#n like wow that’s me that’s where I get it fuck

[papaya-twinks]

lando x reader where they go to a halloween party with matching costumes because they are going to pretend they are dating (they agreed to do this because an old schoolmate of the reader, who was in love with her, would be at the party and he used to be strange with her, kind of stalker)

The problem is that the reader can't stand Lando because she finds him very childish and immature, but he was the only one in her group of friends available to accompany her. What she doesn't know is that Lando has always been in love with her, but after he realized that she didn't like him that much, he started to irritate and provoke her as a way of not getting closer to her and ending up falling in love even more.

That night Lando can't hold back and ends up kissing the reader and fight with himself to not take things further but it ends up being too late since the reader gets turned on

spooky - l.n

Warnings: Angst, swearing, arguing, smut, 18+

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - spoky

You’d basically begged everyone in your friend group to go to the Halloween party with you, as you were dressed as Harley Quinn, and you needed a Joker. But every single time, you were met with a silly ‘no’. Except finally, you were forced to be with Lando.

And you couldn’t deny he looked downright hot with the white paint smeared on his face, the red paint done messily and his curls squeezed with green dye. Wow, he looked good. And you definitely saw how his gaze lingered on your half-exposed cleavage in the classic shirt.

“Couldn’t think of anything more unique?” he asked as he walked into the house beside you. “You agreed to it, Norris,” you pointed out, rolling your eyes as Lando swallowed down a snarky remark. “At least I’m not flashing everyone my tits,” he muttered under his breath.

“Excuse me?” you gasped, your eyes wide. You weren’t doing anything even remotely close to flashing your tits to anyone as Lando smirked and rolled his eyes. “Just shut up and be a good girl,” he flicked your chest gently, to the classic Harley Quinn line of ‘Daddy’s Lil Monster’.

You pushed down the small moan as you carried on with the party. And you did enjoy yourself, when suddenly, Lando pulled you up the stairs, ignoring the various couples making out on the stairs, as he pushed you into a room and shut the door.

“Can you not grind on every guy you see?” he asked, sensing you were drunk as you rolled your eyes. “I’m not,” you said, “let me hwve my fun,”. Lando was growing frustrated.

“I’m not, not letting you have fun,” Lando growled, “you just don’t need to be doing that with every guy!”. You groaned, pupils dilated as he began his lecture. “I’m not doing it with every guy, I’m sorry you’re such a loser of a guy, that all you do is-,”.

You were cut off promptly by Lando’s lips crashing to yours. “All I do is what, hm?” he asked, eyes narrowed, “I can fuck the shit out of you, is what I can do,” he ran a hand through his now green curls. You didn’t even protest.

“Shit,” you cursed as Lando pressed the throbbing tip of his cock to your covered clit, rubbing slowly, leaking the pre-cum over your outfit. You didn’t care, too focused and desperate for the man on top of you as you whined, clawing to strip your clothes off.

“Someone’s a little needy,” Lando sighed, pulling you under him by your thighs, one hand holding your chest down. “F-Fuck,” you gasped, his hips immediately snapping into yours. A thin layer of sweat lined Lando’s face, the white paint of his face dripping sown but he didn’t care. You were his priority.

He could feel you were close as you clenched round him, your moans loud and unfiltered as he pivoted into you, angling so his cock slammed into your g-spot every time. And just as you were about to cum…he pulled out. “I’m not having some little bitch act like a brat and then get to cum,” he said simply, walking out.

This man was gonna make you fucking beg.

[moonlight-prose]

RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME

➛ 07. BENEATH THE STAINS OF TIME

a/n: wow i stalled on writing this chapter until the last minute. i think i really just didn't want to put them through this, but also i love the angst so it's an internal war i fought with myself. this is the pinnacle of the entire series. the one thing i plotted when i first came up with the story. so grab your tissues, a blanket, and a comfort fic for afterwards. because i am sorry for what's about to happen.

summary: he never liked the variant from your universe; the be all end all hero. but in the depths of anger and pain, logan howlett is forced to make a choice his variant self once made. save your soul and the people you might harm...or save the you he loves.

word count: 9.5k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: DARK THEMES AHEAD BE WARNED, angst, pain, ptsd, talk of drowning, insanity, tw: torture, tw: blood, tw: death, grief, violence, wade wilson breaking the fourth wall, deadpool & wolverine energy, laura kinney has enetered the chat y'all, father daughter bonding, wade wilson's commentary, sacrifice, time.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST

He couldn't breathe.

Logan had been underwater before, felt the press of the ocean against his chest and struggled for oxygen. Battling for breath, no matter how small. He understood what it felt like to drown—sink to the bottom and never get up. His adamantium skeleton had been the cause of him drowning far too many times in his life; until he'd grown accustomed to the sensation of fighting for air.

This felt magnified. As if he'd been at the bottom of the Atlantic—straight down the Mariana Trench—for centuries.

Was this how it felt to be buried alive? To find yourself in a grave six feet deep with no way of clawing to the surface.

He never thought he'd understand the sensation that kept him up at night; the prospect of death was too little a threat for him to actually worry about. Unimportant to a man who had spent two centuries of his life barely finding any meaning to it. After all, what was the fucking point when he wound up right back here. In the shallow end of his grave, waiting to lay down and exhale his final breath.

Time fell back into place the moment you left. Fortuna. Someone he never thought would find him here; now brought him to his knees with one simple act.

There was misery in love. He knew this the moment he fell in his own universe. He understood the cost of what might come from you using your powers without restrictions; what Charles told you. Yet he fell anyway. He allowed his heart to open up and give you leeway into the broken pieces of his mind—a part of himself he chose to ignore.

He should have fucking known better than to repeat history here.

He should have ignored the strings that bound his heart to yours and left you alone.

He should have, he should have, he should have...

But he didn't.

Now he bore the brunt of consequences he knew would one day show up.

Your apartment door slammed open, nearly getting torn off the hinges as a familiar echo of heavy boots thumped across the hardwood floor. He felt his spine tense where he still knelt—hands clutching the pieces of your shattered mug. Fortuna wouldn't be returning. He knew her tricks, knew her endgame, and coming back to the scene of disaster was never her forte.

The scent of vanilla and Ambrose filled his senses, stinging his nose, as a familiar dark browned girl rushed to his aid. A backpack hit the ground, sunglasses discarded on the counter, as his variant's daughter clutched his hands in hers. He couldn't bring himself to look at her. Not when he broke right there in a place that held such happiness.

She seemed to understand. Peeling the porcelain out of his palms and placing it back on the table; finding what other shards she could to put them all together. The silence felt safe. Familiar.

Logan found himself suddenly thankful for the variant that once existed in her world. She could see the cues before they even washed across his face; the bitter grief that her father once went through. He knew from when he met her in the Void, he couldn't be that person for her. But when she looked at him like that—a daughter willing to fight alongside her father—he hoped that maybe...he could.

"Althea called me," she said softly, hands wrapped around his wrists. "Whoever she is attacked Wade's place first."

His head rose, anger trickling in his chest as Laura's brown eyes mirrored his own. "She's..."

"I know," she muttered, pulling him to his feet. "Wade filled me in."

"Is he-"

"Takes a lot more than that to kill a Deadpool." She grimly kicked shattered glass to the side, shoving it to a corner as he staggered to his full height. He wore a neutral expression—somber even. But Laura could see the pain in his eyes; an exact replica of the older man she once clung to as a child—begging him to live for her sake. "He sounded pissed. Althea hung up before he could fill me in on the gory details."

"Fortuna," he sighed, eyes fixed on the demolished window. He'd have to help you fix it after all was said and done—after he apologized for dragging you into a mess that was never meant to touch you. "She found me."

Laura's nose scrunched, brows furrowed. "You're ex? I thought she could control time, not...multiverses."

"Charles's theory was that she wasn't exactly controlling time. More like what made up the universe as a whole."

She nodded. "Time included."

"Time included," he repeated. "I didn't think she'd...get this bad."

"You left her behind," she stated, rummaging in your fridge for something to drink. "I guess a part of me can understand her anger."

He knew she wasn't talking about him, but rather the man she once looked up to. Nonetheless the words still stung the same.

In a different world Logan could picture her here on nights not spent at the mansion studying and training. He could see you bonding with Laura—teaching her the history of the X-Men. Showing her the love of a mother she never had.

The image punched him in the chest until his breath became nonexistent and suddenly...he was drowning again. A choked noise echoed in the back of his throat. Laura's head snapped in his direction with concern etched across her face. Any other day he'd loathe that look, but tonight he couldn't dig his way out fast enough to care.

The soda can she tossed his way nearly smacked him in the head; effectively snapping him out of whatever fucking stupor his own mind was intent on trapping him in. He caught it, breath rushing back to his lungs, and gulped down the shitty sugary crap his own kid loved.

"That's fuckin' disgusting," he bit out, watching her smile into her own can.

"I like it."

He winced as the taste hit the back of his throat. "You're a kid. You'll grow out of it."

"You've said that before Dad. And I'm not a kid-" She tensed as the word left her mouth. The title that was never meant to fall upon his shoulders; never supposed to tie him to another person.

Something hesitant flashed in her eyes, mouth now a thin line as she waited for his inevitable reaction to her slip up. The words he uttered beside the fire no doubt on the tip of his tongue: Whoever you think I am...you got the wrong guy. But standing there, watching his kid hold hope in her eyes that he might say something different this time, made him finally understand what the fucking point was.

He didn't want to be the wrong guy.

He just wanted to be what she needed. What you needed.

"No," he sighed, lips curling into a smile that said enough. You can call me Dad. You can give me that responsibility and know I'll fight like hell to make sure I live up to his legacy. "I guess you're not."

They allowed the silence to sit in their chest for a brief moment. A moment of understanding passed in their grim smiles that held so much more. He'd tell it all to her one day. How he once longed for a life exactly like this, for a kid of his own. How he never believed himself worthy of the title Dad. How he'd lay down his entire being if she asked it of him.

Today though, they shed the titles of father and daughter and donned one they knew all too well. Wolverine. Ironic that the one thing he loathed would one day be given to a girl who wielded it with pride.

"What are you gonna do?" she asked, pushing off the counter and reaching for her bag.

"Find her."

"And when you do?"

His heart paused as the realization of what was to come began to reenter his mind. Fortuna had you captive, dangling you on a string in the hopes he would latch on to rescue the person who held his heart. Logan felt the urge to leap. Save you from the clutches of someone willing to kill you just to bring him unimaginable pain.

To get even for what he couldn't do that night.

But he also knew...Fortuna didn't deserve what happened. The humans destroyed what the X-Men built. They were the cause of everything that occurred since he left. He couldn't let their trauma bring down the woman he once loved. Even if she was so adamant on watching him give over his life for a version of her not yet broken by unimaginable pain.

"I don't fuckin' know," he admitted.

She took another sip, crushed the can in her palm and tossed it to the bin in the corner of your kitchen. "Wade's gonna want to speak to you. Find out what happened here."

He nodded. "You got everythin'?"

"I'm set."

"You know you don't have to do this kid. It's not your fight."

Her eyes narrowed, the firm set of her mouth so much like his own. She was a fucking mirror he never thought he'd have; showing him pieces of himself he once thought too ugly to be seen. Yet they were the reason she shined so bright. He could see the stubbornness ingrained into her very own DNA. A testament to his own unwillingness to let things go; to take on the battle for someone else as long as they didn't get hurt.

So much like him. So identical.

He felt a streak of fear run down his spine at that thought alone. She'd have to suffer for it. Just as he did. But goddammit if he wasn't going to do everything in his power to save her from the pain of bearing the title Wolverine.

"You love her," she stated plainly, as if nothing else mattered in this world but those three words. "Which means she's my family. We protect our own."

She didn't give him a chance to respond, scooping up her sunglasses and propping them on her nose with a huff. Maybe she didn't notice how he stood there, eyes wide as something pricked his heart. Maybe she ignored it for his sake—so uncomfortable with being vulnerable like him. But either way he couldn't deny the fact that stared right at him in big shiny letters.

She was his daughter. Through and through.

"She took my arms!" Wade's voice echoed down the hallway, giving Logan pause as Laura took the lead. "Do you know how petty that is? When I find that Scarlet Witch carbon copy I'm gonna shove my katana down her throat as I dance to dub-step-"

"Hi Wade," Laura said, cutting him off from what was about to be an impressive rant.

He spun, baby arms swinging limply at his side. "Oh good. The clone of the man I actually need. Tell me, did you find your father cause mommy has to speak to him."

Logan took that chance to follow her through the open door. His eyes took in the destruction of a once nice living room. Burn marks stretched from floor to ceiling in multiple places where Fortuna's whip had made contact. He spotted two limbs in a pile by the couch, blood pooling on the carpet as Wade steamed with enough fury to sharpen his senses.

She’d come here first looking for him. Which means she somehow knew exactly where to find him.

"Peanut!" he shouted, eyes narrowed and baby fists clenched. "Did you have a nice morning? Get some good head? Because I was attacked by the long lost daughter of Princess Diana."

Laura's head cocked to the side, brows furrowed. "Diana Prince."

"Whatever!"

"Wade." His greeting could have been better. Though he was never one for handing out sympathy to the nearest victim.

Wade ceremoniously collapsed to the floor on his back, thumping his head against the carpet as Logan stepped further into the room. The window was ripped clean out of the wall, glass scattered everywhere which showed how Fortuna found out about her variant self. Logan could practically see the fight happen in the present time.

It made his stomach sour—his heart a rapid beat against his chest.

"How long will it take for those to finish?" He gestured to the arms that currently pointed two middle fingers in his direction.

"Couple hours. Why do you ask? Want a handy?"

"Ew," Laura sighed. "I'm gonna find some food. Want anything?" When Logan shook his head, she quickly dipped back out into the hallway, leaving him to deal with the wallowing lump on the floor.

He sighed, stepped over Wade and grabbed him. "Alright c'mon."

"I'm half the man I used to be. Literally. She took the only good thing I had until Ness got back." The limp wave of small hands in his face had Logan cringing back.

"So she came here first then."

Wade barked out a laugh. "Oh you mean your ex? Sabrina the teenage BITCH!"

Logan huffed, dragged him to the couch that had long chunks ripped out of the fabric. "She's a lot older than you think mouth."

"Sorry my bad. We didn't exchange your preferred blowjob tips and trade secrets about you when she was cutting off my arms!" The roll of his eyes was involuntary, barely there, but Wade latched onto it like a dog with a bone. "Did you just-"

He turned his head, exasperation bleeding into the air. "Did he just roll his eyes at me?"

The room went still as the gears in Logan's head began to turn. The fear was now palpable enough for Wade to figure out exactly what was happening. He sat up straight, gaze latched onto the apartment across the street. The wall gaped like a wound, leaving a trail of ghastliness in its wake. Wade was surprised to see minimal bloodshed, merely the path of destruction left by a being with too much power, but the inkling of you in pain made his stomach churn.

The amount of information he extracted out of Fortuna was slim to none, but it didn't take a genius to figure out what she went after once she was done wreaking havoc in his home.

"Logan," he started, anger trickling into his heart. "Where is sweet angel?"

He sagged into the couch—grief cutting into his chest as images of your smiling face plagued his mind. No answer would have been good enough to explain what happened. His face stricken with despair—the way he clutched his hands into fists on his knees—told Wade everything he needed to know.

Fortuna wasn't here to only kill Logan. Why dismantle one life when she could bring an end to the memory of Logan Howlett in this universe too? She'd take all of them down with her if it meant enacting her revenge.

Starting with you.

"No," he breathed.

"I don't know where they would have-" He bit down on the inside of his cheek until copper burst on his tongue. "Where they'd be."

The longer he sat there, the more he felt himself sink into the despondent pit in his mind. Yet no matter how he struggled to claw at the ground, it continued to drag him in earnest. The sharp peal of laughter—of taunting words that set his teeth on edge—mimicked the sound of Fortuna.

He wanted to scream, but who would be there to listen? Who would be there to drag him from the darkness now that you were gone?

A bag was tossed to the couch, barely breaking through the murkiness in his own mind. Laura dragged the only working chair in the kitchen closer to the couch. The snap and hiss of a Coke being opened filled the dire silence. Giving Logan something to latch onto. He might tell her one day how being near her settled the raging storm in his head; the calm he could never quite acquire somehow flowing through her with ease.

He had people to help him find you; people who cared for your well being.

People who would die to bring you home.

There would be no end for them where you weren't safe. Where they didn't offer themselves up on your behalf. You were the best of them. It certainly wasn’t your fault you fell in love with a man too twisted and mangled by pain to offer you even the illusion of peace.

"I know someone who might be able to help," she said, chewing thoughtfully on a granola bar. "You may not like it."

Wade's sigh was deafening, his body flopping back onto the couch with a groan. "We are not dragging McAvoy into this. Not when Stewart is better drama wise."

She took another bite, distant gaze stuck to a busted picture frame of Wade and Vanessa on an anniversary of some sorts. Wade wore red, Vanessa wore black. They resembled a couple others might look up to. Logan used to stare at it often in his fitful nights of sleep. More so when you wandered into his life; thoughts of a future tantalizingly close to the tips of his fingers.

He wanted that with you. A life worth more than every battle he fought, every scar that didn't stick. All the fucked up things he did evaporated like steam floating off water the second he met your eyes.

You and your honey-like smile; your hand a soft yet sturdy grip in his.

"Is your universe similar to this one?" Laura inquired, back in the moment as her mind reeled with possibilities.

"Somewhat."

"In what way?"

"Places and people still exist. It's pieces of time that are different. History isn't the same here." He could recall you begging him to explain his past. What wars he fought in, what happened for him to get to this point. Yet whatever you recorded wouldn't match the history books housed in your library.

Laura nodded, downing the last of her soda. "So places. Anywhere special she might have gone that might mean something to you?"

His mind fell to the one place even he couldn’t approach. The space that housed so many memories—so much agony. But going back there would mean facing the other X-Men and Fortuna wasn't stupid enough to risk falling into that trap.

"The mansion is too risky."

He thought back to your shared room. The walls that once flickered blue with Fortuna's power as he held her through the nightmares. He thought of a small two story farmhouse that sat on the outskirts of the property line. A home Charles offered. One he intended to rebuild with the promise of holding onto a love so permanent.

His heart dropped, laying in the base of his stomach like a stone he never intended to swallow. "I know where they are."

Wade perked up, arms an inch longer than before. "Mind sharing with the class peanut?"

Logan couldn't hear him over the noise in his head; the knowledge that Fortuna would pull such a heinous act of revenge. Taking you to the place he promised her. It made for the perfect ending to her already tragic story. Logan wasn't sure if he wanted to rip his claws into the couch below, or charge out the door with no plan.

He settled for heading to the hall closet, yanking the door open with more force than intended. It slammed against the wall as he tugged free a black unlabeled duffle bag from the top shelf. After the battle to save Wade's universe, he didn't think he would need this old yellow suit anymore. At the time he was tempted to throw it out and forget it existed.

He eventually came to his senses.

Salvaging what he could and rebuilding small pieces in case the time came formed an amalgamation of what once resembled an X-Men suit. His fingers traced the silver X attached to the belt. The symbol that once held so much hope. Fortuna wore the same. A tie that kept them forever bound; forever each other's equal even in a different universe.

"You're going after her," Laura said.

"Of course he is." Wade stumbled to his feet. "We're finally getting that family road trip."

"Would now be the wrong time to say Avenger's Assemble? Or should we wait for the third act battle sequence?"

Logan felt the gaping maw of his heart grow the longer you were apart from him. An itch formed beneath his skin. The source was indeterminable but he knew what caused it to start. His entire being called out to you, begged you to survive until he managed to carry you to safety. Yet the biting horror of reality began to settle like a frozen chill in his veins.

What if he finally destroyed the only good thing about his life?

What if he was too late?

What if...you didn't survive?

You couldn't differentiate night from day anymore. After the first two hours, you were left with a stabbing pain in the side of your head—turning your vision blurry. After what felt like five or six (or perhaps eight) you gave up on trying to keep count. The veins were prominent against your hands as blood steadily dripped to the floor.

A pool of crimson agony that you could practically see yourself in.

If you opened your eyes, would you see the broken parts of a soul she seemed intent on dragging out? Would they match hers? The sound of her gravel lilted voice murmured in the corner of the room where she waited. A stoic figure of patience. Seeking penance for the harm caused to someone so innocent.

You both knew this was a fight meant for Logan. You knew only one of them walked away from whatever age old hatred still burned bright enough to burn the skin off your body.

That didn't stop you from wishing you could shoulder the burden for him. The words collateral damage didn't mean anything to you before. Merely things spouted to harm your already vulnerable and emotional state. But the longer you gave them time to sink in, the more you accepted her veracity. You would cease to exist one way or another come tomorrow morning.

This was the ugly undeniable truth.

The one thing Logan could not save you from.

"I know you're awake."

Fear curled around your heart like a fist as your eyes cracked open sluggishly—triggering a dull pain in your skull. The ability to speak was stripped from you after an hour of screaming. The hoarse echo of your voice sent a throbbing knife down your throat you chose to ignore.

So you stared at her; watched while she paced the floor in front of you—blue rolling off of her like waves from the ocean.

"He's gonna come for you," she muttered more to herself. "He'll show up."

You groaned and watched her stiffen—milky eyes flashing cerulean. The burn of the rope on your skin counteracted the searing ache in your torso. Her whip hung around her waist—coated in a dried layer of your blood. The sight sent bile up your throat even though your stomach remained empty. She stared at you as if you were someone else entirely; someone from a past life you'd never know about.

The need to inquire—to know more—began to build under your skin. But your body would no longer respond to what you wanted. The depletion of your energy affected more than your ability to speak; it tore at what little movement you had, ripping everything to shreds on the inside. You knew you looked half dead—felt like it too—but she could see the slight twitch of your mouth almost ready to open.

"Charles would have liked you," she revealed as if it were a small secret meant to be kept between the two of you. "He always had an affinity for those interested in mutant powers."

Sucking in a breath, you managed to force your voice to work. "I-I know the history."

"I bet you would." She glanced at the window where dusk crept into the late afternoon sky; brilliant hues of orange and red mimicking the pain in your body. "I didn't think I'd exist in this universe."

"You don't," you croaked. "I'm not a mutant."

Her lips curled, a small laugh exhaling from her mouth. "Yeah. I guess you're not. Maybe that's what he likes about you."

Logan's face seeped into the back of your mind; the tender smile he wore when you woke up together. The hope in his eyes that this might remain a consistent part of his life. That he may have lucked out on the prospect of getting to have you for as long as you chose to keep him.

Suddenly that part of your life felt a million miles away. Just barely out of reach, growing further in distance the harder you tried to capture it.

"I-I'm you," you mumbled, head tipping to the side. "That's why."

"No. You're not me." She regarded you with a look of pity, lips down turned in a mock pout. Ire burned in your chest with the embers of a flame lit by Logan. "You're weak."

You huffed, digging your nails into your palms to divert your attention from the pain. "I survived you."

