, and still lovable.
a/n: this is my first work so be kind lol!! but let me know if you guys have any requests or want me to continue this series (?). honestly this isn’t proofread, the ending was lowkey rushed, and it’s nearly 3am so if it’s dookie that’s why lol. but yea, thank you for reading if you made it this far!
word count: 1.6k
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moonxknightx · 1 month
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♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : STAY WITH ME (PT.3) : :;
╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ 2017!Logan Howlett x F!Reader
・❥・GENRE: Fluff and a bit of angst at the start
˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆FANDOM: X-Men
ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: Violence, blood/injury, strong language, emotional distress
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: ogan is preparing himself to go to North Dakota, and you share a tender moment before he leaves. Later, he returns with a young mutant, Laura, and a group of enemies confronts you. After a violent encounter, you’re injured, and Logan helps you recover, leading to a deepening connection between you two.
Previous Part | Next Part
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“ARE YOU SURE YOU GOT EVERYTHING?” You asked Logan as he finished up packing his bag.
Logan sighed while rubbing his forehead. “I think so yeah.” You gave him a small smile while walking towards him.
“Here for you.” You said as you handed him a bag of chips. “For when you’re hungry on the way.”
Logan looked at the bag of chips and then at you. “It’s your favorite right?” You asked when you noticed Logan staring at you.
Logan cleared his throat while nodding. “Yeah these are my favorite, thank you bub.” He gave you a small smile while taking the chips out of your hand and putting it in his bag.
You watched how he turned back to you, unsure of what to do now. “Please be kind for the girl Logan.” You said, causing Logan to roll his eyes.
“I’m serious!” You said a little louder while hitting his arm. “I know.” Logan said with a slight smile.
“Well go then. You promised Gabriela you would be there at 8AM.” You told Logan who nodded and grabbed his bag.
You followed him to his car and watched how he threw his bag on the backseat.
“Well…i’ll see you in a few days then.” Sighed Logan as he opened the door to the driver’s seat.
“Wait.” You said as you came up to Logan and wrapped your arms around his torso.
Logan was surprised at your sudden action but hugged you back nonetheless. “Be safe okay.” You whispered against his chest.
“I will. You too okay? And take good care of Charles and Caliban.” Said Logan as he looked down at you still wrapped around his body.
“I will.” You smiled as you finally let go of him. It pained Logan to see you let go of him. If it was possible, he would’ve taken you with him. But it was too dangerous and someone needed to stay behind to care for Xavier and Caliban.
“See you soon bub.” Said Logan while placing a kiss to your forehead before getting into his car.
You were stunned at what had just happened. Logan almost never initiated physical touch. I mean not since last year. Before, he used to cuddle you and kiss your face all the time but that stopped after the Westchester incident. And now he had kissed you on your forehead again.
You watched as Logan drove away. You kept looking until his car was out of sight before going back inside.
“So he will be back in a few days?” Asked Caliban as you entered the kitchen to prepare breakfast for Charles.
“Yeah.” You sighed softly. Caliban raised an eyebrow at you but didn’t say anything more as he retreated to his room.
When you were done preparing breakfast for Charles and grabbing his medication, you teleported yourself into his tank.
“Good morning Charles.” You smiled as you walked towards his bed. You placed the usual tray with breakfast on the small table opposite his bed before turning back to Charles.
“Good morning.” He sighed as he tried his best go get up. “Here let me help you.” You offered as you pulled the sheets back and helped Charles into his wheelchair.
“How are you feeling today?” You asked while watching how Charles rolled himself towards the table to eat his breakfast.
“Better than yesterday.” He said before taking a bite of his toast. You smiled as you started making up his bed.
“Something is bothering you.” Charles suddenly said. You turned around so you could look at him.
“Come here.” Charles offered while patting the chair next to him. You did as he asked and sat down next to him.
“Logan is going to be gone for a few days.” You said quietly as you prepared the meds for Charles.
“Is he on a mission?” Asked Charles as you handed him his pills and a glass of water. You hummed. “Sort of.” You answered.
“I regret what i said to him yesterday.” Charles mumbled before taking in his pills with a large sip of water.
“I know.” You spoke softly, remembering how he called Logan a disappointment yesterday.
“He’s dying, child.” Charles said as he looked at you. You tried your best to avoid eye contact as you looked up at the huge ceiling of the tank.
“We will find a cure or a way for him to survive.” You said quietly. Charles smiled at your words before nodding.
“Would you like to play a game of chess my dear?” Charles asked, noticing your slight change in behavior, upon hearing that Logan was dying.
You looked at Charles and started smiling. You always enjoyed playing chess with him.
“I’d love to old man.”
~
You were laying on your bed when you heard tires screeching outside. You immediately got up and went to your window to see, Logan?
“What the fuck?” You said to yourself before running downstairs and heading outside, Caliban following after you.
“Logan what happened?” You asked as Logan got out of his car.
“Did something go wrong?” Asked Caliban as you both watched Logan walk away.
“The job was wrong to begin with.” Logan said before heading inside, leaving you and Caliban both dumbfounded. Logan wasn’t even gone for two hours. What happened?
“What’s this?” Asked Caliban as he pulled out a green backpack and a ball out of the trunk of Logan’s car.
You turned around and your eyes widened as you recognized the ball. It was Laura’s.
“Logan!” You called as you inspected the backpack. “What?” Sighed Logan as he stepped back outside.
“Look at this.” You said as you showed him the backpack and the ball.
“What the…” Began Logan.
“Who’s that?” Asked Caliban as he pointed at a car approaching.
Both you and Logan looked up at the same time. “Fuck!” Cursed Logan as he watched the car.
“You two get inside and keep Charles quiet.” Logan ordered. Caliban immediately did as he was told but you lingered.
“Logan what’s happening?” You asked slowly. “I don’t know. Get inside now.” Logan ordered again. This time you did as he told you and went back inside.
You sat down in front of the camera screen and watched how a blonde guy stepped out of the car and walked up to Logan.
“Donald Pierce…” You mumbled. “The guy from that business card?” Asked Caliban as he also looked at the screens. “Yes. Get Charles, Caliban.” You said, not taking your eyes off the screen. Caliban nodded and quickly went to retrieve Charles.
A few minutes had passed, Caliban came back with Charles and Logan and Pierce were still talking until someone suddenly threw a metal pipe at Pierce’s head.
“What was that?” You asked as you immediately stood up. “Laura.” Smiled Charles.
You gave Charles a confused look and ran outside, Caliban and Charles following after you.
