#marvel x Reader

[urdreamydoodles]

Hello!!! I just found your page and yes I already I love your work!!

If it’s no trouble, may I ask for X-men characters with a Pregnant s/o headcanons? Like how they would be when you tell them you’re pregnant, how they are when you’re pregnant, and how they’d be during labor! 😵‍💫😵‍💫

Could I also ask it be with: Logan, Scott, Gambit, Ororo, Colossus, and Kurt??

If not it’s totally okay! Have a great rest of your day 💖💖

X-Men x Pregnant!Reader

How they handle your pregnancy

Each X-Man reacts differently to your pregnancy, from initial surprise and joy to unwavering support during labor, reflecting their unique personalities and love for you.

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Scott Summers, Ororo Munroe, Kurt Wagner, Colossus (+ my personal addition : Erik Lehnsherr, Wade Wilson, Wanda Maximoff & Pietro Maximoff)

Thank you for saying that, hearing that my work is liked makes me really happy, thank you ♡ And it's not a trouble at all — love the prompt! — Love, Marie, your friendly marvel fangirl

Logan Howlett (Wolverine)

When you tell Logan you’re pregnant, his initial reaction is a mix of shock and silence. For a moment, he’s frozen in place, his gruff exterior cracking just enough to reveal how truly taken aback he is by the news. He’s been through so much, lost so many people, and had so many regrets in his life that the thought of bringing a child into this world overwhelms him. But after a long, quiet moment, his eyes soften, and he gently places a hand on your stomach, the roughness of his calloused palm contrasting with the tenderness in his gesture. His voice, usually gruff and low, is quiet when he says, "I’ll protect both of ya… no matter what."

During your pregnancy, Logan becomes fiercely protective. He’s always been the protective type, but now it’s ramped up to an entirely different level. He doesn’t let you do anything that might risk your health or the baby’s, even if it’s something small like lifting a grocery bag. He makes sure you’re comfortable, constantly checking in with you—though he tries to act like he’s not worried. You often catch him watching you, eyes filled with a mix of awe and uncertainty. He tries not to hover, but you can see how much he cares. The moment you’re uncomfortable, he’s there, ready to do anything to help. His biggest fear, though he never outright says it, is that something will happen to you or the baby, so he keeps an almost obsessive eye on both of your well-being.

When labor begins, Logan is a mess of emotions. He’s usually the calm in any storm, but seeing you in pain makes him feel helpless in a way he’s not used to. He holds your hand, trying to keep you calm, though his own heart races. "I’m here, darlin’. You’re strong. You got this," he murmurs, pressing kisses to your forehead, staying close, trying to mask his own panic. When the baby finally comes, and he hears that first cry, tears fill his eyes. He never thought he could experience something so beautiful and terrifying at the same time. Logan would quietly hold the baby, marveling at the tiny life you both created, knowing he’s going to protect this child with everything he has.

Remy LeBeau (Gambit)

Telling Remy you’re pregnant is like lighting a firework. He’s always been a charmer, quick with a grin and a flirtatious quip, but when the news sinks in, his eyes light up with uncontainable excitement. "Mon dieu… I gon’ be a papa?" he says in disbelief, his signature grin widening as he pulls you into his arms. His hands immediately find your stomach, even if there’s no sign of the baby yet, and he plants a loving kiss on your lips. Remy is the kind of man who loves with his whole heart, and now, the idea of a family with you makes him feel like the luckiest man alive.

Throughout the pregnancy, Remy is absolutely doting. He spoils you beyond belief, making sure you have everything you need. He constantly brings you little gifts—flowers, chocolates, or even things for the baby—and he can’t help but talk to your belly every chance he gets, whispering sweet nothings in French. "Cher bébé, you gon’ have de best life wit’ us," he coos. He’s also incredibly playful, making jokes to keep your spirits high during the more uncomfortable parts of the pregnancy. If you’re feeling tired or sick, he’s quick to comfort you, but he does it with his usual playful charm. "You look beautiful, ma chérie, even wit’ a lil’ bump," he teases, kissing your cheek. Remy’s energy makes the whole experience feel lighter, more fun, and less daunting.

During labor, Remy’s usual calm and collected demeanor falters. He’s still his charming self, but there’s a frantic edge to his words as he holds your hand. "You okay, chérie? I’m right here wit’ you," he reassures, though you can see the worry in his eyes. He’s not used to seeing you in pain, and it shakes him more than he thought it would. As the labor progresses, he stays by your side, whispering sweet encouragements in French and English, never letting go of your hand. When the baby finally arrives, he’s completely overwhelmed, tears of joy running down his face as he holds your child for the first time. "Our lil’ miracle," he says softly, his heart full to bursting with love for both you and the baby.

Scott Summers (Cyclops)

When you tell Scott you’re pregnant, he’s stunned, standing still for a long moment as he processes the news. Scott, being the logical and responsible leader he is, has always thought about the future and the possibility of a family, but hearing it from you makes it real in a way that both excites and terrifies him. "We’re… we’re going to be parents?" he asks, his voice soft with disbelief before his arms wrap around you tightly. You can see the joy in his face, mixed with the weight of responsibility that’s already setting in. He’s already planning everything in his mind—how he’ll protect you, the future he’ll build for the three of you, ensuring that you and the baby are always safe.

Throughout your pregnancy, Scott is incredibly attentive and thoughtful. He’s the type to read all the parenting books, meticulously prepare for every scenario, and ensure that you’re comfortable and healthy at all times. He schedules every doctor’s appointment, makes sure you’re eating well, and insists that you take things easy. He’s also incredibly emotional during this time, though he tries to hide it. You often catch him looking at you with a softness in his eyes, one hand resting protectively on your stomach. "I love you so much," he says out of the blue one night, his voice filled with quiet awe. Scott takes everything seriously, and your pregnancy is no exception—he’s already planning how to be the best father he can be.

When the day of labor arrives, Scott is calm and composed, but you can feel the tension rolling off him in waves. He’s a natural leader, but this is out of his control, and it scares him more than he’ll admit. He holds your hand the entire time, murmuring words of encouragement, but there’s a tightness in his voice that betrays his worry. "You’re doing great, we’re almost there," he says, though you can tell he’s just as nervous as you are. When the baby is born, Scott is overcome with emotion. He’s usually so controlled, but in this moment, tears stream down his face as he holds your newborn in his arms. "We did it," he whispers, looking between you and the baby with a sense of awe and love so profound it leaves him speechless.

Ororo Munroe (Storm)

When you tell Ororo you’re pregnant, her reaction is calm yet filled with quiet joy. She has always been a steady presence, and that doesn’t change even in a moment as life-altering as this. You watch as her eyes widen slightly, and she takes a deep breath, letting it out with a smile that’s filled with nothing but love. "A child," she says softly, as if testing the words out on her lips before she steps closer, pulling you into a tender embrace. She kisses your forehead, her fingers gently brushing your stomach. "We will raise them together with the strength of the earth, the wind, and the skies," she whispers, her voice filled with a quiet reverence for this new journey you’re about to embark on together.

During the pregnancy, Ororo is a pillar of strength and grace. She watches over you with care, making sure you feel supported and at peace throughout. Her connection to nature allows her to sense even the smallest changes in your well-being, and she’s quick to help ease any discomfort you feel. She spends hours talking to your growing belly, whispering stories of the world, of the sky, and the beauty of the elements. Her presence is soothing, and she brings you peace in moments where the discomforts of pregnancy are hardest to bear. At night, she holds you close, her hands resting protectively on your stomach, often saying a quiet prayer to the earth for your safety. "You and our child are my heart," she says softly one evening as you drift off to sleep, her love for you as powerful as the storms she commands.

When the time comes for labor, Ororo is a calming force by your side. Even as the pain begins, she stays with you, her hand in yours, reminding you to breathe, to focus on the world around you. "Feel the wind, my love, let it guide you," she murmurs, her voice steady as she helps you through each contraction. You find yourself drawing strength from her presence, her deep connection to the elements grounding you. When the baby finally arrives, she cradles the tiny life in her arms with such tenderness that it brings tears to your eyes. "Welcome to the world, little one," she whispers, her eyes filled with awe and love. Ororo knows this is a moment of great power, not just in the birth of your child, but in the creation of a family bound by love and strength.

Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler)

When you tell Kurt you’re pregnant, his first reaction is pure, unfiltered joy. His golden eyes light up, and in an instant, he’s pulling you into a tight embrace, his tail curling around you protectively. "Mein Gott! You are serious, ja?" he asks, his excitement palpable. When you nod, he lets out a delighted laugh, teleporting you both into the air for a brief moment in his excitement before bringing you back down gently. He cups your face in his hands, pressing kisses all over your cheeks and lips, his happiness absolutely infectious. "I am going to be a papa?!" he repeats, as if he can’t quite believe it, but the pure joy on his face shows that he couldn’t be happier. He immediately begins to talk about your future together, about how he’ll be the best father, about how lucky the child will be to have you as their mother.

Throughout your pregnancy, Kurt is an absolute ball of energy and love. He’s always fussing over you, making sure you’re comfortable, making sure you’re happy, and doing everything he can to make you smile. He talks to your belly constantly, telling your baby stories of his own childhood, sharing his love for adventure and his deep faith. "You will be loved, little one. So very loved," he whispers often, his tail lightly wrapping around you as he presses his head to your stomach. Despite his own rough upbringing, Kurt is determined to make sure your child is raised with nothing but love and joy. He’s so excited for every little milestone, constantly asking how you’re feeling, and making sure that you never feel alone or overwhelmed. He even starts knitting baby clothes in his spare time, determined to create something personal for your child.

When labor begins, Kurt is nervous but tries his best to stay calm for your sake. He teleports in and out of the room, fetching things, bringing you water, doing anything he can to help. "You are so strong, meine liebe, you’ve got this," he says, though you can see the nervous energy in him as he paces slightly. When things get intense, he stays by your side, holding your hand tightly, his usual calm demeanor replaced with pure awe at what’s happening. The moment the baby is born, Kurt is overwhelmed with emotion. Tears fill his golden eyes as he looks at the tiny life you’ve created together. "Our little miracle," he whispers in awe, his tail brushing gently against the baby’s tiny hand as he cradles them carefully. His heart is full, knowing that this is the start of a new, beautiful chapter for your family.

Piotr Rasputin (Colossus)

When you tell Piotr you’re pregnant, his first reaction is one of quiet shock. His gentle nature has always been a core part of who he is, but the idea of becoming a father leaves him momentarily speechless. He stares at you for a moment, as if processing the magnitude of what you just said. Then, slowly, a smile breaks across his face, and his massive arms gently pull you into a warm, protective embrace. "We are going to have a child?" he asks, his voice soft and filled with wonder. His metal form, cold to the touch, somehow feels comforting as he holds you close, his hands resting gently on your stomach. "I… I will do everything to protect you and our child," he promises, his deep voice filled with determination and love.

Throughout your pregnancy, Piotr becomes an even more protective and attentive partner. He’s already used to being careful with his strength around you, but now he’s even more cautious, always making sure you’re comfortable and safe. He spends hours drawing and painting, creating art that reflects the love and joy he feels for you and the baby. His gentle nature shines through as he constantly checks in with you, making sure you’re well-rested, eating enough, and not doing anything that could put strain on you or the baby. "You should rest, moya lyubov’," he says softly, offering you a cup of tea or a warm blanket whenever you look the least bit uncomfortable. He talks about the future often, about how he wants to raise the child with the same love and care his family gave him, how he wants to teach them to be strong but gentle, like him.

When labor begins, Piotr is a bundle of nerves beneath his calm exterior. His metal form shifts, and you can see the tension in his usually composed demeanor. He stays by your side, holding your hand gently, though you can tell he’s trying not to show just how worried he is. "I am here, love, you are so strong," he says softly, his voice a low rumble as he reassures you throughout the process. As the labor progresses, he’s there every step of the way, doing whatever he can to help. When the baby is finally born, Piotr is overwhelmed with emotion. He carefully cradles the tiny life in his large, metal arms, his eyes shining with tears as he looks at you with pure love. "Our family," he whispers, his deep voice filled with awe and devotion. "You have given me everything."

Erik Lehnsherr (Magneto)

When you tell Erik you’re pregnant, his initial reaction is one of deep, contemplative silence. You watch as the weight of the news settles over him like a heavy cloak, and for a brief moment, there’s an unreadable look in his sharp eyes. He’s always been a man burdened by the past, his life filled with loss and pain. But then, his expression softens, and he reaches out to touch your face, his fingers trembling ever so slightly. "A child," he murmurs, almost as if he’s afraid to believe it. Slowly, a smile tugs at the corners of his lips, and he pulls you into a tight embrace, burying his face in your hair. "We will give them the world," he promises, his voice low and filled with the intensity that only Erik can bring. Though you can tell the news has stirred up memories of his past, the joy he feels for this future with you is undeniable.

During the pregnancy, Erik becomes fiercely protective, bordering on overbearing at times. He’s always been a man who values control, and now that you’re carrying his child, that instinct is heightened tenfold. He monitors everything, making sure you’re safe, making sure you’re comfortable, and making sure nothing threatens you or the baby. His magnetic abilities become almost a subconscious part of how he protects you, moving objects out of your way before you even realize they’re there, adjusting the temperature of the room without a second thought. Despite his intensity, there’s a tenderness in the way he speaks to your belly, as though he’s already trying to form a connection with your unborn child. "You will be strong," he says one evening, his hand resting on your stomach. "I will make sure of it."

When labor begins, Erik is calm but incredibly focused. He’s been through many battles in his life, but this is something different—a battle of a more personal kind. He stays by your side, his hand gripping yours tightly, though you can see the tension in his jaw as he tries to remain composed. "You can do this, my love," he says, his voice steady despite the worry in his eyes. As the contractions grow stronger, he channels his abilities to make the environment as soothing as possible, dimming the lights, adjusting the metal fixtures in the room to make everything feel more comfortable for you. When the baby is finally born, Erik is silent for a long moment, staring at the tiny life you’ve both created. Then, without a word, he takes the child in his arms, his eyes filled with a rare vulnerability as he gazes down at them. "I never thought I would have this again," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you."

Wade Wilson (Deadpool)

When you tell Wade you’re pregnant, his reaction is, unsurprisingly, over the top. He stares at you with wide eyes, his mouth hanging open comically for a moment before he suddenly breaks into a huge grin. "Are you serious?!" he shouts, throwing his arms in the air and spinning around in excitement. He grabs you and starts bouncing you up and down, all the while chattering on about how you’re going to have the coolest kid in the world. "Oh man, this is going to be awesome! Our little baby Wadelette, or Wadelino!" His excitement is infectious, and though his humor never stops, you can tell there’s genuine love and excitement behind his wild antics. He talks about everything from baby names to what kind of mini-costume the kid will wear, all while being completely and utterly himself.

During the pregnancy, Wade is a chaotic but devoted partner. He’s constantly hovering, making ridiculous jokes to keep your spirits up, and finding the weirdest ways to pamper you. "You’re eating for two now! Gotta keep that belly happy!" he’d say, handing you a tray of the strangest food combinations you’ve ever seen. Wade has a way of making even the most uncomfortable moments of pregnancy into something funny, but when the serious moments hit, he’s surprisingly thoughtful. He talks to your belly in exaggerated voices, telling the baby stories of his adventures and promising to be the best (and weirdest) dad ever. Though he can’t quite stop being himself, you know that beneath all the humor, Wade is completely committed to you and the baby.

When labor hits, Wade is... well, Wade. He’s running around like a madman, alternately panicking and cracking jokes to try and keep things light. "Okay, okay, I’ve got this! I’ve fought ninjas, I’ve blown up buildings, how hard can this be?!" he says, though the genuine concern in his eyes gives him away. As things progress, he becomes a little more serious, holding your hand and whispering words of encouragement between his nervous ramblings. When the baby is finally born, Wade is struck speechless for once in his life. He stares down at the tiny bundle in awe, his usual mask of humor slipping as he gently takes the baby in his arms. "Holy crap," he whispers, his voice barely above a breath. "We made a tiny person." He looks at you with wide eyes, his usual bravado replaced with pure, unfiltered love.