The slap that whipped across your face was unexpected. You cried out—head falling back against the chair—as she stood over you. Power emanating from her stance. This wasn't someone to toy with. You could see how she craved to rip your tongue from your mouth; the need to silence her variant crawling beneath her skin.

But something held her back from approaching that final line.

Something scared her.

"You won't die if you do it," you wheezed, struggling to breath through a nose so clotted with dried blood. "That's not how this works."

She sneered. "And you're smart enough to know how all of this works."

"So it seems."

Her fingers gripped your wrist, nails boring into your already sliced open skin, as she leaned over you. "The Logan in this universe is dead." You stuttered out a halfhearted breath; body ringing with a plea to stop. To put an end to this fucking torture. "How did he die?"

You winced, leveling her glare with one of your own. "He sacrificed himself."

"You're fucking with me," she laughed, the sound shrill and hoarse.

Neither of you heard the creak behind her. You could barely register anything other than the rush of blood that pounded against your eardrums. She seemed to be enjoying how your body slowly deteriorated beneath the strain of the pain. Far too distracted to notice the person creeping into the house—sunglasses on her face—claws extended in a stance of defense.

"Who garnered enough fucking attention from Logan Howlett for him to sacrifice himself?" she jeered.

"His daughter."

Fortuna spun whip in hand, as a young woman stood mere feet away. Her head was cocked in interest as if she'd never quite seen two identical people in the same room. You knew her name the second your eyes locked on her form. The same dark hair, same grim tight lipped frown. The same silver claws and stubborn streak.

The sight of Laura Kinney took your breath away.

She stood before you every bit the girl that Logan made her out to be as he spoke about her in shared conversations at your kitchen table. You could see the mirror image of her father in each expression, each small twitch of her body that prepared to fight. And something flared to life in your chest.

You were angry that Fortuna was about to hurt her. Logan's daughter was ready to put her life on the line to rescue someone she'd never met before.

A missing detail which didn't appear to matter to her. Logan loved you. That was certainly enough for her.

Fortuna gaped at her—astounded by the familiar details and hints that Laura was indeed telling the truth. Not only had Logan Howlett died in this world, but he left behind a legacy that would live on for him. He saved the only important thing in his life so she could one day do the same for the version of her father who would stay.

"He's here isn't he?" she asked calmer than you expected. The whip snapped to the ground. You flinched at the sound. A fact that Laura clocked within seconds—her head tilted in your direction.

Though you couldn't see her eyes behind the pink sunglasses, you knew that fury burned in them as they would her father's.

"He sends his regards." Laura's fingers curled into fists.

"A child," she spit. "He sent a child to do his bidding?"

She shrugged, lips curling into a false grin. "Don't worry. I'm more than capable of killing you."

You felt pride flicker in your heart as Logan's cocksureness bled through her words. Where Laura went, Logan wasn't too far behind. You pulled at the restraints, the burn of ropes dragging along open wounds, but you refused to let Laura do this on her own. It seemed that the both of you had turned to the same page—her head nodding in your direction subtly.

"Well." Fortuna stepped forward, sapphire pouring off her body. "I suppose Logan's legacy won't last long in this universe."

Laura charged forward with a scream, claws slicing at Fortuna's middle only for the whip to wrap itself around her arm. With a shout, Fortuna flung her to the side—watching with an unhinged smile as Laura hit the wall hard enough to make you wince. You tugged at the rope—a hoarse cry ripping from your throat when a boot slammed into the legs of the chair.

"Don't tell me you're ready to leave," she shouted. "We were bonding."

"Fuck you," you snapped.

"Ouch." Her hand gripped your chin, lifting you to meet her expressionless eyes. "Is that the best you can do, human?"

"No," you gasped, hand scrambling for the knife at her thigh. "This is."

It embedded in her arm, slicing open skin as she shouted in rage, stumbling back into Laura's vicinity. Claws ripped through the back of her leg, cutting open her calf, as a familiar dark head of hair slid past her, crouching in front of your chair with a roar.

"You bitch!" Fortuna tossed the blade to the side, her hand forming around the open wound.

It clattered against the floor seconds before the door burst open—a man in red bursting through and flinging yet another baby knife towards Fortuna's healing body. She ducked, whip coiling like a snake in the air, slamming down with a crack. Wade shrieked, flipping to the side and ducking behind the broken couch as the familiar click of a bullet falling into the chamber resonated in the air.

"I'd say I'll put my hands up but you'd probably tie them together huh. You kinky minx!"

You winced through the grin, Laura's eyes tracked Fortuna's movements like a predator waiting when to strike. Whatever the plan was, Logan was sure to make sure someone was on you at all times. If only to get you out of the house and into the forest safely. From there it was quick to disappear.

Wade seemed to be the distraction in this case. Fitting.

His head peeked over the couch—the whip slicing over him with a sound that pierced through you. "You die tonight Deadpool."

"You don't want me. You want my buddy right outside this house." He stood, finger pulling the trigger quicker than you expected. Only for a silver and blue whip to slice through it—the fragmented pieces of a smoking bullet hitting the floor and rolling away.

"Surrender you walking condom."

"Pump the hate brakes Wanda Maximoff." Another bullet slid into place. "Peanut junior? Would you like to take it away?"

Launching herself into the air, Laura toppled Fortuna to the side with a scream, her claws slashing to get her pound of flesh. Wade laughed, striding towards you—boot effortlessly kicking his knife up and into his hand. You’d never wanted to hug the man more.

He winced at the sight of your puffy face; your right eye was nearly swollen shut from where Fortuna decided to land her hits. A pastime she seemed to enjoy, simply to hear you scream.

You wondered if you took off the mask, would you see Wade's face bleeding with rage. Or did he too wear an expression of pity.

"Logan's gonna kill her," he muttered, crouching in front of you and sliding the knife through the ropes with ease. "I've got ya sweet angel."

"W-Where is he?" You staggered to your feet, Wade's arm wrapped tightly around your waist to keep you upright. "He can't be here. She'll kill him Wade."

He clicked his tongue, leading you to the front steps, past where Laura was busy twisting Fortuna's whip around her own neck. "He knows what's at risk, angel. Believe me. I offered to be the noble sacrifice but I played that card when it came to saving this universe and there's no take backs."

"He's gonna die," you rasped, your knees buckling as he got you over the last step. "H-He can't die."

Wade gripped your arms, settling you to the ground with a grunt. "You forget who you're fucking sweet angel. He's the Wolverine."

"But she's-"

"A toxic ex who can't seem to take no for an answer. We've all got one of those."

You huffed. "She's more than an ex."

"I know." Pulling the gun free from his thigh, he made sure you were safe before stepping back to the front stoop. "But that doesn't mean this isn't a daytime soap opera." He turned to the treeline with a sigh. "You coming, your majesty or should I roll out the red carpet?"

A glimpse of the man in question stopped your heart, the breath catching in your throat, as Logan finally stepped forth. His suit was sewn with pieces of black leather (no doubt from Wade's leftover stash), a yellow X stretched across his chest now became the sole focus. Yet that isn’t what filled your body with warmth.

This time he wore the suit with pride. A glint of determination was in his eyes that once never used to exist. He stepped forward the X-Man this world needed; ready and willing to take on the legacy of a man he once loathed. You felt your heart twist violently at the sight—love pouring into your chest faster than you could stop it.

"Honey," he breathed, rushing over—hesitation and a storm of outrage clashing together in his hazel eyes.

"I'm okay."

He huffed through his nose, hands gathering you gently in his arms. "Don't bullshit me honey."

Wade's cough was exaggerated, his hands gesturing to the doorway. Laura's shouts and the crashing of furniture being demolished spilled through the broken windows—her rage matching her father's right down to the familiar lilt of her roar. She was a fighter. Just like the man who held you as if you were glass. Your pain, now a reflection in his eyes as he took in what Fortuna did to you.

"You can't kill her. She’s too powerful," you stated.

“You’re safe.” He didn’t seem to comprehend your words. Opting to press you close enough to feel his body heat sink into your frigid form. “That’s all that matters.”

Wade ducked down, pressing his face close to Logan's. "Yeah. I don't mean to interrupt your romantic hero kiss the girl moment. But what the fuck are we gonna do?"

"She can't keep going like this," Logan replied. "Eventually she's gonna have to tap out."

"Of course! Makes perfect sense. Mind elaborating for the audience honey badger?"

Logan sighed, his hand cupping your face with a pained noise in the back of his throat. "Her energy will run out. Same as Charles and...Jean. They couldn't keep up the fight forever."

"Okay but the whole freezing time business." He glanced to the side, shoulders lifting in a perfunctory shrug. "I know right, we really could have explained this earlier."

"Mutants are aware." Logan rose to his feet, leaving you to sit on the ground, your hand outstretched to keep him here. "We have to struggle but we can break free if she's weak enough."

"Wow." Wade sagged, a muffled groan coming through the mask. "That's just lazy writing."

You gripped Logan's hand, forcing him to step closer. "You're not going in there."

"Honey-"

"No." Gripping the stair railing, you struggled to your feet—eyes blazing with a headstrong fighting spirit Logan loved you for. "She'll kill you Logan. I can't lose you. I-I won’t."

His breath was heavy, hand curling around the back of your neck to press his forehead to yours. "You're not gonna lose me alright? Not today."

"Logan-"

Wade gripped your arm, drawing your gaze to him. "Don't worry sweet angel. He's got a bodyguard." You leveled him with a glare that would have sent him six feet under if his mutant power wasn't regeneration. "Have I ever mentioned that your eyes are the perfect shade of rage and violence. It's like a beautiful fucked lava lamp from the eighties."

You weren't sure if he was paying you a compliment or trying to lighten the mood. Logan sighed against your cheek, disappointment practically bleeding through his words.

"Seventies Wade."

"He would know. He's from 753 B.D." He turned. "Before Deadpool."

"A.D.," you spit, fighting the hint of a grin that threatened to bloom across your face.

"Not in this universe."

A shout tore through the small sliver of peace as Laura was thrown from the house, landing in a bloodied heap on the grass. Mere seconds passed before she was flipping to her feet again, claws extended and glasses forgotten about in the dirt. You wondered if the surge of warmth in your chest was pride or something else entirely.

Perhaps one day you'd get the chance to figure it out.

"Time to go do what heroes do," Wade said, nudging Logan as Fortuna floated through the open doorway, landing mere feet away from where you stood.

"Wolverine," she crooned, her boots a steady thump against the wooden porch. "Come to rescue the human I see."

Logan gripped your waist, moving you away from the house with quick steps. You clawed at his back to get him to stop. To keep him from leaving you behind. But Laura's hands on your shoulders forced you to remain calm—to remain on the edge of the property and watch as the man your heart screamed for walked away.

"Logan!" you shouted, fighting against the girl's hold, but the wasted energy was all for naught. There was no breaking away from a determined Wolverine.

He rejoined Wade with a darkened grimace. His claws ripping through the flesh of his knuckles as Wade pulled free the katanas strapped to his back. Your voice shouting his name set his entire body on edge; the urge to go to you, comfort the panic that filled your veins, nearly breaking his spirit.

But this was not your war and Logan would go down fighting before he let another person he loved fall into the hands of death.

"Alright," Wade grunted, cracking his neck. "Maximum effort."

Fortuna's whip snapped in the air, slicing a gaping hole in time as Logan and Wade charged. She leapt forward, boot pushing off the railing and toppling into them with a shout—a stolen knife carving into Logan's shoulder. He shoved her off, claws swiping for her neck, teeth bared in a snarl.

She ducked, foot slamming into Wade's stomach, rupturing the surrounding area with a blast that sent Logan sliding back into the dirt. He grunted, claws burying into the soil as Wade reached for his guns. A single katana forgotten on the ground.

"Pathetic," she sneered.

"Look who's talking McFly." Wade fired off three rounds, watching her roll to avoid the bullets, her hands crushing the dead grass beneath her.

She pointed to Wade. "You're first."

He laughed. "Bring it on you witch bitch."

Fortuna scoffed, glancing at Logan. "Does he ever shut the fuck up."

"Ha! Good luck with that. I can go on forever."

The whip unraveled from her wrist, rapidly slicing towards Wade—wrapping around his arm in a dramatic rendition of what already happened. This time he was prepared. Sprinting towards Logan, he rolled to the side as claws dragged down your arm. Opening a wound in her arm; blood pouring down her skin, dripping onto the grass.

“Fuck!” she snapped, knife lodging into Wade’s back as she leapt towards Logan.

His knee met her stomach, slamming her a few feet back until she landed on the ground. A groan reverberating in her chest.

Time flickered, punching them in the chest as they fought to move. Air rushed to his lungs as she stumbled to her feet—time falling back into place. Wade grabbed the second gun strapped to his thigh with a huff. The shot went off, the bullet finding its mark in Fortuna's wounded arm.

She screamed, falling to one knee—waves of blue pouring into the ground, forming a bubble of safety. She plucked at the fabrics of the universe, pulling them towards her as Wade pulled the trigger until the mag was empty. A pile of bullets by her body now trapped in light.

"Fuck!" Wade tossed his gun to the side.

Logan turned to see Laura holding you back, your face stricken in fear as you watched them battle it out. It was a struggle to have you here. To keep himself sane. He longed for you to be you close. What he wouldn’t give to take you away from all of this carnage. But you weren't safe as long as Fortuna was around.

She would always be a step behind, ready to chase him to the ends of this universe simply to watch him burn. He knew what he had to do. But the cost of making that choice weighed heavy on his chest—choking the very breath from his lungs. Wade could see it clear as day even as Fortuna began to build enough strength to keep herself going—to pull one final move.

With a shout, she swung her arms out, forcing enough energy their way to fling them into the air. Logan watched as spots began to form on his skin—time ripping away the very makeup of his DNA as she swung her whip in the air. It latched to his waist, dragging him forward until he was on his knees—body struggling to heal from something so unknown.

"Is she worth it?" she sneered, fingers curling into his hair to maneuver his head to keep his eyes on you. The struggle you put up to free yourself from Laura's grasp. "I'm going to kill her next Logan."

"No." He pushed against the vice of your whip, eyes latching onto the white streak hidden in your hair. A sign of what Fortuna had already started.

"I'll age her day by day, year by year, until she's dust."

"NO!"

She laughed, her lips brushing his cheek. "And you? You will have to live without her."

Tears stung his eyes when you finally managed to slip through Laura's hold, legs trembling as you forced your body to sprint his way. The sight of Logan's hair graying, wrinkles carving across his skin, brought you to the edge of your sanity. It ripped at your chest until blood poured from your heart. Staining the ground beneath you.

You couldn't lose him; you didn't know how to breathe without him. And you refused to watch him die from the sins of his past; actions he did not commit.

"Wait!" Laura shouted, running after you as Wade staggered to his feet.

"Angel!"

There was no thought process to your actions, no sense why you did what you did. All you could think about—all that filled your heart with dread—was the knowledge that Logan wouldn't survive this. He wouldn't be there to love you, give you the future you desperately ached for. He would never know you loved him.

That alone drove you forward with a pained cry.

Flinging yourself onto Fortuna, you sent the both of you flying a few feet away as Wade and Laura ran to rip her off you. But time stopped. Every sound stilled, and they were forced to stand and watch as Fortuna straddled your waist—her hands reaching for your throat.

"What do you have huh?" she snarled. "What the fuck do you have that I don't?"

"Please!" You punched her wherever you could reach, desperate to get her off of you. "He-"

"He what?"

"He wouldn't want you to do this Fortuna."

She laughed, manic enough to chill your heart with fear. "Who Logan? You think I fucking care? I would kill him in a-"

"CHARLES!" She froze, eyes flashing sapphire as her grip loosened. Giving you a chance to suck in air. "H-He loved you. Logan told me."

"Charles," she mumbled—a glimpse of your shared original color of her eyes coming through the expanse of white. "He's..."

"Dead." You gasped, turning to see three people you'd die for struggling against time—their bodies battling the power of someone far too corrupt. Someone who forgot where they came from; who their home was. "Your family...my family...they wouldn't want you to become this. P-Please. Charles, Jean, Storm. They didn’t want this for you."

She turned, gaze softening. "You would die for them."

Hot tears burned your frigid skin—falling down your temples and into your hair. "I would."

Stuttering out a breath, she fixed you with a gaze of someone you might have recognized in the mirror. A woman so broken by what time did to her. What the humans caused all because of her DNA. You wanted to promise that life might have turned out different if Logan stayed; that she would be safe. But even you knew it would be a lie.

There would be no saving her from the one thing that created her.

Time.

Leaning down, she pressed her forehead to yours—defeat curving around her shoulders, weighing heavy against her heart.

"Tell him I'm sorry," she murmured.

Pain detonated under your skin before you could open your mouth to respond, forcing your body to convulse in her tight grip. Scarred hands pressed tightly to your face, pinning you to the ground as her whip latched around your chest. Logan's roar became a distant buzzing sound that surrounded you as blue washed over your twisted bodies.

Her brows furrowed, eyes bleeding white as her iris began to form once more—the long lost color that matched your own gaze.

A mirror you wanted to shatter. Damn the bad luck that might befall you; this remained too agonizing to endure.

Her lips pressed to your ear, the pain ebbing from your veins with each pulsing wave. You clawed at her wrists, nails slicing through calloused skin as a scream erupted from the depths of your chest. Piercing the air and slamming directly into three chests.

People who were ripping at the ground to get to you—pulling their bodies across dirt as the curse of time began to lift from the air.

"Do better than me," she whispered, the hot drip of her tears mixing with your own.

Someone yanked her off of you, hurling her to the side with a familiar rumbled growl. You gasped for air, dragging your half limp body away from where Logan stood over her—claws a silver shine emanating with a promise.

"No!" Laura and Wade's hands clamped on your shoulders—keeping you at a safe enough distance. This time refusing to give you any leniency in your movements.

Logan lowered himself to one knee, chest heaving with stunted breaths as Fortuna lay before him—eyes wide with fear. He knew you were behind him. He could feel the burn of your gaze. But all the pain Fortuna caused began to splinter at what little mercy he might have held onto. Yet still the familiar fist of grief wrapped around his heart, reminding him of who Fortuna was.

The woman he once loved.

The woman he couldn't save.

"P-Please," she sighed, hand gripping onto his wrist, tugging his claws against her chest. "Before I hurt you Logan. Before I hurt her."

"I-" He squeezed his eyes shut to the sight of a you so broken—so defeated. "I'm sorry."

She grinned, eyes clear for the first time—weightless after such suffering. "It’s okay. I-I’ll get to see them again. Charles. Jean. Storm."

A sob wracked his body as he dragged her into his lap, hand cupping her face with the tenderness she deserved. "Tell them I'm sorry. Tell them..."

"I will," she murmured, allowing him the freedom to break the final vow of their love. "Till death huh baby?"

Your shouts of his name echoed in the background—Wade's voice mixing with Laura's—and suddenly Logan understood why he found himself here. Why he would stay.

They weren't just his family. They were pieces of his heart sliced open and bared to the ravages of the world. And he would be their protector. The one to meet what danger threatened them head on; willing to fight till his last breath.

He'd be the person he could never be for her.

"Of course," he sighed, tears streaking down his cheeks. "Till death."

"Love her," she breathed, cupping his cheek and forcing his claws to pierce her chest. He sliced through her with a choked shout, the warmth of her blood spilling over his hands. Tainting him further; breaking his already tormented heart. "Love her how you couldn't love me Logan."

"I will honey." Her eyes dragged to how you lay on the ground, Wade's body practically covering yours to keep you from getting any closer. "I promise."

Light flickered in her vision—white and blue and perfect—as Logan clutched her close. Sobbing over a woman he would forever hold the memory of. The last of his family that he couldn't save. Her lips curled into a smile—serenity glistening in her eyes—as a familiar voice echoed in her mind. Tugging her close into welcoming arms.

"Hello Fortuna."

She stuttered out what little breath remained in her chest, a tear slipping down her cheek. "Charles."

"I like it," a voice mumbled, breaking through the darkness that shrouded your body. "And not just cause Ness has one."

A girl hummed. "It's cool."

"Very superhero."

You groaned, body battling any slight movement as your eyes fluttered open with a wince. Light streamed through a grand window, the bed too soft to be yours, yet you knew who sat beside you. Even through the blurred haze of vision, Wade's face was unmistakable. Shifting, you felt everything in you lock up—a hoarse cry falling past your lips.

Hands pushed you back down, steadying you gently as you were finally able to see the other person sitting on a table, munching on some fries. She had a shake beside her—feet propped up on the back of Wade's chair. The sunglasses she lost in the dirt were back atop her head, keeping her hair back.

"Whoa there angel face." He fluffed the pillow violently, jolting you slightly. "You've got two broken ribs and a wound across your torso that would give me being ripped in half by Juggernaut a run for my money."

"W-Where's-"

"Shhh." He raised a crystal glass of water to your lips. "Nurse Wade is here to take care of you. Sorry I don't have the outfit. I couldn't get to a Spirit Halloween in time."

Laura snorted into her food. "It's July."

"That doesn't matter. Those stores are like herpes. You can't ever get rid of that fucker."

"Where's Logan," you said through a broken whisper.

The silence isn't what scared you. No, you'd been through too much to be scared by the threat of nothing but melancholy looks in favor of telling you the truth. You could handle the quiet. What sent terror into your heart was the fact that you knew before you even opened your eyes where he was. His warmth was nowhere to be found in this bedroom; it barely lingered on your own body.

The man who held your heart, who promised to always protect you, was gone.

"No," you breathed, tears welling up and once again blurring your vision.

"He didn't want to go," Laura interjected.

You blinked furiously to keep them at bay. "What do you mean?"

"Fortuna." She pointed to the window that overlooked an expanse of green.

With a pained gasp, you turned to see what she was directing you towards—eyes fixing on a clearly buried grave covered in fresh dirt. A shovel stood straight, plunged a foot into the ground—the handle covered in a stain of deep brown.

Laura exhaled heavily. "She's dead. Logan buried her after he...killed her."

The breath rushed from your lungs, anguish slicing through your heart. "He..."

Wade nodded, somber and horrifyingly quiet. "He wanted to stay sweet angel. We forced him to go."

"Why?" you exclaimed, your body trembling under the stress of waking up too soon. "If he wanted to stay-"

"He was broken. I thought when I found him it was bad. This was worse angel face." Wade gathered your hands in his, drawing you close with a sigh. "He needs to grieve her."

"But I love him," you whimpered, unashamed by how fast the tears were falling. Laura watched you with the eyes of her father—striking your heart in a way that split you in two. "I-I didn't get to tell him."

"He knew," she murmured softly. "Trust me."

Wade pressed a swift kiss to your hands. "He'll come home. I made him fucking promise to return to you. But right now he's gotta figure some shit out."

Laura slipped off the table, curled onto the end of the bed and handed you something folded and crumpled—streaked in stains of blood and ink that bled through the thin notebook paper. You took it with a shaky breath, cold hands closing around hers with a grim smile. Something to let her know that you were thankful for everything she did.

She wasn't your daughter. This you knew. But you wouldn't mind if she bestowed that title on you one day.

In fact...you hoped she would.

"He told me to give that to you," she said, eyes brighter than before.