When you got outside, you saw Laura slowly approaching Logan while Logan looked really fucking confused.
“This is Laura.” Smiled Charles as he motioned for the girl to come closer. “We’ve been waiting for you.” He said. “Come it’s okay.” Charles added.
You watched how Laura walked over to Logan and snatched her backpack out of his hands before following Charles.
As Laura passed you, she shot you a glance before disappearing inside.
You went up to Logan to look at Pierce who laid very unconsciously on the ground.
“Are you okay?” You asked Logan as you took his hand in yours. “Yes i’m fine.” Logan said as he looked down at Pierce.
“Caliban, take his body and drop it somewhere else. Text me when you’re done so i can pick you up.” Logan told Caliban before walking inside the building.
“What if he wakes up before i arrive?” Caliban asked you as Logan had already disappeared.
You looked at Pierce for a while before kicking him in the neck. “Now he won’t.” You said before going back inside as well.
When you entered the living room you saw Logan pulling onto Laura’s backpack while she held it on the other side.
“Logan!” Said Charles while watching. “Logan let go.” You said as you came up besides Logan and ripped his hands away from Laura’s backpack.
Logan huffed and walked towards the sink to grab a glass of water. You sat down next to Laura and gave her a kind smile which she sort of returned.
“Logan, the woman you met, that’s not her mother.” Charles said while following Logan.
“So she talks?” Asked Logan while looking at Laura. “We’re communicating.” Said Charles quietly.
“Communicating?” Repeated Logan as he handed Charles his pills. “Take these in now. We have to get out of here. It’s not safe here anymore. And you can’t have an attack out there, you understand?”
Charles nodded but raised his hand. “Yes but this is the mutant that i told you about.”
Your head whipped up at hearing the word ‘mutant’. “She needs our help.” Charles added.
“She isn’t a mutant!” Scoffed Logan. “Yes she is!” Yelled Charles.
“What’s her gift Charles? Eating? Pipe throwing?” Asked Logan sarcastically while shaking his head.
Suddenly there were rumbling noises outside and the building began to shake slightly.
Laura immediately got up and looked around her. “Hey it’s okay.” You said as you got up as well, trying to calm the girl down.
“Yes it’s just the choo-choo.” Charles said, trying to imitate a train.
“No it’s not.” Grunted Logan as he looked on the camera screen. You quickly went up to Logan and saw multiple cars heading towards your direction on the screen.
“We have to go.” Said Logan as he pushed Charles towards the back door of the building. “Let’s go!” Logan said to you while walking faster.
“Logan the girl!” You said as you looked at Laura. “Leave her, let’s go!” You sighed and motioned for Laura to follow you but she stayed inside.
“Fuck!” You groaned as you followed Logan outside. You helped Logan with getting Charles in the car before getting in yourself. Logan sprung behind the steering wheel and started the car.
He immediately drove off, hoping to find a way to escape but unfortunately cars were closing in on you on all sides.
“Fuck fuck fuck!” Yelled Logan as he punched the steering wheel. “Logan!” You said loudly.
“Stay here okay?” Said Logan as he got out of the car to see Pierce in front of him again.
You watched them closely through the window until you saw Pierce punching Logan to the ground.
“Oh fuck no!” You said as you got out of the car. You saw how Logan tried to get up but a group of men came pouncing on him, hitting him and kicking him where they could, until Logan was bleeding.
“Hey assholes!” You yelled, getting the attention from the men who were attacking Logan.
You heard them growling before some of them ran towards you. A small smile appeared on your face as you teleported away just in time.
You spawned behind them and touched their shoulders. “Hit each other until you’re both dead.” You whispered into their ears before teleporting again.
The two men started hitting each other without wanting to, and soon enough they were both on the ground.
You teleported to Logan and pierced the other guys who were still hitting and kicking Logan, in their necks with a small knife you always carried with you.
“Here get up.” You said as you helped Logan up. “Are you okay.” You asked as he held onto you. “Yes, are you?” He asked while checking your body to see if there were any injuries. “I’m fine Logan.” You chuckled as you cupped his cheek.
“There she is!” Sounded Pierce from behind you two. You and Logan quickly turned around to see Laura coming out of the building with something in her hands.
You watched how Pierce tried to lure Laura to him, but Laura didn’t listen. Then she threw the thing she was holding before Pierce’s feet.
It was the head of one of his men.
“Holy fuck.” You said as you watched the sight in front of you. Logan kept you close to him as he watched Pierce’s men raise their guns to Laura.
“We have to help, Logan.” You whispered, but he shook his head. “Not yet.” He said.
The moment Pierce’s men began to fire their guns, Laura started screaming and jumped from man to man scratching at their necks, heads, shoulders, stomach’s and legs.
Then you saw it. Laura had two metal claws coming out of her hands. “Logan…” You breathed as you squeezed his arm.
Logan couldn’t believe his eyes. Charles was right. She was a mutant. And very much like Logan too.
“We have to help her!” You yelled before teleporting to Laura, helping her fight off various of Pierce’s men. Logan joined in as well. Scratching at their bodies as best as he could.
One guy tried to grab you by your neck but you were too fast. You teleported behind him and whispered something in his ear. Before you knew it he was choking on his own tongue while falling to the floor.
“Watch out!” You heard Logan yell as someone grabbed you by your arm and slammed you to the ground.
You felt lightheaded and tried to teleport but it didn’t work. You saw how the man climbed on top of you, a knife in his hand.
Suddenly Logan jumped onto the guy and smashed his claws into his head. “Get the fuck away from her.” He said as he pulled his claws out of the man.
He quickly went over to you and helped you up. “Fuck, are you okay?” Logan asked worriedly. “I’m fine.” You grunted as you held your head.
“We have to go.” You said while watching more cars approach. “Sounds like a plan.” Said Logan as he pulled you with him.
“Here get in!” He yelled as he opened the front door to the passenger seat. You jumped in the car before Logan did the same on the other side.
“Charles are you okay?” You asked as Logan took off. “Y-yes i’m fine.” Said a slightly confused Charles.
“We have to get Laura.” You told Logan. He gave you a nod and turned the car around.
“Laura!” You yelled as you neared her. Laura looked around and saw the car. You watched how she jumped onto the last guy, scratching his head open before she jumped onto the car.
“Fuck she’s amazing.” You smiled slightly as Laura slid into the vehicle through the rooftop window of the car.
Logan sped up and drove right through the entrance gates of the old facility you two had made your home.
“We’re being followed.” You said warily as you saw multiple cars chase after you, from behind and from the sides.
“Shit!” Cursed Logan as he tried his best to keep ahead of them.