Wanda Maximoff (Scarlet Witch)

When you tell Wanda you’re pregnant, her initial reaction is one of quiet, overwhelmed emotion. You watch as her eyes fill with tears, her hands trembling as she reaches out to touch your face. "A baby?" she whispers, her voice filled with disbelief. For Wanda, this news is a dream she never thought possible, a hope she had long since buried beneath the weight of her complicated life. She pulls you into a gentle embrace, holding you close as she tries to process the enormity of what this means for the both of you. Her powers flicker around her, responding to her heightened emotions, but she calms herself quickly, pressing her forehead to yours. "I never thought I would have this chance," she says softly. "But now… now we can have a family."

Throughout the pregnancy, Wanda is a bundle of emotions—both excitement and worry. She’s incredibly protective, her powers always at the ready to keep you and the baby safe, but there’s an underlying fear that something could go wrong. Despite her concerns, she embraces the experience fully, surrounding you with warmth and love. She spends hours researching everything about pregnancy, reading books, and using her magic to ensure you and the baby are healthy. She talks to your belly every night, using her magic to create little illusions of what she imagines your child might look like. "You will be so loved," she whispers to your stomach, her hands gently resting over the growing life inside you. Despite the fears that linger in the back of her mind, Wanda finds joy in the journey, grateful for the chance to experience this with you.

When labor begins, Wanda is nervous but focused. She holds your hand, her magic swirling around the room in gentle pulses, trying to ease your pain and keep you calm. "You’re so strong," she says, her voice soft but full of conviction. "I’m here with you." As the contractions intensify, Wanda uses her powers to help as much as she can without interfering too much, guiding you through the pain with a steady hand and reassuring words. When the baby is finally born, Wanda is overwhelmed with emotion. She cradles the newborn in her arms, tears streaming down her face as she gazes at the life you’ve created together. "Our child," she whispers, her voice filled with awe. "I can’t believe it… they’re perfect."

Pietro Maximoff (Quicksilver)

When you tell Pietro you’re pregnant, his reaction is fast—literally. He zooms around the room at breakneck speed, his excitement palpable as he tries to process the news. "Wait, wait, wait—seriously? I’m going to be a dad?!" he exclaims, coming to a sudden stop in front of you with wide eyes and a grin that stretches from ear to ear. He’s so thrilled that he can barely stand still, constantly moving from one side of the room to the other, muttering excitedly to himself about baby names, future races, and all the things he’ll teach your child. "They’re gonna be fast, I just know it!" he says, already imagining a little speedster following in his footsteps. His excitement is contagious, and though he can be overwhelming at times, you know that Pietro’s joy is genuine and heartfelt.

During the pregnancy, Pietro is both attentive and hilariously impatient. He’s constantly zipping around, checking on you, fetching things, and making sure you’re comfortable. "You need anything? Water? Snacks? Foot rub?" he asks at lightning speed, already halfway out the door before you can answer. His energy is boundless, and though it can be a bit much at times, you appreciate how much he cares. Pietro is always talking to your belly, encouraging the baby to hurry up and grow faster. "Come on, little one, we’re all waiting for you!" he says with a grin, pressing a kiss to your stomach. Despite his impatience, Pietro is incredibly sweet, and he does everything he can to make sure you feel loved and supported throughout the entire process.

When labor begins, Pietro is a whirlwind of nervous energy. He’s constantly pacing, moving from one side of the room to the other, his speed betraying his anxiety. "You’re doing great, babe, really great!" he says, though his voice is tinged with nervousness. He tries to stay calm for your sake, but you can tell he’s on edge, desperate for everything to go smoothly. When the baby is finally born, Pietro’s world comes to a complete standstill for the first time in his life. The moment they place the baby in his arms, everything around him slows, and for once, he’s not in a rush to go anywhere. He stares down at your newborn child, his usual cocky smirk replaced with a look of pure awe and disbelief. "Wow," he whispers, his voice soft and reverent. "I… we made this." His hands, usually moving a mile a minute, are gentle as he cradles the baby close, eyes wide with wonder as he examines every little detail of their face.

[spellboundtales]

FIC REC - the Wolverine

had to make this, because my obsession with this man is unbelievable

🩰 hurt/comfort

🧸Fluff

🦋angst

🌺smut

🩰🧸🌺This is Ours by @d1stalker || reader spends the summer at her grandparent's farm but they hired a new farmhand: Logan. slowburn and feelings arise!! when i tell you this was one of my fav fics EVER.....

🧸a little redecorating by @halohalona || reader in the middle of the night decides to rearrange the living room, Logan helps her. very domesticc and fluffy, this melt my heart

🩰🧸say yes to heaven by @happy74827 || Grumpy!Logan x Sunshsine!Reader OMG when i tell you I CRIED AND MY HEART WAS HEALED reading this....

🩰🧸🌺ice breaker by @happy74827 || Logan saves reader's life, the aftermath results in a lot of feelings and...getting really warm. I ADORED THIS

🩰🧸snapdragons mean i'm sorry by @thebestandworstdayofjune || reader owns a flowershop and is friend with Wade and Logan, everything's great until reader hears Logan saying something...

🌺GUILTY PLEASURE by @joelsgoldrush || bartender!reader meets worst!Logan. guys when i tell you this is amazing...

🦋🩰🌺GIVE ME THE FIRST TASTE BY @joelsgoldrush || sequel to Guilty pleasure, just perfect.

🩰🌺Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby by @imaginedisish || Logan's alwaye being friendly with reader...maybe there's more than some friendly gestures...?

🩰Breathless by @i5uckersblog || Reader has a sudden health scare and Logan is there to help. I LOVED THIS

🧸the kids waking you up in the morning by @fandomxo00 || this healed me.

🧸holding hands with Logan by @ohtobeleah || this is so short and sweet, i cried

🧸this headcanon by @witchyy-kittyy ||it's just pure fluff with a bf!Logan

🧸pretty in pink by @starkwlkr || so sweet dad!Logan for his daughter's birthday party. guess what? i cried reading this

🧸it's a gift (you keep those) by @celestiamour ||giving Logan a plushie that reminds you of him. THIS IS SO SWEET DRDXCFGVBHJG

🩰🧸Logan meeting reader's parents by @boltwrites || Logan meets reader's parents...what will happen?

🧸just the two of us by @starkwlkr || some domestic Logan, very sweet

🌺Inside Out by @@imaginedisish || post intense battle with Logan...this had me on my knees

🌺Lover, you should've come over by @imaginedisish || pining after Logan with the convinction he's obsessed with Jean..or maybe he's not?

🩰🧸🌺Time After Time by @hyper-fixates || 4 times reader is in Logan's bed plus 1 time he finally goes for it

🌺What's That Smell? by @slushycoookie || Wade meddling with Reader and Logan's sexual life..also wade gifting reader Pheromone Perfume and Logan losing it

🌺Honey - Honey II - Honey III by @bpmiranda || Sunshine!readerr with smalla town reclusse!Logan...omg this short series had me squeaking and giggling...toe curling smut.

🦋🩰🌺Keep Up! by @iggyywrites || neighbour!Reader is friend with Wade... with a huge crush on Logan. this is a rollercoaster of emotions i sweare i loved every single word. also the wade's characterization? chef kiss

🌺older by @lostalioth || reader calls Logan old, and he's determined to show her he's not

🦋🩰🌺from eden by @eupheme || old man logan x mutant!reader...this is just...perfect. read it.

🦋🩰🌺never is a promise by @joelsgoldrush || old man logan x charles' caretaker reader. slow burn, misunderstadings, smut...OMYGOD THIS!!!

🌺the Devil and I by @mystra-midnight || this is an hymn to smut.

🩰🧸taste by @poorly-written-fiction || ex boyfriend logan??? he's with jean but his kisses taste like...you... GOD THIS!!

🧸Magnetic by @reddesires || does magnets stick on Wolverine? let's find out! this is so funny i swear-

🌺burning slow by @eupheme || this is a logan x inexperienced reader this is so sweet, i need him now.

🩰🌺loving him was never enough by @wyniepooh || cagefighter!Logan? sign me up.

🩰🌺shouldn't have by @atrwriting || reader has a really shitty boyfriend, thank god Logan saves the day (in more ways than one)

🩰second nature by @d1stalker || reader is saved by Logan who then takes her in. feelings arise, but so will misunderstandings.

🧸Suspension Bridge Effect by @d1stalker || reader saves another mutant who now is in love with her...Logan is slightly jealous

🌺Marks by @bpmiranda || reader is running away from Sabertooth, and Logan helps her out... the smut here....chills

🩰🌺sweet like honey by @bruhstories || baker reader and Logan saving her...he likes to go to his favorite bar that happens to be across reader's bakery

alright lovelies, my wolverine's obssession is not over so i'll prob update thisss (also i still need to read some Old Man Logan fics.. soo i'll keep you update)

have a loooovely day, week, month, year💐🌷

kisses😽😽😽

[avocado-writing]

For the prompts: ‘sharing a blanket. snuggled up together.’ with Logan ?

That man deserves the most domestic of cuddles ♥️

Logan gets home from work late to find you shivering on the couch, staunchly wrapped up in a jumper and staring determinedly at the tv like your jaw isn’t chattering. It’s equal parts cute and ridiculous, if he’s honest.

He puts his jacket down with enough force that you jump and turn to him, unable to hear him until now over the clatter of your teeth. He raises an eyebrow at you.

“Cold?”

“Of course I’m not!” you lie. He sighs to himself. You are so determined not to turn the heat on until you really need it, like you’re waging a one-person war against the power company. It’s kinda admirable - after all, it’d be the pot calling the kettle black if accused you of being stubborn - but he doesn’t like to see you uncomfortable.

Toeing off his boots, Logan crosses the living room towards you, grabbing the gingham fleece you’ve had for years now and slinging it across his shoulder in order to leave his arms free for scooping you up. You yelp at being manhandled but don’t complain any more than that, letting him place you into his lap and cover you both with the blanket.

He knows he runs hot. More than once you’ve called him your own hot water bottle, so when he wraps his arms around you it’s natural you snuggle yourself into his warmth. Your face buries into the heated skin of his neck and you make a contended little noise, almost like a purr.

“Sure you’re not a little chilly, baby?”

You grumble, tucking your legs into the cocoon he’s made for you both.

“You’ll never get me to confess,” you mutter. “Besides, I always like the ideas you have to warm me up…”

Your hand goes wandering. Logan grins.

[romanoffshouse]

Yelena: Sorry I'm late.

Natasha: What happened?

Yelena: Nothing, I just really didn't want to come.

[imagine-you]

don't turn your back on me [old man logan/reader]

Summary: "You would always remember the night the X-Men fell, because it was also the night you lost Logan." The first in a series of spinoffs from my main fic in my Home 'verse that explores different Wolverine variants and their relationships with the reader in their universes. Word Count: 6.3k Author's Notes: This isn't so much based on the movie Logan as it is the comic series Old Man Logan. In that series, it's Logan who kills the X-Men and not Professor X. Next up: Marvel Zombies/What If? crossover with zombified Wolverine and side Bucky/Reader for Halloween!

Read on AO3

You would always remember the night the X-Men fell, because it was also the night you lost Logan.  

You knew something was wrong before you even stepped through the doors of the mansion. It was late, but the mansion had never been so eerily still. It was always so full of life at every hour, with chatter and laughter and yelling. 

You weren't expecting the first body sprawled on the floor of the foyer. You fell to your knees, reaching out a shaky hand to feel for a sign of life, but it was pointless.  

Scott was dead.  

You weren't sure how long you stayed there, staring at him, before you realized he wasn't the only body. You followed the trail of fallen through the hallways of the mansion, dizzy and disoriented. You hadn't been gone for long, only a few hours. But how had you come back to this? How could any of this have happened? 

There was a shifting in your periphery, someone walking along the edge of the room, but your attention was caught by something else.  

It was Logan.  

You felt your breath leave you all in a rush at the sight before you. Logan, claws deep in Ororo's chest, snarling in her face as the life drained from her.  

"Logan?" 

Your voice sounded small, terrified, and for a moment you didn't even realize it was yours. Your heart was pounding as he slowly turned his gaze on you. He looked nearly feral, completely unaware of his surroundings. The man you loved more than anyone else would have never hurt Ororo or Scott no matter how much he fought with him. The man you loved wouldn't be getting to his feet, his claws still unsheathed, as he began to approach you. The man you loved wouldn't dare raise a hand, ready to sink his claws into you, his expression clouded with fury.  

"Victor," he snarled, poised to strike. "I should've known you'd be in on this," he spat before slashing down.  

You were quick to raise a forcefield, holding it in front of you like a shield to fend off his attack. He kept advancing, his movements frenzied as he tried to land a blow.  

All the while, there was that awareness at the edge of your vision. It was bothering you, but you couldn't take your eyes off Logan. He was single-minded in his attack, and he kept trying to break through your barrier.  

"Logan!" You shouted, hoping to get through to him. "Logan, it's me," you pleaded, keeping your defenses raised.  

You had a feeling that your current tactic wasn't going to work. Not if you wanted to figure out why the hell Logan had killed so many of his own team, his family, and why he thought you were Victor. So, you let yourself go invisible, quickly dropping your forcefield and moving off to the side.  

Logan stumbled forward, his claws getting momentarily stuck in the wall, before he pulled them free.  

"You can't hide from me, Victor," he roared, anger written into the lines of his body.  

You kept yourself hidden, not wanting to let Logan find you before you could figure out what the hell was going on. It was there, just on the edge of your vision, a shimmer of air that begged to be uncovered.  

You were so focused on finding the intruder that you backed right into a table, sending a vase toppling off the side. The sound of it crashing to the floor was loud, jarringly loud, in the room and Logan's eyes unerringly fixed on you.  

"There you are," he growled, his claws catching the light and sending your heart racing. "You won't get away from me that easily," he continued, his fist pulled back, poised to bring his claws down right into your throat.  

You managed to finally snag the anomaly in a forcefield, easily crushing it between one beat of your heart and the next. The tips of Logan's claws had just brushed against your throat when he reeled back, blinking at you in alarm.  

"Y/N? What the hell is going on? Where's Victor?" 

"Logan, look at me," you said, reaching out to cup his face in your hands, not wanting him to see the destruction that had befallen the mansion. You knew once he realized what happened, once he saw the bodies, he would lose it all over again. For now, you needed him here with you. "Victor was never here. I don't know what he showed you, but it wasn't your fault, okay?" 

"What?" Logan's brow furrowed in confusion, and he tried to turn his head, but you held firm. He could have easily shaken you off, but he seemed to realize it was what you needed from him. "Who? What are you talking about? They all showed up and just started attacking. I got most of them, I think, but--" 

"Mysterio," you blurted, recognizing the cape and glass shards of his helmet. Wade had always called him the magic fishbowl, but you couldn't even find humor in it now. "Mysterio must've created an illusion," you started to explain, not knowing how to keep your voice even. Your hands were shaking as you held his face, and you could feel tears begin to well in your eyes. You didn't know the extent of the damage, but the blood that coated nearly every surface didn't bode well for the team.  

"What," Logan snapped, finally tearing free of your hold. "But I got the young ones out. And then the team disappeared and then...and then...," he froze, his eyes finally taking in the outcome of his unintentional slaughter. "But it wasn't them," he muttered, his eyes focused in on the blood that had pooled beneath Jubilee's head. "It wasn't them, I swear," he said before he turned away from you. He cried out in anguish before falling to his knees. His head fell into his hands, and you could see his shoulders begin to shake.  

You shuffled forward, making sure to not make any sudden movements. You reached out a hand, briefly landing it on Logan's shoulder, but he shook you off.  

"Don't touch me," he snarled, snapping his head up. He looked over his shoulder in your direction but wouldn't make eye contact. "I did this." 