You sucked in a painful breath, unfolding the letter with trembling hands. Seeing his handwriting was like a punch to your chest. The smudged words and crossed out lines as he attempted to explain himself in words for the first time. This wasn't his forte—you understood that—but the fact that he tried filled your chest with warmth.

Honey,

Don't hate Wade or even my kid for me not being there. Believe me I fuckin' wanted to. Almost ripped him to pieces when he told me I had to go for your sake. But they were right. You Fortuna was the only family I had left. I have to remember what loving her felt like. I need to let her go.

Wade and Laura are there to protect you, care for you like I can't right now. But I made a promise to you and her. So you can expect me back one day.

I care about you

I love you.

So much.

I'll love you till the end honey. Don't forget that.

-Logan

You clutched the paper to your chest, salt coating your taste buds as you sobbed for the man that you failed to protect. You would have died for him. He knew this. Perhaps that's why he left; to give you a chance to heal without him. To return as the Logan you met, not the one mangled by grief.

Laura moved closer, her hand shifting to clutch yours as tears glistened in her eyes. A solemn smile on her face. This is what Logan offered you. People who loved you; people who would die for you. Logan made sure that even in his absence you'd be safe—protected.

He gave you the one thing he couldn't keep for himself. The one aspect of his life he had to learn to accept.

Logan left you a family.

note: my brain is mush but i love you guys. it will get better i promise!

[makkie-is-screaming]

the things I’ve inherited from my mom

[ittybittybumblebee]

its getting harder and harder to block out my parents bullshit

[im2tired4usernames]

Huh do you guys remember the book tuck everlasting? How the main girl Winnie was a fat ten year old with an immortal love interest who was "17" but actually like 100 n something and the whole thing with him was he wanted her to drink the everlasting water when she turned 17 so shed be 17 forever and they could get married like that was kinda weird he would.like take her just the two of em and talk up marriage with her and she was like TEN ? They changed it in the movie and made her a skinny fifteen year old but still wow I'm surprised why so many christan parents let that romance book be allowed but like....pride n prejudice was a debate? I don't understand the logic of homeschool mother's AT ALL WHY WAS THAT BOOK ALLOWED BUT WHY WAS I SCREAMED AT FOR CHECKING OUT OLD YELLER AT THE LIBRARY BY A HOMESCHOOL MOTHER IN OUR CO-OP???

[astrxealis]

its hard for me to listen to 'our light' bcs wnvr i do i always look at the lyrics again and i just want to cry so badly

[bo0zey]

i’m scFfredscsfed scatsdww scared

[hearturn]

.

[whirlwindofcomplications]

your tags on my pacific rim aus have made what was a truly bad day much better for me. thank you, so much, for reading and reblogging and telling me your thoughts about them. and if you have a specific pairing you want to see in a pacific rim au, just send me a prompt and i'll see what i can do. thank you 😊🥹

ahhh thank you for thinking of them and writing them in the first place!! they're really very good, and i fear i've not done them justice in my tags - literally just made me so emotional i was like YEAHHHHH SHOWSTOPPING INCREDIBLE with zero capacity to put that into words let alone add any meaningful insight into your amazing writing 😭 the fact that i haven't actually seen the movies probably doesn't help but that's neither here nor there 🫢

ANYWAY i'm glad they had that impact and I hope your days going forward are much better <3

and then i put so much into the tags that im adding most of it under here instead ✌🏽

the only thing i've taken away from reading about other people talking about pacific rim is drift compatibility and drift compatibility ONLY. but it's SUCH a good concept. every day i wake up and think 'this lot would be even crazier if they were in mentally tune with their cars + teammates'.

martian? trying to pilot together?? catastrophic. or would it?? fine in the early years but then it detoriates... some pilots not being compatible at all when it comes to it but in a rogue test later down the line it's far better... which is also sewis i fear bc bald lewis and red bull brat seb trying to co-pilot would be nuclear.

and let us not forget my parents, michael and nico, and if pairings happen in chronological order then lewis knows what germancedes was like and how it really affected nico, vice versa for lewis with fernando and jenson... maybe this mental link will save them in lieu of Real Communication... or maybe it'll make them worse... WHO KNOWS

(what would be the pacific rim equivalent of crash/spygate i wonder)

of course sebchal and brocedes are the ones i throw at the walls of my mind the most but like?? prosenna?????? OH MY GOD AND THE MAKKINEN YOU WROTE... bruv... makkinen... michael and senna... or rubens... or kimi... or fernando... dude. mika and nico.

GALEX. if i even begin to think about those two in this context i think i will explode

of course the basic line of thought is lestappen but like. cmon. i gotta. like i don't know wheel for SHIT but their driving styles apparently being similar and all... being crazy and able to match each other's freaks like no other... who else would you want fighting for you if not the two guys who know how the other ticks because it's how THEY tick... although i suppose that would make for some boring strategy instead of them building on each other's ideas and skills etc. like they're not the same person obviously but in other pairings they're bringing hashtag fresh and funky perspectives while lestappen are going yes exactlyyyyyyyyyyy and therefore also doing the same stupid shit like there is no piarles 'you don't have it' because they'd both be out there trying to make the impossible happen. morons

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Sex in the suit (Wolverine)

Description: Y/N wants Logan to fuck her in the Wolverine suit

Warning: Smut, Wade

Word Count: 1,123k

Logan looked so hot in his suit. Y/N couldn’t keep her eyes off him. So much so that Wade teases her about it anytime he sees her staring at him. “Ya know I don’t blame you, Peanut looks hot af in that suit.” Wade says, making Y/N giggle. Logan looks over and sees her giggling. He walks over to them, “You making my girl laugh?” He asked jokingly. Wade raises his eyebrows under his mask, “Listen Friendo you have no reason to be jealous. Little Y/N over here has a mask kink.” Y/N’s jaw dropped at that and looked over at her friend shocked. Logan didn’t really have a reaction which worried her even though they were dating. She looked at him worried but he didn’t even look mad or upset. “Wow, are you turning her down? I’ll take you up on that, cupcake.” Logan glared at him. 

“So the suit turns you on?” He asked them as she ate dinner. She chewed slowly and looked at him. “Wrong time to ask, don't ya think?” She asked. He shrugged, “You’re almost done.” He had a point but she was thinking about food not him fucking her in the suit….well shit now she was. “But yeah, especially the mask.” She says. He raises his brows, “really?” He asked.

She can’t think straight when thinking about it. He looked so sexy in it and all she wanted to do was fuck him. She finished her last bite and quickly took the plate from her. She looked at him as he set it on the table. He came over to her and picked her up, making her giggle. “You keep giggling like that, I’ll fuck you right here on the table babygirl.” He growls. “As long as you wear the suit I don’t care where you fuck me.” She purred. He set her on the counter, “stay right here.” He runs out of the room leaving her in her thoughts. She bit her lip just thinking about what was in store.

She decided to help him out by taking off her sweats leaving her in her shirt and panties. Her panties were lace and yellow fitting the vibe. Her panties were nearly soaked. It wasn’t  too much longer that he walked in the kitchen in the suit and he had the mask on as well. Her jaw dropped as if it was the first time seeing him in the suit. He walked up to her and she wrapped her legs around him pulling him closer, “You look so hot baby.” She said and kissed him. The mask made it a little harder but it was still enjoyable. His large hands moved up her thighs to her wet panties.

She gasped in the kiss as he rubbed over her clothed clit. “Fuck you’re wet.” He groaned. She moaned and threw her head back. His finger sped up the pace and his other hand gripped her hip hard, probably leaving a mark. She tried to move her hips but he stopped her, making her whine. “Relax baby. I want to fuck you on my cock.” His deep voice said. She whimpered at his words and he stopped rubbing her. He pulled down her panties and threw them somewhere in the kitchen. He picked her up and turned her around so her ass was up in the air.

“This beautiful ass is just begging for it.” He said, slapping it. She moaned and shook her ass for him. He pulled down his pants and stroked himself a few times before lining up with her wet hole. He rubbed himself against her a few times before sliding in. He was bigger than anyone she’s had sex with prior but so she still was getting used to his size. It took him a minute to fully be inside of her. Her gasps as she got used to him always got him. Once he was in her, he let her adjust before gripping her hips. His grip was tight as he fucked her back on his cock. He wasn’t joking when he said he was gonna fuck her on his cock.

It was long before she was making the loudest noise possible. Luckily Wade wasn’t staying over like he usually would so they both could be as loud as they wanted. “Fuck Wolvy your dick hits all the right spots.” She whines. Never had she called him that before. But by the speed of him slamming her onto his dick increasing, she knew he liked it. “Fuck sweetheart your pussy is so warm and made for me.” He groaned. Her hands had nothing to grip onto, so her fingers dug into the table.

“Right where we eat letting me take you like the dirty whore you are.” She moaned at that and clenched around him. “Fuck baby girl if you do that again I might cum.” He moaned. He rarely ever moaned, just grunts and groans so she almost fell over the edge hearing that sound. “I’m close.” She whined and he grunted. His pace was inhuman fast as he had her fucking him and basically  rearranging her organs. He twitched inside of her and they both knew that words didn’t and couldn’t be said. Her eyes rolled back and she nearly screamed his name as she came all over his cock.

He slowed the pace to let her ride out her orgasm. Little breathy moans left her mouth. He picked up the pace again making her whine out of sensitivity. “I know, baby. Daddy’s almost there.” He grunted. His hands squeezed her hips hard and he came inside of her not caring about protection. She gasped feeling his cum fill her up for the first time. He pulled out of her and watched as his cum spilled out of her. He took his hand and swirled her hole and pushed some of it back in her. She whimpered and he chuckled, “Be kinda hot to see you pregnant with my baby.” He said.

“Yeah that would be hot, Peanut.” They both turned to see Wade in his Deadpool suit sitting on the window. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Logan growled. Y/N hid her body the best that she could from Wade. “Relax. I nearly missed the climax.” Logan growled and stormed up to him after pulling up his pants. “Why are you mad, Peanut? You at least got some action.” He said in defense. “Wade go home.” Y/N whined, annoyed that he saw them like that. “Not the kind of whining I want to hear.” He said and Wolverine’s claws came out. “Leave.” He growled at Wade and he sighed. “Fine. But next time invite me will ya?” “WADE!”

[not-neverland06]

you're not her

The 'Worst' Logan x fem!mutant!reader

a/n: really wanted to write for the worst logan so I found a streaming site so I could finally watch the new Deadpool movie (yay pirating) (this is totally hypothetical and a joke to the feds lurking) I was going to just read the wiki plot but I don’t think that was going to cut it Again, using the same superhero name/powers. It’s not an OC I swear, it just makes sense in comic book movies to have some alternate name and I’m not creative enough to come up with multiple different supe names. Summary: You hate him, you really fucking hate him at first. He’s cruel and constantly reminds you that you’ll never be the hero he knew. You’re not her and he’s made that abundantly clear. But what are you supposed to do when he’s suddenly your new roommate and you have no choice but to wake up to his face every day? I feel sad because I don’t think I did the angst justice with this one. But if I keep staring at it trying to fix it, then I’m never going to post it. (This is a long one guys) Angst with a happy ending (because I’m a little bitch) Makeout scenes and smut towards the very end 18+ MDNI

You don’t know how you got here, but you know you’re mad at whoever dragged you into this shit. You don’t think it would be wild to assume it was Wade’s fault. Usually, when something goes wrong in your life it’s on him. 

What you do know; you look like shit. Wade and Wolverine are both standing over you in their awesome ass uniforms and you’re still in your fucking pajamas. How are you supposed to be badass and save the world in pants that have Spiderman’s face plastered all over them?

“I’m gonna fucking kill you, Wade,” you growl at him. 

He places his hand daintily on his chest and waves you off, “Save that for the bedroom, pookie.”

You grit your teeth and glare up at him, Wolverine gives him a similarly disgusted look. “Fuckin’ ridiculous,” you grumble under your breath. You get to your feet and brush yourself off, finally looking around and taking in wherever the fuck he’s dragged you. “Where are we?”

“The void,” Wade responds, voice ridiculously dramatic. You look around and throw your hands up in defeat. 

“What the fuck, Wade? Why did you drag me with you into this?” You look over at the Wolverine beside him. He hasn’t stopped glaring at you both and his claws are out, clearly ready to just eviscerate you. “Who the fuck is this?”

“Okay, wow, language, Flux. I’m disappointed in you.”

“Eat me-”

You’re cut off by the knock-off Wolverine standing a few feet behind you both. “Flux?” He demands, voice so low you almost can’t hear him. Both you and Wade’s heads whip around to face him. Thus far he’s been relatively silent, you nearly started to wonder if he was mute. 

“It’s her X-Man name,” Wade tells him, gushing like it’s some big deal. “Impressive, huh?” You don’t bother correcting him that it was your X-Men name. Can’t exactly call yourself that if they booted you off the team for being a crappy superhero. 

Logan snorts and shakes his head. He stalks towards you and you nearly fall over in your attempt to scramble back from him. “You,” he demands, claws pointed at you threateningly. “You’re Flux?”

Wade hisses, watching as Logan swipes out at you. “Alright, peanut, let’s put the claws away and take a deep grounding breath.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Logan snaps at Wade. He turns to glare at him and you take the opportunity to scramble behind your friend for protection. At least if he gets stabbed, he’ll heal. “You,” he scoffs and it trails off into a laugh. There’s no humor behind it, he's just a dick. “You are a fucking joke compared to my Flux.”

The ground underneath you rattles, pebbles bouncing off the cracked desert and ricocheting off their boots. Wade quickly moves away from you, shoving you forward so he’s not in the line of fire. “Yeah, well you’re just an alcoholic fuck who could never hold a candle to my Logan.” 

You can feel energy brewing at the tips of your fingers, waves, and waves of hate building up within you. The man across from you feels the shift, the static suddenly permeating the air around you both. You let your power build and build…

The pebbles drop back to the ground and you stumble back from Logan, nose bleeding from overextending yourself. “Shit,” you mutter, wiping at your face with the back of your hand and shaking your head. 

Logan laughs again, it echoes through the stormy sky and you wish you had any control over your powers so you could just send him flying. Or, better yet, turn his bones into liquid and flip him inside out. “Oh,” he lets out a long exhale, glaring at both of you. “This is fuckin’ ridiculous.” The faux smile drops from his face and he raises his voice just loud enough to make you jump, “Just one big fuckin’ joke!”

You have about five seconds to dive to the side before Logan is lunging at Wade. “Wait, wait, wait we can talk about this!” Wade shouts, but it’s too late, he’s already on the ground getting his head caved in. 

You let out a rough sigh, stumbling off to the side. You’re drained from that shitshow of powers. You barely made a few rocks levitate and you feel like you’re going to pass out. You walk away from the two men and throw yourself on the ground, trying to reorient yourself while they fight like wild animals. 

You can hear them in the background, stabbing and shooting like they’re aiming to kill. Too bad neither of them can die. It’d save you a hell of a headache.  They run past you, Logan’s got his claws buried in Wade’s gut while Wade’s desperately firing off his gun into Logan’s chest. 

Your head rolls weakly to the side and you mutter out a pathetic, “No, stop. Don’t kill each other.” As expected, neither of them listens to you. They keep fighting, showing no signs of stopping. 

There’s a moment of silence after about ten minutes of nothing but grunts and insults. You peak your head up in interest. Logan got his claws posed over Wade’s throat. You wonder if decapitation would actually kill him or if he’d somehow manage to survive that. 

Wade doesn’t seem interested in testing out the theory, “They can fix it!” Wade shouts, “They can fix your timeline. I just need your help saving mine.”

Your eyes widen and you meet Wade’s masked gaze over Logan’s shoulders. The white slits widen and he minutely shakes his head, telling you not to say anything. Like, maybe, that neither of you has any fucking clue if the TVA is capable of even fixing timelines like that. 

You know Wade is desperate when he makes that promise. It’s the only reason he would say something so stupid. It’s a blatant lie, one pulled so far out of Wade’s ass you’re genuinely surprised that Logan can’t smell the bullshit. Whatever happened in his universe must have been horrible for him to ever believe anything that comes out of any Deadpool’s mouth. 

It’s a long moment before Logan finally pulls his claws out of Wade. Your friend slumps forward in relief as Logan stalks away from him. You glare at Wade from where you are on the ground, “That was fucking stupid,” you snipe at him. He gets to his feet, walks over to you, and forcefully yanks you to your feet. 

“Not a goddamn word,” he warns, but you aren’t exactly threatened by him when he's got three holes in his head from Logan’s claws. Still, you hold your hands up and acquiesce, following after him as he chases down Logan. 

Your mind is still fuzzy when you are captured by Cassandra. You're recovering from overextending yourself, eyes blurring and limbs going limp like jello when her army of henchmen circle you all. 

You finally feel yourself starting to come back to your body when you wake up tied to Johnny. “And,” Wade draws the word out, waiting until you lift your head to finish, “there she is! Happy you could join us, princess. Mind turning these ropes into dust for me?”

You groan and let your head slump onto Johnny’s shoulder. He smirks and glances down at you. “Oh fuck off, both of you. I can’t do shit right now and you know it, Wade, I’m drained.” 

Logan is glaring at you, but there’s less hate in his glare and more confusion now. “Can you do anything?”

You narrow your eyes at him, lips screwed up while you try to decide if he’s being an asshole or genuine. “Hard of hearing or something old man? I’m drained,” you reiterate, your tone a little too bitchy. 

Logan narrows his eyes, grunting something foul under his breath. Wade interferes before you can piss each other off anymore. “She had an accident, her brain’s a little broken now. But it’s fine! Whose isn’t?”

You huff and throw yourself back against the cage you’re all being transported in. You feel eyes on the side of your head and slowly look over to see Johnny grinning at you. “Hey, you know I’ve met one of your variants-”

“Don’t give a fuck,” you interrupt. You hear Wade snicker under his mask, giving you an encouraging thumbs up even with his hands bound. You were both a little disappointed it wasn’t Captain America lurking under that cloak. But at least this guy isn’t such a prude he won’t cuss. 

For the next five minutes, you’re on the receiving end of a very enthusiastically vulgar rant about just what a cunt Cassandra Nova is. He’s still not even finished by the time you reach the gates to her lair.

Your eyes widen when you see all the people lurking around the walls. Most of them you recognize as people you’ve put away or killed in your world. But there’s something just minutely different about them than the version you faced in your timeline. Their eye color or outfit is always just slightly off. 

The familiar faces are almost a relief. But there is nothing comforting about knowing you're outnumbered two hundred to four. The cage is tipped over and you go rolling out, you grunt as Johnny’s elbow digs into your ribs. 

Before you can even attempt to shove him off, the ropes are whipped off of you and you’re dragged by an invisible force across the ground. Rocks and sand scrape across your tender skin and bury themselves deep in your pores. You hiss in pain when you finally come to a stop and your body is your own again. 

A groan slips through your parted lips unbidden as you struggle onto your knees. Your pajamas are ripped practically everywhere and you feel like you might as well be naked at this point. You really wished that you at least had a chance to change before you were kidnapped to another universe. 

The woman you presume to be Cassandra Nova is currently fucking Wade’s skull with her freakish telepathy fingers. Johnny’s a pile of guts and bones on the floor and you have no fucking clue where she flung Logan to. 

You get to your feet, shaking your head and reorienting yourself. In a second she’s in front of you, head tilted to the side while she regards you curiously. “Woah,” you jump back, glaring at her outstretched hand. 

“Careful,” Wade warns her breathlessly, still clutching his head. “Flux here has a pathological fear of bald people.”

You nod, “It’s true, you can imagine how strained my relationship with your brother was.” Cassandra circles you, a devious tilt to her lips. Your eyes track her, unwilling to take your gaze off her for even a second. You feel like a rabbit, facing down a fox that’s made its way into your burrow. 

“Curious,” she mutters. “I’ve seen quite a few of you down here before. But,” she chuckles and before you can move her hand is shoving its way into your brain. You scream, there’s an agonizing burn as her fingers probe under your eyes and dig through the deepest part of your subconscious. It feels like someone’s taking a shovel and ripping up your worst traumas. “None of them have been so weak.”

Wonderful, even she wants to insult you. You can feel the way she’s plucking through your thoughts, tossing aside the ones she doesn’t like. Images of your childhood are flashing across your vision. You can no longer see the world around you, it’s like every one of your worst memories is being played on a projector. 

“Ah,” she clicks her tongue and jerks your neck around until you’re looking at something you’ve tried to forget for years. “Here it is. How easy it would be for me to simply unblock those powers of yours.” She smiles, her face appearing before you and blocking out the bloodshed. “It would make this far more entertaining for me, what do you say?”

Your teeth are clenched so tightly you’re surprised they haven’t cracked yet. It’s hard to get the words out when her fingers are still dancing through your skull. “Fuck you,” you finally spit out. She releases you suddenly, and you surge forward with a gasp, clutching at your skull desperately. 

You half expect your brains to begin leaking from your nose and eyes. But nothing happens, despite feeling incredibly violated, everything is still in its proper place. Cassandra walks past you like everything is fine and dandy in the world. “Well, as much as I would love to see those powers of yours in action again, Flux, I’m afraid Alioth must eat.”

Before you can ask what she's talking about there’s a loud rumble. Like thunder cracking through the sky and land, the ground underneath you shakes. Cracks form under your feet and the henchmen around you all start desperately racing for cover. 

You turn around, staring wide-eyed at the purple cloud of death and destruction steadily moving across the sky. A face breaks through the clouds, grinning down at you. Purple lightning hits the ground and the villain next to you explodes into nothing but dust. 

“Shit!” You shout, turning around and running to try and avoid getting zapped up next. There’s no coming back from this one. Once this monster gets you, not even god could save you. 

Suddenly, an arm wraps around your waist, lifting you off your feet. “No time for consent, we’ve got to get the fuck outta here!” Wade shouts in your ear. Logan is standing next to some robot leg, ripping out cords until a jet on the back fires up. Wade leaps onto the boot, wrapping an arm around Logan’s legs as you’re all shot into the sky. 

You’d scream if you weren’t trying not to throw up. You hurtle through the sky at speeds that have your skin nearly ripping off your skull. The rocket on the back of the leg starts to sputter out. The flames flickering out and then back to life. It steadily begins to drop until you’re plummeting headfirst towards the ground. 

Wade wraps himself around you, tossing himself off the boot so he can brace your fall. You hear and feel nearly all of his bones break under your weight. For a moment it feels like you’re laying on warm jello as you try and catch your breath. 

“Nailed it,” he mutters weakly. You’re pretty sure he can’t breathe, a rib having pierced his lung in the fall. A shadow looms over you and you glance up to find Logan glaring down at you. You stare at him apprehensively, half expecting him to unsheathe his claws and just end you right here. 

Instead, to your surprise, he holds a hand out. You look at it with suspicion, glaring back up at him. “Fucks sake,” he mutters. He reaches down, roughly grabbing your hand and jerking you to your feet. You feel the warmth of Wade’s blood on your back and grimace. 

“Thanks,” you mutter, still not entirely trusting of him. 