A car was approaching your left and you watched how Laura smashed her claws through the window to hit the driver’s head.
“Wonderful…” Chimed Charles as he was watching the young mutant.
The same happened a few more times and you helped Laura. Using your teleporting ability to switch from car to car to kill Pierce’s men.
When it was clear you guys were ahead, you teleported back to Logan’s car.
Logan immediately looked at you with wide eyes. “What? I’m good at what i do.” You smiled causing Logan to shake his head.
“Watch out!” You said while pointing ahead of you. A train was approaching. “We have to be faster.” Logan muttered as he pressed as hard as he could on the gas pedal.
You were pressed back into your seat as Logan drove the car over the railway just in time.
You looked back to see Pierce and his men being stopped on the other side of the railway because of the train.
“We made it!” You exclaimed excitedly as Logan kept driving at full speed.
Suddenly you felt a sharp pain in the back of your left shoulder. “Fuck…” You murmured as you tried to look at what it was.
“Are you okay?” Asked Logan in a worried tone while looking at you. “Yeah i’m fine.” You said uncomfortably as you shifted in your seat.
“You’re bleeding.” You heard Charles say from behind you. Logan immediately looked at your shoulder and saw a red patch of blood forming on your shirt.
Logan cursed under his breath while tightening his hands on the steering wheel. “Logan it’s fine. It’s just a little scratch.” You told him softly.
“Yeah sure.” Logan sighed as he put his eyes back on the road.
~
After being sure you all were a big step ahead of Pierce, Logan pulled up at a small gas station to refill the gas of the car and to think of what to do next.
“I’m going to the bathroom to see what is going on with my shoulder.” You said softly as you got out of the car with a few grunts.
Logan watched how you disappeared in the small store the gas station owned while sighing.
“Logan.” Charles said, making Logan turn his head to the back of the car to see Laura getting a bit restless.
“Take her to that thing over there.” Charles pointed in front of him and Logan followed his finger. It landed on a small machine in the form of a pony. It was that kind of thing where you put in some coins and the pony would move for a minute or so. Logan scoffed while shaking his head.
“Please Logan.” Sighed Charles. Logan rolled his eyes before getting out of the car. “Fine.” He said while opening the back door for Laura.
Laura followed Logan to the pony and got lifted onto it by him. “Here.” Logan said as he handed Laura a handful of coins. He explained to Laura what she needed to do and then told her to stay put before also entering the small store of the gas station.
Logan immediately made his way to the restroom while calling your name.
“In here.” You said as you opened your stall. “Are you okay?” Asked Logan softly. “No i need your help.” You sighed as you went out of the stall into the main area of the restoom with a mirror and a sink.
“Here.” You said while handing Logan a small first aid kit. “I just bought it.” You explained when you noticed Logan’s confusion.
“I need you to stitch me up.” You spoke softly while turning to Logan. “Okay.” Was all he said as he stepped closer to you.
He placed the first aid kit on the sink before clearing his throat. “I think it works better if you take off your shirt.” Logan said awkwardly while avoiding your gaze.
“Okay.” You nodded and tried to take your shirt off, but you couldn’t due to the immense pain you were feeling in your shoulder.
“Here let me.” Logan offered quietly as he put his hands on the hem of your shirt. He very carefully pulled your shirt up and gently removed both of your arms out of the sleeves without causing too much pain.
“There you go.” Smiled Logan slightly as he threw your shirt on the sink as well.
“Thank you.” You smiled while looking up at him. Logan suddenly realized that you were just wearing a bra now and quickly looked away.
“Okay let’s get you stitched up.” He said while clearing his throat. “Yeah sure thing.” You said as you turned to the mirror. You watched how Logan moved behind you and opened the first aid kit. He grabbed the needle and a thread and started prepping.
After years of keeping his emotions tightly guarded, Logan finally allowed himself to let you in. Seeing you get hurt had triggered something in him, even though the injury was small, he realized he couldn’t stand the thought of losing you too.
It was a small yet profound moment when he helped you tend to your injury, his hands gentle despite the hardened exterior. As he carefully stitched up your wound, the walls he'd built around his heart began to crumble, revealing a vulnerability he had denied for far too long.
In that shared silence, Logan's silent admission of trust and affection spoke volumes. When he finished stitching your injury, he turned you around and looked into your eyes, and in an unspoken understanding, you both leaned in, sharing a tender kiss that sealed the beginning of a deeper, more genuine connection.
“Lo…” You whispered as your lips parted. “I love it when you call me that.” Logan breathed as he pressed his forehead against yours.
“I’m sorry it took me this long to let you in.” He said quietly while closing his eyes. “It’s okay Lo.” You smiled softly while running a hand through his hair.
“Please don’t ever get hurt again.” Logan chuckled slightly. “It wasn’t even that bad asshole.” You laughed as you playfully hit Logan’s arm.
“Still, i don’t like seeing you in pain.” Logan shrugged. You rolled your eyes before taking a step back. “I’ll be more careful then.” You smirked slightly before you heard someone clearing their throat.
You both looked to your right to see Laura in front of you.
“What the fuck.” Muttered Logan, immediately transforming back into his usual grumpy self.
You watched how Laura walked towards you and handed you a new white shirt. “Thank you Laura.” You smiled sweetly.
“Did you even pay for that?” Asked Logan, but Laura ignored him and left the restroom.
Logan sighed as he rubbed his temple. “I’m going to pay for that shirt. See you outside?” Asked Logan softly. You smiled and gave him a nod.
You watched how Logan placed a soft kiss on your forehead before leaving the restroom as well.
Logan couldn’t help but smile as he exited the restroom and thought back to the kiss you and him shared just moments ago.
He was so glad it happened, but he was also so angry at himself for letting it take so goddamn long. He knew he wanted you a long time ago. He was just so afraid of scaring you away, or hurting you, or letting you die. But Logan knew that was all nonsense now. He would never let anything bad happen to you. He would protect you until his last breath.
He swore that to himself.
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hells-dragon · 1 month
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I Love You In Every Universe
Logan Howlett x Fem Reader
This is based on a song called Immortal by Reinaeiry and this quote from WandaVision "We've said goodbye before, so it stands to reason." "We'll say hello again."
Contains: angst, character death but you come back at the end, fluff at the end 🩷
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Logan never thought he would actually see you again. Back in his world, you had died in his arms. Even as you were bleeding out, you were so certain that he would see you again. It would be a different you, in a different world, in a different universe, but you were so full of hope that the universe would bring you back together.