It sounded final, a revelation that would change Logan forever, and you knew he was starting to slip away from you.  

"Logan, it wasn't your fault. Mysterio tricked you and you couldn't have--" 

"I did this," Logan insisted, staring down at the blood on his hands. Suddenly, he was on his feet, and his hands were ripping at his uniform. He was half-naked by the time he turned a wild look on you before he was gone, storming out of the mansion.  

"Logan," you pleaded, following after him. You couldn't look at the bodies anymore and you couldn't stay at the mansion. Logan had always been your home, your everything, and you couldn't let him leave you now.  

By the time you got outside, there was no sign of Logan anywhere. You spotted something on the ground, and you bent down to pick it up. It was a scrap of his X-Men uniform, left abandoned and forgotten. You held it close to your chest before you took a few steps forward, eyeing the forest that bordered the property.  

Logan was somewhere in there and you intended to find him.  

Rumors and stories haunted you during the years you spent on Logan's trail. He never stayed in one place for too long, fleeing from location to location, as if the death he so easily craved was on his heels.  

You supposed, in a way, that was true.  

Logan refused to pop his claws. He didn't want to fight, all of his desire to be a hero had been torn out of him the night he unknowingly felled the X-Men. He suffered by himself, knowing that he couldn't die, so he would have to live with the memories of his team, his family dead.  

You wanted to take him by the shoulders and scream at him that you were still alive. He wasn't to blame for what happened to the X-Men, but he was to blame for what happened between the two of you. Did any of it mean so little to him? Did he really think you thought so little of him? Had the proposal and the promises of a future together simply vanish along with him the night that changed everything?  

You truly had nothing except for the small, brittle hope you were harboring that Logan would finally just stop running. So, you kept chasing him and cleaning up his messes along the way, because you felt like it was all you could do.  Logan was yours, the one person in the whole world that you knew was just for you. He had promised, with stolen kisses before you had to run off to teach mutant history or when he pressed you down into your bedsheets ready to wreck you in the best way, that you were his too.  

The fact that he never once looked back, never stayed in one place too long just to try to see if you could catch up, hurt more than you had words to describe.  

When the heroes fell, the villains rose. The country changed, becoming a playground for every human, mutant, and alien with villainous intent. Fear permeated the air everywhere you went, people terrified for their lives and their families, knowing that no one was coming to save them.  

During those years, you became known as Logan's shadow. Logan was no longer the Wolverine and wouldn't dare flash his claws, but you would happily wield whatever weapon necessary to make sure no one went after him. Where Logan went, death followed, because it fell on you to leave the body count in his wake.  

You saved people and gave them their livelihoods back, because you would never have yours again. You killed slumlords and murderers and anyone who sought joy from destruction, because it was people like them who had stolen your future with Logan from you. You watched Logan's back from afar and craved his touch, his look, his assurance, but going without every time.  

You had scars that would never heal and new terrors to haunt you in the night, but all you wanted was him. You felt like you were going insane, relentlessly chasing something you might never have again, but you found it difficult to relinquish hope.  

 You figured sooner or later, you would get lucky. If only for a moment, you just wanted to be in the same room as him. You wanted to walk into a space without knowing that you had missed him by only minutes before having to run after him again.  

You lucked out years down the line after taking out one of Norman Osborn's lackies in an abandoned warehouse district. You were in Osborn County, near what used to be Detroit, when you heard Logan's gruff voice coming from one of the buildings. He sounded tired, wrecked, and there was someone else's voice taunting him.  

"Can't get little Wolverine to come and play, can I? Too bad he's not here to join the party, because it's about to get real fun," the voice crowed before you heard a new voice.  

"Please! He's all I have," a woman begged, her voice breaking into a sob.  

You had been tracking Logan for long enough that you knew he was usually alone. So, you didn’t know how he had managed to stick around long enough to see the damage you were about to do. It was the usual routine for you two. Trouble found Logan, Logan fled, and you swept in and took care of the problem.  

This wasn’t at all how it was supposed to go, and you felt a little thrill of anticipation run through you at the thought of seeing him.  

You hadn’t been this close to him in years, and you wondered why he was still hanging around. You weren't sure if it was where he had been crashing before moving on, but now as you were trying to get a glimpse into the building, you could see a makeshift camp in the corner of the room.  

Logan was on his knees, glaring at someone, and when you shifted to the side, you could see a man with a knife to a kid's throat. He didn't look older than fifteen, tears streaming down his face as he stared death down. There was also a woman with another guy behind her, holding a gun to her head.  

"Just kill me," the woman begged, holding her hands out. “Kill me and let him go. He doesn’t deserve to die.” 

"You don't pay us and now we kill your boy," the guy behind her spat. "And lookie here, we've got a live audience," he nodded over at Logan. "'cept he's not gonna do anything, 'cause he's a chickenshit now." 

Logan looked so defeated and you knew he was struggling with himself. He wanted to help the woman and her son, but he was done killing. You watched him for a moment, so relieved to even just see him, despite the circumstances.  

Logan drew in a deep breath before his head snapped up, his eyes meeting yours where you were still hidden in the darkness. He took another breath, and you knew he had caught your scent. His expression morphed from disbelief to heartbreak to acceptance. He dipped his head in a tiny nod, silently giving you the go ahead.  

You stepped out of the shadows that had shielded you, shedding your invisibility, and smirked at the two guys who had landed themselves on your target list.  

"He might not do anything," you started, forming a forcefield around the one with the knife. "But I sure as hell will." 

"What the hell?" The one with the gun gasped, turning it on you.  

You easily deflected the bullet with a forcefield while you trapped the guy with the knife. You snapped your forcefield closed, only his hand holding the knife free outside of it, and watched it fall to the ground. Blood began to coat the sides of your forcefield while the guy screamed in agony.  

You formed another forcefield around the gun in the other guy's hand and jerked it free, watching him stumble in an attempt to pull it back. It clattered uselessly to the floor, several feet away and out of reach.  

You let another forcefield encase the guy's head, offering him a goodbye wave, before you let the sides collapse, taking his skull with it. His body fell to the ground, limbs still uselessly twitching, as the field held the remnants of his brain and bones and eyes. You let it all fall to the floor with a grotesque splat before turning your attention on the other guy who was still mourning the loss of his hand.  

The woman had grabbed her son and was clutching at his shoulders, desperately trying to prove to herself that he was unharmed. Once she was satisfied, she pulled him close and then fled for the door, not even sparing a glance back as you pried the knife from the guy's disembodied hand.  

You turned towards the man still in your forcefield and let it drop. He raised his head to sneer up at you.  

"You'll regret this," he claimed, falling back onto the floor. "People are payin' attention to you! You can't just do whatever the hell you want." 

"Yeah, whatever," you sighed, before taking the knife and striking out with it, catching him in the chest.  

You watched the man die, his blood pooling at your feet, before you turned your attention towards the other man snared in one of your forcefields.  

Logan's shoulders were slumped as you approached him.  

"Don't," he sighed, shaking his head. He was kneeling on the floor, leaning his forehead against your forcefield, but he wasn't actively trying to escape.  

He knew it would be a useless endeavor.  

You took a precious moment to catalogue all the little differences you noticed since the last time you saw him. His hair now had a couple of streaks of grey and the lines in his face were more pronounced. Logan had started to age, just the tiniest bit, and you hated that you had missed the opportunity to see him evolve over the years. It was another thing he had denied you and you didn’t know if you would ever fully forgive him for it.  

"I've waited years for this moment," you reminded him, sinking to your knees so you were at his level. "I'm not going anywhere, Logan, and until you hear me out, you aren't either." 

Logan had his eyes closed, but he finally opened them to meet yours. "What do you want?" 

You let out a humorless laugh, reaching a hand out to place it against the forcefield.  

"You," you answered, because it should have been obvious. "I've only ever wanted you, but you don't want me. Not anymore. Or else you wouldn't have run from me. Not for ten fucking years." 

Logan snorted, sitting back enough to give you a disbelieving look. "I've always wanted you," he refuted, briefly letting the want and longing he had been suppressing flash across his face. "But I don't deserve you. Not after what I did." 

"I don't blame you," you assured him, your hands beginning to tremble. You wanted so badly to reach out and pull him into your arms, but you were scared to drop your forcefield. He would run away again, and you were tired of him leaving you in the dust. "I wouldn't have chased you all these years if I thought for one second that you were to blame." 

"Let me go," he begged you. "I'm not that guy anymore. I can't be that guy for you anymore." 

"Yes, you can," you hissed, anger starting to rise, overtaking desperation. "I don't want Wolverine, I've only ever wanted you, Logan. You don't have to be a hero again, but I just want you with me. Isn't that enough? Just us?" 

Logan wouldn't meet your eyes, and you crashed your fist into your forcefield, hating that he wouldn't even look at you. Your heart was breaking all over again and a part of you was starting to wish you hadn't caught up to him at all.  

"Stop being a coward," you snarled, getting to your feet. You turned your back on Logan and walked away from him, relishing the idea of making him chase after you for once. "You're not the only one in pain," you reminded him. "You're not the only one who lost their entire family that night. But the difference between us is you chose to run away from me, but I didn't want that. I never wanted you to leave me, but you didn't even give me the fucking choice." Your hands were clenched into fists at your sides, and you could barely keep them from shaking. "You know what," you started, finally making your decision. "If you want to go, then you can fucking leave again." You dropped your forcefield, keeping your back to him. You didn't know what was more pathetic. That you couldn't watch him abandon you again or that you knew you would still follow him once he was gone.  

You weren't prepared for Logan's hand on your shoulder or when he turned you around to look at him. His expression was a mix of despair and frustration and want.  

"You want me that much?" He got out between gritted teeth. "You want the guy who murdered our family? Who has only ever thought of you this whole time and what was best for you?" 

"That’s a bullshit excuse and you know it. If you gave a shit about me, you would stop running," you seethed at him. "The guy who murdered our family is dead, because I fucking killed him! All you've done for the past ten years is run, Logan. Aren't you fucking tired of running?" 

"You deserve better than me," he argued, his hands coming up to grip your arms. "Why can't you just let me go?" 

"Because I fucking love you, you absolute moron," you snarled before pressing your lips to his, not wanting to argue any longer. You had spent ten years alone, desolate and grieving, and when you imagined this moment during lonely nights, you never quite managed to think it would be so full of hostility.  

Logan froze for a moment before he responded in kind. His hands were tight bands around your forearms and his teeth nipped at your lips, begging entrance you eagerly granted. You slipped your hands beneath his shirt and raked your nails down his back, wanting to make him hurt. You wished you could leave your mark on him, but he would only heal within seconds.  

Harsh kisses were followed by soft whimpers, and you tore your mouth free, obligingly baring your neck to him when he trailed his lips along your jaw towards your throat. He bit kisses into your skin, soothing the sting with his tongue, before moving on to the next one.  

You didn't know how you got across the room or when he lowered you down onto his makeshift bed. All you could recognize was that Logan was holding you in his arms and whispering a promise against your mouth.  

He still loved you.  

He told you that over and over again until you started to believe him.  

Logan was out of his shirt before you could get rid of yours. He reached down, helping you tug your shirt up over your head before his hands fell to the waistband of your jeans. He met your eyes, silently asking permission, and you nodded your head, hoping you didn't appear too eager.  

It had been so long since you felt Logan and you didn't realize just how much you needed him. The feel of his body against yours and his hands wrapped around your hips and his breath warming the side of your neck before he sucked another kiss into your flesh.  

It felt like an eternity before you were both completely bared to each other. Logan was kneeling on the floor, a question in his eyes, and you nodded your head. Your legs fell open easily, admitting Logan until he was all you could feel.  

The sex was fast and nearly punishing, both of you taking out years of aggression and want on the other. It was all-consuming, you could feel, hear, taste, see, and smell nothing but Logan. His tongue was in your mouth and your legs were wrapped around his hips, urging him to quicken his pace. You were covered in bruises and aching, but all you could think about was how much you had missed Logan. You poured every ounce of your want into the moans being wrung out of you and when you gasped, your head tilted back as you chased your end, all you could think about on the fall down was how much you didn't want it to be over.  

You half-expected Logan to get up and leave, but he stayed right there with you. He maneuvered the two of you until he was on his back and you were curled up into his side, your head resting on his shoulder with his arm around your waist.  

You chanced a glance up at him, terrified that it had all been a dream. "I'm scared," you found yourself admitting.  

Logan quirked an eyebrow at you, his hand gently rubbing your back in an attempt to comfort you. "Why scared?" 

You had so many things to be scared about, but most of all you were scared that Logan was already slipping away from you again.  

You didn't want to confess that, so you settled for something else.  

"My luck is going to run out eventually," you pointed out with a grimace. "You go around killing villains in a country run by villains, and the wrong people take notice. They'll get me sooner or later. That dead guy over there said as much earlier." 

Logan was silent for a few torturous, drawn-out moments before he finally sighed. "Then you should go home. Stop running after me." 

You let out an annoyed huff before you sat up, staring down at him in disbelief. "Home, Logan? I don't have a home. You," you stressed, poking him in the chest, "are my home, you idiot." You turned away from him, reaching out for your clothes. You were suddenly freezing, and you had no desire to run around in the same conversational circles with Logan again.  

"Just, c'mere," Logan breathed, reaching out to tug you back into his arms once you were dressed again. "I don't know if I'll ever stop running," he confessed, holding tight when you made to move away again. "Because every time I think about it, I remember their blood on my hands. They were my family and I was supposed to protect them, but I slaughtered them. They screamed, you know, but I thought it was Sinister and Bullseye and other jackasses we'd spent our whole lives fighting. But it was Storm, Cyclops, Jubilee, Beast," he listed, his grip tightening on you with each one. "And it was almost you. Mysterio had me so convinced you were Victor, I was about to slice your head off with my claws. I tried so hard to just get rid of myself, because I knew I'd never be able to erase what I did. I don't know how to just stand still and face what I've done. But God, you make me want to try. You make me want to be better, but all I've done is hurt you and force you to kill for me. I'm the reason you've got that target on your back." 

"It's not your fault," you reiterated for what you felt like must have been the thousandth time since the night the X-Men fell. "Mysterio and all those villains who took advantage of what happened to our family are to blame. You loved them all so much and they knew that, Logan. I'm not asking you to face your demons for me, but I just want to go with you where you go and not arrive days later, searching for you. If you can't stay still, then that's okay, because I'll run with you." 

Logan pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, pulling in a deep breath, drawing in your scent. "Get some rest," he replied, keeping you pressed close to him. "I get the feeling you haven't had a good night's sleep in a while. I'll watch out for you." 

You knew it was Logan's way of avoiding the issue, but you still felt a breath of relief escape you. Half the time, you had to sleep with one hand on a weapon, waiting for an attack. You couldn't remember the last time you had fallen asleep feeling safe, and now in Logan's hold, you could already feel yourself begin to drift off.  

You took a chance, pressing a brief kiss to Logan's shoulder. "I love you," you whispered, knowing he would hear you.  

You were asleep before you could hear Logan's response, if he even had one.  

When you woke in the morning, you were alone.  

You closed your eyes for a moment, letting yourself believe that Logan was coming back, before you forced yourself to face reality.  

As you stood, you tried to stretch the aches out of your body. Sleeping on the floor hadn't been the brightest idea, but when you had been so fully embraced by Logan, it hadn't mattered. Now, you were cold, alone, and felt incredibly vulnerable.  

Later, you would blame the heartbreak that had transcended into resignation. You were so blinded by being left behind again that you didn't even notice the hit coming.  

Something rolled across the floor and landed right at your feet. It took you a stupidly long moment to realize it was one of Osborn's pumpkin bombs. You brought your hands up, only having enough time to form a half-assed forcefield, before the bomb went off.  

You were thrown back into the wall behind you before falling to the floor, your head bouncing painfully off your forcefield on the way down. You didn't even realize you had dropped it until a tentacle slammed down into the floor beside you followed by another on your other side, cutting off any hope of an exit you might have.  