He purses his lips into a thin line, backing awkwardly away from you. He just nods and starts surveying the land around you. It feels less like trying to figure out where you all landed and more like awkwardly avoiding eye contact. 

The whole interaction leaves you feeling odd. “Well, that was as awkward as two virgins on prom night,” Wade loudly announces as he jumps to his feet. You whip around and send him a dirty look but his attention has already been snagged by something else. Lately, you’ve been considering grounding up Adderall and slipping it into his breakfast, you think it might do him some good. 

What’s got to be the fugliest dog you’ve ever seen in your life bounds towards Wade. He drops to his knees, ripping off his mask and opening his arms wide to the mutt. You grimace, taking a step back when she starts licking his face. “Oh, that’s just wrong.”

Thankfully dogless, you steal Nicepool’s Honda Odyssey - much to Wade’s chagrin. Logan’s in the front seat, Wade beside him. You’re sitting in the back, rubbing your temples and trying to get rid of the raging migraine you’ve had since Cassandra finger blasted your brain. 

You’ve been zoning in and out of the conversation happening in the front seat of the car. But Logan suddenly slams on the brakes and you go hurtling forward. Without even looking at you, both their arms shoot out, blocking you from flying through the windshield. 

Your face scrunches up as you look at both their arms, it feels like being saved by an overbearing soccer mom. “Buckle up, princess,” Wade tells you. He shoves you back into your seat and you look between the two men suspiciously. 

“Did you just say if?” Logan growls, glaring at Wade. Your face drops, finally realizing what you’d missed. 

Wade lets out a weak chuckle, “Slip of the tongue?” Logan growls and the claws come out. Wade raises his hands, “Okay, let’s put a brake on the crazy train. I wasn’t lying it was just an educated,” for the first time in your friendship Wade is actually speechless. You’re shocked by the silence. Until, of course, he runs his mouth again and comes up with the lamest cop-out you’ve ever heard. “It was an educated wish that they could fix your timeline, alright?”

Logan doesn’t give much of a warning except a low growl before he shoves his claws deep into Wade’s thigh. “You motherfucker!”

“Hey!” You shout, jumping forward and ripping Logan’s claws out of Wade’s leg. “Look, we’re trying to save our whole fucking universe. Can you blame him for lying?” You regret opening your mouth pretty much immediately. 

You should have just stayed out of this, it wasn’t any of your business. And if they wanted to be two dumbasses and fucking tear each other apart then so be it. But you never should have drawn attention to yourself. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Logan shouts at you. It’s so startling, coming from him. You’re still associating him with the man you’d looked up to growing up. Your Wolverine was a hero. He was the reason you wanted to be an X-Man. And they look exactly the same, it’s nearly impossible for you to separate this one from the one you knew. 

But it's easier now. Because the man you’d known would never be so cruel and jaded to the world. Not like this. “Why the fuck are you even here? You’re just some watered-down knockoff of a real hero. You are nothing, you’re worth nothing. It’s a fucking joke that you’re alive and the woman I knew is buried six feet deep. If there was anything right in the world you would be in a grave somewhere crawling with maggots.”

Your eyes water without your permission. You don’t know this man. Yet, he has the face of your greatest hero and the man who you’d grown up hearing stories about. It’s like facing everything you’ve ever wanted to be and having it shout your deepest fears and insecurities back at you. He’s just confirming something you’ve known for years. You never deserved the title of being an X-Man. You never deserved the uniform or anything that came with it. 

Your breaths are coming short and fast, it feels like your lungs are constricting. You worry you won’t be able to get air in but he doesn’t care. No, he keeps going. “You follow this fucking clown around and you contribute nothing to the world. You’re never gonna save your fucking timeline. You can’t even make a few rocks float.” It’s not the words that hurt you next. It’s the way he says it. “You’re pathetic.”

He spits them at you. There’s venom lacing his tone like he’s seen into you and knows there’s nothing in you to offer. For the first time in a long time, you feel seen and you hate it. Because he’s looking past the sarcasm and the faux confidence you carry yourself with. 

He sees the empty husk of a woman you truly are and he’s forcing you to face it with him. It causes you physical pain, to know that everything you’ve ever feared about yourself is true. You don’t have anything to say to him, you can’t. 

Your lips tremble and you feel so fucking small. You can hear your parent's voices in your head, screaming at you and wishing you were never born. They’d rather have a stillborn than a fucked up mutant for a daughter. You see the way even other kids at the school would hide from you. You were made wrong, even as a mutant you were never truly accepted. 

Logan’s face drops ever so slightly at the prolonged silence in the car. Even Wade isn’t speaking, he’s just staring at you both. “I,” he starts, but Wade cuts him off. 

“I’m gonna hurt you now.” Wade’s never been one to let people run over you, even when you might just let yourself fall into the background. You shouldn’t be surprised when he draws a knife and stabs it into Logan’s throat. 

But the arterial spray that follows catches you off guard and suddenly your tears are dried. Instead, you’re throwing open the car door and diving out before one of them crushes you. You make it out of the car just in time, Logan having thrown Wade right where you had been sitting. 

Music starts up in the car as a result of their fighting. Divorced dad rock and the sounds of their, borderline, sexual grunting are your soundtrack for the rest of the night. You curl up at the base of a tree, waiting for them to be done with each other. 

Logan’s words continue to echo through your head. And the longer you linger on what he said the angrier you get. Not necessarily at him, but at yourself. You’ve let yourself linger in self-pity and wallow in regret for so long. 

You look in the mirror and you no longer recognize yourself. He’s right, as much as you hate to admit it, you’re a fucking joke. You toss your head back, slamming it against the trunk of the tree hard enough for it to hurt. 

There’s this manic, cloying feeling tugging at your chest. It’s like someone’s sitting on your ribs, crushing you until you can’t breathe anymore. You keep throwing your head back, letting the pain distract you until you feel warm blood leaking down the back of your scalp. 

“Shit,” you hiss, hand coming up to cradle the back of your skull. You wince when you feel the split in your skin. The blood leaks over the tips of your fingers, running through the cracks of your palm. 

You force yourself to relax, to move your head away from the tree. As you go to stand up, possibly to get Wade and Logan to quit their fighting, you notice something odd. The air around you is still, you can no longer hear them grunting or groaning as they rock the Honda. 

Leaves are suspended in the air. They’re not trembling from the breeze, they’re completely frozen. You take a step forward and gasp when you hit something solid. The air in front of you has solidified somehow. 

The realization dawns on you slowly but surely. This is you, you’ve done this. Manipulated everything around you on an atomic level. You’ve turned something you shouldn’t be able to feel into something you can touch. Frozen the world around you. Whatever Cassandra had done inside your head, it had knocked something loose. 

You haven’t had this wide a range of control for years. Any attempt to do something like this has been met with nosebleeds and long periods of blacking out. Elation fills you, the hurt from earlier is nearly gone. 

You glance through the wall of air and try to see if you can still see the Odyssey. To your horror, it’s gone. You wave your hands and the air returns to normal. The leaves drift back to the forest floor and you run back to where you’d left the two men. 

There are tire tracks dug deep into the mud. You know Wade wouldn’t willingly leave you behind, not here. You don’t know if Logan’s just kidnapped him or if someone else has. Whoever was driving was clearly in a rush to get out of here. 

You must have missed it all while you were having your meltdown. “Fuck,” you shout, your voice echoing into the branches above. You take in a deep breath and start walking. Hopefully, you can catch up to them before whoever has them does serious damage. 

You make it to a weird cave/hideout area. The Odyssey is parked outside and when you peek through the broken windows you find the interior completely destroyed. There’s blood soaking through every surface, anything and everything has been smashed and bent the wrong way. 

You don’t even know if this is from Wade and Logan or whoever had snatched them. Shaking your head you back up and slink towards the entrance of the den. You can hear shouting inside, it sounds like Wade, but you can’t make out what he’s saying. 

You haven’t seen action for a long time. At least not any that you could actually contribute to. It feels a bit like riding a bike. You’d practiced on your way here, making things around you float or eradicating a few trees into nothing but dust in the wind. But this is different. 

Your friend (and Logan) are inside, possibly being tortured. Maybe even dead. Though, you seriously doubt the universe is going to be that nice to you. You let the energy build in your arms, it’s like a warm tingling feeling. It shoots down to the palms of your hands until you feel static in the air. 

You take a step inside and spot three people. Each of them is decked out in weapons. One of them turns and spots you. “Who is-” 

You don’t let him finish, throwing your hands out and slamming them all into the wall so hard the whole interior shakes. Dirt rains down from the ceilings while their faces contort in pain. You run inside, spotting Logan and Wade. 

You shoot Wade a big grin but he throws his hands up and shouts, “Read the fucking room!” Your brows furrow and he points emphatically at the people you’re holding, “Good guys!”

“Oh shit,” you release them immediately, a guilty look on your face. “I am so sorry.” Logan cackles in the back, doubled over laughing while the three people in front of you brush themselves off. 

You don’t want to be out here with him, but it’s better than being in that cave with the others. Laura walks past you, sending you an uneasy smile. You’d noticed her sitting beside Logan and decided they probably needed a few moments to themselves. 

They were finished now, though, and he had the only bottle of liquor left in the cave with him. You trudge over to him, leaves crunching under your boots. Elektra, after that horrific introduction, had given you a uniform a different Flux had left behind. 

She was long gone, killed by Cassandra years ago, but she’d conveniently been your exact size. The uniform is nearly identical to the one you have buried under your bed. Black leather with a dark purple X going across your chest and matching purple seams. You’d never wanted something ridiculously flashy. Just something that people would see and associate with the X-Men. 

Because that’s all you’d ever wanted to be; a hero. It feels like a pipe dream now. If your pajamas weren’t so destroyed you would have just stayed in them. You don’t feel like you deserve this uniform, not when the woman who’d worn it before you had actually been a hero in her timeline. 

“Don’t want company,” Logan snarks, without even looking back to see who’s coming up to him.

You take a seat on the lawn chair closest to him and snatch the bottle of whiskey from his hands. “Good,” you tilt your head back, downing as much as possible. It burns the whole way and you revel in the slight tickle in the back of your throat. 

“Alright,” Logan mutters. He gently takes the bottle back from you, giving you an aggrieved look when he sees just how much you’ve stolen. He looks back into the fire and sighs, “Look, I’m not interested in hearing about your sob story or why you’re suddenly drinking all my liquor-”

“Gambit’s liquor,” you interrupt, not bothering to look at him. “And I’m not looking to dump my sob story on your lap. I just want to sit in silence and that’s impossible because Wade hasn’t stopped running his mouth since we got here.”

He looks a little surprised by the brusque way you dismiss him, “Alright,” he mutters. He takes another swig from the bottle and you both stare silently into the fire. It’s like that for a while, you don’t bother keeping track of time. 

All you hear is the crackling of the flames. All you can feel is the way your eyes burn from staring into the fire and watching sparks pop off the logs for too long. The breeze rustles the trees, makes the leaves shake free and dance around the logs of the fire. 

He breaks the silence first, to your chagrin. “About what I said,” he clears his throat uncomfortably, still refusing to look at you, “back in the car.”

“Don’t,” you snap, voice low. “Just,” you let out a long breath and shake your head. You finally look over and meet his eyes. He does actually look sorry, but you don’t want to hear it. “Just don’t, I deserved it all right.”

“No, no you didn’t.” You open your mouth to argue but he gives you a firm look that has your jaw snapping shut. “I was wrong, I don’t know you. And if my Flux had ever heard me talking to you like that she would have melted my fucking spine.” He laughs a little and you feel your lips twitch up slightly. It’s the first time you’ve seen him look anything but angry. 

Curiosity loosens your tongue and knocks you out of the dazed stupor you’ve been in. “What was she like?” You ask, tone earnest. “Your Flux, I mean, you make her sound so amazing. I just can’t,” you trail off, but the look on his face tells you he understands your unspoken words. I just can’t see myself as a real hero. 

He groans and leans back on the log he’s resting on. He stretches his legs out in front of him, the liquor bottle placed on the forest floor. You’re surprised, you figured the thing was glued to his hand. 

“Well,” he reaches up and scratches at the scruff of his chin, a wry grin on his face. “She was always giving me shit, never let me get away with anything.” You unconsciously lean forward, drawn into the endearing way he begins to describe this other version of you. 

It’s not ridiculous to assume this variant meant something to him. He’s got a shine to his eye that you haven’t seen in the whole time you’ve been together. His gaze has been empty, closed off to anything and everything. But now, his eyes are crinkling at the corners, there’s an easy smile on his face that you can’t miss. 

“Ah, she was fucking feisty. And strong, she was so strong. She was always a better hero than I was. She lived for that shit,” he trails off and shakes his head. You can see you’re losing him and you don’t want this to end. You’re in your own little bubble right now, getting to pretend there’s a version of you out there somewhere that actually lived up to her potential. 

“Her powers,” you blurt out, desperate for something to stop him from retreating back into his mind. “Did she have, um, good control over them?”

Logan nods, eyes darting down to the bottle of whiskey before flickering back up to meet your gaze again. “Yeah, Charles trained her, she was right up there with Jean. She could have,” he stops and suddenly you feel guilty for making him talk about this. You can see the tears in the corner of his eyes, the way the whites of them go red. “She could have been great.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, “I didn’t mean to pry.” But you did. You were being selfish and forcing him to talk about it even though you knew it would hurt him. 

“Look, kid, she would have liked you. I’ll tell you that much,” he says reluctantly. Like the words hurt to force out. You suppose he isn’t used to being genuine with anyone. 

You shake your head and look down at your hands. “I appreciate the thought, but I doubt it.”

Logan grabs the bottle again, gulping it down like it's water. His words have a slight slur to them as he speaks again. “I think I would know, bub. ‘Sides, you made it into the X-Men, tells me what I need to know.”

You scoff and fix him with a sardonic look, he raises his brows in question and you roll your eyes. “They’ll take fucking anybody. And I still wasn’t good enough for them.”

Logan shakes his head and frowns. “If what I saw in there,” he points back to the den and you feel your cheeks warm as you remember what you’d done, “is any indication, then I’m sure you were plenty good.”

You lean towards him, elbows braced on your knees. He follows suit, leaning so close you almost want to back up. The proximity flusters you slightly but you shake the feeling off. “You don’t even know me and the first real thing you said to me was that I’d be more useful as fertilizer.”

He sighs, face screwing up at your harsh words. He runs a hand over his cheeks and groans, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

You lean back in your chair and idly twirl your hand through the air. The leaves around you lift up and flutter through the air above your head. Logan watches and you turn back to him, waiting until his eyes meet yours to speak again. “Yes, you did. And you were right. I’m fucking useless, powers or not.” The leaves drop, a few fluttering into the fire. “We’re irrelevant, Wolverine, two washed-up X-Men who never looked good in the uniform.”

There’s a twinge of hurt on his face but you can’t make yourself feel bad about it. Since he’s such a fan of brutal truth, you’re sure he can handle it. 

You watch as the leaves curl up at the corners, the fire burning them straight through the middle. You get to your feet and move past him. You’re nearly back to the den when he calls, “The suit looks right on you,” over his shoulder.

You pause at the threshold of the door. He’s already drinking again, staring into the fire and watching it burn. You take a few steps towards him, staring at his broad back. “What happened to her, your me?”

Logan looks down at his hands, his ring finger specifically. You wonder at the significance of the movement, what exactly you’d meant to him. “She married me,” he mutters, voice cold and closed off again. 

“Goodnight, Logan,” you whisper, finally walking inside the den. 

You miss the small goodnight he sends back to you, finally turning around only to watch you leave. 

There had been a very clear plan set in place. Get Juggernaut’s helmet, put it on Cassandra, and then kill that psychotic bitch. Which is why you’re so confused when you’re standing knee-deep in guts and watching Logan and Wade leap through a portal above you. 

You don’t have time to feel angry or even hurt that they left without you. Laura is grabbing your arm and you’re both running for your life, trying to escape Alioth again. You run into Cassandra’s lair ducking into one of the rooms and dragging Laura with you. 

You’re both holding your breaths and praying that he’s sated by the others still outside. After a few minutes, the cracks of thunder stop and you risk peeking your head outside. The clouds have retreated back to their usual spot in the middle of the void. 

You take in the carnage of Cassandra’s evil lair. Most everybody is dead. You only have to skirt around a few people to get back to the Odyssey. 

You throw yourself in the driver’s seat and sink back against the bloodstained cushions. You let out a relieved breath and look at Laura, “What do you do to entertain yourself around here?”

You acclimated to the idea of being stuck in the void pretty quickly. There wasn’t exactly a lot waiting for you back home. Besides, Laura was nice enough. You had food, beer, and company. You didn’t really need much else. 

You’re pretty sure if you linger too long on the thought that Wade left you behind you’ll fall into a depression that you’re never going to be able to claw your way out of. So, you forced a smile on your face and played cards. Nothing else to do but wait to die of old age or for Alioth to kill you. 

Of course, your plans had to be ruined. There was an odd rush of air against your back and then a slight whoosh. Laura glanced over your shoulders and her brows furrowed, you turned around to find three armored men waiting behind you. 

“Flux,” the man glanced from you to Laura, “X-23?”

“Laura,” you both correct at the same time. 

The man gives an aggrieved sigh and holds his arm out, “Come with me, please.”

You stand up, energy tingling in the palms of your hands while you regard them suspiciously. Laura comes up behind you, claws out and glaring at them. “Why should we?” You demand. 

Barely a second later you hear the most insufferable voice in the world. “Hiya, peanut!” 

“Wade,” you hiss. You follow the armored men through an oddly shaped portal and find Wade standing beside a shirtless Logan, smiling proudly at you. “You fucking left me,” you hold up your hands and his eyes widen. 

His hands quickly come up, trying to assuage you, “Hold on now-”

You throw him back, his body hurtling into a nearby building and caving in the wall. Logan watches it happen with a small smile, “Been wanting to do that for a while.” 

Once Wade had recovered he filled you in on everything that happened. TVA did a general clean up and then you were standing in front of your apartment door, keys in hand like nothing had happened. 

It was so bizarre, going from a mission to save your timeline and then you’re expected to just go about your life. You stay standing in that hallway for you don’t know how long before you hear someone behind you. 

You jump and drop your keys when Logan clears his throat. “Shit,” you hiss, whirling around and glaring at him while your heart races. He chuckles and bends over to grab your keys for you. 

“Sorry,” he mutters. This is the most relaxed you’ve ever seen him, covered in blood and in a borrowed shirt. “Uh, Wade doesn’t have enough room at his place. Told me I should come over here.”

You look over his shoulder and see Wade peeking his head out of his doorway. He catches your eye, sending you a thumbs up. You almost smile but then he makes a phallic gesture with his hands, pointing at Logan and humping the air. You glare at him and he quickly backs into his apartment, but not before sending you one last encouraging shit-eating grin. 

You look back at Logan and he’s waiting expectantly for your answer. “Yeah,” you take your keys from him and unlock the door. “I’ve got a spare room but there’s no bed in it right now.” Your eyes widen when you see the mess that is your apartment. 

You quickly rush through, picking up empty take-out boxes and dirty laundry and shoving them into your room. He’s smiling at you when you come back and it's slightly off-putting. “Um,” you gesture towards the couch awkwardly. “You can take the sofa tonight and we’ll look at setting you up with something more permanent tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” he hovers by the armrest and you engage in the longest stare-off of your life. Neither of you says anything for a few suffocating moments before he gestures at himself. “Shower?”

“Oh,” you snap out of your stupor and nod your head. “Yeah, right, of course.” You show him down the hall, “Here. I’ll go get you a towel.”

You rush towards your linen closet, leaving him behind in your bathroom. You grab a few clean towels and then figure he might want some clothes as well. You grab some pajamas that Wade’s left over when he’s crashed before. They’ll probably be a bit tighter on Logan, but you wouldn’t mind seeing that. 

You walk back to the bathroom and the thought of knocking doesn’t even run through your head. It should, honestly, but you’re already so thrown off by him even being here. You walk in and immediately gasp and drop the towels. 

“Oh, I'm sorry. I’m so sorry.” He’s standing naked before you. Clothes discarded on the floor behind him. Everything on perfect display. Your eyes land on his abs, noticing a few prominent veins leading down-

You cover your face and turn around. “Sorry,” you mutter again. God, you’re such an idiot. You still haven’t even left. You’d just been shamelessly ogling the man naked and you don’t even have the decency to walk out. 

You really can’t help it though. It’s been such a clusterfuck, the last 72 hours. Your brain is fried and Wade’s little show hasn’t helped you at all.  

You hear Logan laugh behind you. “It’s alright,” he mutters. Something warm ghosts across your arm and you jump slightly. His hand firmly grasps your bicep, gently tugging your palms away from your face. 

You risk a glance over your shoulder and nearly gasp at how close he’s gotten. He's towering over you, something in his face you can’t place. “It’s alright,” he whispers again and you find yourself nodding without really thinking. 

He’s got both hands on your arms now, trailing up and down. The touch is so featherlight you can barely feel it at all. You don’t even realize how he’s gently coaxing you closer until you trip on the towels at your feet. 

You startle, looking down at them and moving to kick them aside. But he stops you, his finger nudging your chip up so you’ll look at him again. There is such blatant want painted across his face that it makes your heart skip a beat. Your breath catches in your throat when he wraps an arm around your waist and drags you closer. 

You can feel all of him. You can feel just how much he wants you. It catches you off guard, this sudden display of attraction. You don’t know where it’s coming from, what’s brought it on. But you can’t find it in yourself to care. You’ve been so lonely for so long. You just want to bask in the fact that he looks absolutely starved for you. 

No man has ever looked at you with such heartbreakingly yearning eyes - like he’s been looking for you his whole life. He dips down, lips ghosting gently over yours. Your breaths mingle together, you can nearly taste him. 

It’s unclear which one of you moves first, who pushes closer to the other. But it doesn’t matter because the second you put real pressure behind the kiss he’s all over you. One of his hands drifts down to your ass, squeezing the flesh there and dragging you closer, grinding his hips into yours. 

You moan at the feeling, your arms wrap around his neck and you press yourself even closer. He groans against your lips at the first swipe of your tongue. You part with a gasp when he picks you up, practically tossing you onto your sink. Your legs spread instinctually, making room for him as he slots himself between them. 

It’s odd, feeling so vulnerable even when he’s the one who's completely naked. It still feels like he’s holding all the power. 

His lips are moving frantically over yours like he’s terrified you’re going to disappear the second he lets go. You can taste something desperate on his tongue. Something deeply rooted inside him that you can’t identify. 

One of your hands drifts from his neck, trailing over the muscles of his chest. Your fingers carve a path down his abs, relishing in how muscular he feels under your palm. Your hand reaches his pelvis, nearly wrapped around him when he jumps back. 

He grabs your wrist in a grip so tight you know there’s going to be a bruise. A pained gasp slips out and he releases you immediately. “I’m sorry,” he mutters. “Sorry, I can’t.” He won’t look at you now, backing up towards the shower and shaking his head. “This was a bad idea, I can’t do this.”

You shake your head, slipping off the sink and hiding your bruised wrist behind your back. “No, sorry, I shouldn’t have moved so fast.”