Logan didn't really believe that would ever happen but held onto the hope for you as you lay dying in his arms. He held you as close as possible with his face in your neck, taking deep breaths of your scent.
With the little effort you had, you slowly raised your hand, gently placing it on Logan's cheeks. Your lover instantly leaned into it. "Hey, Lo, it's gonna be ok. I promise."
"Nothing is ok without you bub"
"It will be, besides." Pressing your forehead against his, "we've said goodbye before, so it stands to reason."
"We'll say hello again."
"I love you Logan. In every universe I love you. You just need to find me again." You let out a soft sob as two single tear drops fell down your face. "We can be together again. And hey, who knows we might finally be able to settle down, get married, maybe have some kids."
A smile spreads across Logan's tear stained face "that sounds perfect darlin"
Logan presses his lips to your forehead as you let out your final breath. Logan's body is racked with sobs as he sits there holding onto your lifeless body for what felt like an eternity.
Logan lost the X-Men that day as well. He was too busy getting shit faced at the bar trying to numb the pain that your death has caused. He had truly lost everything. That was until Wade found him, and they saved the universe.
Now Logan is sitting around a table in Wade's apartment surrounded by people with Mary Puppins on his lap and Laura sitting next to him. He can see why this world's Logan cared about her so much. He couldn't help but wonder if there was a you in this world and if you were still alive.
Logan was snapped out of his thoughts by a knock at the door. Wade jumped up, clapping his hands excitingly, exclaiming that she was finally here. Wade flung open the door, and a very familiar smell that Logan would recognise anywhere suddenly filled his nose. As soon as Wade had stepped aside, he saw you standing there alive with the most carefree expression he had ever seen on you. He could swear his heart skipped a beat.
Wade had practically dragged you over to introduce you to him. "So this grumpy honey badger over here is"
"Logan." you spoke with a soft smile before Wade could. "Hi."
"Hey, Y/N." Logan spoke your name for the first time in years.
Meanwhile, Wade was going to explode with the amount of questions he had about this particular situation.
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evie-sturns · 7 months
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𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙤𝙜𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 - 𝙈𝙖𝙩𝙩 𝙎𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙤𝙡𝙤
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summary: you and matt had previously dated for a few years until him and his brothers grew famous, where matt became arrogant and self centered. fast foward to to present, a couple years later. you have moved on from matt completly until you run into him at an influencer party, what will unfold when you approach him? will you two rekindle or will the wall stay strong between you two.
contains: angst, arguing, swearing, fluff, making out.
—---------------└─── °∘❉∘° ───┘--------———
(2 years ago)
i lay on the couch next to matt, my head resting on his shoulder as the tv rambles. hes invested in his phone, typing every few seconds.
hes been filming videos with his brothers, chris and nick, for the past year or two, and they've just hit 3 million subscribers.
matt clears his throat before moving my head off him, "i gotta talk to you, yeah?"
my eyebrows furrow, i look over at matt who has an unreadable expression on his face. I nod slowly with a hum, "i don't know how to say this, but uh-... nick chris and i have decided to move to l.a with laura."
what?
"what?" i instantly reply, my stomach drops to my knees.
"gotta chase them dreams." he shrugs casually, picking up his phone.
anger starts to bubble inside of me, why the fuck is he being so nonchalant about moving across the whole country? what am i gonna do, just be left here and forgotten about?
"what the hell matt!" i say, raising my voice and slamming the phone out of his hand, he throws his hands up defensively. "are you being fucking serious right now?" i yell, "calm down bro?" he mumbles, picking his phone back up.
i stay silent, waiting for matt to speak, or atleast a solution. he just stays silent, looking around the room. "matt, what am i gonna do." i sigh, trying to contain myself.
"uh.. not sure?" matt leans back on the couch. "like you can come with if you want but i won't really.." he pauses for a few seconds
"have time for you..? i mean we're staying in lauras apartment which doesnt have enough space anyway but you could always sleep on the couch or something."
i scoff, "so this is it?" tears start to roll down my cheeks. "if you can't handle my fame and me moving then thats not my problem." he runs a hand through his hair before standing up.
without another word I'm upstairs and packing my suitcase, I'm leaving.
(Current time)
ever since matt and i's messy breakup ive been moving around alot, i spent the first month or so living with my parents, where i started content creating on various platforms. i would be lying if i said i didn't get popular, over the past 2 years ive gained a few million followers.
a year ago today i moved to l.a, where i've been thriving.
9:38pm
"y/n come on!" i hear yolanda, my roomate, shout from downstairs, today i've been invited to a party for influencers, i think. i run downstairs in my baby pink stiletto heels. yolanda is wearing a long shimmering black dress with a large slit up to the mid thigh. "hottie" i tease as i walk past her.
"shush" she replys with a wide grin, i walk outside to find our uber waiting patiently "yoyo!" i yell back to her as she scrambles around to find her purse.
i climb into the uber, "my bad, my friends coming now."
yolanda comes running outside, swinging open the door to the uber and crawling over me. i laugh slightly at her, she glares at me while applying lip gloss.
"you okay?" i ask her, "just nervous, its weird being a plus one to a party where i know famous people will be." she replies with a breath.
"you'll be okay gorg, i have no idea whos even going so we'll just stay together hm?" i say comfortingly, watching the lively streets of l.a outside the window.
the uber comes to a stop outside a large beachside mansion, i give him a quick thankyou before grabbing yolandas hand and approaching the house. the blaring music is audible from outside the house.
we walk up the stairs together, our heels clicking in sync on the marble steps. the doors to the house are wide open, the first person i see when i come inside makes my heart drop.
christopher sturniolo
my breath hitches in my throat, theres thankfully no sight of matt, i mean hes never really been one for partys. i feel physically sick when me and chris lock eyes, i guess i look different since the last time i saw him, 2 years ago.
I haven't really thought about matt since i moved to l.a, the last person i wouldve expected to see here is his triplet brothers.
i shoot yolanda a look, she looks equally has disturbed as me.
i decide to keep navigating through the various bunches of people, i look back and yolandas gone, flirting with some random instagram male model. i scoff with a smile.
i turn my body back around, an audible gasp escapes my mouth as matt sturniolo stands infront of me,
alone.
he smiles awkwardly with a wave, he looks me up and down while he clutches the cup in his hand so tight his knuckles go white. "you look different." matt says, his voice shaking from nerves
"charming." i roll my eyes.
"no!- no i meant in a good way, i mean in a platonic way, but you look different, sorry-.. how are ya doing.." matt rambles, stammering over every word.
a small smile forms on my face, which instantly drops when i remember the events of what happened the last time i saw him. "i've been doing really good actually." i reply, nodding my head slowly.