When your vision focused again, you saw three figures staring down at you.  

"Wakey wakey," Green Goblin sang, tilting his head to the side as he observed you. "We've been looking for you." 

"Thought you could escape us?" Victor Creed growled, flexing his claws.  

You didn't know whether it was hilarious or depressing that Logan had left you, but his brother had somehow shown up in his place. As you stared up at the last villain, Omega Red, you wondered how you could have been so stupid. You had let your guard down, for Logan, and now you were going to get yourself killed. You had spent years killing goons and lackies and now their bosses were here to exact revenge.  

If you were going down, then you resolved to at least try to take someone with you.  

Victor would be the easiest, so you turned a smirk up at him. He seemed briefly confused before you formed a forcefield around his body and attempted to crush him, but it was at that moment Osborn flipped a switch on the device strapped to his wrist. At the same time, Omega Red used one of his tentacles, the end of it pointed into a sharp lance, and slammed it down into your calf. You could feel the bone break and you instinctively tried to jerk away from him, but you couldn't go anywhere. The attack was followed up by a mist spraying from Osborn's device and you suddenly felt like your skin was on fire.  

You knew you were screaming, and you wished for nothing more than the ability to stop, but pain had enveloped you so completely. You weren't even sure if the others were actively hurting you or Norman just wanted to you to lose your mind. After your screams died out, simply because your throat felt worn raw and you couldn't pull in anymore breath into your lungs, Norman sprayed another mist.  

The relief was nearly instantaneous, but the moment was short-lived.  

You were shaking uncontrollably, and you knew without a doubt that you couldn't use your power even if you had the energy to try. You felt so weakened that you could barely lift your head when Victor crouched over you. He slashed his claws across your face, leaving blood to pour freely from the gash across your cheek.  

"Too bad my brother doesn't want you anymore," he sneered, pressing his claws to your shoulder before digging in.  

You didn't have it in you to scream anymore and you felt your head loll forward, dark spots dancing in your vision.  

You knew there was no walking away from this. At least, you consoled yourself, you had known Logan for one more night. It might not have been perfect, but it was what you needed. Victor's claws came up to caress your throat and you imagined them easily slicing through your flesh, ending your life.  

You closed your eyes, wanting to think about nothing but Logan in your final moments, when you heard his voice.  

"Get the fuck away from her," Logan snarled, and you were half-convinced that it was all in your head. He should have been long gone by now, already crossing state borders in a bid to put some distance between the two of you.  

But when you managed to open your eyes, it was to see Logan at Omega Red's back. Osborn was simply watching Logan, as if he was waiting for the show, and Omega Red already had his tentacles curling out to attack Logan.  

"Looks like little Logan has come out to play," Osborn mocked, taking a few steps back to put some distance between them. He went back to the device on his wrist, and you whimpered at the idea of the unceasing pain.  

Logan shot you a worried look, but he didn't take his attention away from the three villains threatening you. He sidestepped one of Omega Red's attacks, making it look nearly effortless.  

"I said get the fuck away from her," Logan reiterated, turning his attention on Victor. "I'm not gonna ask you again, bub." 

Victor laughed, letting his claws break the skin of your throat. "I'm not scared of you. You haven't popped your claws in years. You're just a pathetic piece of shit, Logan, and now you're gonna watch your girlfriend die." 

Logan watched the blood trail down your neck before he met your eyes. There was a moment when all you could see was the fear in Logan's eyes when you sincerely thought he was going to watch Victor slash your throat. You knew that losing another person he loved would destroy him all over again and you didn't want him to have to watch.  

"Just go," you pleaded, not wanting your death on Logan's conscience as well. "It's okay." 

Logan looked so heartbroken for a moment, his eyes never once leaving yours as his hands began to tremble. But then you could see rage fall over him and he flicked his wrists, letting his claws descend.  

Between one slow blink of your eyes and the next, Logan was standing behind Victor. 

"The name's not Logan," he started, before he made a quick movement that sunk his claws right into Victor's neck. "It's Wolverine," he snarled before pulling his claws free, messy and bloody, leaving Victor's head to roll back on his shoulders before falling to the floor.  

Osborn and Omega Red didn't move for one shocked moment before they both descended on Logan. He made quick work of Green Goblin, stabbing him over and over again with his claws until Osborn's insides were spilling out of him and his face was indistinguishable beneath his cracked mask.  

Omega Red proved to be a tougher challenge for Logan. His claws didn't do much to Omega Red and you knew that it might be hours before either one of them got the upper hand. You managed to use all the strength you had reserved, waiting for your perfect moment to strike, before forming a forcefield around Omega Red. He struck out, trying to pierce through it with his tentacles, but you were determined not to let him go anywhere.  

You let it shrink and shrink, keeping a tight hold on your control. You wanted to savor Omega Red's demise, knowing that it might be the last time you got to take down a villain. You finally closed your hand into a fist, crushing Omega Red in your forcefield, stubbornly holding it long after you knew he was dead.  

Logan was at your side, pressing a torn blanket to the wound in your leg.  

"I'm here, sweetheart," he soothed, and you realized then that you had been reaching out for him, your breath leaving you on a whimper. "I'm sorry. I never should've left you here." He was careful as he slid one arm beneath your knees and used the other to brace your back. "Arms around my neck," he ordered, barely giving you time to comply before he was lifting you up.  

"Where are we going?" You croaked, your throat sore and limbs weak as you clung to him.  

"Anywhere but here," Logan answered, carrying you out of the warehouse. "Someone's gonna come sniffing around sooner or later and I want to get you as far away from here as I can." 

You could feel yourself beginning to drift now that your adrenaline had faded. "Will you be there when I wake up?" You made yourself ask, terrified that Logan would drop you off at a hospital and make a break for it.  

"I'm never leaving you again," Logan promised you as he approached a van.  

You weren't sure where he got it, but you were grateful for it when he helped you lie down in the back of it.  

You must have given him a skeptical look, because Logan grabbed your hand and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of it. "From now on, we'll run together," he said, cupping a hand to your cheek. "If you'll have me," he amended, brushing his fingers over the cuts Victor had left on your face. "I wouldn't forgive me if I was you." 

"Yeah, well, you're not me," you pointed out, bringing a hand up to squeeze his wrist. "And I love you, Logan. I never stopped loving you." You had crossed state lines and fought and bled and cried all for Logan. You would have kept chasing him for the rest of your life, because he was all you had.  

Logan gifted you an uncertain smile and you knew he felt like he didn't deserve your devotion. "I'll spend the rest of my life earning that," he told you before pressing a kiss to your forehead.  

"I never wanted you to have to be the Wolverine again," you tried to console him, knowing how much he had sacrificed letting his claws free again. "But thank you for saving me." 

Logan huffed out an amused breath, gifting you with a look like he couldn't believe you were real. "You're the one who saved me," he pointed out, maneuvering himself until he could lie down at your side. Your eyelids had started to droop and you were fighting sleep. "Now, try to get some rest. I'll be here when you're ready to wake up." 

You reached out, grasping Logan's hand in yours. "I'm going to hold you to that," you let him know before letting yourself fall asleep, finally feeling safe with the knowledge that Logan wasn't planning on leaving you again. 

Author's Notes: @the-gentle-spirit had the idea that each Wolverine had their own Y/N and that the Y/N in the main fic 'won't somebody come take me home' truly had the worst Logan in her universe before she met the Logan from Deadpool and Wolverine. Every other Logan is stupidly in love with their Y/N, so the fact that that Logan could let her go so easily was truly an anomaly. So, each chapter will be a different variant, starting with Old Man Logan as a birthday gift to myself. 🎉🥳 If you want to be tagged in this series or in all of my Logan fics, just let me know!

All Logan Taglist: @i-left-my-cat-on-the-stove @slightlymediocree @snowyminty @i-wear-wet-socks313 @shizzybarnaclee

[deliciousangelfestival]

I Hate It When You're Drunk - 9

Character: bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Princess!Reader

Summary: A forbidden romance between a princess and her bodyguard leads to a dramatic wedding, but their happiness is soon overshadowed by political intrigue and betrayal, testing their love and resolve.

I Hate It When You're Drunk Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on : Ko-fi 🙏🏻please, please please.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Watching the former queen leave the palace felt surreal. But seeing the king lose his composure, even for a moment, made it all worth it.

Perhaps Alicia's return stirred something in Leonard. Did her presence remind him of who he used to be? Does he feel guilt for taking the life of the former king and his siblings?

Leonard clicked his tongue, clearly frustrated, but he couldn't do anything since she was a diplomatic guest.

"Welcome to the family," he said, tapping Bucky's shoulder. "As of today, you're officially part of royalty."

Bucky stood tall, his expression composed despite the turmoil of the evening. "Thank you, Your Majesty. I will do my best to honor the family name and uphold my duties."

Leonard gave a curt nod, his gaze still clouded. "Now, go find my daughter. She must be shocked by the uninvited guest."

Bucky nodded and quickly left to find you.

He asked one of the guards outside, "Where is she?"

The guard hesitated, clearly nervous. "She went back to her chambers, sir," he stuttered, quickly correcting himself. "I'm sorry—Your Majesty."

Bucky didn't waste another moment. He hurried down the corridor toward your chambers, the tension from the evening still weighing on him. When he reached your door, he found the room shrouded in darkness. The only light came from the faint glow of the moon filtering through the window.

His eyes fell on you, lying across the bed, already passed out from the alcohol. He sighed heavily, a mix of relief and sorrow flooding him. Today was supposed to be the day both of you had longed for, the day that sealed your love. But it didn't feel that way—not with all the chaos and the looming weight of what had happened.

Walking over quietly, Bucky knelt beside you, brushing a strand of hair from your tear-streaked face. His hand lingered on your cheek, and his heart ached for you. You had endured so much, and now, instead of celebrating together, you were drowning in grief and confusion.

He gently wiped away the remnants of tears. He wanted to protect you from all this, but somehow, it all seemed to follow you both, no matter how hard he tried. Today should have been filled with joy, yet it felt as if the very world had turned its back on the happiness you deserved.

👑👑👑👑

The next morning, you woke with a pounding headache, groaning as the light filtered through the curtains. As you blinked your eyes open, you noticed several servants standing around your bed, their faces full of uncertainty.

"Why are you all surrounding me like this?" you asked, your voice groggy.

"Your Highness," one of the servants said nervously, "today... you're scheduled to leave for your honeymoon?"

You widened your eyes in shock and threw your head back onto the pillow with a frustrated sigh. The last thing you wanted right now was a honeymoon. You felt exhausted—mentally and physically.

"Where is my husband?" you muttered, rubbing your temples to ease the headache.

"With the king," the servant replied.

"Fuck," you murmured under your breath.

Reluctantly, you got out of bed, rubbing the remnants of sleep from your eyes. The servants hurried to help you get ready, brushing your hair, and helping you into a more appropriate outfit for the day. But despite their efforts, you felt sluggish, your mood foul as you tugged on your shoes and stormed out of the room.

You ran through the halls toward the dining room, your steps quick and determined. As you pushed the heavy doors open, you were greeted by the sight of King Leonard and your newlywed husband, Bucky, sitting together at the table. The tension between them was palpable, though Bucky remained composed.

Leonard’s eyes flicked toward you as you entered, his smirk just as arrogant as ever. “Ah, here comes the bride. I trust you slept well?” he asked, his tone dripping with amusement.

You shot him a sharp look. “Not particularly,” you muttered.

Leonard chuckled lightly, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Well, I suppose you’ll have plenty of time to rest on your honeymoon. You’re leaving shortly, after all. I wish you both a safe and pleasant trip.”

Bucky stood up, offering you his arm, his expression neutral though you could feel the tension radiating from him. “Shall we?” he asked quietly.

You hesitated for a moment but then linked your arm with his, glancing up at him. Together, the two of you walked toward the palace doors, with Leonard trailing behind. As expected, a crowd of press and citizens had gathered outside, their cheers and shouts echoing across the courtyard. They were here for the young newlywed couple—their eyes full of admiration and hope for a perfect royal love story.

Though you still felt tired and irritated, you forced a smile, waving at the crowd. Bucky followed suit, his arm still linked with yours as he raised his hand to acknowledge the people.

Once you reached the helicopter, the cheers faded into the background. Bucky slid into his seat, fastening his seatbelt, but he could feel the cold air between you. You had been giving him the silent treatment, and it didn’t go unnoticed.

As you reached for your own seatbelt, it was Leonard who stepped in to assist you. You let him fasten it, though the gesture felt awkward. You looked up at him, narrowing your eyes.

“Stay at peace while I'm gone,” you warned, your tone sharp but laced with exhaustion.

Leonard chuckled, his grin smug. “You never know,” he said, his voice low with hidden meaning.

You glared at him one last time before settling into your seat, the sound of the helicopter’s blades whirring loudly as it prepared for takeoff. Though you were now on your way to what was supposed to be a joyful honeymoon, the weight of everything lingered in the air between you and Bucky.

As the helicopter soared through the sky, the silence between you and Bucky was thick and heavy. He glanced over at you several times, noticing how your eyes were already closed, your head resting against the seat. You looked peaceful, but he knew better. There was a tension beneath that calm exterior—a storm waiting to break.

Bucky’s emotions were all over the place. He had thought this day would be different. After all the time you both had waited, after the struggles and secret glances, this was supposed to be your moment.

But instead, it felt hollow. His chest tightened as he replayed everything that had happened, from the uninvited guest to the strange distance you now put between the two of you. He couldn’t help but feel helpless, unsure of how to bridge the gap that had suddenly grown.

On the other hand, you were drowning in your own thoughts. Behind your closed eyelids, memories of the past day swirled in your mind. Everything felt off. You were supposed to be celebrating your love, but it felt like the world around you was falling apart.

After what felt like hours, the helicopter began its descent, landing softly on a lush green field. You opened your eyes to see the sprawling beauty of the resort that would be your honeymoon destination.

You had hoped for somewhere far away, but Leonard had other plans, citing safety concerns. At least this place was special—a resort with several private islands. It was supposed to be a romantic getaway, secluded from the rest of the world.

The resort’s staff greeted you and Bucky with utmost care, ensuring everything was perfect for the newlywed royal couple. After checking that everything was in place, the managers and employees finally left, leaving the two of you alone on your private island.

The air between you remained tense as Bucky stood near the window, watching you move around the room. The silence was deafening.

“Are you going to continue ignoring me?” Bucky’s voice broke the quiet, his tone low but firm.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you walked over to the bar and grabbed a bottle of rum, searching through the ice bucket. Your hands moved mechanically, trying to find something to numb the unease creeping up your spine.

Suddenly, Bucky grabbed your wrist, stopping you. “Stop it,” he said softly but with authority. His blue eyes searched yours. “I’ll answer it. Whatever you need to know, just ask.”

You paused, the rum bottle slipping from your grasp and landing with a soft thud on the counter. Your chest rose and fell with frustration.

“Fine,” you muttered, turning to face him fully, but the hurt in your eyes was unmistakable.

Bucky exhaled deeply, his grip loosening but not letting go completely. Both of you stood there, a heartbeat away from what could either be a breakthrough or another layer of distance.

Both of you sat across from each other, the tension in the room palpable. Bucky shifted uncomfortably in his seat, running a hand through his hair as he struggled to find the right words. His eyes locked onto yours, determined, but there was also a flicker of doubt. He knew he couldn’t drag this out any longer.

"I started the coup d'état," he finally said, his voice low but steady.

The moment those words left his mouth, it felt like a thunderclap in your ears. Your heart pounded as you processed the confession, your mind racing to catch up with the weight of what he had just said.

"Bucky, what the fuck?" you snapped, disbelief and anger flashing in your eyes.

“I know... I know,” Bucky said quickly, holding his hands up as if to calm the rising storm. "But we—I mean, me and the others—had one goal: to make the king step down. That’s it.”

You let out a frustrated groan, rubbing your temples as if that could somehow ease the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. “Bucky, I love you to death, but what you did was stupid.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened. “Excuse me?” he shot back, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “I did it for us! And for the victims of that tyrant king!”