You feel too ashamed to meet his eye. He kissed you but you feel like you’ve forced yourself on him somehow. It’s a nauseating feeling and you want nothing more than to run back to your room and hide. 

He takes a step towards you, something pained on his face. “Kid-”

You just shake your head, step out of the bathroom, and grab the handle of the door. “Sorry,” you whisper again, closing the door behind you. You lean against the cool wood, trying to catch your breath. 

Your hand drifts up to your lips, still tingling from how desperately he’d kissed you. It doesn’t make any sense. He came on to you, he threw you up on the sink, and made out with you more passionately than any man ever has before. So why are you the one who feels dirty?

You rush down the hall and into your room, slamming the door behind you. You dive under your covers, closing your eyes even though you know you won’t sleep. No, your shoulders are tensed up to your ears and your bones are vibrating with an energy you need to release. 

You’re completely tuned into the other person lurking in your apartment. You can hear as he starts the shower, how he talks quietly to himself sometimes. Then when he gets out you can perfectly picture what he looks like while he’s getting dressed and it only makes you feel worse. 

You listen as he leaves the bathroom and pauses in the hall. You can see it in your mind’s eye, how he stares at your door. He walks towards it and lingers for a minute before cussing quietly and heading back into the living room. 

You suddenly remember that you didn’t lay sheets out on the couch for him. You feel guilty, but there’s not one part of you that will be dragged from this bed and face him. Not now, at least. 

He’s up for a little while longer, getting water. Turning the TV on and off. Rooting through your cabinets looking for booze you know you don’t have. Finally, he settles on the couch. You’re awake for another hour, unable to relax until you’re completely sure he’s asleep. Even as you drift off and your body finally relaxes your mind doesn’t. You keep seeing that stricken look on his face and it makes you sick to your stomach. 

It’s the smell of pancakes that wakes you up. You’re not sure when you finally managed to pass out last night but you know it was late. Which is why you’re so pissed off that you’re being forced to get up at seven in the morning. 

You’re used to being able to sleep in a lot later than that. You’re already in a pissy mood from last night and it only gets worse as you trudge around your room getting ready. You’ve never been more thankful to have snagged one of the rare two-bathroom apartments in the building.

You don’t want to have to share a bathroom with Logan. You don’t even want to use the other one after what happened last night. It’s too embarrassing and painful to think about. The emotional whiplash of feeling so desired and then absolutely hideous is making your head spin. 

You’re sure it was all just a problem on his end, but it really doesn’t make you feel any better. When you can’t stall any longer, and you know that Logan has heard you get up, you slip quietly out of your room. 

The curtains in your living room are open and he’s in the kitchen fucking around with your stove. The news is playing quietly on the TV and you’re astounded about how little he’s done and how much more homely your apartment feels. 

It’s never really been home to you. Not after you were booted from the X-Men. But he’s somehow made it ten times cozier than it ever has been. You almost resent him a little for it. 

“Morning,” he grumbles from the kitchen. “Coffee,” he motions behind him and you see a steaming cup already waiting for you. You silently slip behind him, grabbing the creamer from the fridge and pouring it until you’re sure it’s sweet enough to not actually taste the coffee. 

“Thanks,” you mutter, moving to sit at the table. You keep your eyes trained on the TV, pretending to pay attention to the news so you don’t have to look at him. He bores his eyes into the side of your head until you feel like you’re going to have holes in your temple. 

When you can’t take it anymore you finally look over at him. He doesn’t smile, his face barely even twitches, he just looks back to his pan and continues scrambling some eggs. “Didn’t know you cooked,” you offer up weakly, already growing anxious from the silence. 

It feels wrong, to be walking on eggshells in your own apartment. He grunts and shrugs, “Not really cooking. You had the mix in your pantry,” he tells you brusquely. His tone borders on rude and you scoff. 

The audacity of this man to have an attitude with you in your apartment. He was the one who threw a hissy fit last night. You roll your eyes and go back to the news, all it tells you is that the world is just as depressing as the inside of your apartment is right now. 

You notice out of the corner of your eye the way his shoulders slump forward. He leans against the oven, seeming not to care if he burns himself. You suppose it doesn’t matter, he’d just heal. “Sorry,” he mutters. It sounds like it pains him to say the words. 

“Whatever,” you mumble under your breath. You take a long sip of your coffee, slurping a little so you have something to fill the atmosphere. 

He puts some food on a plate and brings it over to the table for you. You usually don’t eat breakfast, preferring to just skip the meal and eat a bigger lunch. But it feels too bitchy to say that to him, so you just accept the food with a strained smile. “Thanks.”

He sits across from you, glaring down at your table like it insulted him. You drag your fork against the plate, letting the scrape of metal against porcelain drown out your worries. Finally, he looks at you. “Look, about last night.”

You tense up. You want to interrupt him, to stop him from explaining. You know it’s just going to hurt your feelings, whatever he says. Whether he tells you it was a mistake or he just realized he’s not attracted to you, either way, you’re fucked. But, it’s also kept you up all night so you just shut your mouth and let him speak. 

You keep your gaze trained on your plate, unable to fully face him. He lets out a long sigh and clenches his fork so tight you hear the metal bend. He drops it to the table and clenches and unclenches his fists a few times. 

“I just couldn’t kiss you, not when I wasn’t doing it for the right reasons.”

Your brows furrow in confusion and you finally look up at him. “What?” You demand, disbelief coloring your voice. 

His eyes are boring into yours, an intensity behind the stare that leaves you feeling a little shaken. “You look like her,” he whispers, and the grief is so thick in his voice it makes your throat tighten. He pauses briefly before continuing. “There are,” he clears his throat like he’s trying not to cry. It makes you lean back in your chair, arms crossed over your stomach uncomfortably. 

“There are a few differences, obviously. You’re not a carbon copy. But your mannerisms, your attitudes, you’re so similar. And I,” he shakes his head and gives you one of the most genuinely apologetic looks you’ve ever received. You can tell he really does feel guilty for projecting on you but it doesn’t make you feel any less uncomfortable. “And I just wasn’t doing that for the right reasons. I was pretending you were her and that’s just not fair to you.”

You lean your elbows on the table, head falling into your hands. You let out a rough sigh and groan in irritation. You knew the reason would hurt but you didn’t think it would be this bad. You feel gross, icky under your skin knowing that he was pretending you were another version of yourself. The version of yourself you’ve always wanted to be; the hero. 

But you also feel such a deep sadness and sympathy for him. He’d briefly mentioned that he was married to this other you. You can’t even begin to imagine what it would feel like, to see your dead wife’s face staring at you and she doesn’t even know you. 

“I,” you don’t even know where to begin. You struggle to say anything for a minute and you both just stew in the tense silence. You take in a deep breath and look up at him. You do what you always do, forcing a smile and shrugging it off. “I appreciate the honesty, really.” You stand up, bringing your still-full plate into the kitchen and busying yourself with cleaning up. 

“Clearly,” you snap, your voice crueler than it should be, “It was a mistake. We’ll just have to make sure it doesn’t happen again, right?”

Logan sits silently at the table. He looks like there’s more he wants to say but you don’t give him the chance. You can’t take it. You finally thought someone had wanted you for you, flaws and all. You’re a fucking idiot, he barely even knows you. Whatever connection you thought was there was just brought about by your own loneliness. 

“I gotta get ready for work,” you tell his back because he isn’t looking at you now. 

He nods, scraping his fork across the plate as he aggressively cuts into his food. “Right.” You wait for him to say anything else but he doesn’t. 

You walk past him and head back to your room. You don’t even have a job, you don’t have to work. But you still grab your purse and head out of the apartment. Pretending you do just so you don’t have to look at him anymore. 

You really should have let him finish, though. You should have let him keep talking to you. Let him explain how as much as he sees her in you, that’s not why he wants you. He wants you for you. Because as similar as you can be, you’re still a completely different person from who his late wife was. You’re someone strong and incredible and he genuinely wants you. But he can never really let himself be happy. 

It takes a few days for you both to ease up around the other. The incident in the bathroom is never brought up again. You take him shopping for clothes after a few days. It feels wrong to keep giving him Wade’s hand-me-downs. You would have had your friend take him, but you don’t trust Wade’s sense of fashion at all. 

After that and getting lunch together while you were out shopping things got a little easier. You bought him a bed for the spare room because you felt guilty seeing him all cramped up on your tiny couch. 

You don’t initiate any physical contact with each other. The closest you’d gotten was your hands brushing when you both reached for some popcorn at the same time on movie night. But you hadn’t really minded that bad. 

Eventually, he starts to feel like a real roommate and a friend. He lets little pieces of himself slip out. Slowly opens up about his past. You haven’t made any existential discoveries of course. But he tells you stories of what his X-Men were like. 

You try not to dance around the topic of his wife, you don’t want him to think you’re avoiding asking about her. But you also don’t want him to think you’re obsessed with discussing her. 

He’s right, you two weren’t carbon copies of each other at all. You might share a few things in common but the more both you and Logan learn about each other, the more clear it is how different you both are from your variants. 

Sometimes you think he looks at you like he’s really seeing you, not her. But you can never be sure and you don’t want to put much strength behind the thought in case you’re wrong. You hate the idea that when you’re thinking of nothing but him, he’s just seeing her reflection on your face. 

There’s nothing you can do about it but it doesn’t stop the hurt. 

Tonight, at Wade’s suggestion, you’re both up on the roof waiting for a meteor shower that you’re ninety percent sure is never going to happen. You’re also one hundred percent sure that Wade just tricked you out of your apartment so he could have sex in it. He and Vanessa don’t really get a lot of time alone with Blind Al around. You’re already mentally preparing for the absolute fuck storm you’re going to have to clean up after.  

There’s a light nudge on your shoulder and you glance over at Logan. He’s got the whiskey bottle outstretched towards you and you take it from him with a smile. One thing about being his roommate, your alcohol tolerance has skyrocketed. His liver might regenerate, but you’re pretty sure if you keep going down this route yours will give out in a few months. 

“Think this is actually going to happen?” You ask, pointing up toward the clear night sky. 

Logan chuckles and shakes his head. He stretches out in your flimsy lawn chair and you try not to let your gaze be drawn to the sliver of skin peeking out from his shirt. “Probably not, but I don’t mind being out here.”

There’s an unspoken, with you, that makes you smile. You meet his gaze, his eyes soft as he watches you. “Me either.” You lean back in your chair, pulling your legs up onto the seat and huddling under your blanket. “It’s peaceful.”

You drink together in silence for a little while longer. Then you have to tap out, you don’t want your brain getting too foggy. Tonight is nice, you want to remember it tomorrow. To your surprise, he caps the bottle and places it to the side. You don’t mention it but you do feel like you’ve noticed he’s been drinking a little less. The dark circles under his eyes seem to be easing away ever so slightly. 

He looks over at you with an odd light in his eyes. You shift uncomfortably under his stare when it lasts a little longer than it usually does. You chuckle awkwardly, “Do I have something on my face?”

There’s a soft uptick to his lips as he shakes his head. “No,” he mutters, looking back out at the night. “You mind if I ask you something?”

Ominous, but whatever. “Sure.”

He still doesn’t look at you and you worry slightly about whatever it is he’s going to ask. He doesn’t ease you into it all, “Wade said your brain was broken?” A laugh springs out of your throat from how brusque that was. He rolls his eyes. “Fuckin’ idiot mentioned it in the void, been wonderin’ about it.”

“It’s fine,” you tell him. You’re relaxed enough that you don’t mind answering. You don’t want to pop the soft bubble you’ve managed to create around each other. “Here,” you hold your hand out for the whiskey bottle. He gives you an apprehensive look before handing it over. 

You unscrew the cap, “This,” you say and point your hand at the glass. The liquid inside lifts into the air and you freeze it before dropping it back into the bottle with a splash, a simple little party trick. “This used to be enough to put me in a coma for two days. That’s what he meant. Something happened to me and I just couldn’t do it anymore.”

Logan’s eyes widen and he shakes his head in disbelief. You laugh a little, “I assume your wife never had problems like that?”

There’s always a fond smile when you mention his wife. Whether the memory is bittersweet or not. “She wasn’t perfect, much as I thought so. When she used her powers too much she,” he trails off and looks down at the floor. You frown, ducking your head down so you can catch his gaze. 

“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” you promise quietly.

But he shakes his head and gives you a weak, tight-lipped smile. “No, I want to. And I don’t want you to think you’re the only Flux who struggled. When she used her powers too much she would deteriorate. Parts of her would just disappear, I don’t even know how to describe it. They were destroying her from the inside out.”

You let out a low whistle, eyes widening slightly. “Well, maybe I didn't get the short end of the stick after all.” It’s quiet and for a moment you worry your humor was ill-timed. 

But he lets out a rough laugh, “No, I guess not.” He takes in a deep breath before looking back up at you. There’s no distant sadness in his eyes like there usually is when you bring her up. It seems to only be a familiar ache now, rather than something fresh and bleeding. “But what happened to you? Why couldn’t you use your powers?”

“Oh,” you look down at your lap, picking at the strings of your pants. It would be unfair to have him talk about his wife and then wimp out when it was your turn. 

“Um, There was this mission. A bunch of kids, mutants, were being held in this warehouse. It was actually pretty normal, just go in, retrieve them, and bring them back to safety. I must have done a dozen of these before, but, I don’t know. Something was this different this time around.”

You can still hear them screaming. In your mind, you hear the way they cried for help. And you see the look on your faces when they realize you can’t save them every time you go to sleep. 

You suck in a sharp breath and almost jump when his hand lands on yours. It’s gentle, he’s barely even touching you and he’s not even acknowledging what he’s doing. But you take his hand in yours and squeeze, it’s nice, grounding. 

“Long story short, they were heavily guarded and I was pretty drained from fighting off the guards. My powers were practically gone by the time we could even get to the kids. And, I don’t know, something must have gotten knocked over or hit the wrong way because smoke was filling the place and everything was on fire. I couldn’t see anything, couldn’t breathe, and the kids were blocked off. There was nothing we could do to get to them. Everyone kept screaming at me, telling me to just use my abilities and get them out of there. I couldn’t,” your voice gets thick and you look anywhere but at him. “I,” your mouth hangs open and you don’t know what you could possibly say. 

There’s no excuse for what happened. “I just couldn’t,” you whisper. You sniffle and your eyes flutter rapidly, trying to stop any tears from coming. “Hadn’t been able to use my powers since then. Trauma block or something, I guess,” you dismiss yourself flippantly and shrug. 

Logan just squeezes your hand again. He doesn’t seem to know what to say to comfort you and you’re honestly grateful for the silence. You get so sick of people telling you there was nothing you could have done. Or that the others should have helped you. Because that’s not a fucking excuse. There’s no fixing what happened, no giving those parents their children back. You fucked up and you don’t appreciate people giving you cop-outs. 

You keep your gaze trained steadily on the ground, eyes going blurry while you try to slip into the back of your mind. You don’t get the chance, though. Logan is kneeling in front of you, hands slipping up your arms to cup your face. 

He forces you to look at him, to stay present in the moment with him. “You fucked up,” he tells you. It's so shocking that you can’t help but let out a loud wet laugh. You sniffle and he grins, wiping the tears out from under your eyes. His grip on your cheeks tightens and he makes sure you’re listening as he speaks, “You fucked up, kid. But that doesn’t mean you didn’t try your fucking hardest. And it doesn’t erase all the people you did help.”

Your eyes search him, trying to find any kernel of untruth. Trying to prove to yourself that this isn’t real. That he isn’t real. You don’t deserve this moment of such unwavering trust and faith. This is meant for someone else, for someone who deserves good things in life. 

You’ve never truly believed you deserved happiness or peace like this. But right now you don’t care because he is saying everything you’ve ever wanted to hear. And he actually means it. 

Your hand drifts up, covering his and tilting your head to press a gentle kiss to his palm. It’s tentative, a test, a way to give him an out if doesn’t want this. His grip on you tightens for half a second before he shoots forward and claims your lips with his own. 

It escalates quickly. You practically melt off your chair, straddling his lap while he leans back on the ground. Your hands tug at his hair while he moves desperately over your body. He can’t seem to decide what he wants to do, where he wants to touch you. 

You love how fully his hands engulf you, the tight way they cradle you to his chest. You’ve never felt more secure in someone’s arms than you do right now. He’s got you, and he wants you. For you this time, you can tell. You can tell from the way he holds you that this isn’t a desperation born from grief. It’s something else, something you’re not ready to identify yet. 

His tongue laves across the seam of your lips, silently asking permission. You smile against the kiss, parting your lips and deepening it. He licks into you, tasting you with a low grunt in the back of his throat. You feel your hips start to move of their own volition. Gently grinding down against his lap. You moan when you feel just how bad he wants you. 

You lean back, parting from the kiss and pressing a finger to his chest to keep from following. You chuckle at his eagerness, grinding your hips down again and watching the way he thrusts up to meet your movement. “Didn’t know I was such a good kisser,” you tease. 

But he doesn’t return the joke or play along. His face falls slightly and he pulls further away from you, the look on his face distant. “What?” You whisper. “Do I have bad breath?” You joke, trying to keep the mood light. 

He shakes his head and runs a tired hand over his face. “No,” he mutters. He repeats the word more firmly and finally meets your gaze. “I think I need to take this slow, just because of…”

He trails off but you know what he means. His wife. You don’t know if he’s still projecting her onto you, you felt so sure he wasn’t earlier. But if every time you kiss he’s gonna pull back you’re not sure that you can do this. “Of course,” you mutter with a bite to your voice. It’s hard not to feel a little rejected every time he acts like this. 

You move to get off his lap but his hands clamp down on your hips and he shakes his head again. “You don’t have to get up.”

You hesitate, thighs still hovering over his. You should get up and put as much space between you as possible. But he’s so warm and you want to be held for a little while more. You nod and he looks relieved. You lean back down, pressing your chest against his and letting your head rest in the crook of his neck. 

He wraps a heavy arm around your back, keeping you close while the other reaches up to stroke your hair. It makes you feel small, in a good way. Like you can just relax and he’ll take care of you. 

“Goddamn,” he laughs a little and you sit up. He nods to the sky above and you turn around, gasping. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, “he wasn’t lying.” For once, Wade was telling the truth. Above you, it looks like the sky is falling. Glittering stars dart across the sky, streaks of blue following behind them. You grin, “It’s so beautiful.”

Logan keeps his eyes on you and nods, “Yeah, it is.”

“Ah, look, my favorite fuck buddies.”

”Wade,” you greet tightly. You shove the bottle of wine you brought into his chest and he stumbles back. “Just let us in, you freak.”

He frowns, placing a hand over his heart. “You know, it really hurts when you talk like that. I think we all need to hold hands and have a good old-fashioned jerk circle.”

You roll your eyes and flick his thick forehead. “It’s share circle, dumbass.”

”Not the way I do it,” he moves to the side and lets you both in. “Well, mi casa es su casa, especially since Vanessa and I had rockin’ sex in your bed last week.”

He walks off before you can hit him or even begin to respond to that. “I fucking knew it,” you hiss, glaring at his stupid Hawaiian shirt while he mingles with the rest of the people at the party. 

Logan chuckles behind you, “How did you two ever become friends?”

You roll your eyes and turn to face him. “I moved in next door,” you respond dryly. “This was a nonconsensual friendship because god hates me, clearly.” You shrug your jacket off and he takes it from you, hanging it up on the hook by the door. He comes back, slinging an arm around your shoulder, and leading you towards the kitchen. 

You hear Wade laughing loudly in the background and he grunts, “I’m gonna need a drink for this,” he mutters. You nod your head in agreement. You don’t get very far, though, because without any warning Wade is in front of you. He’s got his ridiculous dog in his arms and shoves her in your face. You grimace and jump back. Logan abandons you and you narrow your eyes at his retreating back. Traitor

Wade says your name with disappointment. “You know, Mary Puppins is a part of my life now. As my best friend, you need to bond with her. I can’t have you two fighting like this.” He shoves the dog into your arms without any warning and you flinch away from her wandering tongue. 

“If this thing licks me, I’m putting her down,” you warn him gravely. 

He gasps and snatches her back. “You are no longer welcome in my home,” he tells you with a snotty huff. You roll your eyes and watch him go. When he’s out of sight your lips curl up in a grin and you glance at Logan. 

He’s by the sink, making himself a drink and taking a deep swig straight out of the bottle. You creep up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He smiles, hand coming down to gently hold your arm. “What’re you doing?”

”Come with me,” you whisper. You take his hand and lead him through the apartment. You both skirt around the partygoers, giving them vague greetings and waving them off when they give you odd looks. 

Logan leans down, lips brushing across your ear as he whispers, “Where are we going?” Your knees nearly give out when you hear that low tone of voice of his. You just shake your head and lead him down the hall. You can sniff out Wade’s room from the permeating stench of his axe body spray. 

You throw the door open and drag Logan inside behind you. His nose wrinkles up at the stiff socks littering the floor and the smell. Other than that, it’s relatively clean. You actually thought this would look so much worse. 

“Now,” Logan demands, “are you gonna tell me what we’re doing?”

“Well,” you lock the door and turn around with a devious grin. “Seeing as Wade has ruined my favorite sheets, I feel like we need to get him back somehow.” You glance around the room, trying to figure out something of his you want to destroy. 

You don’t hear Logan moving towards you. You’re too busy rooting through Wade’s desk and trying to find something good to shred up.  All you’re seeing is increasingly more disturbing porno mags. He has got a serious problem with pegging. You briefly wonder if you should set up an intervention or something for him. 

You nearly yelp when Logan’s hands grip your shoulders, whipping you around to face him. “I’ve got an idea of what we can do.” That’s your only warning before his lips cover your own. You melt into him immediately, hands fisting his shirt and dragging him closer. He grins against your lips, lifting you and placing you on the edge of Wade’s desk. 

“Mm,” you moan but shove his chest back and shake your head. “Wait,” you hop off the desk and take a seat on Wade’s bed instead. “There’s no point in this if we’re not on the bed.”

Logan shakes his head with an amused huff. He walks towards you but instead of taking a seat on the bed next to you like you'd expected, he kneels before you. Your brows furrow together and you frown. “Wait, what’re you doing?”

He gives you a gentle smile, hands coming up to rub gently over your thighs. The warmth of his palms soothes you almost immediately. “You trust me?” He asks, voice a low rumble against your chest. 

“Yeah,” you whisper. He nods encouragingly and leans forward, kissing you gently. There’s nothing expectant in this kiss. He’s doing it just to be close to you. Then you feel his hands drifting higher, fingers running over the buttons of your jeans. Your lips part, ready to ask him a question. But he just takes the chance to dip his tongue into your mouth, eagerly tasting you. You moan into it, not protesting when he presses you back into the bed. 

His fingers dip under the waistband of your jeans. You lift your hips to help him tug them the rest of the way down until they’re dropping to the floor quietly. You have a million questions dancing on the tip of your tongue but you can’t find it in yourself to actually voice any of them. You don’t want to break the moment. This is the first time he’s seemed comfortable going further than kissing and some heavy petting. 