"yeah, i saw !thats awesome you got selected for that peoples choice awa-rds..." matt says before stopping himself, i laugh slightly.
has he been stalking me? that got announced an hour ago.
"thanks matt, how have you been?" i ask, he takes a small breath "i've been good, yeah.." matt says, he clearly doesn't think the world revolves around him like how he did 2 years ago.
another silence fills the air between us, but he breaks it. "do you wanna come with me?" matt asks abruptly, my eyebrows furrow "sure?"
he reaches out a hand subtly, i take it.
he guides us through hundreds of people, yolanda eyes me down with her jaw slack, i shrug my shoulders with a smile back at her. the night hair hits my revealed skin as matt lets my hand go slowly.
"should we go sit on the sand?" i ask quietly while we walk side by side on the footpath.
-
10:12pm
matt and i have been walking side by the shoreline for a few minutes, catching up on the past 2 years of no contact
"wait so you're at 6 million?" i laugh in shock, he shakes his head with a smile "shut up!!"
"no like, congratulations matt thats really awesome."
he shrugs it off with a playful nudge to my shoulder,
the past 30 minutes or so neither of us have brought up the last time we spoke, our last interaction, the final fight. i think we both don't want to ruin what we have going on right now.
a silence forms as the ripple waves crash onto the shore, my palms are sweating from the warmth from the night. "wanna go sit up there? in the dunes?" matt asks, pointing up the beach. "oh-..oh yeah!" i agree chirpily, snapping out of my somewhat 'trance'
he leads us away from the water up into the sand dunes, the mound of sand and grass behind us acting as privacy. he flops down onto his back, laying down on the sand. I lay down close beside him, our legs touching against eachother.
"i want to talk to you about what happened that night." i blurt out softly, just from the plain moonlight i can see matts cheeks are a deep maroon. he nods "yeah." with a shaky sigh.
"i was an asshole, like proper crazy." he says in a serious tone.
"honest to god i think the fame was making me go insane, i thought i was so much better than.. everyone? i never shouldve told you like that, or moved in general" he rambles, guilt painted in his voice.
"matt, moving was best for you." i cut him off, but he instantly snaps back
"i don't think it was? i miss you so much."
i sit up, the loose sand falling off my back "and i never really moved on, i'm so grateful i found you tonight 'cause the guilt has been eating away at me, and im so sorry, i am so fucking sorry." matt mumbles slightly.
i nod understandably "i think we needed the break, i can see you've changed a lot, for the better."
matt sits up too, sand grains scattered in his brunette locks as his tongue pokes out quickly to wet his lips. his eyes stare into mine before he reaches out a hand to grab my jaw, right under my ear.
"can I kiss you?"
i nod frantically "yeah-of course"
matt leans in, his body shifting on the sand while the calm waves crash onto the shoreline.
his lips meet mine, a distant familiar feeling that i hate to admit but ive really missed, even though ive forced myself not to.
his tongue asks for enterance, which i quickly allow. his tongue slips into my mouth,
i move my hair to one side before hooking one leg over his thigh, moving my body to straddle him while keeping our lips connected.
our kiss turns from gentle, to desperate. craving what we've missed for the past 2 years.
after a well-needed few minutes, we finally pull away from each other to catch our breath. panting fills the air before he pulls me into a tight hug his arms moving over my back as i stay seated on his lap. leaning onto his chest.
"i think we should retry, everything." he matt says into my hair as i rest my chin over his shoulder
"gotta agree with you on that one matthew." i laugh, joy overpowering me.
-
"matt there you fucking are!" a familiar voice yells from a few meters away. i look up, breaking matt and i's hug.
chris and nick are standing side by side with a shocked expression on their face. "holy shit!" nick laughs,
nick used to be one of my closest friends, but after the breakup with matt and i we were forced apart, i think after his brothers caught me ontop of matt it gave them the all clear to interact with me again.
i climb off of matts lap, running across the sand towards nick before leaping into his arms, the long fabric of my dress drowning nick.
"someone please fill me in" chris says cluelessly.
matt walks over to us 3, nick puts me down "uh yeah, we are retrying stuff after a chat, a really good one actually." he says, scratching the back of his head.
"oh my god thank you y/n, matt has not shut up about you for the past 2 years holy fuck." chris says after a dramatic gasp.
-------------
this took so long to write i hope u guys really like it!
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ilovejoostklein · 4 months
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Sweet Vodka
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Joost performs at the club you bartend at and thinks you’re pretty // joost x fem!reader
part 1/2
nsfw: smut
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It would be a miracle if you’d walk out tonight with your sanity, much less your hearing. You were on the other side of the club, hugged by the neon pink and purple lights that reminded you of the sunsets outside that you always missed. Ever since you moved to the Netherlands for university, you have been working like a dog to pay your way and enjoy life in a new country. It was tempting not to sneak a drink or take a shot with the customers, the ones that were friendly enough to ask an extremely drunken man or tourist, now and then to drink away your loneliness.
You dressed nicely today as your manager warned you it would be a lot busier than usual. You ironed your black work blouse for once, you wore the clean waist apron and slacks that hugged your figure rather than the stained, comfortable ones. Your legs were hidden by the counter, you figured it was pointless to be uncomfortable through your eight-hour shift just for the sake of vanity. Your hair was pulled back neatly, and a few strands fell out against your flushed face as you had a full bar and were trying your best to manage with your coworker. You did your makeup just enough so that it wouldn’t melt off, but still accentuated your features even in the dim club. 
“It’s crazy tonight.” You shouted to one of the four other bartenders tonight, Laura, as you passed each other, a drink in each hand. 
She shook her head, “Not as crazy as the performer.”
You glanced over your shoulder towards where the source of the beaming lights and densely crowded stage was. You were quite far away, you couldn’t make out the tall blonde man who somehow had the crowd mesmerized. You smiled to yourself, it was cute how he was jumping around the stage and was so carefree, it was a nice change from the performers singing ballads or DJs who took themselves too seriously. 
“It’s cute.” You said, earning an eye roll, causing you to protest with a laugh “ What .” 
“This is his last song and he and his friends are about to give us hell when they get over here.” She warned. “It always happens with these younger performers.”
Laura was like your work mom, and you hated it when she was right. The set ended, the crowd was louder than ever with their goodbye and dispersed out the door, towards the bar, or stayed on the dance floor for the DJ’s set. It made the night run smoother that your shift was over in only an hour. The rush rolled off your back, people weren’t ordering fancy cocktails, opting for shots, and just wanted to get wasted. 
