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not-neverland06 · 1 month

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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

General Taglist: @evasmlp

Logan Taglist: @nonamevenus ♡

#logan howlett x you #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #the worst logan x reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool #hugh jackman #praying this doesn't flop

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eggmeralda · 10 months

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I wish I was able to explain the concept of ruth a lot better bc then I could be like "this is a ruth moment" "progressing onto the next stage of the ruth arc" etc and everyone would know what I mean

#having a week+ long feud with various couriers over a missing john leyton compilation album is a certified ruth moment #i can't explain it but tis #she's so hard to explain she's my oc she's a self insert she's a prophecy she's my future self she's me in the present she's a concept she #she's basically a joke me and my sister had of a 31 year old woman who's someone's weird aunt #but she was based on a pic of me when i was 19. and then we were like that's just me in the future #and we'd say random facts about ruth based on vibes #but then so many of them came true??#a few years ago one of us was like ''i can see ruth becoming really invested in coronation street''#and look where i am now. 28 years deep into it #''ruth definitely fancies some early 60s pop singer and buys all his albums and like. her facebook photo is a pic of them together''#and like. I've never met john leyton and currently don't have any albums bc i'm having drama with royal mail atm but other than that?#''ruth has a youtube channel where she reviews and compares biscuits from different supermarkets'' is the most recent prediction #it's too recent that it is nowhere near happening yet but. it's only a matter of time #also ruth used to have two golden retrievers named lily and jasmine. but it's slowly turning into one cocker spaniel named lilyjasmine #but at this point lily and jasmine are not dogs. they are a concept. a way of life. a vibe #two matching salt and pepper containers. two moths that fly into the house. a pair of flip flops. they are all lily and jasmine #anyway #ramble #ruth vibes

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2hightocare · 7 months

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LOVE WAGER! 01

Synopsis: Meeting a crazy stranger who cuts in line, tries to tell you love like the books doesn’t exist—it’s whatever. You won’t ever see him again… right?

Pairings: jungkook x fem!reader

Genre: college au. strangers to friends to lovers. forced proximity.

Warnings: mentions of divorce parents, Jungkook lowkey being insufferable, banter, cussing, a little bit of them being enemies, nicknames, oc being a hopeless romantic at heart, Jungkook being lowkey a cynic… them meeting each other so many times, choking!

a/n: first chapter out!! Woohoo, I’ve been keeping them close to my heart for quite some time. Ever since I listened to “in between” by Gracie Abrams.. I was inspired to write them—the song is so them coded.💌

★ masterlist!

3 years ago…

You were a hopeless romantic.

Most people called it being delusional— by people, you mean the random stranger in front of you.

The first time you met Jungkook, not only did he cut in front of you in line, but he also started shit-talking about how delusional you had to be to think romance books were even remotely comparable to real life.

The line at the cupcake shop was long. You had been wanting to try the new chocolate-covered strawberry flavor from your favorite cupcake shop in the city. The shop was always full, but today it was packed to the bone— the line almost reached outside the door. The people sitting at the cute pastel-colored tables were even leaving because the space was getting so crowded.

It was a Friday, and you had just left school. Your black backpack hung loosely over one shoulder as you stared down at your phone, trying not to die playing Subway Surfers. When your phone died, you internally groaned.

You mentally rolled your eyes before looking forward, where the line was starting to move faster. You were probably the fourth person in line, which was good since you'd only been there for around twenty minutes. You slipped your phone into the back pocket of your jeans before reaching for the zipper of your backpack—pulling out the latest book you hadn’t finished reading amidst all the assignments teachers had been bombarding you with. You thought it was dumb, considering it was your senior year in high school—why not just let you off easy?

You zipped up your backpack before slipping it on, tucking in the small hair that fell into your face when you opened your book. You moved forward as the line advanced, not bothered by the conversations from everyone around you—it was like your own brown noise, which you usually looked up on YouTube whenever you wanted to act like the main character in a movie.