“Fuck,” he whispers. Your hips jolt as he runs a thumb over the wet spot on your panties. “All this just from kissing?” He asks, a teasing lilt to his tone. You feel your face flush, cheeks warming when you realize he’s never actually seen just how much he affects you. “Relax,” he tells you, squeezing your thighs once before slipping a few lithe fingers under the band of your panties. 

He tugs them down, but the second he sets eyes on you he gets too impatient to take them off the rest of the way. They dangle off one ankle while he lifts your thighs, setting them on his shoulder and dipping down to press a gentle kiss against you. You gasp at the contact, head tilting back while you instinctually grind your hips up against him. 

It’s been a long time since you’ve actually been with anyone and you already know you’re going to cum embarrassingly quick because he fucking devours you. You’ve had boyfriends who liked to eat you out before, but this is something completely different. 

He drags his tongue over you, sucking on your clit like it’s his only true joy in life. You can’t even make noises, your jaw hanging slack while you cant your hips higher. He groans when you grind against his face, shaking his head and flicking his nose across your bud. You nearly come from the sight of him smiling against your cunt alone. You feel it building slowly, and it’s like your powers are swelling up along with your release. 

Wade’s knicknacks are floating off the shelves, some of them rotating in the air, others fluctuating between liquid and solid forms. You can’t control yourself, you’re barely aware of the chaos happening in the room around you. You just feel a warmth at the tips of your toes, swelling over your body, making your skin feel too tight. There’s little to no warning when you cum. He dips his tongue inside you and you let out a long moan, drenching his face. 

The sheets are soaking wet underneath you and you know you’ve ruined his shirt. You’ve never come that hard before and you would reflect on that more if he wasn’t still fucking eating you out. You think your brain is going to melt out of your ears, you're so overwhelmed by all the different sensations.

He dips his tongue into you, dragging out your orgasm and drinking as much of you down as he can. Your hips keep twitching, you’d be thrashing out of his hands if it wasn’t for the near brushing grip he has on your hips. “Fuck fuck fuck,” you reach down, grabbing his hair at the roots and tugging. He groans at the feeling, barely leaning an inch back. “No more,” you whisper, chest heaving. 

He smiles, palms smoothing across the skin of your thighs, “You okay?” 

“Mhm,” you hum weakly. Your head falls back against the bed with a dull thunk and you struggle to catch your breath. “Holy shit, where did you learn to do that?” He doesn’t answer, just laughs. You jump slightly when he presses a tender kiss on your thigh, every part of you oversensitive. 

He moves slowly up your body, hands dragging your shirt up until he’s pulling it over your head. He cups your cheeks, letting you recover while he kisses your cheeks and face. You laugh slightly at the feeling of his beard tickling you. 

You pull back, meeting his gaze for a long drawn-out moment before you lean forward to finally kiss him back. You can feel yourself slowly coming back into your body. Your limbs tingle back to life while you lazily make out with him. 

His hands drift down your chest, squeezing your breasts. You laugh against his lips, arching into his touch. You reach back, unclipping your bra and throwing it off somewhere in the room. In the far reaches of your mind, you make a mental note to take that when you go. You don’t want to think about what Wade would do with it if he found it. 

Logan pulls back from you and your lips tip down at the serious look he wears. Your fingers trace the lines of his face and you tilt your head in question. “What’s wrong?” You whisper. You’re completely naked before him and he’s still clothed, you don’t want him to leave now. 

He can’t keep doing this to you. He can’t keep forcing you into these vulnerable positions and then leaving. There’s only so much rejection you can take before you start to resent him for it. 

He tilts his head down, gaze dragging across your body appreciatively. He’s looking at you like you’re art and it makes you feel like you should be in a museum somewhere. Finally, his hand drags down from your chest, wrapping around your waist and dragging you onto his lap. 

You brace your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. He leans towards you, lips trailing lightly across your jaw. “You’re not her,” he whispers against your skin. Your mouth parts, a pained breath slipping through. You try to move back from him. You hadn’t expected something like that, not now, not when you thought you’d made so much progress together. 

To have you naked, vulnerable like this, and then say something like that to you. It was fucking despicable. You shove his shoulders back but he barely moves. You shift, trying to cover yourself and fighting off the urge to cry. Why won’t he let you go? Why does he keep doing this to you? 

He reaches out, snatching up your wrist before you can get far. “I don’t want you to be. I never wanted you to be her, I need you to know that.”

He tries to kiss you but you snatch his jaw in your hand before he can. You let your nails dig in until there’s red blooming under your fingertips. He hisses, but he’s not mad, you can feel how much he enjoys the little pinpricks of pain. 

“No more pulling away,” you warn. “I’m not playing this damn game with you anymore, Logan. You want me, then commit.” You release him with a shove and his pupils dilate with want. You appreciate the gentle way he’s been treating you, but you know you’re both holding back. 

He’s the first partner you’ve been with that can actually take what you give and vice versa. There’s something only mutants understand sometimes. You normally have to hold back, have to make sure you don’t scare a guy off by making the walls shake when you come. 

You push him down onto the bed. Hands sliding under the hem of his shirt and running over the grooves of his muscles. You haven’t had a chance to appreciate just how gorgeous his body is before, but nothing is holding you back now. 

You snap your fingers and the buttons rip open, he surges forward catching your lips with his while you both frantically push his shirt off. He throws it off to the side and his fingers fumble with his belt buckle while you trail kisses down his neck. You glance up at him for a second before biting down on a particularly sensitive spot. 

He groans, head rolling back while you grin against his skin. You make your way back to his lips. “Don’t hold back,” you tell him, trailing your hands down to his fists and running over the spots where the claws come out. 

“Sweetheart,” he starts tone apprehensive. You shake your head, shutting him up with a kiss. 

“Don’t. Hold. Back.”

It’s like a switch flipping. Even the way he looks at you changes. You’re not something to be cherished and adored. You feel like a deer pinned by a wolf. He’s got you in his clutches now and there’s a real possibility you might not survive this. 

He stands up, dropping you on the bed and dragging your hips off the edge. He doesn’t kick his jeans off, just lowers them enough for his cock to hang out. You’ll address the fact that he wasn’t wearing boxers later, you’re too worried about what’s hanging between his legs right now. 

You’re no virgin, but goddamn, there’s no way that’s going to fit. 

He laughs, the noise cruel and it makes shivers crawl down your spine. “We’ll make it work, kid.” He spreads your legs and you tilt your hips up, making it easier for him to just sip inside. 

There’s a slight stretch, but you’re already soaked for him. You’ve been waiting for this to happen since you walked in on him naked in your bathroom. “Oh, shit,” you toss your head back, taking in a deep breath while he pushes in. It feels like he’s rearranging your insides, molding you to fit him perfectly. 

You can already feel yourself clenching down, just being so close to him is enough to make that tingle in the tips of your toes start. He leans down, placing your legs over his elbows and rutting into you like a wild animal. There’s nothing gentle or slow about this. 

You’re both so pent-up, tired from the weeks of dancing around each other. Your nails drag up his back, blood following your movement. Your powers are actively surging against him, pain only driving you further into each other’s arms. 

You can hear his breathy grunts and groans in your ears and it’s music to you. Neither of you cares about the party going on just outside the door. You’re loud, skin slapping against skin while you loudly call out his name. 

God, you hope they hear you. Hope they realize just how thoroughly you’re wrecked for each other. You can feel yourself getting closer, hips stuttering against his while you struggle to match his pace. “Come on,” he mutters in your ear. He releases one of your legs to reach down and rub your clit. 

“Fuck,” you groan, reaching up and tugging at his hair while your back bows. It only takes a few more tight circles of his thumb before you’re spasming around him. He’s quick to follow behind you. 

He pins your hips to the bed, dropping your legs while he thrusts faster. He loses his rhythm, the muscles of his abdomen flexing as he cums inside you. It’s like a mini death, you feel like you’ve lost time when you finally manage to come back to yourself. 

And when you roll your head to the side you realize just how much damage you’ve done to Wade’s bed. “Shit,” You glance up at the sound of his voice and notice little droplets of blood on your hips. Logan’s claws are out, stuck in the fluff of the bed. 

You force the words out, tongue heavy in your mouth. “Do that often?”

“Not really,” he mutters. The claws retreat and he rubs his fingers over the blood. It’s not bad, you’ve honestly done worse to yourself. It’s like a big paper cut. When the rough pad of his fingers presses against the cut you hiss at the sting, nearly enjoying it. 

“Must be special,” you tell him with a cheeky grin. He shakes his head with a laugh and takes his time pulling out. You hate the loss of him inside you but it's a slight relief. He's larger than any partner you’ve ever had and it’s almost overwhelming to be so full. 

“Come on, let's get you dressed.” He pats your thighs, glancing around for your clothes. 

“Uh, Logan,” he looks up and you glance at his still very hard cock. “I thought you came?”

The smile he gives you is slightly terrifying. Because there’s a promise in it. He’s not getting you dressed for no reason. He’s taking you back to your apartment so you can have more fun where there are less people and fewer reminders of Wade. “Stamina's part of the deal, sweetheart.”

“Oh,” you whisper, voice breathless in shock. You wipe the cum off your legs with Wade’s sheets. You feel like you’ve thoroughly gotten revenge on him for destroying your favorite bed set. Maybe, you’ve gone a little farther than revenge, though. 

You feel guilty, looking around the room and seeing everything you destroyed. Once you’re dressed, you wave your hand, putting most things back where they belong. But there’s nothing you can do about the bed. The sheets are soaked with a mixture of yours and Logan’s releases and there are six holes dug deep in the bed from his claws. 

When you step out of the room with Logan, struggling to press down your hair and get it back into place, Blind Al is waiting by the door. She’s doing a line off the back of her hand when you pass by. You think you’ve almost made it scott-free when she yells, “Man, I wish I couldn’t fucking hear,” at you. 

You tense up, shoulders to your ears while you run to the door. Logan laughs, grabbing your coat for you and pressing a hand to your back while he leads you to the apartment. “Weren’t feeling so embarrassed earlier,” he teases. 

“Shut up,” you grumble, dragging him into the apartment to finish what you couldn’t on Wade’s bed. 

You’ve managed to keep any holes out of your bed, you just have to use your powers to keep his at bay. It’s nice, not having to explain why everything around you is levitating to the person you’re having sex with. There were a lot of awkward conversations that came from that. 

You’re lying on Logan’s chest, fingers idly running over the veins in his biceps. “I want to be serious about this,” you tell him. 

His hand pauses from where it’d been stroking your back. You sit up on your elbow so you can get a better look at him. “I mean it, I,” there’s no way to say this without sounding like a complete bitch. You just have to rip the bandaid off. 

You take in a deep breath, “I know that you still miss her,” you say, unwilling to say her name. Logan sits up, looking more serious now. “But I don’t want to be with you if you think that I’m going to turn into her. Or if you think that I’m the last connection you have to her. I’m not her, Logan, and I'm never going to be her.”

You expect anger on his face or regret, maybe. But you don’t expect him to laugh at you. You roll your eyes, lips pursed while you wait for him to finish. He notices the pissy expression on your face and quiets down, but you still see a smile fighting on his lips. 

“I know you’re not her. You could not be more different” he tells you with a slight smirk, like there’s an inside joke you’re missing out on. “I was married to her for a long time and I loved her. But we had our time together. Now, I just want my time with you. You’re not her,” he leans forward, pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead. “That’s why I want you.”

You feel your heart flutter in your chest and have to fight to keep a stupid grin off your face. “Okay,” you whisper. “Good, well as long as we’re on the same page,” you tell him, faux serious. He just rolls his eyes and pulls you back into his arms. 

You’re going to cuddle up beside him when you hear your phone going off like crazy on your nightstand. Your face pinches in confusion and you reach over to grab it. 

Wade

Did you fuckers have sex???

In my bed!!!!

And you didn’t invite me?!

….

Wade

Tell Logan I want his claws in me next

“Fuckin’ dumbass,” you mutter, throwing your phone somewhere on the bed. Logan laughs again, drawing you closer. 

a/n: i have a really weird tendency for masochism, idk what that’s about. I just feel like if you were having sex with this man, he’s taking you like a wild animal. also feel like I might be a one-hit wonder. the smut just wasn’t doing it for me this time guys nor was the angst, i’m disappointed in myself

I just don't think I did justice to his character in the movie, I might have made it too OOC/ if I did PLEASE let me know

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

General Taglist: @evasmlp

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus ♡

[thewispsings]

personal photographer | daniel ricciardo

pairing: daniel ricciardo x photographer!reader

summary: the one where daniel ricciardo is dating his personal photographer.

liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1, landonorris, and 527,153 others!

yourusername: my favorite daniel is a smiling one :D

view comments below!

user1: he looks so good

user2: y/n always makes sure she gets the BEST angles of daniel

user3: he is her bf 😭 can’t post photos of him off guard

maxverstappen1: gorgeous

yourusername: 🤨

danielricciardo: don’t be jealous baby (max we talked about this…)

maxverstappen1: i can’t help it, you look so good 🤤

yourusername: that’s MY boyfriend you’re talking about

maxverstappen1: until i make him mine ☺️

user4: #freeynfrommaxverstappen

landonorris: when can y/n come to my garage and take pictures for me?

danielricciardo: um never?

yourusername; don’t be rude daniel 🤨 just text me lando! we’ll figure something out

danielricciardo: um no you won’t. youre MY photographer, not LANDOS.

landonorris: i just want some pictures mate 😕

danielricciardo: WELL GET THEM SOMEWHERE ELSE

user5: jesus daniel it’s okay yns all yours…

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc, and 725,018 others!

daniel3.jpg: the photographer gets photographed

view comments below!

user6: does anyone know what camera y/n uses professionally?? if you do pls let me know 🙏🙏

daniel3.jpg: she uses a canon EOS C70 cinema camera!

user7: that is…a 7 THOUSAND dollar camera.

user8: what the fuck

user9: sometimes i forgot that she’s like rich??

user10: i think that’s the camera daniel bought her as a birthday present, she used to use a Canon EOS Rebel T3i DSLR Camera!! that one’s more on the affordable side, and it lasted her yearrrsss

landonorris: oh but when i take photos of her it’s weird???

daniel3.jpg: YES!! she’s MY girlfriend

landonorris: I TAKE THEM SO I CAN SEND THEM TO YOUUUUUU

user11: y/n is so pretty 🤭🤭

daniel3.jpg: correct!!

user12: she’s so gorgeous

daniel3.jpg: 1000000% agree

user13: the easiest way to get a reply from daniel is to compliment y/n

maxverstappen1: why don’t you post me like this? 😕

daniel3.jpg: we’ve talked about this, you know y/n gets jealous

yourusername: WOW OKAY YOU SICK LIAR 🧍

user: i wonder how many pictures daniel has of y/n like this…

landonorris: LITERALLY thousands.

liked by danielricciardo, daniel3.jpg, maxverstappen1, and 410,017 others!

yourusername; he’s trying to take my job 😡

view comments below!

user14: he could NEVER do it like you tho

user15: y/n we know it’s like your literal job to take pictures of daniel, but pls pls pls the world wants more pictures of YOU

user16: uh pls tell me if the tattoo is on his butt cheek

landonorris: i know where it is 🤫🤫

user16: is it on his butt cheek???

user16: lando pls

user16: is it on the downstairs cheeks

user16: pls lando

user16: LANDO PLEASE

maxverstappen1: you get a tattoo for HER? but not for me. did you ever love me??

danielricciardo: baby please, you know you’re the only one for me

yourusername: he says as he places a kiss on my head AS we cuddle

maxverstappen1: YOURE A SICK MONSTER YN SICK SICK MONSTER.

user17: i’m so jealous of y/n

user18: you and me both sister

user19: i’m actually going insane I NEED TO KNOW WHERE THAT TATTOO IS

user20: man that chicken wing looks nice

user21: where exactly does one apply to take pictures of f1 drivers all day??

user22: wait..were y/n and daniel dating BEFORE she was hired or??

user23: they met on the job!! it was a straight out of wattpad moment

user24: you guys are the cutest ever

maxverstappen1: me and him are cuter.

user25: i’m starting to think it was never a joke..

. . .

notes; i’m thinking of making this like a series?? like f1 drivers dating their __ and it’ll be like, personal trainer, engineer, stylist, and things like that! thank you for reading ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

[racew1nn3rs]

─ 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘪𝘪. (𝘯𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳) ⛵️

⤷ summary: miami and monaco. just lando being horribly down bad and y/n being at her wits end. poor oscar just can't escape the train wreck that is two losers with feelings and zero (0) emotional competency .

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liked by landonorris, ynusername, and 45,790 others

tagged oscarpiastri and landonorris

mclaren sorry to report that the only good thing about miami was the weather! (and the celebrities)

17,492 comments

user1 it's okay admin, you can say the car was shit

mclaren yeah the car was shit

user2 mclaren team is cursed i fear

mclaren alr where my witch baddies at? please unhex us pls pls pls

user3 uhm!!!????

mclaren desperate times desperate measures and all that jazz

user4 normal people: oh no the car is bad. yn: we're cursed for generations to come ☹️

landonorris i didn't get to meet shakira, what's the point of going on living

mclaren there is none! kys

landonorris oh wow

user5 nahhhh she gettin fired 💀

user6 not a single photo with lando's face 😭

user7 boohoo ☺️ OSCAR FANS, THEY BROKE BUT WE UP ‼️‼️‼️

user6 ok enough

landonorris post me challenge (difficult)

mclaren uh no (: go talk to hr bro we do not careeeeeee

user8 this beef is crazy, yall havent made up yet

user9 DOES ANYONE EVEN KNOW WHY THEYRE BEEFING 😭

oscarpiastri yeah

mclaren hey oscar! great race

oscarpiastri don't ever lie to my face like that again

maxfewtrell gonna build the car myself at this point

user10 i see a podium in our future everyone say thank you max

user11 y/n livestream when 😔

ynusername (;

user11 WHAT DOES THIS MEAN

user12 lando and admin flirting again, who could've guessed

user13 ... she told him to kill himself

user14 the enemies to lovers is enemying 🤩

user13 yeah, it's giving enemies to lovers but no lovers only murder

mclaren truth.

user12 ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HWRE

user15 mclaren, fire everyone and hire y/n as the engineer/ strategist/ driver/ pit crew/ pr

mclaren we winning 🥱

oscarpiastri you'd be the only one finishing cause everyone else would die ☝🏻

mclaren shut the fuck up oscar 🙄

user16 flying cars they said 😔

mclaren how the mighty have fallen

user17 WE THE BEST TEAM ON THE GRIDDDD YUHHH

mclaren i'm gonna hold your hand while i say this

user18 it's been 20 years since i've seen my husband 😞 (admin won't post pictures of lando anymore)

mclaren your husband is ugly as fuck

landonorris what the fuck!

mclaren get off your phone loser

user19 full oscar picture when (i'mbeg ging you please i needg it nowe)

mclaren BAD DOG DOWN OMFG

lilyzneimer i would argue you were the best part of miami

mclaren YOU ARE SO FINE YOU SHUT YOUR MOUTH BEAUTIFUL GIRL 🤭

oscarpiastri GET AWAY FROM HER YOU FREAK 🤺

user20 y/n being unprofessional on the team page, who's shocked

mclaren and the world kept spinning

user21 we all know who was really shit here (looking at you lando)

mclaren it's not funny when you do it.

landonorris when she defends you 🥴

mclaren i'm telling a trusted adult danielricciardo

danielricciardo what the fuck makes you think i can be trusted

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would you like to join? yes or no

now loading...

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The image flickered onto the screen as the broadcast began. Lando, clothed comfortably in sweats, a cap, and his streaming headphones, looked briefly off camera to where his guests sat waiting to be introduced.

He glanced up at Streamlabs and was shocked to see he had upwards of 30,000 viewers. He had only just started the stream and many people had likely not even gotten the Twitch notification yet. He shook off his shock and plastered on his usual smirk.

Everything is fine. I am totally and completely fine.

"Welcome, welcome. How are you all doing today? There's a lot of people here already. What's the special occasion guys?" He joked, being met with a scoff from the girl to his left.

Everything is not fine at all.

Lando almost never felt nervous when he would stream. After all, he was just playing game with his friends, the chat comments streaming through at a speed he could barely read. Even then, being in Formula One for so long meant he was used to being watched, his every little move being observed nearly constantly since his debut in 2019.

And yet all it took was her presence and suddenly he was nervous. His palms were sweaty, his heart was beating at a mile a minute- honestly you would think he were racing. How could he be expected to be funny and charming when she was here. She never seemed to struggle much in the department. It was almost entirely natural for her. Being perfect was like breathing air to Y/n he suspected.

As he watched the chat messages stream past even quicker on his monitor, he finally caught Oscar's gaze out of the corner of his eye. The younger man quirked a brow at him. What's your problem? His teammate seemed to say. He ignored him. Stupid Oscar and his stupid opinions and his stupid, uncomplicated love life. Lando envied the Australian most days, but now he just wanted to punch him straight in the jaw.

"Alright, it seems like most people are here already, so I'll just get started. I'm sure you're all wondering who my special guests are. The suspense must be killing you surely," He teased his audience. He ignored the completely accurate guesses in his chat.

Was he so predictable that it could be assumed it was either his teammate, Y/n, or Max were his special guests? Or was this a more unfortunate warning sign that he was just plain old boring.

"Seems like most people in chat were smart enough to figure it out! Please give a warm welcome to my guests! The lovely, stunning, awe-inspiring Y/n!" He cheered as the girl groaned, rolling her chair forward so she was behind him and within the frame of the camera.

"Oh and also Oscar's here," Lando added boredly, voice almost entirely monotone. Oscar scoffed loudly and he shot into frame kicking Lando's chair roughly, almost knocking him over and startling a laugh out of the girl behind them.

"Your an asshole mate," Oscar scoffed. Lando didn't hear him. The melodic laughing in his ear from Y/n was quite frankly the only sound his brain could process.

Who knew a laugh could sound so beautiful.

Who knew I could be so god damn embarrassing, Lando thought miserably.

"Guys do you see what I have to put up with!? How I get any shit done around here is a wonder," Y/n scoffed, "Anyways, welcome everybody, this is my stream now." Lando squawked indignantly.

"Excuse you, your in my home!"

"Yeah, unfortunately," she muttered with an eye roll and Oscar laughed.

"You should be grateful! Although these aren't the circumstances I was hoping to have you here under for the first time," Lando said with a completely unsubtle wink.

Y/n grimaced and Oscar doubled over with the force of his laughter.

"Viewers I am so sorry, please leave now, I have no way to muzzle him and apparently I can't sensor him," Y/n scowled.

"I fear he might enjoy that," Oscar muttered with a shake of his head.

Oh you motherfucker, Lando thought. Talk about subtle.

"If it was you, I probably would," Lando said to the girl and she planted her palm into the center of his face and shoved him lightly.

"Oh gross, cooties or STDs or whatever it is you men carry," Y/n shook her hands off and fake gagged.

"EXCUSE ME!" Lando shouted as Oscar nearly fell out of his chair.

"You're excused!"