You couldn’t deny the truth in his words. The king—your father—had left a trail of victims in his wake. You felt a shiver run down your spine as you recalled the horror that had befallen your family. “The king killed his three older siblings, along with their spouses and children,” you said, your voice trembling. “My cousins... they’re all gone because of him.”

Bucky’s gaze softened, hearing the pain in your voice, but he didn’t speak. He knew the reality of your father’s cruelty, but it was different hearing it from you.

“He was a no one,” you continued, your voice thick with disbelief. “And yet he became the king that everyone fears.” You stared at the ground, the weight of your father’s reign heavy on your shoulders. “He knew his weaknesses, and the people who supported him exploited them.”

"What made me even more furious," you continued, your voice sharp with betrayal, "is that I’m the future queen, yet I had no idea what was happening in my own country. My husband turned out to be the leader of a coup d’état, and my father—the tyrant king—knew it before I did!"

You lifted your head, locking eyes with Bucky, frustration lacing your tone. “I’m your wife, but you left me in the dark!”

Bucky’s eyes widened, his mouth opening to defend himself, but you weren’t finished.

Your words hung in the air like a dark cloud. Bucky looked at you, his expression torn between regret and defiance. You both sat there in a tense silence for a moment, the weight of everything settling between you.

Finally, you sighed, leaning back in your chair as exhaustion overtook your frustration. “I’ve been living in a bubble,” you admitted quietly.

Bucky leaned forward, his voice soft but filled with conviction. “I didn’t want to leave you out of it. I thought... I thought I was protecting you.”

He ran a hand through his hair again, clearly struggling with the gravity of the situation. “I did it for us—for a better future. You know the kind of man your father is. I couldn’t just sit by and let him continue.”

You looked at him, the raw emotion in his eyes matching your own. Despite everything, you knew his intentions had come from a place of love, no matter how misguided they were.

“I get it,” you said, your voice softer now. “I understand why you did what you did. But you should have trusted me, Bucky. I should’ve been part of this.”

Bucky reached out, taking your hands in his. “You’re right,” he said, his voice heavy with regret. “I should’ve told you. I should’ve trusted you.”

You squeezed his hands, feeling some of the tension start to dissolve. “We’re supposed to face things together, not alone,” you said softly.

“I know. And from now on, we will,” Bucky promised, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles.

You both sat there for a moment, the silence no longer oppressive but comforting. You had reached an understanding, even if the road ahead was still uncertain. There was still love between you—love strong enough to survive even this.

As the tension between you and Bucky began to ease, you both found solace in the quiet moments of your honeymoon. Finally, it was just the two of you, no more secrets or unspoken words hanging over your heads. The weight of everything slowly lifted as you immersed yourselves in the beauty of the private island.

The days were filled with a tranquil bliss, the warm sun kissing your skin as you and Bucky strolled along the secluded beaches. The turquoise waves lapped gently at the shore, creating a soothing backdrop to your peaceful escape. You’d often find yourselves on the balcony of your villa, overlooking the ocean, wrapped in each other's arms as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange.

Bucky had his arm around you as you leaned into his chest, both of you quietly enjoying the view. “I wish we could stay like this forever,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.

“Me too,” you agreed, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. For the first time in a long while, you felt safe and content, the weight of the past slowly fading into the background.

You and Bucky spent your days exploring the island—swimming in the crystal-clear waters, relaxing in hammocks under the shade of palm trees, and sharing intimate dinners under the stars. His laughter was lighter now, and your smiles were genuine. There was no need to rush; this one month of vacation belonged to the two of you.

At night, Bucky would hold you close as the two of you talked about the future, making plans that seemed so far away now but filled you both with hope. The warmth of his body, the way he kissed your forehead before you both drifted to sleep—it made everything feel right again.

But on the last day of your honeymoon, that peace was shattered.

The morning had started quietly enough. After breakfast, you and Bucky curled up on the couch, flipping through the channels on the TV. As you turned on the news, something caught your attention. The usual cheerful headlines were gone, replaced by the stark seriousness of a breaking news broadcast.

The image of King Leonard, standing behind a podium, filled the screen. The sight of him immediately sent a chill down your spine. You could feel the air shift, the sense of foreboding creeping in.

Leonard stepped closer to the microphone, his expression grim. He paused for a moment, scanning the audience, before leaning in and saying, “We’re going to war.”

Your heart stopped. For a moment, it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room.

"What the fuck?" you and Bucky blurted out at the same time, both of you staring at the screen in disbelief.

Bucky's face hardened, his hands clenching into fists. "This can't be happening," he muttered, running a hand through his hair as he stood up, pacing in front of the TV.

You swallowed hard, trying to process what you just heard, but dread weighed heavily on your chest. The peaceful bubble of your honeymoon had been shattered, replaced by a terrifying uncertainty. War meant everything would change—and not for the better.

Bucky stopped pacing and looked at you, his eyes filled with concern. “We need to go back.”

You nodded slowly, your mind racing. “I knew something was off,” you murmured, fear creeping into your voice. “But war?”

Neither of you could believe it, yet the reality was there, staring at you from the screen.

The honeymoon was over.

Join the tag list:

@thezombieprostitute

@thetravelingtyper

@scott-loki-barnes

@mostlymarvelgirl

@dexter99

@seresingirlie

@missvelvetsstuff

@kjah97

@tfatwsoldir

@itsteambarnes

@toldyouitwasamelodrama

@sapphirebarnes

@thedonswife13

@angelbabyyy99

@esposadomd

@buckitostan

@wh0reforbucknasty

@bada-lee-ily

@evie-119

@mrsstuckyboo

@ghalouha

@iamasimpingh0e

@loki-laufeyson68

@buckybarnessimpp

@milllieeee

@ashdoctor

@mushycore

@crazyunsexycool

@anixerz

@mcira

@touchstarvedforbuckybarnes

@pattiemac1

@elizalexwil

@ghalouha

@gingersnap-2

@whitexwolfxx310

@kaithesimps-blog

@marvel-wifey-86

@kumointhesky

@hnnhbananananana

@je-suis-prest-rachel

@nouis-bum

@julvrs

@thebuckybarnesvault

@saiyanprincessswanie

@unaxv

@danzer8705

@breathlesspieceofdeath

@darsynia

@lokislady82

@bonkybarnes106

@kandis-mom

@finthebeautyinbreakdowns

@avis15

[periprose]

Can I have a Logan Howlett x Angel!Fem!Reader where Logan sees the reader in the kitchen having a bit of a meltdown and uncomfortable feeling over holding a knife (for like, cooking reasons or smth) and he calms her down because the reader just doesn’t want to hurt anyone :(? I’d appreciate it thanks! (I’ve seen you wanted more Angel reader, so im here to reciprocate :3)

AHhhh this fits so well Anon (maybe unintentionally so, the previous fic had a little snippet about Angel's mom trying to stab her when she was young...) but I love your brain. I made it a bit longer and added some stuff and it's set before the previous Logan Gains a Guardian Angel fic (LGGA for short) so they're not together yet.

Knives Drip Chocolate (or, Logan Gains a Guardian Angel)

Word Count: 2.9k

Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt with comfort, mutual pining, idiots in love, mild traumatic flashback stuff (but no violence)

LGGA Masterlist

Logan is always ready for a late-night snack.

It’s hard for him to feel full, a lot of the time– he didn’t always have the easiest access to food, and he’s known for a while, if there’s a brief period in his immortal-like life where he can just relax about food and supplies, he shouldn’t take that for granted. 

Plus with an accelerated healing factor, sometimes his body starts digesting food too quickly, leading to faster body repair, but nothing to feel satisfied about.

So he’s got tons of cravings. Something that you are constantly bothered about, even now, as Logan knocks on your door, asking yet again if you’d accompany him to the kitchen.

Not that you actually mind. Sometimes you think you’d follow Logan into hell if he asked nicely enough, despite your occasionally evasive attitude keeping him on his toes.

“Angel, please. I’m starving.” Logan’s grumpy complaints are muffled behind your door, and you wonder why a nearly 200 year old man needs you so badly, to be by his side, when he’s spent so long being a loner.

“I’m coming.” You yawn, pulling yourself out of your bed– Storm is your roommate, and she’s passed out, stone cold. You quickly finger comb your hair, and fix your giant t-shirt, so your shoulder isn’t so exposed.

Silly, because you know Logan doesn’t care.

It’s bad. It’s really, really bad, because you don’t want to get attached to Logan, not when he’s sure to toss you aside like he’s done with the rest of them eventually. But you can’t help yourself– Logan is easy to be around, he knows your fears and little quirks, and he has never treated you like you’re so different for being a little quiet, like him. 

You know everyone has noticed. When you open your bedroom door, and Logan stares at you for a moment– an unreadable, soft glance in his eyes, one that you could choose to ignore, but don’t, as you stare back at him– you know all the other X-Men see it. Some silly crush you have on him, that clearly confuses Logan himself as he shakes his head, and pulls you by the arm out of your room, your PJs and hair askew.

Logan himself looks good, you have to admit– wearing lazy sweatpants and a white tank-top, his arm muscles looking especially defined tonight– and you pull your arm away, embarrassed that you give into these feelings so easily.

He’s only ever going to be your best friend. Even now, there’s nothing romantic about the way Logan asks if you want a ham and cheddar sandwich, too. He’s just looking out for you. 

Jean, Scott, and Storm have literally asked you, more than once, if you and Logan had maybe slept together, or kissed, or anything that would be a culmination of some supposed lust, in which case you always laugh awkwardly and deny everything. 

Your excuse is that it’s deeper than that, and it’s one-sided. What would be the point of bringing it up if it would just end in heartbreak?

“Earth to Angel.” Logan shakes your arm, breaking your stride. “Hey, that’s kind of funny, isn’t it? You’re always up in Heaven. Daydreaming about who the hell knows what.”

“Haha, Logan.” You mockingly say in a deadpan voice. “What is it?”

“Your wings are flexing a little bit, again, like they’re about to open. They’re kind of pulsing.” He says it in a soft tone, ushering in some concern he has, and you find yourself wishing that you were someone normal, someone that Logan didn’t have to care so much about. 

It’s not that you’re not happy to have his concern, it’s just that you don’t know what to do with it. Thank him for it? You have never been used to people looking out for you.

“It’s fine. Sometimes I get muscle spasms, it’s nothing to worry about.” You mutter, knowing it has to do with anxiety, but Logan looks a bit unconvinced.

“Okay. But if you keep having weird tremors, I’m taking you to the hospital wing so you can get diagnosed.” Logan states, and you open your mouth to argue, but he tuts. “No arguing about this. Last thing we need is for you to die from stress or cancer or something.”

Your heartbeat quickens, not at the mention of cancer, but because Logan used we and now you’re just thinking about how you’re always together.

Not like that, though.

“Okay, Logan. I get it.” You shake your head. “I won’t die.” 

“Not yet. We got snacks to eat.” Logan agrees, as he leads you into the kitchen.

/

Logan’s got you working on making hot chocolate as he makes the sandwiches, pan-frying them till the cheese is hot and melty. 

It’s not really a common mix, you think, but you’re just happy to be helping.

“Careful. Milk boils over fast.” Logan comments from next to you, mostly focused on his own side of the stove, and you roll your eyes.

“I know that.” You retort, but as you look away from the stove for one second, the pot of milk nearly does boil over, and you swear, reducing the heat quickly.

Logan starts laughing. “Told you.”

You shove him lightly, and he has a stupid grin on his face, one where you know Logan takes such joy in teasing you at times. Like this is one of the greatest pleasures in life.

You move the milk over to the counter, to let it cool, and then remember something semi-important. 

“Logan? Don’t forget, Scott wanted extra ham for the Hawaiian pizza they’re making tomorrow–” As you’re reminding him, Logan wordlessly shows you the empty ham package, telling you that he used all of it for the sandwiches.

“You snooze, you lose.” Logan shrugs, and you close your eyes in partial defeat, trying not to laugh at his antics.

“I guess, but you never seem to lose, and Scott’s always chewing me out for your ‘mistakes.’” You point at yourself, tongue poking through the side of your mouth, and Logan raises his eyebrows. “Tell me: Am I snoozing, or are you just lucky that I take the blame?”

“Ah, Angel… you’re obviously asleep.” Logan smirks, and you scoff at his audacity, having expected a semi-apology from him. “No one ever said you had to take the blame for my snacks. You could’ve just told him it was Jean, and he wouldn’t have asked any questions.”

You blink at him. “Lying to our team’s leader aside, why Jean?”

“C’mon. Scott’s crazy over her, they’ve been together for however long, and he can never say no to her. It’s the perfect excuse– he wouldn’t even ask her about missing food, so not to offend his sweetheart.” Logan pauses, a thoughtful look taking over his features, and he scratches his chin. “I guess love really is blind.”

“Wow. You had that takeaway based on gaslighting both Scott and Jean? You really are an unfeeling old man.” You giggle, and Logan glances over at you, his face heating up at your laugh, a sweet sound that always pushes a warmth into his chest.

If Logan was honest, he understands Scott perfectly. Sure, he could play the part of the curmudgeonly old man, and lie to you– but in truth, he was doing that because he likes you.

Just like Scott. Logan likes you so much, that he would honestly lie to you just to protect your relationship– whether that be about missing food, or if you talk about some other dude someday, and he has to pretend he’s all ecstatic for you, as he often worries about. 

He knows it’s bad. And he doesn’t like it, either. Logan insists to himself, in pure self denial, that this love he has for you doesn’t exist, because he would rather be given even a little bit of your presence as a friend, than to be entirely shut out by you upon imminent rejection.

But even he knows he protests too much. Of course he loves you, how could he not?

Logan thinks of you as his personal guardian Angel. It’s silly, of course– but you’re the one who helps him make better choices, doing the right thing more often than not. He’s an idiot– you’re a beautiful genius of a woman, and it bothers him so deeply that you keep to yourself.

He looks over at you. You’re chopping up a bar of dark chocolate, and your gaze is intensely focused– Logan has seen the same expression on you when you’re beating up a bad guy. You’re thinking, murmuring something to yourself, probably thinking about hot chocolate.

Your eyes turn wide, glassy, and you inhale sharply.

Logan immediately comes to your side. “Angel?”

Logan’s voice doesn’t fully register to you.

The knife gleams in the low lighting of the kitchen, as you turn it over and over in your hand, dark brown chocolate smudging the blade, and then you look down to your palms.

Where your hands are covered in dark, melted chocolate, after you’ve been holding the chocolate bar to chop it up– the liquid is almost amber in hue. 

“...blood.” You whisper something unintelligible, but Logan catches the last word.

You retch to yourself, hyperventilating over the counter, back hunched over, the knife still clenched in your palm.

“Angel, hey–” Logan squeezes his way between the counter and your right arm, where your hand is holding the knife, and he firmly pulls it away from you, grabbing it blade-first without even thinking about it, and you gasp, shouting at him to get away.

Logan stops, at a loss for words. You’re trembling, you’re no longer holding the knife, but you can’t stop looking at your hands.

He grabs your arms a bit more gently, turning you towards him, and you’re lost in some train of thought that Logan can’t stop.

Mom sliced up one of my hands once… it’s been years, but it looked just like this.

Then I got her back, by accident… it was an accident, Angel.

“What’s wrong?” Logan looks down at you in fear, worry that something may actually be very wrong, and you haven’t told him a thing.

He thinks he shouldn’t have assumed you were always alright. He knows you aren’t– he just finds it difficult to surpass your avoidant attitude. He’s never seen you have a full blown panic attack like this before.

Your wings are subtly twitching again, folded against your back, but threatening to open up to full expanse, and you shake your head, lip quivering, as you look down at the floor.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone.” You utter so softly, so heartbreakingly tiny, and Logan feels himself turning cold at your words, wondering if you’d really done something that terrible.

With a kitchen knife, of all things. He wants to hug you firmly now.