Romance books were your thing. The same went for movies; you loved a good romantic story with the most cliché plot in the world—it did it for you every single time.

Your dad had tried getting you into self-help books, fiction books, or even those thriller books where you had to guess who kills who. He would back this up with actually learning something from reading a book, and you tried all those genres, you really did. You were the most specific girl there could be; if the book didn't impress you within one chapter, you closed it and moved on.

You were basically in love with the idea of love, imagining someone doing all those things you had seen in movies and read about, which filled you with hope that someone could care and love you that way. Yes, you believed in soulmates; you believed that someone, somewhere in this world, was destined to be with you, no matter the circumstances. You believed that if two people were destined for each other, they would find a way to each other, one way or another.

“Hi, baby, you still haven’t ordered? The line is so fucking long.” A strange boy, who looked around your age or maybe slightly older due to his eyebrow piercing, spoke up. He had a navy blue cap with the Yankees logo on the front, and you could see small pieces of his hair. It looked like a dark brown, but at some angles, it looked black, so you thought maybe he dyed it. He was cute, with a sharp jaw and dimples, which you immediately noticed when they showed on his left cheek as he bit his lip, waiting for you to reply.

“I’m sorry—“ you started, only to be cut off by him. “I've been meaning to show you this, babe.” He cut you off before basically shoving his phone into your face. His phone showed his notes app open with a text that read, ‘Please act like you know me so I can cut in line; it’s so long, and I have somewhere to be.’

Your brows furrowed at the pleading guy. You had no clue what his name was, but he looked like he was seriously about to lose his mind if he had to wait another minute in line. You shook your head before nodding— a smile burst on his face.

“Thank you,” he mouthed to you, to which you only shrugged before closing your book. “What flavor are you getting, lovebug?” He said, his nose scrunching in disgust at what he just said. A small laugh escaped your lips since that was the cringiest shit you had heard all day, maybe even all week if you didn’t count your dad trying to write you a poem about his love for your cat.

“I want to get the new chocolate-covered strawberry flavor. What about you?” You said, your fingers fidgeting with the pages of your closed book. His eyes dropped to your hands as you moved up in line, now second in line.

“Is that your book?” He said instead of replying to your question. “Yeah, do you read?” A spike of excitement was clear in your face and voice, only to be squashed when he opened his mouth.

“Do you actually believe anything in there is remotely realistic?” He said nonchalantly before removing his cap, letting his fluffy hair fall in his face before almost immediately collecting it back, placing his cap backward this time.

“I—“ you stutter, your mouth slightly agape, not knowing how to reply without sounding dumb. Because, yeah, you strongly believed romance books were able to happen in real life if someone loved you enough. “Well.. I mean, love happens anywhere,” you shrug, but he only nods his head in a condescending way. Not only were you helping him skip in line—he was basically criticizing your view on love.

“Well, duh, love happens, but all that cringey shit is the dumbest thing our generation normalized. Like, nobody is going to confess their love with a microphone in the middle of a dance-off,” he scoffs. You didn’t understand why he actually looked like he seriously hated the idea of making gestures for someone you loved or cared about.

“Well, obviously, I find that stupid as well, but there are other gestures to show your appreciation and love for someone.” You turn your whole body to face him. He’s not much taller than you, maybe two inches if you really wanted to know, and the cap maybe added another inch, but that didn’t matter since your eyesight was eye level with his.

“Love is embarrassing,” he says, crossing his arms in front of him. You felt the lady behind you both, her eyes bore into you both, trying to figure out why the supposed couple were fighting about love.

“How is love embarrassing?” You scoff before turning around to look in front of you, at the back of the head of the man who was ordering.

“Because love makes you do embarrassing shit all the time; that’s the easiest way I can put it for you, ribbons,” he replies with a duh tone, raising his eyebrows at you, which you see from your peripheral vision.

“Ribbons?” You turn to him, your arms crossed over your book as you glare at him. “Pink ribbon. Don’t you think you look a little too old to be wearing bows?” A grin appears on his face as he casually points to the pink ribbon tied into a bow in your hair.