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Y/n was holding on to her sanity by a thread. Or whatever was smaller than a thread... a hair or something. They had been answering fan questions for nearly 15 minutes already and Lando had decided today would be the day he would do nothing but flirt with her incessantly. He was like a child with a question or dog with a bone; He wouldn't let it the fuck go.

The sound of text-to-speech beginning dragged Y/n out of her thought spiral.

"Lando, what is your favorite video you've ever filmed?" The question asked.

Oh brother, Y/n thought. She looked at Oscar and he only laughed. How helpful.

"Probably the water TikTok challenge," Oscar hummed in agreeance.

"Why?" Y/n asked in confusion. She realized belatedly that asking Lando anything right now was probably a bad idea. She had set herself up this time.

"I don't know, I'm just a personal fan of anything that involves your hands in my hair," He smirked and she rolled her eyes. Her stomach flipped as she looked at his eyes. How could such a stupid, stupid man have such nice eyes (and lips, and teeth, and-).

"Well that's interesting," She smirked back, leaning her body toward him, ignoring the way she was blushing down to her chest. Her ears felt hot. It was hard to focus when she felt like she was burning alive, an unfortunate side effect that seemed to come with the irritating Brit in front of her.

"That was my favorite too," she added and Lando's eyes widened. Oscar looked at her in confusion over Lando's head.

"Really?" Lando asked, suprise clear in his voice. His smirk fell away for only a moment, but it was long enough for Y/n to notice.

Poor little Lando Norris, she thought. A bit too easy to read, this one.

"Yep," she grinned, before letting her face fall. "I'm a big fan of anything that means I can drown you." She responded in a monotone voice. Oscar cackled. The poor guy had hardly been asked any questions. Y/n found she didn't feel too bad anyway. The asshole was enjoying her suffering far too much.

Y/n knew the chat was going wild at their interactions, but she didn't really find herself caring. Maybe this was a bad look from a PR stand point, but then again didn't they always say "any press is good press."

Y/n wondered if the idiots who said that had ever had an inappropriate attraction to their asshole of a coworker, who just so happened to be public figure with fans who were becoming more aware of the tension with every day that interacted.

Probably fucking not.

Y/n watched as Lando's faux upset face cracked into a smile as he began to laugh heartily. She couldn't help but smile. Y/n was finding it hard to hold onto whatever grudge she had before. Maybe Lando Norris and his perfect smile, and his stupid jokes and his charming attitude weren't all that bad. Maybe, just maybe.

But they had absolutely no affect on her. None at all.

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liked by maxfewtrell, oscarpiastri, and 38,924 others

tagged landonorris

ynusername monaco post-gp (help me this guy is stalking me i can't get rid of him help hel

11,209 comments

user22 damn he took out my girl mid-sentence 😔

user23 Y/N POSTED LANDO?? AM I DREAMING?? AM I HAVING A STROKE??? OH GOD AM I DEAD

user24 girl calm the fuck down

user25 DOES THIS MEAN THE BEEF IS OVER

ynusername yes! (he has a gun to my head)

user26 LANY/N SHIPPERS WE RISE ONCE MORE

user27 get it together, they've posted together ONCE

user28 is lany/n in the room with us

user29 "lando and y/n getting along isn't real, it can't hurt you!" OH REALLY

landonorris i had other plans but i cancelled them to be your tour guide, you're welcome

ynusername me when i fucking lie

oscarpiastri do my eyes decieve me

ynusername shut up oscar

landonorris yeah shut up oscar

user30 couples that fight their friend together, stay together

ynusername i can and will block you 😃

user30 oh.

oscarpiastri no it's fine i didn't want to be invited

oscarpiastri i totally hate the ocean, it's not like i surf or anything

oscarpiastri looks boring, would've hated to go on a boat

landonorris other than the fact that i lost my flip flop in the ocean, it was fun i guess

user31 good job lando this came off exactly as nonchalant as you hoped king

ynusername HAHA LOSER YOU LOST YOUR SHOE

oscarpiastri I LOST SOMETHING ONCE 😞

user32 close enough, welcome back brocedes

ynusername literally what is the correlation here

user32 idk leave me alone

user33 um so this is actually insane

user34 i screamed so loud my neighbors called the cops because they thought i was being murdered

user35 can you be normal

user36 this might be the first original experience

user35 no, not original, just embarrassing

user37 i want to be excited about this but it feels so sinister

ynusername good, it should be

maxfewtrell never in my 23 years of living could i have expected this (lando messaged me to tell me what he was doing today)

user38 posting a comment is optional

maxfewtrell i have fomo, can i live

user39 lany/n shippers all around the world cheered

user40 oh you different friend!

user41 onto something ❌ on something ✅

user42 and the crowd is... the crowd is leaving??

user43 my crew lets go

user44 "war is over" we all say in unison

oscarpiastri not likely 💀

user23 HELLO OMFHADFSLJ

danielricciardo oh so you can hang out with him in monaco but not with me

ynusername sorry babygirl 😔 i didn't mean to abandon you

danielricciardo ew never fucking mind

maxverstappen1 i live in monaco too! hope this helps

ynusername i knew that already! hope this helps

maxverstappen1 oh.

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ynusername posted to story!

(caption: he won't leave me alone, this is sick)

17,822 replies

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landonorris posted to story!

(caption: she's trying to convince me it's cold out... girl no it is not)

24,006 replies

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I AM SOOOOO SORRY THIS TOOK 5 MILLION YEARS TO BE UPDATED!! i am hoping to be more consistent moving forward, but my schedule is a bit of a mess with school. hopefully i'll be able to get some requests fulfilled soon as well though!

most importantly, thank you so much for all the love and support on this fic!! the amount of comments, asks, and dms asking about updates was staggering and it makes me so happy that you all like to so much (: receiving such positive feedback for this fic has honestly rejuvenated my love for writing so much, and i can't express how much the support means to me.

please keep leaving comments and dms with your thoughts, i love reading them <3 hope u enjoyed!

-

𝙩𝙖𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

@lemon-lav @slutforpopculture @m4rt10ne @urfavsgf @sadsierra2 @96jnie @sltwins @poppyflower-22 @alliumiae @livelovesports @liberty-barnes @the-holy-trinity-l @iliwyss @awritingtree @redpool @elliotts1one @velentine @chaoticmessneutralplease @5sospenguinqueen @charizznorizz @2pagenumb @mxdi0 @cwiphswmwasohmm @tremendousstarlighttragedy @lnspipedrm @itseightbeats @tinycoffeeroom @woozarts @personwhoisther @a-beaverhausen @love-simon @annabellelee @ravisinghs-wife @chezmardybum @greantii @weekendlusting @monserelates @sapphiccloud @halleest @deamus-liv @gigigreens @morenofilm @laneyspaulding19 @lanireadss @dear-fifi @moldyshorts1997 @oliviarodrigostan13 @eugene-emt-roe @ilivbullyingjeongin @im-a-ghost666

[loganlermanstanaccount]

Show me where it hurts (part 1)

Miguel O'Hara x spiderwoman!reader

(AO3 Mirror), Part 2, Main Masterlist

summary: Miguel's acting weird, and you make it your mission to find out exactly what's going on.

warnings: no warnings for this chap, pg-13, swearing and canon level violence. smut next chapter xoxo

a/n: this is a combination of 2 asks and this post I saw on here a while ago: flirty/ snarky fem reader, Miguel during a ""rut"" (I don't know if it counts as a rut really, but its to do with his animal instincts/DNA) and Lyla playing matchmaker.  I had so much fun writing this, enjoy :D

(i wrote this pre seeing spiderverse 2, so i think characterisation is a little off, esp for Lyla, apologies! I'll fix it in my upcoming fics)

edit: I use the term "bichita" which I have been informed can be read not as I intended in Spanish. I'm not a native speaker so I want to apologise in advance. I'm doing more research for my future fics and leaving this up as a testament to my stupidity. Spanish speakers, feel free to correct me / clown my ass in the comments. My bad guys :(

wc: 3.6k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You think Miguel is avoiding you. 

One of your closest friends, giving you the runaround for months, it seems. Calling the two of you close friends is a little extreme, sure. You've only known O'Hara for two years, and been in love with him for slightly less than that, thank you very much. And yes, he refuses to call you by anything but your last name. And the last time you saw him he wouldn't so much as look at you, but that was besides the point. 

"..the point," You tell Lyla, in between exasperated bites of cereal, "... is that aren't elite forces of spiderpeople supposed to, you know, have some spiderpeople kick ass once in a while? And where exactly is our fearless leader? I haven't seen O'Hara's scary ass in weeks, and I'm starting to miss it."

She gives you a look, one that says this isn't what I'm programmed for , but you pointedly ignore it. 

"His ass, by the way." You clarify. "I very specifically miss his ass. Remind me to get his routine. I know girls that would kill for…"

"How the fuck did you get in here?" A voice croaks. You turn behind you and see Miguel, not in his suit, but wrapped up in a blanket like he's just woken up. And he looks rough, like a train ran him over on the way here: puffy eyes, splotchy skin, tension kneaded into his brow. 

"Wow." Your spoon drops into the milk. "You look like shit.." 

He furrows his brow even deeper, if that was possible. " Mierda. You shouldn't be here." 

"This isn't quite the welcome party I was expecting, man. I'm the only one to actually turn up to one of your meetings, and this is what I get?" 

"I thought I told Lyla to cancel," He mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"Cancel? Since when do you miss a chance to talk about rules and protocol?" 

"I don't have time for this-" 

"-and I'm not leaving without a proper explanation. Is everything okay?" 

"It's actually way worse now you're here." He deadpans. 

"Haha ." You turn to Lyla. "You drop everything to travel halfway across the multiverse and this asshole won't even say thanks." 

"Thanks, but this asshole needs you to leave. Now." 

This is the most he's spoken to you in forever, and you hate that you like it. You just want his attention, however it comes. If that means dragging this out so maybe he acknowledges you, touches you, looks at you - then so be it. Squinting, you get closer to him. You scan his face for anything to latch onto. You put a hand on his shoulder, still searching. 

"You sure you're alright? You know you can tell me if-" 

"Si, si." He grits his teeth, looking away. "M'just fine. I'll explain…. later."

"...because I'm your right hand man?" You grin, poking at his brow. "Stop frowning so much Miguel, you're gonna ruin that pretty face of yours."

He flushes, nervous, and swats you away. "-what? N-No. You're not my right hand man and I like my face just the way it is. Now, leave. "

Making your way to the door, you tap your nose teasingly. "You know where to find me!" 

When the door closes with a click, you make your way down the corridor, and stop in your tracks when you hear it. It's muffled, but with the strain of your supersenses you can make out Miguel's voice just beyond the wall. 

"I just…. don't want her to see me like this… Lyla, it's not happening… I can't tell her…." Tell her what, exactly? 

Resolutely, you make up your mind. Miguel O'Hara's got a secret. And before you leave for home, you're gonna do everything in your God given power to wear him down and find out. 

~~~

Despite his insistence otherwise, you liked to think of yourself as O'Hara's right hand man - and most of the other spiderpeople thought so too. You were one of the very first he recruited, after crash landing onto your earth like a spiderman-shaped meteor; the two of you were inseparable. Miguel was stubborn and headstrong and thought he was right all the time. Infuriatingly, he was, but that didn't stop you from telling him to get his head out of his own ass when his ego grew too big. 

He was different around you, you think. Softer, sometimes. Harsher, other times. He told you what you needed to hear whether you wanted to or not; the result of mutual respect and agonising persistence. Slowly, you had chipped away his hard exterior; the one he built because he thought he needed to push people away. In that regard, you were similar, but this need manifested in you like a weed - an awful, awful compulsion to joke and laugh at your own expense, to keep others at an arm's length. You had spent your whole life picking and pruning away at yourself, looking for perfection. Even after all this, multiverse-hopping and fighting alongside people who were the closest things you had to friends , it wasn't enough. There was still something missing. 

Ironically, Miguel had told you something similar the one of the last times you had spoken. You had fucked up a mission, well and truly. In the aftermath, all you can remember is coming back to base, limping on Jessica's arm. 

"She's hurt!" She cries out. Lyla materialises and leads you both to the med bay, inspecting any visible wounds. There's a deep laceration, sticky with blood, at the base of your stomach. You shift onto the bed and hiss with pain. 

Miguel is quick to follow, face twisted with confusion, pain, sadness. Even in your haze, you feel the tension radiating off of him as he drags over a cart of supplies. 

"What happened?" He strains. 

"I don't even… it happened so fast. We got ambushed, and all of a sudden I'm on the ground. I wasn't thinking straight and… " She sobs. "...she jumped in front of me. God, she saved my life-" 

"-wasn't your fault, Jess." You croak, trying to sit up. "And I'm fine. Just need to walk it off…"

"Sit, bichita," His nickname makes you frown, despite yourself, and you settle back down. "Lyla, what's the damage?"

Your vision goes spotty, and Lyla's voice barely registers. All you can feel is searing pain in your side, but Miguel is warm, oh so warm. You clutch his arms, and force him to look you in the eye. 

"M'ready, Miguel." He nods weakly, but you don't think he understands. "I mean it . I can lead, j-just need another chance and I won't let you down… Jess, tell him that I can-" 

"It's okay. I believe you. You just need to relax for me, hmm?" He clutches at your hand, tight, and it's like you're the only two people in the world. "You did good. I promise."

Faintly, you nod. You feel a pinch at your arm, and Jessica's there, with an empty vial of something in her hands. The pain washes over you, and you fight to keep your eyes open. In those last few moments of light, you swear you feel a shaky kiss pressed to your temple. 

"Sleep, mi bichito amoroso. Sleep."

When you come to, you're still in the medbay, moonlight streaming through. Well, artificial moonlight. Time worked a little differently here, something Miguel explained to you a while ago - God knows what about dilation and quantum interference. It makes you smile now, remembering his frustration as he tried to explain to no avail. You were the only spiderman this side of the multiverse without a degree in quantum tech, you had said with a lopsided smile. 

You move to sit, and pain shoots up your side. Groaning, you push through it, determined to get out of this bed and find the others. As if on cue, Miguel walks in, almost leaping towards you. 

"You should… mierda ! You should be resting in bed."

You pout as you stumble into his chest. He hooks an arm around you and leads you back. You clamber in, sighing. "M'fine, O'Hara."

"Your guts were halfway out of your body less than 24 hours ago. So stay put, or you might give me another heart attack."

You scoff, incredulous. "You were worried?" 

He shrugs. " 'Course I was."

"Why? You know I'm practically indestructible." You give him a shit eating grin, and poke the frown appearing at his brow. He doesn't bat you away like he usually does. 

"Famous last words, bichita." He sighs. You can't speak a lick of Spanish, but you know he only calls you that word when you've frustrated him to his limit. So you take it as a win, for now. 

He drops into the chair next to you. "How are you feeling?" 

"Just peachy, dollface." You wink, and he doesn't so much as groan. 

"I'm being serious. You went through something pretty traumatic…"

"You want me to tell you it hurts, so, so bad, daddy? " You pout and flutter your eyelashes mockingly. Miguel shifts in his seat, unable to make eye contact. 

"That's not what I meant."

"What did you mean, O'Hara? I feel fine. And in a couple of days, I'll feel even better, and I'll be up and about. I can finish what we started and-" 

"-no, absolutely not." He frowns. "A couple of days? I'm sending you home-" 

"You can't do that! On whose fucking authority?"

"On the authority of you almost fucking died ! Keeping you safe is our priority right now-" 

"God, is this my punishment? This is a low blow, O'Hara. You know how hard I've worked for this: months of surveillance and intel a-and I did everything by the book, just like you told me to." You croak. "I fucked up . I know that, and I feel terrible. Give me a chance to make things right; that's all I'm asking. I can do it, I know it. "

He looks at you for a moment, something heavy in his expression. His face contorted, he strips you down to the bone with just his gaze. His voice is so quiet, you almost miss it. 

"....you're still trying to prove yourself, aren't you?"

Honestly, it catches you off guard. You don't even know what the fuck that means, let alone why he said it.

"I don't… I d-don't…?" 

"They all love you. Respect you. More than me I think, sometimes." He chuckles at that. "You're good at what you do. The best . What else are you trying to prove? What else do you need ?" 

Your throat goes dry. You couldn't speak if you wanted to. 

"I'm not punishing you. You made a mistake, but you don't need to be crucified for it. I just want to keep you safe. I can't… we can't lose you."

"Miguel-"

"-this isn't a discussion. And I'm not trying to argue, although I know how much you like to argue." He inches closer, cupping your face gently. You try to move away, blinking back tears. But his hands are steady and he strokes your jaw with so much tenderness you think you hear your heart break. He's pretty, so pretty. You don't deserve him, you think. "There'll be time to fight, bichita. Rest. That's your mission right now."

"C-can't sleep." You breathe. "It hurts." 

Miguel pauses, head tilted like he's thinking. He taps your shoulder. "Scoot over."

You do as he says, and he slips into the bed with you. It's a tight fit, but he manages, placing you on his chest with an arm gently around your shoulders. You bury your face in his hoodie, sniffling and hoping he doesn't notice you choking back sobs. Absentmindedly, he settles into a rhythm, gentle breathing and playing with your hair, soothing you softly. He pretends he can't hear the tears. 

"M'gonna stay here until you're asleep. For as long as you need."

You nod, unable to speak for fear of breaking down. 

~~~

The days after felt like a blur. You woke up to Miguel gone, and an ache in your heart. Jess visits as much as she can, and Ben calls you a couple times, to see if you're okay. Peter B brings Mayday, and she clambers all over your bed, bringing some life into the room. Miguel doesn't visit per se - you hear whispers of him, Lyla visiting in his stead for comprehensive status updates. Once, you wake up in the night to see him on the adjacent chair, head lolling in deep sleep. He looks peaceful, calm - one of the first times you haven't seen his brow furrowed with worry. Of course, he's gone by the morning. 

The very last time you saw him, he opened the portal home. It was weird, after everything, but if Miguel felt the same you wouldn't know. Talking at a thousand miles a minute, he alternates between assuring you they'll be fine without you and situation reports from spider people all across the multiverse. Things you'd missed whilst bedbound, asking for advice before you left. He trusted your judgement and the thought warmed your heart, almost making you forget that he completely brushed past the previous nights before. 

You still remember the last thing he had said to you, which would've been weeks ago, now. 

"...and if you need anything, and I mean anything, you call me directly. Not Jess, not Ben, and certainly not Peter B. Call me, and I'll answer, I promise. You need help, you need advice, you just need someone to talk to, then-"

"-I call you. I get it, O'Hara. Will do." He opens the portal, watching as you walk towards it. He can't take his eyes off of you, even though you can't see him. At the last moment you turn, and run towards him. You almost knock him over with a hug. Burying his head in the crook of your shoulder, he hugs you back, ever careful of your injury. Separating, your smile almost knocks him over again. Weakly, he smiles back as you head through the portal, back home. 

You're left with that feeling, of his arms around your body - warm, so warm - as you putter about by the switchboard. After careful deliberation (you were really, really bored ) you'd taken to manage the Multi Modal Multiversal Switchboard - as aptly named by Miguel. Everyone else called it the Big Red Phone of course, but he had insisted on calling it by its proper name . Every. Time. 

The thought makes you chuckle as you call up Peter B. His icon flashes on the screen in front of you. With a click, he picks up the call, his face materialising holographically in front you. A little hand reaches up and tugs at his ear. 

"Ow… ouch … Dad's on the phone, honey."

"Aww! How's my favourite Parker doing?" 

"Not bad, actually! MJ just made us probably the best burger this side of New York-"

"-sorry, Peter? Me and May are trying to have a conversation." You hear her giggle in the background. Her gap toothed grin pops into frame and she babbles excitedly. "...yeah, exactly May. That's literally what I said."

"Okay, okay, that's enough." He puts the toddler down and watches her scurry away. "You're feeling better, I see."

"Yeah, back in action. Thought I'd check in."

"All good here." He squints, trying to take in your surroundings. "You're at HQ?" 

You hum.

"Could've sworn Lyla cancelled…"

"Yeah, didn't get the memo. But I think something's wrong with O'Hara."

He gives you a weird look. "Uhhh, what makes you think that?" 

"He won't even look at me. Was it something I said? Something I did?" Your eyes narrow. "...what do you know, Peter?"

"Nothing! Absolutely nothing!" He scoffs, a little too quickly, clutching his chest like you've offended him. He's stared down some of the scariest villains around, but the look you give him is truly chilling. "Just… uhhh. You didn't hear this from me." 

"Naturally…"

"We tracked 'em down, the guys that ambushed you and Jessica."

"The Sinister Six? From Earth-215?"

"Yeah, but by the time we got there, it was just Kraven and some of his goons. Miguel got there first, and…." He gulps. "He was pissed. Trashed the whole place looking for the rest of 'em. Beat Kraven half to death and we had to pull him off."

"Shit."

"Yeah, it was pretty rough. Never seen him like that before. And just generally? He'd been weirdly quiet, a little grumpy, more aggressive on missions. I don't know what's gotten into him."

"Hmmm. Thanks, Pete."

"No problem, sweetheart. And if the big guy asks… "

"...this didn't come from you, I know." Weakly, you smile. "Say hi to my favourite Parkers, for me." 

" 'Course I will. We should celebrate, if you're back officially. Mine and MJ's is always open."

"Good to know. I'll see you around."

He waves goodbye, and the hologram clicks off. Sighing, you try to piece together what you've just heard. 

Miguel: acting weird. Well, you knew that already. Aggressive was new. And Lyla? She had canceled, but not for you, for some reason. An honest mistake, perhaps. But Lyla doesn't make mistakes… 

You stew for a couple of hours, puttering about the switchboard, twiddling your thumbs. Something's wrong, and for some reason you're afraid to see him. To have him look straight through you, again, when you ask to do the same. Show me where it hurts. Tell me how to make it better.  

On the way there, you chew your lip in anticipation. In the corridor, you're outside the door to his place, hand hovering above the door. To knock, to call. In the harsh fluorescent light, you hesitate. 

"Lyla?" Nervously, you sink down onto the floor. It's hard to explain, but you don't expect her to actually come; to materialise in front of you. 

"How can I assist you?" She says with a ding. 

"Uhh… hi. Just wanted to talk." You pause, clicking your tongue. "Can you be honest with me?" 

"I can only be honest with you. It is not in my programming to lie, unless specified by my owner."

"Sure. Cool. It's about him, actually. Is Miguel okay?" 

She tilts her head, as if processing your request. "Okay is a subjective term. Is Mr O'Hara alive? Yes. Is Mr O'Hara physically well? Yes. By those terms, he is okay ."

Too vague for your own liking. "I guess I meant more… his emotional state. To the best of your knowledge… in your opinion , Lyla: is Miguel okay?" 

"...I believe Mr O'Hara is experiencing some emotional turmoil."

You frown. "Oh. Do you know why?" 

"Mr O'Hara has instructed me not to disclose that information with you."

"Fair enough. But you don't have to tell me… I could just ask questions?" 

She nods. "There is nothing in my programming that prevents me from answering some questions within certain parameters." 