He knows even if it was true– there’s no way that was your fault, no way Logan wouldn’t have sussed that out based on instinct. 

“It isn’t…” Logan starts, wanting to say it wasn’t your fault, but he doesn’t know how that will go over with you. “You’re not going to hurt anyone. Where is that coming from?”

“Just a bad memory.” You say with a shaky breath, the most information you’re willing to give him at this moment, and you know– you know– Logan is never going to be satisfied with that answer.

You don’t want to scare him off. This is the first time you could even say you have a best friend, and you don’t want Logan to pity you or feel like you were incapable of taking care of yourself. You don’t want him to see you like your mother did.

Logan frowns. Then, instead of asking you a question, he traces the back of your wings, which causes a shiver in your body.

You close your eyes, expecting to feel tense, scared, and horrified, but instead you feel calm, almost placid. Being touched by Logan makes you feel like everything is going to be alright.

Your wings stop shaking, and Logan hands you a wet paper towel. You wipe your chocolatey hands, which puts you at ease, seeing your clean hands again. 

“Sorry. I don’t mean to make you my caretaker.” You whisper, always worried about others’ perception of you, and Logan shakes his head.

“I don’t mind, Angel. As long as you’re alright.” Logan has a tentative look on his face, and you’re almost embarrassed, that you like being taken care of so badly, and he hugs you tightly, arms wrapped around your back, a near bone crushing hug that has you nestled in his chest, fit under his jaw as he places his head on top of yours.

Your heartbeat slows down. You’re not panicking any more, but it seems like Logan, too, is reaping some sort of benefit by being so close to you. He inhales deeply, and the sigh rumbles through his chest into you.

You could almost cry. You spent so much of your childhood never being close to anyone, and being held is cathartic in a way you can’t even describe.

Logan doesn’t let go until you do. Then he has the audacity to look a little sheepish, like he had done something un-Logan and uncool, and you almost feel pained, like you should push him away, and go to sleep on your own.

It’s such an odd feeling, to both want his concern, and to wish you never needed to do so.

You stare up at him, and Logan smiles, a soft smile that he hopes reads as comforting rather than a snarl, and you can’t help yourself for what you ask next.

“Could I sleep in your room?” You ask, biting back the immediate disclaimers of it’s okay if you don’t want to. “I’m just better when I’m around you.”

There’s also the thing of waking up Storm if you enter back in now, and explaining that you had yet another panic attack. She’ll be mad.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s okay.” Logan murmurs, wondering if you meant to make that sound so devotedly sweet, something that causes his insides to seize a little.

He feels better around you, too.

You’re usually good at hiding this side of yourself from him– it’s another step deeper, another step too far into your relationship to take back– and now you worry you’ll never really be able to separate.

Logan ruffles your hair, and all is right again.

/

He makes you eat at least a bite of the sandwich, and sip a little hot chocolate– the rest is placed in the fridge for some other mutant to eat.

Logan won’t let you go to sleep without a meal, or in this case a few nibbles, if he can help it.

“Moods are worse on an empty stomach.” Logan grins, and you smile, feeling a little more at ease.

“You’re not you when you’re hungry.” You joke, and Logan rolls his eyes. 

“Yeah, save that for when we’re pilfering Kurt’s Snickers bars.” He snorts. 

Logan leads you to his room, oddly silent the entire time. It’s not that Logan isn’t typically quiet, it’s that it feels more tense. He’s keeping to himself, and he doesn’t seem to have anything against you– he has only a kind expression for you, when you meet his eyes.

Finally, you both arrive to his bedroom door. Logan is lucky– he doesn’t have to room with anyone– and you’ve been in here plenty of times.

Still, that doesn’t explain why it takes him a second to enter in the room, as you follow him in.

It’s sparsely decorated in here– one poster of the Calgary Flames is on Logan’s wall, and there’s a mug with random, assorted pens on his desk. His bed has never been filled with loads of stuffed animals and pillows like other X-Men (read: Jubilee) would have. There’s a pile of assorted flannels, jackets, and scarves hanging off a coat rack.

It’s comforting, though. Logan is a simple man, and you like being close enough to understand him, to see the small remnants of things he likes.

“Well. The bed’s there, if you’d like. Don’t let me stop you.” Logan points to the bed, and he starts walking towards the leather recliner next to the window.

“Logan. Stop.” You grab him by the arm, and he pauses, slightly scared, mostly enthused by what you’ll say next. “It’s okay with me if we sleep next to each other.”

“...Okay.” Logan watches as you climb into his bed, hoping it’s comfortable, and doing a weird thing of personally memorizing the way you lay and snuggle down, in case you never do this again.

You’re next to the wall, so Logan stays on his side, lying down close to the edge of the bed. And you’re keeping your distance– so is he.

You turn, and Logan is already looking at you. He glances away.

“Good night, Angel.” Logan utters softly, and with that, you turn to your side, to fall asleep.

/

When Logan wakes up, he freezes, so not to move you. Somehow, through out the night, you ended up snuggled around him, sprawled against his chest, your arms lightly wrapping around him.

He loves it. He’s glad to see he’s been useful for once– he gave you a good night’s sleep.

[writingoddess1125]

Deadpool Headcanon

Dad!Deadpool and GN Reader

Fluffy Weirdness

Kinda just came to me so enjoy? 🤷🏼

Masterlist <<

Kofi <<

• Deadpool, finds out that he has a teenage kid, (Y/N) by total accident.

• A relative of a old fling of his telling him they had his kid before disappearing themselves.

�� His reaction is a delightful mix of shock, denial, and inappropriate jokes.

"Wait, I'm someone's dad? Damn- They must be fucked up!"

• But underneath all the sarcasm and one-liners, the idea begins to settle into his brain.

• A tinge of fear eats at his brain and itches under his skin..

• When Wade first digs into (Y/N)’s background—using his "very legal" skills—it’s mostly to make sure they’re not a mini supervillain in training.

• But what he finds instead knocks the wind out of him: (Y/N) has been in and out of the foster system for years.

• That hits him harder than he'd like to admit- making him pace a bit back and forth in thought.

• At first, he doesn’t know how to handle it.

• His own past was screwed up, but seeing his kid going through the same kind of instability?

• It messes with him. Wade cracks a joke to numb the ache.

“Of course, my kid’s in the system… couldn’t have inherited my charm or good looks, huh?”

• Deadpool starts paying more attention, following (Y/N) closely.

• He watches them move from one foster home to another, each one more temporary than the last.

• Sometimes (Y/N) would get picked up by a social worker right after school, with nothing more than a worn-out backpack slung over their shoulder.

• Wade stays out of sight, gripping his weapons tighter than he should, resisting the urge to intervene... for now.

• Seeing (Y/N) trying to stay strong, dealing with bullies, shifting from home to home, makes something snap inside Wade.

• He realizes he’s angry, really angry. No kid, especially not ***his kid*** , should have to feel so lost and abandoned.

• He remembers what it was like to feel that way, and no amount of sex, drugs, or killing can take the edge off that pain.

• Wade starts leaving more than just quirky gifts. In (Y/N)’s locker, there’s a new hoodie with a note, “To make you feel less invisible. You’re worth more than these idiots know. ~ D.”

• Another time, a stuffed unicorn with a note, "Even the toughest need a cuddle buddy." One day, Wade overhears (Y/N) talking to a friend about how they’ll probably get moved again soon

"Yeah, these fosters are.. assholes to put it mildly" (Y/N) jest to one of the few friends they have. Not knowing the hoodie that had mysteriously appeared had a wire hidden in it.

• That night, a hefty envelope shows up in their locker, stuffed with cash and a note that says, “You ever need a place to crash? You’ve got options. Let me know when you’re ready. P.S. This is totally not a bribe. ~D”

"I'm probably gonna get moved again-"

• Deadpool even starts anonymously dropping hints to social workers that (Y/N) should stay in one stable placement, using his "subtle" methods to make sure they’re treated better. He also might’ve scared a foster parent or two into straightening up.

• It doesn't take long for (Y/N) to get to notice all the changes- The social workers treating them better, and now getting to stay with an actually nice family.

• He watches (Y/N) cope with it all, still from a distance hkwever, but now more protective than ever. He knows he can’t change the past, but he can sure as hell make sure (Y/N) doesn’t feel abandoned anymore.

Mini Shot

(Y/N) sat on the roof of the foster home, the cool breeze brushing against their face as they stared out into the dimly lit neighborhood wrapping their read hoodie tighter around themselves. As they sat something caught their eye—a shadowy figure across the way from them perfectly out of view, watching them from a distance. Their heart skipped a beat at first in fear, However after a moment a wash of a unknown familiarity seemed to hit.

Before they could stop themselves, (Y/N) called out softly, "Thank you."

The figure stepped into the light just enough for (Y/N) to catch a glimpse of their hand as they gave them a casual thumbs up.

Without a word, he turned and walked away, vanishing into the night as (Y/N) watched. A sense of pride in Wade's step as he headed off. He'd done it—he'd helped his kid in some way.

And that was enough..

For now

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello ! Just so Agatha all along and I have a request if it's ok 😊

How Agatha will convince witch!reader who has a crush on her to join her in the witch road 👉👈

Gn reader if possible

Thank you ! 😁

Agatha would probably be aware of your feelings in all honesty, and she couldn’t blame you! She’s amazing!

However she’s probably use this infatuation with her to her advantage when her and ‘teen’ come over to your home, following the trail of magic that drew them there. It was noticeable, stronger the other witches she’s recruited but still there was room for growth and new powers.

‘What tricks are we going to have to use to recruit this witch/wiccan?’ Teen asked Agatha as they stood on your doorstep.

‘No tricks, this one’s got a little thing for me, it’s adorable but it means that most of the work in convincing them has been cut out for us.’ Agatha replied as she went to knock on the door, only for it to open on its own to reveal you on the other side.

‘How did?’ Teen questioned.

‘I could sense you the moment you drove into the driveway, your magic is far more potent than others.’ You answered as you stepped to one side with a welcoming smile. ‘Want to step inside and continue this conversation because I don’t think the neighbours will want to hear about the sales pitch you’re bound to give me into joining your cult.’ You add.

‘It’s not a cult it’s a coven.’ Teen interrupts but you weren’t listening when Agatha moved past you, making sure to brush her hand against the back of yours as she does, and immediately you felt your resolve to stand your ground crumble like a deck of cards. It must’ve been obvious as teen only looked at you knowingly as he past into your house and once they were both inside, you shut the door harder then you should’ve but at this point you wanted this to be over with.

‘Go on then, convince me to join you on your journey to the witches’ road.’ You crossed your arms over your chest.

‘I’m assuming you’re more than aware of the fact that if you were to make it to the end of the road, any wish your heart desires can be granted.’ Agatha started.

‘I do know this factoid, yes.’ You said and Agatha crept closer to you until you were a hair’s width away from one another as she now spoke lowly. ‘Then I’m also lead to assume that you know that extends to crushes, infatuations, all that important stuff also.’

‘Yes but I’d much rather the feeling to be mutual without the usage of magic, as ironic as that sounds.’ You replied as you stared deeply into her beautiful eyes.

‘And it can be,’ Agatha whispered as she grasped your hands with her own, intertwining your fingers, ‘I really need you by my side y/n as my moral support, my confidant and my strength during the most difficult situations that we’ll face.’ Agatha could see that you were buying her sales pitch into getting you on the witches road, but knew she couldn’t stop there and decided to make this visit short and sweet she adds.

‘I wouldn’t want anyone else to join me on the witches’ road other then you my dear, you have the potential to be the most powerful witch/wiccan in our coven. All those other witches can barely hold a candle to your fire. I need you.’ She finishes and teen had to give it to Agatha, she was certainly an actress when she needed to be as he watched you both as though he was watching his favourite drama.

You were at war with yourself. You swore that you wouldn’t resort to magic for even the most simplest things, never less the witches’s road, you knew the stories of how dangerous it was but your infatuation with Agatha tended to lead you into doing something stupid; even agreeing to going on the Witches’ road with nothing but the hope that Agatha might actually see you for once.

However before you could reason with yourself, your mouth moved faster then your brain could intervene with logic and common sense. ‘Fine, I’ll join.’

‘Yes!’ Agatha and teen cried as Agatha brought you into her arms, holding you tight so that you didn’t see the smirk across her face, that wasn’t so hard if anything it was barely even took her five minutes to get you to say yes; she didn’t understand why she didn’t come to you first just to get it over and done with, every other witch before you was a tougher nut to crack then the last. You were merely the reward for a hard days work.

‘You won’t regret this darling, that I promise you along with power, love and so much more.’ Agatha tells you as she rubs your back.

You poor, idiotic fool, let’s pray you do survive the road and not die with a broken heart when you realise the truth…

[urdreamydoodles]

Hi! I saw you were taking requests and wanted to see your take on everyone dealing with a reader who's a smart ass? Thought it be a funny concept about something you'll enjoy 🤍

X-Men x Reader (Part.1)

You're a smart ass (Part.1)

You have a playful and sarcastic personality that adds humor and lightness to your relationship with your partner. Your sarcasm creates both moments of laughter and occasional tension, but ultimately strengthens your relationships.

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Erik Lehnsherr, Bobby Drake, Wade Wilson, Jean Grey, Wanda Maximoff & Pietro Maximoff

I confirm it's a funny concept! Thank you for that one ♡ Hope you enjoy. — Love, Marie, your friendly marvel fangirl

Logan Howlett (Wolverine)

- Logan has always admired your wit, but when your sharp tongue turns into you being a bit of a smart-ass, it both amuses and irritates him. He raises a brow every time you make a snarky remark, half-impressed but also battling the urge to roll his eyes. “You think you’re funny, huh, darlin’?” he’d growl under his breath, though his lips twitch into a grin despite himself.

- While he’d try to keep things serious when the situation called for it, your teasing often gets the best of him. Like that time in the Danger Room when you outmaneuvered him with a smirk and a cocky quip, Logan pretended to be pissed, but you could see the pride in his eyes. “Better watch it, or I might not go easy on you next time,” he’d say with a low rumble, knowing full well that he’s too soft on you.

- There are moments when your sass pushes his patience, and he’ll let out a deep sigh, rubbing his temples in that way he does when he’s had just about enough. But instead of snapping, he pulls you close, growling something like, “You’re gonna be the death of me,” before kissing you fiercely, reminding you who’s in charge — at least until the next time you decide to test him.

- Despite all the banter, Logan wouldn’t trade your fiery spirit for anything. Deep down, he loves how sharp and quick-witted you are, even if it means dealing with your sarcasm on a daily basis. You keep him on his toes, and after everything he’s been through, your energy and humor are a breath of fresh air. Sometimes, when the two of you are alone, he’ll lean in and say, “You might be a pain in my ass, but you’re my pain in the ass,” with that gruff, affectionate tone that never fails to make your heart skip a beat.

Remy LeBeau (Gambit)

- Remy is no stranger to charm and wit, so when you sass him, he’s ready to dish it right back. He loves the playful banter between you two, and half the time, he’s probably encouraging it just to see what you’ll come up with next. “Ah, ma chérie, you t’ink you can outsmart Remy, eh?” he’d say, a devilish grin lighting up his face as he leans in closer, daring you to keep going.

- When you make a smart-ass remark, especially in front of the other X-Men, Remy can’t help but smirk proudly. He’ll throw an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close and whispering, “You gon’ get us in trouble, but I like it.” He’s never one to shy away from mischief, and with you by his side, the two of you are unstoppable when it comes to pulling off clever pranks or getting the upper hand in any situation.

- Every now and then, Remy will try to one-up you with his own smart comments, leading to playful verbal sparring matches that only deepen your connection. But even when he’s trying to get the last word in, he never minds when you come out on top. “Damn, chérie, you too good at this,” he’d laugh, eyes sparkling with admiration as he wraps you in his arms.