“The fuck? Not only did I let you skip the line, but you’re a) talking shit about my favorite genre, and b) making fun of me wearing bows.” You turn your full body to him, which he only raises his hands in defense, as if you had a gun pointed at him.

“Damn, my bad. I thought this was a free country; you know your amendments, right?” He raises an eyebrow at you. “Yes, I fucking know my amendments,” you reply, absolutely annoyed at him bringing history into this.

“Freedom of speech,” he says before walking in front of you to the cashier. You were annoyed, maybe even angry. How dare he talk shit and say freedom of speech when you just did him a favor.

“He cut in front of me,” you point to him as you tell on him to the cashier, his jaw dropping to the floor. “Did you just tell on me? What the fuck,” he side-eyes you as you just shrugged.

“I respectfully need to ask you to go to the back of the line,” the cashier says, shooting you an apologetic look. You bite on the inside of your cheek to contain the smile that is threatening to slip out, as he sends you a mocking face, which you return, because apparently, you both were literal children. He rolled his eyes before he walked off.

2 years ago..

The second time you met Jungkook, you almost died due to choking on your coke.

You and your best-friend, Amelia, sat in a booth, munching on pizza, while you hear her ramble about the latest drama on campus.

“I can’t believe he cheated on her. I was so shocked, like I couldn’t believe he would do that after he literally gave her a promise ring—I heard it was expensive as well, bro,” Amelia said, stuffing a French fry in her mouth.

Amelia and you had been best friends since your freshman year at Preston University. She ended up in your dorm room by mistake, until security escorted her to her corresponding room. You both even had your calculus class together, which ended in both of you ripping your hair out because you truly had no clue what the professor was talking about.

“Oh my god, you’re lying!” you gasped, taking a bite of your folded pizza. “Alexandra said she didn’t care, but apparently, she was crying at the frat party we were supposed to go to yesterday,” Amelia said, pressing her lips together with wide eyes. As you were about to reply, she gasped.

“Holy shit, babes, don’t turn around, but there’s this fine-ass guy behind you,” she said. Without thinking you turned your whole body to look at the guy she was talking about.

“Or just turn your whole body, I don't care,” she added, rolling her eyes.

“Wait, who?” you asked, staring at the group of boys in front of you. They were all cute, just not your type whatsoever. “He just turned around, so you can’t see his face, but the one with the black beanie,” Amelia whispered to you as she took a sip of her Dr Pepper.

As you stared at the back of the boy who was engrossed in a conversation with his friend, a loud laugh escaped his lips before he threw his head back, letting you catch a glimpse of his face.

“Oh, fuck, his laugh is hot as fuck as well,” Amelia said behind you, chewing on her crispy fries. “Do you think he has a girlfrien—“ The words melted from your mouth as the beanie boy turned around. “Yeah, he definitely has a girlfriend,” Amelia said nonchalantly, clearly not catching how your eyes widened, as you both stare at the boy who had cut in front of you in line three years ago.

He was taller, much taller, and he was built—you could tell even from his oversized long-sleeve shirt. As much as you wanted to disagree, he was undeniably attractive. The eyebrow piercing was still there, but it somehow looked better than when you first saw it.

“Ribbons?” he said, pointing at you with a chuckle, making you flinch for absolutely no reason. Amelia looked between both of you, trying to read the room.

“Mr. anti-romantic?” You fired back, a huge smile breaking out on his face before he excused himself from his friend group and made his way to your booth. “I see you got a nickname for me... I feel honored,” he said, pressing a palm to his heart dramatically before shooting a nod at Amelia, who waved with a small smile on her face.