“Bring these to the back.” Laura suddenly tapped your shoulder and nodded towards a tray with a bottle of vodka and five shot glasses. “For the performers.”
You took the tray without a second thought and made your way to where the performers stayed. it was behind where the stage was, protected by a bodyguard and a key that you had clipped to your keychain inside one of your apron pockets. 
Tonight, one of the bouncers was there and luckily let you in, saving you from performing a balancing act. You thanked him breathlessly, walking into the fluorescent halls and squinting immediately. It was strangely desolate, the club was an older building and the bright white lights against the intricate architecture gave you a cold feeling. The lowly feeling of servitude and marching up drinks for a performer and his friends, who would either treat you sweetly or like the dirt on their shoe didn’t help your nerves. 
You followed the commotion of men laughing and talking in a mix of Dutch and English. As you suspected, your ears were ringing quite intensely , your head and eyes ached from the brightness and loudness of his hour-long set. Upon reaching the weathered door, you took a deep breath and knocked.
The door practically flew open and you felt yourself die from the embarrassment of how the room went silent, even if you couldn’t see inside. “I’m here with the bottle you ordered.” You announced tensely. 
“Thank you.” The man who opened the door said, taking it from your hands with a warm smile. You noticed his eyes scanned you from top to bottom before coming back to meet your gaze. “Why don’t you come inside?” He offered. 
He only had the door open, just enough to take the tray from your hands. It wasn’t the first time a performer had invited you back. Nothing ever came of it besides someone from his team thought you were cute and wanted to take you to wherever they were staying, but you always politely declined, never even stepping foot inside. How many people were in there, five, ten? Did they bring back women from the crowd and just want to add you to the bunch? The possibilities made you withdraw from the door, making your timidness painfully obvious from the way you stepped back and your eyes darted to the floor. 
“Just come in for a quick drink.” He pressed gently. “So we have an excuse to get another bottle.” 
You were dying for a drink and to get away from the commotion, a quick shot wouldn’t hurt you. In all honesty, your curiosity got the better of you as well. You never saw the inside of that room and the performers themselves had never spoken to you besides for their drink order. 
To your surprise, only five men were sitting on the couches watching something on the TV. Two of them were smoking, making the room smell heavily of cigarettes which made you grow even dizzier. It was common here, but you never could get used to the pungent smell of tobacco.
What overwhelmed your senses more was the performer himself, Joost. You knew his face and his name from the promotional posters plastered around the club. You couldn’t help the blush that engulfed your cheeks and the coldness that spread across your chest. He had the sweetest smile you’d ever seen, it lit up his whole face and radiated warmth. You felt yourself burn completely in his presence alone. 
“Please, sit.” Joost made space for you on the couch right beside him. “I don’t think it’s good to drink standing.” 
You watched one of the men pour the shots, and you realized they were of course a glass short as they couldn’t have possibly accounted for you. You watched awkwardly, folding into yourself as they slammed the glasses down and the other men turned their attention towards each other. 
Joost reached over for the bottle and turned to you. “Your turn.” He began to take the cap off and your eyes slightly widened as you realized what he was doing. “Open.”
You nervously opened your mouth and closed your eyes, praying internally that you wouldn’t spit it out all over the table, or worse his clothes. He poured a little over a shot in your mouth and you swallowed quickly, the bitterness killing whatever appetite you worked up and blanketing you with the warming goosebumps that hard liquor brought over your skin. 
The men chuckled at the grimace on your face as you quickly wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. It was sticky with your lip gloss and the remnants of vodka, but you desperately wanted another shot to soothe your nerves. You felt too many eyes on you, and the mood of the room had completely shifted from your presence. 
They announced that they wanted to go sit by the bar, it was too quiet in the dressing room for their liking, and they were hungry, grabbing their coats, and taking a few more shots before leaving. You had a suspicion from their sudden shift in demeanor and fleeting glances that they wanted to leave the two of you alone. 
“I’m Joost.” The man stuck out his hand, you took it for a firm handshake before bringing your hand towards his lips and pressing a kiss against it.
You introduced yourself, watching as he looked up from your hand, soft lips still pressed against your skin and his eyes fixed on yours. It was like it was morning again, looking up at the blue sky but the darkness of his pupils reminded you it was just his eyes, bringing you back to the reality of the room. 
“Can I have another drink?” You couldn’t believe you had the nerve to ask, but he smiled that adorable smile again and nodded. 
“Of course.” He opened the bottle and poured another shot and a half into your mouth. “Another one?” He questioned, watching as you struggled to swallow the disgusting vodka. 
“No, thanks.” You said, feeling the warmth again that you loved so much. 
“Good, because I wasn’t going to give it to you.” He said, you felt yourself smile. “One shot was enough.”
“You’re right.” You watched as he poured a shot for himself. “We have great beer, you know.” 
He hummed as he took the shot as if it was water. “Are you trying to get away from me already?” He asked playfully. 
You wondered how worried your expression was before you spoke because he quickly tried to assure you, “Unless you have to get back to work.” He reiterated. “I don’t want to hold you captive.”
“No, it’s not that.” You laughed, “My shift is over soon anyway.” 
A smile spread across his face, it was so charming you felt an overwhelming need to kiss him, but you blamed that on the alcohol. “Oh.” He said, “I’m lucky.” 
“You’re lucky?” You questioned, the two shots taking full effect especially because you had them on an empty stomach. 
“I wanted to invite you to my apartment.” He said. “I saw you on the way inside, you’re very pretty.”
You were taken aback by his boldness. In the few months that you were here, you’d be so unsuccessful with dates. You were so lonely in your apartment, beautiful as it was you made it into your cozy haven to return to after a long day at school or work. It slowly ate you up inside that you had no one to share it with, and you returned every night to a cold, empty bed. You felt the breaking point right within the room, you couldn’t bear to return to a desolate apartment again. 
“Come to mine.” You said it without a second thought, the burning brush on your cheek returning to your face. 
It seemed that Joost couldn’t believe you either. His head turned to the side and his eyebrows furrowed as he seemed to inspect your unsure expression. It seemed that both of you were tipsy, with flushed cheeks, and staring at each other in an eerily quiet room. 
“Really?” He questioned. “Do you take people back to your apartment often?”
“No.” You retorted, still not able to get over how direct he was. “I haven’t had anyone over, yet.”
He let out a dry laugh, “I can take you on a date then.” He offered. “Or, I can come to your apartment and take you on the date after. Your choice.”