- On the rare occasions when your sass catches him off guard, you might notice a flicker of surprise before he recovers with that signature grin. “Ah, you keep me on my toes, mon amour,” he’d murmur, pressing a kiss to your temple. Remy loves every part of you — the wit, the sass, and the undeniable chemistry between you two. No matter what, he’s always ready for the next round of banter, knowing it only brings you closer together.

Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler)

- Kurt is gentle and kind, so when you hit him with a sarcastic or smart-ass comment, he’s more likely to chuckle than to take offense. He’ll tilt his head, a curious smile playing on his lips as he tries to figure out if you’re serious or just teasing him. “Are you making fun of me, mein Schatz?” he’d ask, his voice full of playful curiosity.

- Despite his more serious nature at times, Kurt is never one to shy away from your banter. If anything, he enjoys your quick wit because it keeps things light between you two, especially during difficult missions or stressful situations. Whenever you throw a clever remark his way, he’d respond with a thoughtful hum, pretending to be deep in thought before adding, “You know, I think I love you even more for that.”

- Kurt has an incredibly patient demeanor, and while your sass might fluster him at first, he always handles it with grace. He might try to counter with a more philosophical or heartfelt response, which often makes you laugh even harder. “Ah, mein Liebe, you are too clever for me,” he’d say with a soft chuckle, before pulling you into a warm embrace. Even when you push his buttons, he can’t help but love you more for it.

- When the teasing gets a little too much, Kurt will lean into his affectionate side, making it impossible for you to keep up the act. He’ll teleport behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, and whisper, “No matter how much you tease, I know your heart.” His sweet words, paired with his playful nature, always bring a sense of comfort to the banter, reminding you that, above all, you’re deeply loved.

Scott Summers (Cyclops)

- Scott is a bit more serious than the others, and your smart-ass comments tend to catch him off guard. He’s used to people following orders and being straightforward, so when you hit him with a sarcastic quip, he’s not always sure how to react at first. He’ll frown slightly, not out of anger, but out of pure confusion. “You’re kidding, right?” he’d ask, trying to gauge your tone.

- Despite his initial bewilderment, Scott can’t help but admire your sharp mind. He may act exasperated, but deep down, he appreciates that you’re not afraid to challenge him, even if it’s through sarcasm. You keep him grounded, reminding him that not everything has to be so serious all the time. “You know, you’ve got a smart mouth,” he’d say with a smirk, shaking his head in mock disapproval.

- When you sass him in front of the team, Scott tries to maintain his composure, but there’s always a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He’ll shoot you a quick look that says, “We’ll talk about this later,” but you know he secretly loves the way you keep him on his toes. It’s a side of you that only he gets to see, and despite his stoic nature, it brings out the softer side of him.

- After a long day of leading the X-Men, Scott finds your sass refreshing. He’ll sit next to you, finally letting his guard down as you tease him about being “Mr. Perfect” all the time. “Alright, I get it,” he’d say, his voice filled with warmth and amusement. “You’re right — maybe I do need to lighten up.” And in those moments, he’d pull you close, appreciating every part of your smart-ass self.

Erik Lehnsherr (Magneto)

- Erik, always the strategist and thinker, isn’t used to someone challenging him with quick wit and sharp humor, especially not someone as close to him as you. The first time you throw a smart-ass comment his way, he pauses, his cold eyes narrowing, but there’s a glint of amusement behind the stern expression. “Careful, little one,” he’d murmur, his voice low and commanding, “you’re playing a dangerous game.”

- Despite his typically serious demeanor, Erik finds your sharp tongue intriguing. He’s surrounded by people who either fear or revere him, so your sass brings something refreshing into his life. Occasionally, when you get a bit too clever for your own good, Erik will raise an eyebrow and smirk, “You really think you’re clever, don’t you?” His tone is dangerous, but you both know there’s a playful undertone hiding beneath the menace.

- Erik’s response to your snarky comments often depends on his mood. In darker moments, he might grow irritated, his patience tested by your quips, especially if you question his decisions. “I’m not in the mood for jokes,” he’d snap, though there’s a deep affection behind his frustration. But when he’s feeling more relaxed, Erik has been known to surprise you with his own dry, sarcastic retorts. “Perhaps I should just let you lead the revolution next time,” he’d quip with a smirk, his voice thick with sarcasm, but his eyes soft with affection.

- At the end of the day, Erik admires your courage and intelligence, even if you use them to give him a hard time. There’s a sense of respect in how he handles your smart-ass attitude — after all, he’s seen too much of the world to be fazed by a little sass. In quiet moments, he’ll pull you close, whispering in your ear, “You may be impossible sometimes, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Bobby Drake (Iceman)

- Bobby loves a good joke, so when you start tossing smart-ass remarks his way, he’s all in for the banter. “Oh, is that how it’s gonna be?” he’d ask, grinning from ear to ear as he prepares to throw a sarcastic comment right back at you. With Bobby, the sass only escalates into playful teasing that often ends with the two of you laughing uncontrollably.

- He’s the kind of guy who thrives on humor, so your quick wit only strengthens your relationship. Whether it’s during training or just hanging out at the mansion, Bobby always finds a way to keep the mood light, and he loves that you can match his energy. “Wow, look at you, Miss Smart-Ass,” he’ll say after you roast him with a particularly sharp comment. “Guess I’m not the only funny one around here.”

- There are times when Bobby’s insecurities come through, especially when your teasing touches on sensitive topics like his struggles with his powers or his place in the team. In those moments, he might brush off your comment with a forced laugh, but you can tell it’s bothered him. Later, he’ll admit, “Hey, about earlier… I know you didn’t mean anything by it. I just… you know, I’ve got my stuff to deal with.”

- Despite the occasional hiccup, Bobby loves that you keep him on his toes. Your sarcasm brings a balance to his humor, creating a dynamic that keeps things fun and light-hearted even during the toughest times. After all, he’s always been the class clown, but with you by his side, he feels like he’s met his match. “You know what?” he’d say, pulling you into a playful hug. “I think we might be the funniest couple in the mansion. No one else stands a chance.”

Wade Wilson (Deadpool)

- Being with Wade means endless chaos, and your quick wit fits right in. Wade absolutely adores your sass, and from the moment you drop your first sarcastic comment, he’s all over it. “Oh, look who’s got a smart mouth! I like it, babe!” He’s practically bouncing with excitement, eyes gleaming behind his mask. Your banter becomes a regular part of your relationship, with Wade taking every opportunity to match your smart-ass remarks with ridiculous quips of his own.

- Wade’s response to your sarcasm is often over-the-top, always aiming for laughs. You’d roll your eyes at something absurd he does, and Wade, without missing a beat, would respond with, “Oh, did you roll your eyes at me? That’s it, we’re getting a divorce.” It never fails to make you chuckle, and you know that he appreciates how you can keep up with his crazy antics. He loves that you never back down, even when he’s being the most outrageous version of himself.

- However, there are moments when Wade’s insecurity creeps through, particularly when it comes to his appearance or his mental health. If your sarcasm hits a little too close to home, Wade might joke it off, but you can sense the shift in his tone. “Yeah, I mean, who wouldn’t want to be with a guy whose face looks like a melted pizza?” he’d say with a forced grin. You always reassure him, showing him that your wit comes from a place of love, and Wade, with his usual dramatics, would throw himself into your arms, “Aww, babe, you really do love me, scars and all!”

- Despite his unpredictability, Wade loves how your humor keeps him grounded. Your ability to match his energy and throw in some sarcasm helps him feel normal in the whirlwind that is his life. “You know, I think we make a pretty kick-ass duo,” Wade would say, wrapping his arms around you. “You with your snark and me with my endless charm — we’re unstoppable!” And though the world may be chaotic, your relationship with Wade is filled with love, laughter, and plenty of smart-ass remarks.

Jean Grey (Phoenix)

- Jean is known for her calm demeanor, so your sarcasm catches her off guard at first. She’s used to people being more respectful around her, especially considering her immense power, but your playful attitude draws out a side of her that she doesn’t often get to express. The first time you make a smart-ass comment, Jean raises an eyebrow, her lips twitching into a small smile. “Oh, so we’re doing this now, huh?” she’d say, her voice light with amusement.

- As your relationship develops, Jean grows to love your quick wit. It brings a sense of normalcy to her life, something she desperately needs amidst the chaos of being an X-Man. She enjoys the way your banter makes her feel human, reminding her that she’s more than just a telepathic, omega-level mutant. “You’re lucky I don’t read your mind more often,” she’d tease after you make a sarcastic remark, though you both know she’d never actually do that without your permission.

- There are moments, however, when Jean’s powers make her feel overwhelmed and vulnerable. If your sarcasm comes at the wrong time, she might take it to heart, her telepathic abilities amplifying the impact of your words. “I’m not in the mood for jokes,” she’d say softly, her eyes downcast. You’d quickly realize that she’s struggling, and after a gentle apology, Jean would nod, grateful for your understanding. “Thank you,” she’d whisper, her voice filled with affection.

- Despite the occasional tension, Jean appreciates how your sharp mind challenges her. Your smart-ass attitude keeps her grounded, helping her navigate the pressures of her powers and responsibilities. “You always know how to keep me on my toes,” she’d say with a smile, leaning into your embrace. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” And while Jean may be one of the most powerful beings in the world, your sarcasm reminds her that she’s also just a woman, capable of love and laughter.

Wanda Maximoff (Scarlet Witch)

- Wanda, initially reserved and quiet, is surprised by your quick wit and sarcasm. She’s not used to people being so casual with her, especially given the weight of her powers and her past. The first time you make a smart-ass remark, Wanda’s eyes widen in surprise before a small smile pulls at her lips. “Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be,” she’d say, amusement dancing in her eyes as she begins to warm up to your teasing nature.

- As your relationship deepens, Wanda grows to appreciate how your humor helps lighten the heavy burdens she carries. Your sarcastic comments often draw her out of her thoughts, bringing her back to the present. “You think you’re funny, don’t you?” she’d tease back, a smirk on her lips, her Sokovian accent slipping through as she gives you a playful nudge. She loves how you can make her laugh, even when she’s feeling down.

- However, there are moments when Wanda’s emotions become overwhelming, and your sarcasm might accidentally cut too deep. If she’s in a particularly vulnerable state, she might take your comment the wrong way, her powers flickering dangerously as her mood shifts. “I’m not in the mood for jokes,” she’d say, her tone sharp. You’d quickly reassure her, explaining that you didn’t mean it, and Wanda, ever self-aware, would soften. “I know,” she’d sigh, taking your hand, “I just… I need some time.”

- Despite the occasional misstep, Wanda loves how your quick wit keeps her grounded. Your playful banter reminds her that not everything needs to be serious, and it helps her find moments of joy in an otherwise heavy world. “You always know how to make me smile,” she’d say softly, leaning into your embrace. “Even when I try to be serious, you just… bring out the light in me.” Your smart-ass attitude becomes a source of comfort for her, a reminder that she’s not alone in the darkness.

Pietro Maximoff (Quicksilver)

- Pietro is quick in every sense of the word, so your sharp tongue and sarcastic remarks don’t catch him off guard — in fact, he thrives on it. The first time you throw a snarky comment his way, Pietro’s already grinning before you’ve even finished. “You’re fast, but I’m faster,” he’d quip, zipping around you in a blur before coming to a stop with a smug look on his face. “Think you can keep up, smart-ass?”

- Your sarcasm and quick wit become a game to him, a challenge he’s always ready to meet head-on. Pietro loves the verbal sparring, and his playful nature means that he’s constantly teasing you back. “Oh, you’re really asking for it, aren’t you?” he’d say with a grin after you make a particularly clever remark, speeding off before you can respond. It’s a back-and-forth that keeps your relationship exciting, always filled with laughter and light-hearted banter.

- However, there are times when your sarcasm touches on his insecurities — like his tendency to rush through life, or his complicated relationship with Wanda. In those rare moments, Pietro might bristle, his smile fading as he crosses his arms. “Yeah, well, not everything can be a joke,” he’d mutter, clearly hurt. You always know how to handle him though, and after a bit of reassurance, Pietro’s back to his usual self, cracking jokes and challenging you to keep up with him.

- Pietro loves how your smart-ass attitude matches his fast-paced lifestyle. Your quick comebacks keep him on his toes, and he adores how you never let him get away with being too cocky. “You might be the only person who can keep up with me,” he’d say, pulling you into a tight hug after a particularly playful argument. And while life with Pietro is always fast and chaotic, your sarcasm adds a layer of fun and connection that makes your relationship all the more special.

[avocado-writing]

Not a request but just imagine DP & Logan taking such good care of you on your birthday.

Literal Princess/Prince/Royal treatment.

God and don’t even get me started on how good they’d be to you in the bedroom. Logan and Wade always make sure to treat you good but just imagine how much more special they’d try to make it.

You wanna be Eiffel towered? Absolutely it’s your birthday

You want them both in one hole? Deal. Logans already rock hard and Wade’s grabbing the lube.

You just wanna watch them fuck? Wade’s never been more in love with you.

minors dni

”can I watch you two fuck? please?”

you say the question with doe eyes and twisting hands, like you’re asking to stay out late rather watch your boyfriends go to town on each other. Logan chokes on his mouthful of beer at the unexpected request. Wade lights up.

“pookie, I love you. marry me,” he says, deadpan earnest. you giggle as he pulls you in for a kiss. Logan harrumphs but doesn’t seem too sour about it, it’s been a nice celebration of your birthday after all; taking you to all your favourite places, watching you light up at the fancy café they treated you to lunch at, spoiling you rotten in every shop you wandered into.

so maybe this is just the icing on the cake for you. who are they to deny you every single little thing you want? you’re worth indulging after all, and they both love you. (they love each other too, but those confessions are left for hazy post-coital cuddles which slip into sleep).

“fine,” Logan sighs, as if it’s some great feat, as if he hasn’t been inside Wade a dozen times already. you squeak and clap with joy before sprinting into the bedroom.

“cmon, old guy. keep up,” Wade says with a wink and a slap to Logan’s ass. he growls a warning… but follows anyway.

you set yourself up in the chair in the corner of the room, grabbing one of the bottles of lube the three of you have stored around the place and throwing it to Wade. he likes to make a show of stripping for you, you whoop when he takes his shirt off and swings it around. Logan is more utilitarian about it, tugging his flannel over his head and his jeans off his legs, pushing Wade down into the mattress the first chance he gets. Wade yelps and you gasp in anticipation, hand crawling lower on your body.

”oh, buy a girl dinner first…” Wade hums, Logan silences him with a ferocious kiss. the kind which has their teeth colliding. out the corner of his eye he’s aware of you shucking off your shorts, dipping your fingers in your underwear to start touching yourself. Logan ruts his hips against Wade’s, grinning against his lips at how into this he’s getting.

“Mouth, you talk a big game for someone who gets this hard just from being kissed.”

“you think that’ll work on me? I like being bullied, it makes me cum. get back down here.”

Wade tugs him by his blowjob tufts and kisses him longer, before letting his hand reach down to cradle Logan’s cock.

“slow down, Red. we gotta put on a show, remember?”

they turn to where you watch mesmerised, bucking up into your own hand, mouth soft and agape at the sight before you. you grin.

“I like being in the director’s chair. Wade, can you get on top?” you breathe, pleading. you both look to Logan for his confirmation, and he nods. fuck it, why not. it’s your birthday after all.

“as you wish,” Wade says in a perfect mimicry of Princess Bride, and flips Logan back-down into the mattress.

they go slow for you, and you eke out your orgasms to their lovemaking. Wade bends Logan over and eats him out as you instruct him what to do with his tongue. Logan uses your favourite toy to stretch Wade open. when they fuck their eyes are half glued to each other, half wandering to you sweaty and writhing on that damn chair. once they start properly, it doesn’t take long for them to both finish, making a mess on the bed. you come around your fingers and whine in pleasure.

Logan waits for you to relax before picking you up off the chair. you squeak.

“Lo—!”

“what, you think you’re not gettin’ a turn?”

he places you into Wade’s willing arms, and you feel they’re both beginning to get hard again. ah, the inevitable exhaustion which comes from dating two mutants.