You just rolled your eyes. He was the most childish person you had ever met, and that says a lot since this was only the second time you'd ever spoken to him. “I wouldn’t be so honored,” you mumbled, shooting him a tight-lipped smile as he shook his head with a low chuckle.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Amelia said out of nowhere, both you and the unknown boy's heads snap to the side as a smirk makes it’s way to his mouth, while you throw daggers at Amelia with your eyes for her blunt question. “I doubt he would ever hav—“ you start, only to be rudely interrupted by none other than Mr. anti-romantic himself.

“I actually do, and I was just about to meet her here, but I saw your friend and just had to come and say hello,” he said to your best friend, all while wearing a condescending smile.

“Oof, I feel bad for her,” you shrugged, before placing the straw of your clear cup in your mouth and sipping on your coke.

“Eh, she says I’m a pretty good boyfriend, not a hopeless romantic like someone I know,” he said, watching your eyes meet his before you tilted your head in a mocking way, which he picked up immediately.

“I wonder how you even got her to say yes to you,” you bit back, your eyes maintaining contact with his, not wanting to be the first to break it. But he was too good at it; you almost felt like crumbling into a ball from how intense his stare was.

“I guess you could say there are more ways to please a woman without love letters,” he said nonchalantly. You choked on your coke as the liquid went down the wrong pipe, making you start having a coughing attack.

His and Amelia’s eyes widened as Amelia immediately swatted the man who was right beside you. His hand made contact with your arm, raising it up in the air.

“The fuck are you doing?” Amelia said aggressively, side-eyeing him, as you basically died in front of their wondering eyes. You really didn’t expect him to just talk about his sexual life so openly without a care. You would want to crawl into a hole if your boyfriend ever talked about your private moments like that to anyone.

“My mom said if you put someone’s hand up, it makes your cough go away. I don’t fucking know! I’m not a doctor,” he shot back at your best friend as he raised your arm in the air. Your cough slightly disappeared as you tapped on your chest as if that would do anything to stop it.

“Are you good?” Amelia said as she basically hovered over the table. You felt the whole dinner's eyes on you as you tried to recover from the insane coughing fit you just had. “Y-yeah, fuck,” you coughed, your arms still up in the air from his hold. “I almost for real thought you were about to die. I already imagined myself behind bars,” he said, rubbing his unoccupied hand through his face with a sigh.

“Now I’m hoping I actually died,” you said, yanking your arm away from his grasp.

“We’re leaving, Amelia. Let’s go,” you said, standing up, collecting your jacket and bag, and pushing him out of the way, standing up beside him.

He hovered over you; you almost wanted to jump up to reach his height, but you were already embarrassed enough. So instead, you fixed your denim skirt before looking up at him.

“Well, it was so not nice to see you again, and hopefully we don’t get to meet again, Mr. anti-romantic. Goodbye,” you said as you sent him a fake smile his way.

You pulled on Amelia’s hand before she could say anything and walked out of the dining room without looking back at the boy who was standing in the same place, watching the girl he almost witnessed pass away by choking on coke from him even remotely bringing up sex.

A small chuckle left past his lips as he made his way to the table where his friends were seated.

“Dude, what the fuck happened? Why was that pretty girl coughing like crazy?” Taehyung said, eyeing the door through which you had just left.

Jungkook didn’t know why his heart picked up when his best friend called you pretty. He wasn’t blind; you were beautiful. When he first met you, you both were obviously much younger. If it wasn’t for how much you had grown into your face and the braces you once had were long gone, it would’ve been your aura that gave it away. You were more outspoken, which kinda took him back but sent a sense of excitement through his body.

“No clue. Just some girl I met in my senior year... kinda taken aback I ran into her again,” Jungkook said before picking up the menu from the table, looking for what food he should order. “Maybe it’s fate, bro,” Namjoon teased, which made Jungkook drop his menu on the table.

“You guys know all that shit is bullshit, right? It was just a coincidence. I’ll probably never see her again after this,” Jungkook rolled his eyes, leaning backward onto the booth and crossing his arms in front of him defensively.

“Whatever you say, champion,” Hoseok whistled as he called the waitress.