You could tell he was genuine, and self-assured in he didn’t have to misguide and press you for anything. Charisma exuded out of him, you couldn’t get enough. You were never one to hook up with a stranger but for whatever reason this time was the one, and likely last exception. You couldn’t stop staring at your reflection in his eyes, or taking in all his features when he smiled. You felt yourself lean closer to him, smelling the cologne on his skin and clothing that was dull, crisp fresh scent. 
It was like a string was woven in between your bodies, and kept bringing you closer. Joost’s hands cupped your face and brought you closer so that your chests were pressed up against each other. You felt your eyes flutter shut as his lips pressed against yours. They were soft and bitter from vodka and sweet tobacco. This was all purely lustful, shameless physical attraction. You thought he was the hottest man you’d seen since you arrived, and to him, you were too pretty to pass up. 
The kiss deepened, and you heard him moan softly every time he pulled away and it drove you wild. You felt yourself growing bolder and more confident as you grabbed his shoulders tightly, bunching up the smooth cotton of his shirt so that he’d be on top of you. He sighed deeply, pulling away to pepper kisses against your cheeks, moving down to your neck to lick and suck against the sensitive skin. 
You gasped loud enough that it made him put his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. He pressed his knee between your legs, drawing out a muffled cry as you writhed against his knee and took what little bit of pleasure he was giving you. 
He kept kissing and sucking on your neck, alternating sides, making sure to kiss your cheeks to cool the tension between you so that you didn’t up just fucking on the couch at your job. He could tell how much you liked it, you were already such a mess beneath him. It gave him the suspicion it was a while since anyone had touched you like this. The thought of it only excited him more, that you let him, a man you didn’t know at all, be the one to have you this way. 
Joost felt himself growing impatient, and he could see from the way you were holding onto him and rubbing over the bulge in his pants that you were too. He didn’t want to fuck you on the old, worn-down couch at the club, he knew that you’d both want to shower, and the thought of a sloppy fuck turned him off. 
He pulled away from you to grab his phone frantically from the table to text his friends, asking them to bring the car around to the back. His face was wet, his shirt was unbuttoned, hair disheveled, your legs in his lap. His heart pounded against his chest and the excitement filling his body was unbearable. He prayed that you didn’t live far away. 
“What’s your address?” He asked, not looking at the glowing screen of the phone. The light reflected against his sharp features making you lose focus. 
“I just live up the street.” You said, desperation seeping from your tone. “We could walk there.” 
Joost thought about it briefly, before deciding he’d save himself from the added torture of having to walk with you. He imagined how you’d look under the warm street lights, how the wind would blow through your hair that he’d let down, the way the cold air would pinch your already flushed cheeks. He knew your eyes would sparkle so much it would make the stars envious. He’d chosen to be selfish. 
“We have a car.” He said, “Just tell the driver where you live.”
You wondered why he would opt for a car ride that lasted no more than a few seconds, but it didn’t matter much. You arrived at your apartment, a small two-level building where you lived on the upper level over a newly vacant property. It was charming, an old, brick building with white trimming on the windows and flower boxes with pale pink peonies. You led him upstairs, not before fumbling with the key so much it made him laugh and smack your ass to hurry up. 
The two went up the stairs like teenage lovers, the lightness and excitement of it all brought you so much comforting relief that it wasn’t a dirty affair. He didn’t walk up with you in silence, his mind only on one thing. Even if you both were acting on purely physical intentions, there was a sense of playfulness rather than secrecy.
Joost brought a duffle bag with him, from the car, presumably a change of clothes and things he needed to spend the night. He asked to use your shower. 
“I’ll be quick.” He called out as he shut the door. 
It was strange having another man in your apartment. You sat on the couch, listening to the echo of him humming in the shower and the water hitting the porcelain. Your mind began to wonder, if you should open the bottle of red wine you got as a housewarming gift that was collecting dust in your cupboard, whether your coworkers were annoyed that you disappeared and would interrogate you on your next shift, if you should run to your room and grab a nice underwear set or if you should just come out in a towel. 
You heard the water stop and felt your heart drop into the pit of your stomach. You began to wonder if this was the best idea if you should get the wine in the cupboard or tell him you were too tired. When he stepped out with your towel wrapped around his waist, nothing else, the inhibitions seemed to melt away and were replaced with nothing but desire. 
“I left hot water for you, don’t worry.” He said, the smile on his face almost felt mocking. He felt the burn of your eyes against him, even watching as the water beads rolled against his soft skin that now smelled of your body wash. “Be quick.”
You realized in the shower that he didn’t leave much hot water, you should’ve known from all the steam in the room and that was leaving his skin. You had time to shave and scrub your body down with a floral scrub and the same body wash he used, but you had to wash your hair with cold water which made it miserable to come out with freezing skin and hair. You wrapped yourself in a towel and blow-dried your hair just enough to warm you up a bit.
Opening the door let in a gust of cold air and caused you to come out shivering immediately folding your arms over your chest. The silence was heavy, and only broken by Joost’s soft laughter. 
“Let me warm you.” He offered, standing up from the couch with the towel loosening around his waist and bringing you into his arms. “Where’s your bedroom?”
You felt yourself blossom in the warmth of his arms, holding his hand you led him anxiously to your room. You were glad you’d left your lamp on and everything neat, he’d probably look at you more favorably and it helped to set the mood. The warm orange light glowed against his lightly defined muscles, his skin was supple and almost malleable in your hand as he hovered above you, letting the towel fall on the floor and taking yours off. 
His fingers were still clad in silver rings, the cold metal made you flinch as his hand ran against your breasts and squeezed down. He kissed you on the lips, long and languid before kissing down your chest and taking a nipple into his mouth. 
You moaned softly under your breath, and through your half-lidded eyes, you watched as he removed his rings and reached over a bit aimlessly to set them on your nightstand. Your mind couldn’t keep up with the fluidity of his movements, unable to register the pleasure from his mouth and now feeling his fingers rub circles around your clit. 
You were so wet for him, Joost felt himself grow weaker in impatience. He felt he’d break, lose himself in desire, and take you all at once instead of the slow burn of foreplay. As his fingers rubbed against your pussy, he felt his hand grow slick, he teased one of his fingers at your entrance and your body reacted strongly, begging him without the need for any words to fuck you. He wanted to be selfish, he wanted to eat your pussy until you begged for him to stop and finish deep inside of you. 