“happy birthday, baby…”

“boys…”

it’s the last word you’re able to say for a while.

[bomber-grl]

Peter Parker Dating hc 🕸️

Pairing(s):Peter Parker (Tom hollands)x Gn!Reader (both civilian and superhero included)

As a civilian you were probably unaware of his secret identity for a good awhile

Until you inevitably found out and began dating

How you found out well, well let’s just say it wasn’t ideal

You had been friends for awhile and the only way Peter would ever let you near him or his room (while having a crush on you) would be if he forgot something at your house or something

So you knocked and May let you know he wasn’t there but still let you in

I mean she wasn’t just gonna let you stand outside waiting for him, if anything he was to blame for not being responsible about the time you two established for meeting up

Queue you walking into his room and he’s half suited up and the both of you are just staring at eachother

That interaction led to some discourse, obviously

But after the initial shock you (surprisingly) moved on

Now if you’re a superhero working for stark for some reason then you met that way and there’s no secret identity reveal

Tbh the two of you have to have something in common

Whether its interests in comics or “nerd” stuff

something had to have led to the two of you getting together

Or maybe you’re just into easily flustered, needy men, who knows 🤷‍♀️

Like if you’re a hero then you met that way and share that in common (including tech if you’re into that)

So just imagine Peter, whose very nervous/ excited, just absolutely rambling about some interest that was briefly mentioned and that you both shared

The thing is, you’re on a date right now and he’s absolutely embarrassing himself (in his opinion)

He’d try to plan everything to perfection and gift you what he can even if he feels it might pale to what you’re used to (if you’re wealthy)

Your first date was especially memorable since not only did he display his nervousness so obviously but it was as if the universe couldn’t let his plan run smoothly

He had tripped, stuttered, made too many mistakes to count, just a piece of work all in all

To you though? It was endearing

He had wanted your first date to be the upmost perfection, even if it wasn’t an average persons “ideal” by the end-

It didn’t matter because you could tell the genuine affection he had for you so much so that he had planned this all, and unfortunately (for him) embarrassed himself beyond return in front of you

“Kill me now”

- Peter probably

He doesn’t really seem like it, if anything he seems pretty self actualized but there’s obviously moments where he feels a bit sorry (?) for the lack of a better word

He’s just always clumsy, and getting flustered easily

Especially around you

So although he might think that you probably think less than ideally of him, he couldn’t be more wrong

If anything it adds to his charm and anything he does is pretty endearing

So when you decide to share such words with Peter while you’re chilling in his room

Well, he’s floored

He thanks you but then that spirals into him stuttering and tripping over himself

Despite the fact that you complimented him to not only ease his worries but also to just let him know-

He’s groveling (exaggeration) and apologizing for, again, being himself…

Blud needs to chill out…

Usually after missions or whatever they’re called- Peter usually has minor injuries or cuts

How do you know this? You’re his main source of comfort so he’s sneak in through your window into your room as often as he can

A particular moment was when you both decided to have a sleep over at your house

It was definitely a huge progress in your relationship but you should’ve known better

While you were asleep, he snuck off and att the end of his little escapade, he snuck back in

Only thing is that he returned back through the window he snuck out from just to be met with the lights on

He visibly sunk at your disappointed gaze once he noticed you up

He isn’t in the best state so you take it easy on him and just go rummaging through your cabinets- you hoped to have something for his wounds around there somewhere

As you’re searching, Peter has taken it upon himself to convince you his injuries are nothing, just go back to bed, and is just overall downplaying his condition

You pause and just stare at him

Obviously he’s taken by surprise but he realizes he can’t do anything to stop you and just lets you continue

Even while your cleaning his wounds or bandaging him up he’s making jokes about the situation

Well maybe not jokes but we all know how rambly he gets when he’s nervous

Somehow digging himself a grave right there

On that same page

We’re all aware of how difficult it is for Peter to balance his civilian and superhero life

I’m not up for debate- it might as well be canon

He’s always having to leave school for superhero work in which it has consequences or he leaves superhero work and still has consequences in the franchise so respectfully: 🤫🤐)

Peter tries super hard to be there and include you in what’s going on but sometimes he needs to cancel or leave hang outs abruptly

You understand this obviously but it’s still upsetting, not as much if you’re a superhero id imagine

But yknow

Still annoying asf

You don’t give him hell for it even if you want to because either 1. You do the same thing (superhero) 2. He can’t help it and he already gets enough shit

He’s also super protective

Especially if you’re a civilian

It’s sort of endearing/ annoying- somehow both simultaneously

Now if you’re a hero/ avenger then you both understand things about your secret identities

Particularly about hiding them

Yknow how Ned would always help Peter out? Well you and Peter do that for eachother

If u have family or others who aren’t aware like friends- Peter has your back and vice versa

It’s just the price you need to pay

Especially since it’s not easy balancing lives

[romanoffshouse]

Wanda: Natasha and Yelena had a fight today. It scares me how many knives were involved.

Clint: There weren't any knives involved.

Wanda: That's what scares me.

[oswildin]

Fate (Loki x Witch!Reader)

Summary: You’re a witch who has been visiting Loki, but he doesn’t know your intentions, nor whether you are even real… But talk about fate and his place in the universe, leaves him with more questions than answers. Set around the time of Thor The Dark World, before Frigga’s death and references the events of Disney+ Loki series.

Rating: PG/All Ages

A/N: Reader has GN pronouns/no descriptors or name, but is described as a witch. Inspired by my pov on TikTok, which is inspired by Alys & Daemon from HOTD.

LOKI MASTERLIST

The crowd cheered and clapped, utterly delighted and enthused by their new King. He was their leader, their ruler, their light in the darkness… And they adored him. They saw him as worthy of his place upon the throne, accepted him completely without resistance… He basked in the golden light that was shining on him, arms spread wide in pride and acceptance of their adoration.

It was everything—

“—you have always wanted… isn’t it?”

The voice broke him from his celebration, his glory… His arms lowered, the royal rouge cape around his neck suddenly feeling weightier. His shoulders sagged, the victorious smile that he had been moments ago fading from his face.

“I see Sif… The Warriors Three…” The voice continued, light yet holding a weight which only seemed to make the cape draped around him feel heavier somehow. “Faces of those you do not know the names of…”

He let out a breath, his back remaining to the one had interrupted his glorious moment.

“And yet… I see no one of great importance to you.”

Green shimmer fell over the crowd that had been cheering before him, each nameless face disappearing, each voice ceasing as the illusion faded. The weight of the illusionary cape also dissipated as it shimmered away from his shoulders, the golden hue of the throne room returning to his reality.

A cell.

Loki’s jaw tightened, his hands clasped behind his back as he stared out of the golden barrier that kept him from the outside world, more inmates entering Odin’s prison to be locked away.

“Don’t you find it strange?” The voice continued, a feigned curiosity in their tone. Loki slowly turned on his heel, his cyan eyes finally landing on the figure of the voice… The figure who had been visiting him as of late. He did not know who they were, or why they were there… He didn’t even know if they were real or merely another illusion.

Your eyes held Loki’s, unwavering, standing in the middle of his white walled cell. A faint smirk tugged at your lip, almost indiscernible as you took a small step closer. He had yet to say a word.

“How those who you regard as family are no where to be seen?” You pressed, probed, watching his reaction closely. Loki paced leisurely towards the chair in his cell before coming to a stop behind it, his hands moving to rest upon the back of the chair. His body leaned forwards, the chair supporting some of his weight as he narrowed his eyes, tilting his head faintly.

“It’s your illusion, is it not?” You asked, raising a brow, a slight shrug. “And yet you did not conjure them in it.”

“They do not matter.” He finally spoke, voice low yet holding an edge of lightness in it to match the dismissal of his words.

“No?”

“No.”

You hummed thoughtfully, letting out a breath, turning away from him to let your eyes wander over what items he was permitted in his cell - books, a small ornate table, a cot… You moved to the table, finding a book on its surface as you reached to gently pick it up, eyeing it.

Tangible.

Loki’s brows twitched slightly, lips pursing. Pushing himself from the chair, he once more began slowly pacing, not from restlessness but intrigue.

“You are a liar.” You stated simply, making Loki let out a huff of sardonic laughter.

“Am I supposed to be impressed by that observation?” He raised a brow, a hint of wryness to his words. “It’s a statement that quite a few have expressed about me.”

“I mean, you are lying to yourself.”

You let the book drop back to the table with a slight thud, Loki’s amusement quickly turning into irritation, observing as you glanced at him over your shoulder. A breathy laugh left your lips at the spark of anger in his eyes.

“Your anger blinds you.” You stated, making Loki shake his head slightly. “You let it control you.”

“It guides me.” He argued.

“Your actions say otherwise…” You sighed, moving to the chair he had just been stood by, lowering yourself to take a seat.

“My actions?” Loki repeated, a hint of disbelief. “I was merely giving truth-“ He continued lowly, his steps changing direction to stalk towards you. “-to the lie I have been fed my entire life…” He stopped before you, his sharp gaze boring into your unfazed eyes. “That I was born to be a King.”

You leaned back in the chair, elbows resting on its arms, casual - leisurely almost. It made Loki’s jaw twitch. “Perhaps those who strive for the crown are the least suited to wear it-“

“Do not lecture me.” Loki’s sharp tone cut you off, a dangerous edge to his voice. It was a warning. Maybe even a plea. You remained unbothered, looking up at him as his tall figure cast a long shadow over you. Silence fell between you, the faint hum of the golden barrier filling the space as you held one another’s gazes, almost daring the other to look away first.

“It is not a prize to be won…” You murmured. “But a burden to bear.” A pause. “You know this.”

Loki made a sound of frustration, eyes fluttering as his head snapped away, turning sharply on his heel to pace once again. You straightened in the chair, leaning forwards slightly as you watched him.

“I love Thor more dearly than any of you, but you know what he is.”

Loki’s steps halted, his posture tensing as he heard his own voice fill the space, words he had once spoken. His back remained turned towards you, his hands clenching at his sides.

“He's arrogant, he's reckless, he's dangerous! You saw how he was today. Is that what Asgard needs from its King?”

The question Loki had once uttered echoed slightly around the cell, almost taunting him. It was then he slowly, almost reluctantly, turned to look at you, seeing you now stood. You were approaching him, your expression unreadable. “Dangerous…” You breathed out, furrowing your brows. “And yet, that is what you sought to be during your time on Midgard…” Loki released an audible breath, his chest heaving slightly. “All because you desired a throne… Correct?”

Loki’s eyes searched yours, hearing the doubt in your voice. It was like you could see right through him, and he disliked it. He loathed it. It unsettled him in a way he hadn’t felt before. And the worst part was… You were right. You knew it was more than his so-called desire for a throne… It was about him wanting to be seen as worthy, to step out from the shadow he had been shrouded in, to avoid the consequences of failing Thanos…

“All your life… you have sought to command your own fate…” You spoke, almost softly, barely above a whisper, now stood right before him. Loki remained silent again. “But you… you are piece on the board…” Your hand slowly raised, tentative. Loki watched it cautiously, a faint sheen in his eyes as he blinked. “As am I…” Your fingers made contact with the skin of his cheek, light but…

Tangible.

Real.

Loki released a breath, unable to understand your reasons, your intent.

“There are things in this universe that are older than you or I…” You continued quietly, your eyes flickering over his features. “Stories and roles at play that we are not able to see or fathom.”

“And what is my place in all of it?” The words left Loki in a whisper, the touch of your fingers on his cheek somehow comforting. He had been alone for nearly a year, besides his mother’s illusionary visits… Unable to touch, to be held. A small, almost solemn smile tugged at your lips.

“Your place…” You raised your chin faintly. “Is not now, but in the past.” Loki’s brows furrowed at your words, they didn’t make much sense. They felt deliberately cryptic and vague, but… truthful. “And that past is the present… And the future.”

Loki’s hand moved quick, his fingers wrapping around your wrist of the hand that was touching his face, his grip firm but gentle. You took a breath, eyes flickering to his hand around your wrist.

“Speak plainly.” He demanded, his tone softer than he had intended.

“I do.” You whispered. Loki’s grip tightened ever so slightly, not to cause fear or pain, but almost in desperation to understand.

“Your birthright… was to die!”

Loki’s grip faltered as Odin’s words echoed in the cell, words his father had spoken to him so coldly and cruelly… Right before he was thrown in his cell… Alone.

“I don’t want to be alone.”

It was his voice. But not words he could recount ever saying. At least… not aloud. His breath caught, his hand pulling away from your wrist as if you had scalded him, the tears now evident in his gaze as he took a stumbling step back. His lips were parted, brows creasing in a mix of anger and confusion.

“Witch.” He breathed out, but unlike most who uttered the word, there was no malice. Your hand remained in the air a second longer before dropping to your side, blinking.

“I’m afraid so.” You smirked faintly, wry.

Loki shook his head, hand moving to run through his raven hair, willing his composure to return. “They do not see you.” He stated, glancing out towards the passing Einherjar who were doing their patrol.

“They do not.” You confirmed, nodding once. “You are no stranger to magic.” You raised a brow. “You know it’s a simple spell.”

Loki huffed out a wry sound, closing his eyes as he turned away from you again. “Your path is set.” You spoke again, voice resolute yet holding a hint of sympathy. “And I am sorry.” You whispered, making Loki frown. “But all paths must come to an end.”

Your words hung in the air between you, Loki processing its cryptic nature, a shiver going down his spine. It sounded like a promise. But one that you seemed to be regretting having to make.

No.

Loki spun on his heel, lips parted as he went to reply, to deny his fate, but as his gaze fell to the spot you had been stood in, he found it empty. You were gone. Without a trace. Or so he thought. His eyes dropped to the book you had picked up earlier on the ornate table, brows furrowing as he noticed the cover had changed. Tentatively, he approached it, eyes fixed on the book. Leaning down, his slender fingers grasped the book, picking it up as he took in the cover.

Yggdrasil.

He let out a breath, unsure of what it meant, eyes flickering around his cell to search for any sign of you. But nothing. Questions. He had so many. But he felt he knew you wouldn’t give them so easily anyway. And so, all he could do… was wait. Let his mind go over your words. As he looked back down at the book, he found it had returned to its original state, the leather no longer holding a carving of Yggdrasil.

Witch, indeed.

[silverskyeline]

: ̗̀➛ happy wip wednesday! rockstar!logan x popstar!wade

"riiiight, gotta keep the fans at a distance, huh? smart, smaaart. . . i promise i'm not the kind of fangirl to hide in your basement. if i was i wouldn't have just told you that," he rambles on, following closely behind logan like a lost puppy, "the attic though? now that's-"

logan stops, wade walks directly into his toned back, stumbling backwards like a connecting bumper car.

taking a nice, deep, calming breath that does nothing to soothe the storm brewing within him, logan turns to face him once more.

"you know, you're taller than your wiki says. you should really do something about that," wade sighs, hands on his hips "unless you're the one that edited it. anyone can edit it, by the way - wikipedia, total garbage fire. i once had a back-and-forth fight with a mod while i tried to change the 50 states of america to just say: 'canada'. rest assured! i am banned for life."

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

will drop this fic on saturday, a shorter fic at 1.1k words - but hope you guys enjoy it! thanks to @dott-reblogs for the request!

[periprose]

Logan Gains a Guardian Angel

Logan Howlett x Angel!Reader

You're a mutant with white wings. You go by the name Angel, and you're best friends with Logan. You could call yourselves two peas in a pod, two loners who are only loyal to each other, supposedly platonic- but you're deeply in love with him.

Logan thinks of you as his guardian Angel, because you always keep him to a higher standard- he wants to be better because of you. He doesn't know what he did to deserve you. To him, you're heaven sent- trauma and all.

Knives Drip Chocolate

Logan comforts you after you have a panic attack involving a knife in the X-Mansion's kitchen

When Flight Comes to Fire

After a fiery accident during a mission, your wings are burned. Logan's desperate that you'll be okay and he visits you at the hospital.