Jungkook's brain immediately canceled out the noise as he started running through all the possible scenarios that would leave you both at the same place at the same time. His body shook from the possibility of it being fate; he hated the idea of the answer being anything besides actual proven fact. He didn’t care how cynical he might sound; he had trusted so many people in his life, including his parents, who always preached about love and honesty. But flash forward to him having to skip around each house of his parents every weekday and weekend. He hated how he believed them when they said love can get through everything. Absolutely not—divorce.

He just imagined your perfect household, two parents at the same home who still say ‘I love you’ to each other every chance they get. You get to read your books in your living room without a fight breaking out out of nowhere just because someone forgot to throw the trash out.

Love didn’t exist in his eyes. He believed in mutual respect. He doesn’t believe in the whole crazy in love charade. His girlfriend Haneul didn’t really want the whole whispering cute things in each other's ears or dancing under the moon either, and that’s why he chose her.

Plus, he wasn’t an asshole when it came to love when it came to other people. Did he want to ruin their moment and tell them they wouldn’t last? Yes—but he never does.

He saw how broken his mom was after the divorce. He thought about the idea of love and if someone came to love you, you would do anything in your power to not hurt them. It had been five years since his parents’ divorce, and everyone seemed to have moved on perfectly, while Jungkook watched how his perspective of love changed drastically over time.

He was glad that you didn’t have to go through what he had to go through, given your obvious naivety. That was entirely the only reason he shit-talked about love when he first met you, which was the most jackass move he could’ve done, especially after you let him skip the line. But after you told on him to the cashier like a little child, he was thinking of actually tackling you.

Either way, it didn’t matter for him to be worrying or thinking about you in the first place, when he didn’t even know your name. Plus, he would never see you again, that’s for sure.

Present day..

Psychology class was your number one nemesis. You literally begged the counselor to let you have another class that wasn’t psychology. Not only did he laugh, but he said it would do you good. In your mind, he basically called you crazy—maybe you did need the class after all.

As you huffed and puffed to your last class of the day, you fixed your glasses on your face and tightened the high ponytail with the white ribbon that matched the outfit Amelia helped you pick out. You pushed open the door to the class and were greeted by half-empty seats and no professor, giving you the option to choose where you sat.

You were a middle-seat row girl, unable to see far away without your glasses. You also avoided sitting too close to the front, fearing teachers would call on you.

As you took a seat in the chair, a body sat beside you without a word. You didn’t even care to look as you took out your laptop from your backpack, worrying about how this year’s professor might be. You had heard from last year’s students that the teacher might have been the devil’s spawn.

While you were finally seated, you moved your head to your left to see the body next to you engrossed in their phone. Your jaw dropped as you were met with none other than Mr. Anti-Romantic.

“What the actual fuck, are you stalking me or something?” you said, absolutely baffled by how many times you had run into him and from all the empty seats, he decided to sit next to you.

He immediately raised his head from his phone, his eyes widening as he stared at your obviously angry face. “Ribbons? What the actual fuck, I didn’t realize that was you,” he said, throwing his head back in shock.

“You had to know it was me, why else would you sit beside me?” you scoffed, crossing your arms in front of you. He looked the same as the last time you saw him, except now he had a full sleeve of tattoos on his right arm, and the eyebrow piercing was long gone.

Now that he was closer to you, you could see the small mole he had under his lip and the scar on his cheek. His hair was shorter and black, but classroom lights deceived, so maybe it was fully brown, but you didn’t dare to ask.

“Don’t think you’re special, Ribbons. I just can’t see from the back, and in the front, teachers always pick on you to talk in front of the class, and I’m trying to avoid that,” he explained, having the same process as you, but unfortunately, the other half of his brain didn’t process the idea of love.

“Are you sure you have the right class?” you bit out, hoping he had walked into the wrong class and would have to leave immediately. You seriously couldn’t even wrap your head around the fact that he was here and that he went to the same university as you—this being the first time he had seen you around campus.

“Psychology class A65,” he side-eyed you as you rolled your eyes and faced the board, trying your best to ignore his presence.