"Did I do something? Not just today but… last time I was here. Did I say something to hurt or upset him? Is that why he's acting weird?"

"No." She says blankly. "And yes. I suppose it is… complicated." She gestures around that word. 

"I'm a little confused, Lyla."

She sits next to you, on the cool tile. Not that she could feel it, but it feels more intimate - like two friends talking. The extent of Lyla's consciousness, you weren't sure of. Was she alive? To you, she might as well be. Could she think, feel, emote? Maybe, maybe not. You weren't smart enough to understand the nuances of her programming. But you were human enough to see it in her - something glittering beyond the surface. 

It could be projection, but you swear her voice is softer. "He has a name for you. When he speaks about you, and to you. I have it logged in my memory database. Do you know what that is?" You shake your head. 

Lyla opens up her palm and projects videos and images - little Miguel's popping up in her palm, tinny and gruff voices ringing through the hallway. They say your name, shout your name, whisper it. Some say other things in Spanish. Curse words had always been your assumption, and he had given you no reason to think otherwise. Now, having it played back to you, you hear a tenderness in his voice you would've missed. Words and phrases that come up again and again…

"Bichita." She repeats. "Bichito del amor. Mi bichito amoroso. "

You shake your head, still confounded. "...I don't speak Spanish, Lyla." 

"Little bug. Sweetheart. Lovebug. My little lovebug." She clears her throat. "I believe they are terms of endearment."

Steadfast, she directs you towards her palm. Another small Miguel appears, and you think it's him from this morning. 

"I thought I told you not to let anyone in, Lyla?" 

"I did not let her in. She let herself in using the code you previously gave her, Mr O'Hara."

"Yeah, for emergencies. Fuck. Mi bichita, too smart for her own good."

"...If you are in distress, I believe she would understand, Mr O'Hara."

"I just think it's too much. I don't want her to see me like this." 

"According to Alchemax files, previous subjects showing this kind of aggression benefitted from-"

"Lyla, it's not happening, no chance. I can't tell her."

The figure blinks out of her palm. "Mr O'Hara has forbid me from telling you about certain things."

"...but not from showing me." Your eyes meet hers. You give her a watery smile. "Thank you." 

With a hint of a smile, she nods and is gone from the corridor. You are left alone, with nothing but your thoughts of little lovebugs rattling around in your brain.

_

_

_

[mattybsgroupie]

tape | matt sturniolo

contents: cursing, fighting; established relationship; oral (m receiving); spanking (f receiving); degradation; p in v; creampie; use of “y/n”; dom!matt

- ♡ -

notes: posting this and another one later this week in celebration of almost 600 followers. so thankful for this community and for every single person that enjoys my writing (but if one gets more likes than the other im KILLING MYSELF) <3 not proofread blablabla hope you enjoy i love y’all so so much

- ♡ -

“y/n!” matt slammed the door shut, loud voice taking over the kitchen, where i was peacefully sitting. “are you fucking dumb?!” he hissed at me, throwing his phone on the table.

“wow, chill” i said, frowning my eyebrows, confused look in my face. “what are you talking about?”

“what did you do with our camera’s flashcard?” matt crossed his arms, impatiently tapping his foot on the ground. my mouth hung open, but no words came out of it. matt looked so angry, and i knew i had cause us trouble. as i kept searching on my mind, he screamed once again “fucking tell me!”

“i don’t fucking know!” i hissed back at him, throwing my hands in the air. “i changed it the last time, i told you we were out of memory but i don’t remember where i put the other one!”

“oh you don’t?” he narrowed his eyes, stepping closer to me and removing a tiny object from his pocket. he showed me the flashcard, holding it with his thumb and index right at my face. “what about leaving it on this fucking table next to nick’s work stuff?”

my eyes widened. “matt i-i’m so sorry, fuck” i stuttered, realizing what i had done.

“you’re sorry now? after nick saw everything? we have so much shit here y/n, for christ’s sake!” matt kept holding the memory card, free hand running through his hair as he tried to calm himself down. “he saw your naked pictures, he saw mine! there are compromising videos in here y/n, can you imagine if he had uploaded any of them by mistake?”

“matt, please” i got up, walking closer to matt and resting my hand on his chest. “babe, i didn’t mean it, i’m really fucking sorry.” he looked away, scratching his freshly shaved beard.

“sometimes i think you’re asking for it, you know?” he said grabbing my wrist. “you fucking want our pics to get leaked, so that way everyone can know how much of a slut you are”. matt finished, pulling me to his room as he walked, grip in my skin getting stronger.

he slammed the door once again and pushed me on his bed, my breath turning heavy from his sudden change of behavior. matt went next to his computer, grabbing our camera. it was one of the first cameras the boys ever used to record their youtube videos, and nick gifted it matt after they changed to a new, more modern equipment. matt opened the video screen and turned it on, green light signaling he had started recording.

“take your shorts off” he demanded and i knew i could no longer run from my punishment. i kept sitting, slowly removing the cloth down my legs, kicking it away with my foot. i was wearing pink panties and a t-shirt i borrowed from him, not looking my best.

“you wanted this so bad, didn't you?” he asked, positioning the camera on the nightstand. matt sat next to me, but only to pull my legs over him. he turned me over, my belly now resting on his thighs and my head falling down, only my left arm resting on the mattress. i opened my mouth in disbelief, my calves trying to move away from him somehow.

“what are you doing?” i asked, trying to at least get a bit more comfortable in that position.

“giving you what you wanted” matt said, his arm locking my legs together while the other one held me by my breasts - at least my head wouldn’t be spinning. one of his cold hands smacked my ass, the sudden contact making me choke on a moan. i could feel matt’s grin growing wide as he palmed my skin, preparing me for another slap.

“fuck!” i groaned as the burning sensation started. i knew matt didn’t actually want to hurt me, he rubbed my butt after each smack, soothing the tingles i felt as my blood started to run faster.

“matt- please” i tried to speak, but another spank interrupted me. “behave, yeah?” matt whispered in my ear and pointed to the camera. “everyone’s gonna see how much of a fucking slut you are. can’t even take a punishment, right?” he teased, long fingers now travelling between my buttcheeks, brushing lightly over my panties. matt pressed his digits harder over my cunt, feeling the wetness there “soaked already?”

i looked away, trying to cover my embarrassment with my hands - it was humiliating, my ass in the air being spanked by matt after a mistake i didn’t even mean to make. “you’re fucking embarassed? can you imagine how i was after nick gave this to me? my brother saw everything, your dirty whore” he didn’t stop the slaps, and i couldn’t stop whimpering as his hand kept on marking my skin.

“ah!” i cried once more, until he two other spanks were enough. matt gave a kiss on each of my senstive buttcheeks and tossed me out of his lap, getting up and standing in front of me. he grabbed the camera once again, turning the screen so that only him could see what he was filming. my face was burning red and i was already exhausted. matt looked at me, rising his eyebrows, wide grin on his face.

“come on” he said, zooming the lenses on me. “you’re gonna look so pretty with your mouth wrapped around my cock”.

i gulped, quickly nodding and moving my hands to his belt. i had barely unbuckled it, but i could feel matthew’s impatience growing. i pulled matt’s pants down along with his underwear, revealing his hardened dick. matt moved the camera to show off his own length, eager for me to touch him, even when he was the one in charge.

i wrapped my fingers around his shaft, veins pulsing in my palm. i brought my mouth closer to his tip, lips wrapping around the sensitive area as i received a groan in response, matt finally getting some relief to his aching cock. i couldn’t fit him entirely - matt was huge - so both of my hands started pumping the missing part as i moved my head down.

i heard matt chuckling, delighted with the view of my teary eyes begging for him. he started to slowly move his hips forward, trying to thrust his leaking dick inside of my throat. one of his hands went to my hair, already messy and tangled, in order to set my pace as he pleased.

i mumbled on his cock, asking if i could please, please, please, take a breath. of course, no words came out, my muffled voice only sent vibrations and warmth to his length which made him push his cock forward in my mouth, making me gag.

i could feel the saliva running down the sides of my lips when i softly tapped matt’s thigh and he slowly removed his cock, realizing he might have been a little too rough. i coughed, catching my breath as he pouted at me, faux sympathy showing by the lust in his eyes.

“can’t you take anything?” he asked, tugging the hem of my - his - shirt. “you cry when i spank you, you can’t even blow me properly… weren’t you supposed to act like a good slut?” matt said, helping me remove the white cloth, exposing my breasts. my nipples had been poking through the shirt from a long while, but only now matt decided to zoom in on my nubs. i caught him licking his lips as i positioned myself further on the bed, showing off my body to him. my fingers around as his followed from my neck to my collarbones and down to my tits as i teased my hardened nipples with my own digits.

“so pretty” matt whispered so low i wouldn’t have heard it if i wasn’t paying attention to his lips. “on fours” he said in a serious tone, making my pussy clench.

i turned my body over, standing on my elbows and knees, sticking my ass out as he placed himself on the bed with his knees behind me. matt’s cold fingers touched the waistband of my panties, slowly pulling it down my legs as he filmed everything.

he grabbed his own cock and pumped a few times, spreading the pre-cum along his length before dragging his dick between my buttcheeks and moving it down my cunt, lazily rubbing my folds, not really trying to fuck me. after teasing me a bit more, matt quickly put the camera back on his nightstand, now filming both of us.

matt placed his digits on my entrance, pressing my wet hole with two fingers. he slowly started to push in, but didn’t go all the way, pulling out when he saw me biting my own lips. i whined in protest - i needed him to fill me up. “fucking shut up” he spoke in a lighter mood than in the beginning of the night, showing that he was now just as needy as me.

his hands rested on my hips, holding it tight as he gradually buried himself inside of me. his pre-cum and all of my juices made it easier for matt to slide in, quickly stretching my walls and not giving me time to adjust to his size before pounding into me. “gosh- matt!” i moaned, throwing my head back as my cunt throbbed.

“always so tight for me” he said, hovering his body over mine. his chest was almost glued to my back, one of matt’s hands holding my jaw so he could kiss me. “who owns that pretty cunt, huh?” matt asked, my mouth hanging open as i could no longer stop my gruntings “y-you! ah-”.

“my fucking slut” he kept on talking while jointing his hips forward, cock finally hitting my spot. “only mine”.

“yes matt, fuck!” i pleaded, feeling my cunt clench its own walls against his dick. “i’m gonna cum, please!”

“don’t you fucking dare coming before me” matt said as his thrusts turned sloppier, trying to reach his orgasm. “f-fuck, taking me so well” he groaned loudly, palm once again meeting my ass as he slapped my skin. suddenly, i felt matt’s release filling me up completely, his sticky spurt leaking down my thighs as he finally allowed me to cum as well. my whole body trembled as my orgasm washed over me, my chest panting heavily, letting my head fall on the mattress.

matt slowly pulled out of me, lying down by my side as he came back from his high.

“are you okay?” matt asked, his hand resting on my back while i still recovered. “was i too rough?” he caressed my skin and i could feel the concern in his voice starting to show as i didn’t say anything in response.

“i’m never” i started, still out of breath. “losing the fucking card again”. i heard matt chuckle as he moved his other arm further, trying to reach the nightstand. he grabbed the camera and placed it next to my face. “say hi, pretty”

“hi pretty” i joked, matt giggling before turning the lenses to himself and winking to the video, pressing the finish button and closing the video screen. “and yes, babe. i’m okay” i assured him. “im sorry for being irresponsible and-“ he cut me off with a kiss. as he pressed his lips against mine, i realized he was no longer mad at me, and i could finally let myself relax.

“by the way” he spoke, throwing the camera on his side of the bed “you can leak this one” i giggled, hugging him, both of us acknowledging we could never - ever - lose this flash card again.

- ♡ -

taglist (drop a 🌸!): @thepubeburgler @marselise @pearlzier @mattsfavbitchhh

[thestarsarebrightertonight]

imgonnagetyouback // mattheo riddle x fem hufflepuff reader

playlist: imgonnagetyouback - taylor swift / get him back! - olivia rodrigo

summary : mattheo riddle does not prank anyone , well asides from you and youve reached your breaking point.

y/n used , hufflepuff reader , swearing , jealousy, fighting , enemies to lovers

masterlist tppd series masterlist

you screamed in horror as cold water splashed down on you , soaking your whole uniform , hair and bag.

"WHAT THE FUCK!" you screeched in pure horror , you looked around the hall in search of a certain smirking face you had come to know all too well.

every student in the hall stared silently , many laughing and some first years looking scared at your angry demeanor. however the one who laughed the most was mattheo riddle , of course.

the boy who has tormented you since first year , endless pranks , endless teasing and zero remorse - mattheo riddle. you dont know what you did to deserve it , but you could easily say it had made you hate the boy more than anyone on the planet. it started with mean nicknames , getting the whole year to call you snotty in first year just because you blew your nose into a tissue in class once. it makes no sense right? completely unprovoked!

"oh dont you just look lovely, baby" mattheo smirked as he walked towards you , holding the bucket he had used to dump water all over you with a simple levitation charm.

"im going you KILL YOU MATTHEO RIDDLE!" you screamed , standing right in front of him and grabbing his collar.

"wow calm down sunshine , its just a bit of water," his smug expression never left his face as he started down at you , his eyes flicking down to your chest where your bra was clearly visible due to your white - soaked - shirt.

you gasped in horror , removing your arms to button up your robe and hide it , " you fucking pervert!"

he held his hands up in defense, "they looked at me first"

"merlin i really really hate you mattheo riddle , rot in hell!" you screamed in his pretty face , running away and pushing past people to get to the hufflepuff common room. mattheos eyes followed you , grinning before walking away when you finally left his sight.

----

"ive got to get him back! hes gotten away with bullying me for too long!" you ranted to your best friend cedric who sat on your bed, listening to the rant he had to endure nearly every day.

"he isnt bullying you y/n , hes teasing you because he likes you," cedric said for the 1000th time since you came back to hogwarts from summer break.

"cedric, hes made my life hell! i hate him and his stuid face GOD!" you groaned.

cedric just stared up at you , bored , "he makes fun of you fir being a hufflepuff right? -you nodded- then charm all his robes to hufflepuff ones then. if hes such a egotistical slytherin that you say he is , he'll hate that"

you grinned excitedly , "yes! his ego is bigger than the whole castle , itd ruin him!"

cedric smiled at your happiness as you hugged him , "thanks ced , love you!"

he laughed as you grabbed your wand and ran out of your dorm , leaving cedric to sigh and get up , following you.

---

the next day your leg bounced in excitement , you had suceeded in making his robes hufflepuff and now it was time to see him angrily burst into the great hall.

"y/n? earth to y/nnn," cedric sang , waving a hand infront of your face , finally catching your attention , "youre gonna make it obvious it was you."

"oh i want him to know it was me , it is so on!" you said quickly , turning back to the enterance of the great hall as cedric sighed in defeat , continuing his talk with the hufflepuff captian.

then a grinning mattheo , wearing a hufflepuff robe and tie walked into the room , looking around until catching your eye and smirking.

you gasped in horror , why is he smiling?!!

you continued to stare at him as a ravenclaw boy walked over.

"like the robes mattheo," the boy said as mattheo smirked.

"thanks my girlfriend got me them , y/n," mattheo said back happily as your face twisted in horror , immediately rising from the hufflepuff table and rushing over.

you stood in front of the smirking slytherin and shook your head at the ravenclaw, "hes NOT my boyfriend dont worry!"

mattheo looked down at you and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind , resting his head on top of yours , "oh i am"

you felt heat rush to your cheeks as the ravenclaw boy just nodded in confusion before walking away silently.

horrified you turned around to face mattheo as his arms remained around you , "what the fuck are you doing!!"

"what? you gave me some hufflepuff robes it was clearly a decleration of your little claim on me , love" he smirked at you , playing with your hair with one hand.

"i would rather die! take the robes off!" you shouted as you tried to wrestle the robe off of him , he had no reaction and just smiled at you.

"stripping me down infront of everyone? i didnt see you as the type but im all in, " he said with a wink.

you immediately stopped what you was doing as his hand grabbed yours , pausing your attempt to take off the hufflepuff tie , "stop telling everyone im your girlfriend riddle , its weird!"

"manifestation am i right?" he laughed , bringing your connected hands down as you scoffed.

"youre so annoying!" you shouted in anger , turning around to go sit back down at the hufflepuff table.

"merlin im gonna kill him!" you vented to your friends once you sat down , but they all looked besides you , "what?"

"meeting friends so early , wow we really are going fast!" mattheo grinned next to you.

"go away riddle!" you seethed.

"y/n you dragged him here.." susan said pointing down to your hand still holding mattheos , you gasped in terror and let go quickly.

"go! shoo!" you pushed him away like a wild animal.

"i cant , im a hufflepuff now so im sitting here," mattheo smiled before grabbing a plate and scooping food onto it , resting his arm around your waist.

you stared at him in disbelief , "UGH!".

he simply grinned at you pulling you in closer to him , how you remained for the rest of breakfast.

----

"so i assume you know a certain wild animal called , mattheo riddle , right?" you whispered to the twins who nodded in unision , "well you must know how hes tormented me these past years. i need to get him back."

the twins looked at eachother with smirks , signalling for you to step closer as to not be heard by anyone in the corridor you had rushed them into , "we think the best way for you to get him back is to make him jealous"

"jealous?" you asked in confusion, backing away , "cmon guys youre the kings of pranks please just give me something to make him smell really bad or something-"

"no y/n. first of all thank you but trust us , you want to know the first fight mattheo riddle got into?" george asked as you nodded in intruige.

"it was with a guy that was going to ask you out in third year," fred finished as george cringed recalling the brutal beating.

"what?!" you gasped , "a guy was going to ask me out and that litlle DEVIL ruined it?!".

they both looked at eachother and sighed , "that isnt the point dear y/n. just...just do as we say. you need to get a fake boyfriend - like cedric , and make sure everyone knows. believe us , you will see mattheo riddle just as angry as you are when he pranks you."

you sigh in defeat , "okay. i just need to convince cedric."

they both nodded and stepped back from the secret huddle the three of you had formed , "good giving revenge advice to you little miss hufflepuff, good luck."

you nodded slowly as the three of you walked in opposite directions.

----

"cedric please!! the twins said its the only thing that will work!" you whined as you grabbed cedrics arm , stopping his pacing around your dorm room.

"and i agree with them but why did it have to be me!-"

"ced , youre my best friend , if i had to fake date any guy itd be you." you reassured him as he finally met your eyes.

there was a long pause before cedric sighed in defeat , "fine , but dont you dare kiss me!-"

"cedric i know your first kiss is reserved for miss cho chang , dont worry!" you laughed as he cracked a small smile.

----

over the next few days you made the effort to hold cedrics hand more ,laugh at his jokes more and tell everyone possible how much of a lovely boyfriend he is. the word had travelled pretty fast and the second it reached mattheo riddle his whole damenor changed.

you were currently sitting at the hufflepuff table with your head on cedrics shoudler , facing the slytherin table and a very angry mattheo riddle who tightened his pale fist.

you laughed at susans joke , before hearing an abrupt slam on the slytherin table , no one else seemed to notice or care but you watched in fear as mattheo riddle jumped from the table and stared straight at cedric , beginning to come over.

in a panic you grabbed cedrics face whispering in desperation, "kiss me cedric!"

"what no!" he whisper yelled in horror , finally catching a glimpse at the fuming riddle heading his way as he gulped at the sight, "why!?"

"the weasley twins told me when he reaches a breaking point we have to , please! i have to get him back after all these years!"

cedric sighed in frustration , "you owe me!"

you nodded as you both moved closer to eachother , lips about to touch until -

cedric got roughly dragged from his seat on the bench , mattheo holding his robes and punching him.

you gasped in suprise not having truly thought of the consequence a raged mattheo would have on cedrics safety , jumping up from the table you watched cedric land a punch on mattheo face.

you cringed at the sight as you tugged on mattheos arm , finally pulling him away from cedric.

"get off of him mattheo!" you shouted.

"tell him to get off you first! ill fuck you up golden boy diggory-!" mattheo shouted at him as cedric attempted to jump back onto him , resulting in you stomping out of the hall , dragging mattheo along with you.

----

finally getting to your dorm you opened the door and shoved mattheo in , slamming the door behind you.

he staggered slightly before you pushed him down on the bed , pacing around the room as he sat and watched.

"what the fuck were you doing!" you exclaimed.

"i was teaching that dickhead a lesson!-" he argued back , being cut off by you pointing a finger in his face.

"DONT call ced a dickhead!" you screamed.

"ced?! CED?! fucking hell he even has a nickname, " he scoffed sourly.

"hes had a nickname for years , hes my bestfriend!".

"yeah cause bestfriends kiss eachother and tell everyone theyre dating right?!" he shouted back.

you paused at this suddenly realising why he had fought cedric in the first place , because of your stupid plan you only now realised was never going to end well.

turning to look mattheo in the face you silently walked towards him , stopping infront of him as he looked up at you. you stared down at him, noticing the bleeding cut on his cheek and running to grab your first aid things in your drawer.

you stood infront of him again, grabbing his chin and forcing him to look up at you allowing you a view of the cut as you grabbed a band-aid from the small box. he watched you with softened eyes as you wiped the cut softly and delicatly placed the band-aid.

"im sorry," you whispered letting go off his chin as his hands went up to your hips , pulling you in between his knees, "i had this stupid plan of getting back at you - the weasley twins told me youd get really angry if i pretended to date cedric. i guess i only just realised why you got so angry."

"why did i get so angry?" he asked softly , wanting to hear you say it.

"you love me." you whispered as he bit back his smile.

"since first year.... i guess im just not good at showing it." he sighed.

"dont mattheo , its my fault too , i was way too oblivious to your feeling and my own feelings . if i realised earlier then this wouldnt have happened-"

"wait. you....have feelings for me?" he asked with hope and desperation.

you paused before nodding , "if i hadnt liked you the whole time i wouldnt have continued to interact with you. i definetly wouldnt have let you hold my hand or my waist. i wouldnt have put in so much effort to get you back... i just didnt realise that througout this whole thing , you were the only person i tolerated teasing me for years."

he chuckled , "i wouldnt say tolerated , i ended up with a few bruisies."

you both laughed at this as he stood up , now towering over you, "im sorry for fighting cedric....and every guy who asked you out in the past."

"i always found it weird they ended up in the hospital wing and ghosting me the day after," you laughed.

he shrugged ,"i couldnt just watch you be with someone else, the thought of it literally tears me apart."

"yeah well youre not alone , remember when that ravenclaw girls hair turned neon yellow after you went on a date with her?" he nodded slowly , "yeah that was me."

he howled with laughter at your confession , remembering the scream of the girl when her hair transformed the day after his date with her.

"youre not alone either , i only went out with her to make you jealous," he confessed too.

"i knew ittt" you sang as he scoffed.

"no you didnt!"

"youre right i didnt," you shrugged.

once his laughter stopped he rested his hand on your cheek , "lets make a deal , no more pranks and no more fights."

you nodded.

"when youre angry with me just...kiss me" he said looking from your eyes to your lips as they pulled into a smile and crashed into his.

first year you is gagging in disgust.