Just finger fucking you was more perfect than he could’ve anticipated. The sound of the room was obscene, the way you two moaned and panted, and how wet you were as his two fingers pumped inside of you, you felt more than relieved you didn’t have the downstairs neighbor to worry about anymore. You cried praises as your head rested in the crook of his neck, biting and kissing. 
He kissed down your chest and left your breast with a string of saliva, his eyes meeting yours as he began to kiss down your stomach until his head rested between your thighs. You couldn’t fathom how someone could touch you so perfectly, how someone’s lips could be so soft and his kiss send electric bolts through your body. He kissed the insides of your legs softly, his touch was almost feather-like and you wanted to scream from the frustration his incessant teasing brought you. 
“Please, Joost.” You finally said in a drawn-out sigh. “Stop teasing.”
You felt yourself grow hot with intensity, a mix of emotions brewing inside of you from the way he laughed in response. He rested his cheek against your thigh, you looked down at his smiling face before he pressed a wet kiss against your clit, and before you could force out another word. You looked at the smug expression, the way his eyes met yours he knew that he had you wrapped around his finger. 
He propped your legs up on his shoulders and you felt all your senses muddle in the overwhelming pleasure that engulfed your body. Your jaw grew slack, murmuring incoherent praises as he ate you out. Your free hand tangled in his hair, being careful not to pull too hard. It was like actual strands of silk, pulled strings of thread that glistened against the soft light this man was nothing less of angelic. 
Yet there he was, face between your thighs and worshipping you. You felt the wetness drip from your thighs, his warm tongue teasing your clit as he continued to pump two of his fingers inside of you. When your legs began to grow weaker, the coil inside of your stomach becoming tighter, and begging for release he withdrew his hand and pushed your thighs apart to maintain his control of you. 
He knew you were close, you realized that you didn’t have to speak much with him. He focused on your clit and sucked down gently, drawing out the most beautiful, pathetic sounds from you as the tension grew unbearable. You had never come so hard, your eyes became wet with tears and the release was never so intense with anyone. Not when you were with past partners, and not when you were alone. It seemed to last for minutes, your entire body washed over with the most incredible feeling, tossing and turning you into bliss. 
Joost didn’t let you have a moment of rest, seeing you in this state, like hot metal in his hands he wanted to strike you when you were at your most vulnerable. He kissed you deeply, his tongue pushing into your mouth he wanted you to taste yourself. You kissed him back with the little strength you could muster up, biting his lip and pushing your tongue into his mouth. You stayed like that for a while, kissing passionately with almost no rhythm, just for the sake of touching each other. 
He pulled away, still keeping his nose pressed against yours. “I have to get my condoms.” He said a bit begrudgingly. 
You didn’t know what was coming over you, as you grabbed his arm and kept him on the bed so he wouldn’t leave. 
“I’m on birth control.” You assured him, desperately wanting to deprive yourself of nothing. You had already anticipated and accepted this would likely be the last time you’d get to fuck him. 
Joost realized how much of a mess he’d made on your bed, from how wet you were from taking his fingers and mouth to his pre cum dripping down his shaft and onto your sheets. He frowned a bit, maybe this was a dirty affair and he was kidding himself. He was so desperate for you he was certain he’d grow embarrassed at his lack of constraint, he wished he could’ve been a less needy lover. 
He pumped himself in his hand, and the wishes he had for more constraint again seemed to be nonsensical and burrowed into his mind. He watched you spread your legs for him, sleepy eyes looking up at him as your chest and cheeks were flushed with a deep blush. He lined himself up with your soaking pussy, pressing the tip inside he felt that he could die tonight and be happy. 
He fucked you softly until he could push himself inside of you completely. You were so tight, so perfect for him he let you wrap your legs around his waist so that he could fuck you slow and deep. He didn’t want to be rough, he loved how you embraced him fully. Your pussy squeezed against him, your legs wrapped around his waist, and your arms held his face against you as you peppered desperate kisses against his face.
Both your skin and his were now tacky with sweat. He fucked you perfectly, his cock nudging against the spot that made you squirm beneath him and numb your lower half with pleasure. You wondered if it was possible he could make you finish this way, from how he hugged you, kissed down your neck, and how he filled you up so well you wouldn’t be surprised. 
He was growing tired, fucking you sloppier with less coordination. He smoothed down your hair away from your face and whispered into your ear, 
“Can you get on top of me, baby?” He asked so sweetly you couldn’t live with yourself if you said no.
He pulled out slowly, taking your place on the bed. The apples of his cheeks were a deep red, his hair a bit disheveled as he made himself comfortable on the mountain of pillows you kept on your bed. 
“You’re so pretty.” He mumbled, his hands rubbing up and down your waist. 
His touch was so tender, the way he held you in place and helped you lower yourself onto him. You winced a bit at the stretch and gave him a weak smile, trying to keep your nerves from wondering if you could take it. 
It hurt so good, that you pressed your hands against his chest and moved up and down on his length. The room filled with the sounds of your pants, the sound of your pussy taking him and the way he groaned your name and warned you he was getting close. 
Joost felt himself lose his composure, it dwindled slowly as he was watching you ride him, your perfect tits in his face and the way your eyebrows knitted together in pleasure. It gave him such a rush knowing that it was because of him. He held you in a place as he bucked his hips up, fucking you from beneath and taking back the control he had relinquished. 
He had sat up, still keeping you on his lap to bring you into another smoldering kiss. He helped you to keep riding him, you were bounding up and down, holding onto his shoulders for support anticipating for him to finish inside of you. His head fell back as he bucked his hips up as much as you could manage, both of your movements grew harder, more desperate, and messy.
“I’m close.” He groaned, one arm hugging around your waist to press your body closer to his. “Oh, fuck baby.” He cried out in drawn-out whisper. 
He wouldn’t admit it, just like you, he’d never finished so intensely. It was perfect, drawn out like honey dripping down a spoon, the sweetness of the feeling and stickiness of both of your arousal against his thighs. He came with a pathetic string of moans, whimpering against your shoulder as he emptied himself inside of you. 
You’d never let a man do that before, but it felt like the first hit of a drug. You were hooked on the feeling. The intimacy was so intense, you felt perfectly intertwined with him and you felt the urge to tell him that you loved him it was so good. You two stayed like that for a minute, holding each other in a gentle embrace as your chests rose and dropped in deep breaths, calming down and weathering the storm of your shared passion.
“Can I sleep here?” He asked, breaking the silence. “Please.”
“Of course.” You answered breathlessly. “I just need another shower.” 
“Can I come with you?” He leaned over to kiss your cheek. “I’m tired, I promise.”
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this is a cross post from my ao3 :) send in requests for one shots if you’d like
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