“You know you can just move to another seat, right?” he said, pointing to all the empty seats beside you. Your head slowly turned to the side to face his face as he gave you a tight-lipped smile.

“Why would I move when I was here first?” you scoffed his way as he shrugged, indicating that he couldn’t care less. “’Cause I truly don’t care, but you obviously seem affected by my presence, so Ribbons, pick your seat,” he pointed to the available seats.

You imagined the easiest way you could kill someone, but tackling him to the ground at this exact moment might bring attention to you both, so you just breathed out of your nose before giving him a fake smile and rolling your eyes.

“I’m not leaving, and for your information, I’m perfectly fine and not bothered by your presence whatsoever,” you said, trying your best to seem as calm and collected as possible.

“For your information…” he mocked beside you, trying to imitate your voice before chuckling. “I swear, Ribbons, I can see smoke coming out of your ears and nose,” he laughed.

“Stop calling me Ribbons,” you gritted your teeth, already at your limit.

“What else do you want me to call you? I don’t know your name, and you’re still wearing ribbons, I can see,” Mr. Anti-Romantic pointed to the white ribbon in your hair. You rolled your eyes before sending his calm, collected figure a scanty smile.

“Y/n,” you said, tilting your head to the side, as if asking him to tell you his name. “I like Mr. Anti-Romantic, not gonna lie,” he bit his lip, trying to contain his laughter as you were about to lose your composure at any moment.

“You aggravate me, and I don’t know why,” you mumbled, hoping he didn’t hear—but he did, loud and clear. “Jeon Jungkook,” he said, and before you could reply, the professor strode in, wearing the weirdest clothes you could imagine.

“She looks like that one crazy Victorious teacher,” he whispered softly, only for you to hear, smugly bending downward so you could hear better. A small laugh left your lips. “Sikowitz?” you whispered back as both of you stared forward at the professor, who was talking about the syllabus. “Yeah, spot the difference: hard level,” he whispered.

You looked down at your hands, trying to hide the amusement on your face.

For the rest of the class, you guys didn’t talk whatsoever, and honestly, you wouldn’t know if he tried, since you were absorbed in whatever Mrs. Calderon was saying.

“So, here’s where you start hating me, I’m giving you guys a project,” she said, leaning on her desk, making the desk creak. You could hear small groans from students around you, but not loud enough for her to hear.

“It will be a partner project, which I chose randomly, and no, I’m not changing them. I want you guys to be able to work with whomever, no matter what,” she said, a sense of dread passing through you.

“I would email each and every one of you what the project is about. It is due at the end of the quarter, so I better not hear, ‘I didn’t have time, Miss,’” Mrs. Calderon said before picking up a sheet of paper.

"Here are the partners, so after class, come and check who your partner is so you can start talking about what you both will do." With that the bell ringing, everyone stood up and rushed to the paper, including yourself. You held tightly onto your backpack strap as you waited for people to move out of the way—half of the people bitched about who they got, they couldn’t possibly be that bad.

Your heart dropped to your ass as you read your name—Jungkook squished beside you, looking for his name, only to find it where your finger was already on.

You got paired up with Jungkook. What kind of fuckery was this?

As Jungkook read "Y/n Y/ln & Jeon Jungkook," he couldn’t believe his eyes. He almost lost his mind when he realized it was you when he sat next to you, but he tried his best to act unaffected. However, this was too much of a "fuck you" sign from the universe—Jungkook didn’t think he did something so horribly to be rewarded like this.

What the fuck were the odds, and how could he scientifically prove that it’s not the universe trying to mess with him?

Taglist💌— @httpjeonlicious @thekookiedealer @somehowukook @taiwan0618 @gwsjungkookie @seokout @sealuv79 @junecat18 @joonsanswer @letjungcoook7 @skzthinker @ahgasegotarmy116recs @ivygguk (I couldn’t add some idk why😓)

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bunnwich · 4 months

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It's Supposed to Be Fun

(a letter to my friends in the twst fandom)

I've been wanting to make this post for a while and these thoughts may seem scattered but I’m gonna try to express them.

Lately, I have seen many friends and moots that either are leaving the fandom or feel guilty over not having posted in a while or losing interest in twst. On the other side, I also have friends being harassed.

This a reminder to remember why you joined this community to begin with. I know that keeping up with the fast-moving pace of fandom and comparing ourselves to others, can skew our perspective on these things.

It’s supposed to be fun.

Why do we post art or write? Sure, partly for recognition, there's no denying that. But, why do we create, I mean really? For enjoyment. Not for others, not to be “popular” FOR JOY.

So, whether you’re dealing with people critiquing you or feeling guilty about not creating. My question is this: Why waste so much of your time on something that makes you miserable?

Did it stop being fun? Why? Haters? Loss of interest?

To my friends who feel guilty for not creating and not sure if they lost interest in twst:

Don’t feel guilty. At one time, the creation of your twst content was natural. It's what you did for fun with friends or for yourself. Revisit that mindset and think - if creating twst content now will bring that same joy it did before.

If the answer is no, then maybe it’s time to pivot. It’s okay for interests to fade. It doesn’t mean that time, memories, or the friends you made are lost. Connect with your friends, we will understand! We still love you! It's not a race there's no time limit, just pick up were you want to. Draw fanart of old events or OCs.

To my friends who have been harassed:

I say this with sincerity…. People who harass others over fictional characters are fucking losers.

Like… There’s no other eloquent way to encapsulate it. I’m starting to not care for the reason anymore - If you harass or be shady to others over a ship or fictional character. CONGRATS! YOU ARE A LOSER.

We all join fandoms as a hobby, for fun. We’re all just kids in the sandbox playing pretend again… and if you are the type of person to go up just to “kick the doll out of someone’s hand" or make commentary on how “their way of playing is wrong." You’re a loser. I have a life outside of twst, we all do. Someone saying my ship is wrong or cringe is just so laughable to me. We have to make fun of these people more for being so goddamn lame.

Imagine being so unhappy that when you see someone having fun you HAVE to comment on it. By all means, if it gets you through the day...talk shit to close friends or even post about it on your own blog. (THAT WAS ALWAYS ALLOWED.) Don't bother creators directly. Don't be a loser. I sure see tolerance leave people’s bodies when they see a fandom opinion they don't like. (And this is coming from someone who has lots of opinions on these things! But that's why I always put the disclaimers that, hey this is just MY opinion.)

Discussion is one thing, unhelpful comments are another. We shouldn’t give these people the time of day. Curate your online space. Yes, when you post things online you are subjecting yourself to scrutiny. But, we as creators need to stop letting these people have power over us. Period. We do this for free!! FOR FUN. The best thing you can do is create shamelessly.

Delete weird replies, block whoever you need to do to rid yourself of these people who have nothing better to do. Keep your peace. It’s supposed to be for fun. You don’t owe anyone a response.

The twst fandom is like a little family to me and I guess I feel protective over the people in it? I have made many friends and memories because I joined it. And even dispite a handful of the negative experiences (AKA: A couple of “losers" that I’ve had to deal with.) I’ll always look fondly back on this time.

The key for me has always been to just…create for myself. I originally made bunnwich for me and one friend to make fun little arts about our Yuu’s and now I get to have lots of friends to share it with! I’ve transitioned from an OC blog to probably more of an Oc x Canon blog…but I don’t care tbh. I just…draw what I feel like. I know there are people who probably dislike me for that or feel strange about my content and that’s fine. I’m still gonna keep drawing it, loser.

And I just want you guys to do the same, twst or not.

I can’t forget that all my followers and friends are a bonus, if I had never joined tumblr I’d still be drawing the silly shit I draw in peace. And while yes, I do want to grow as an artist and sell more merch and keep growing... I can’t forget my initial excitement for this silly little game. I like to talk about it. I like to write about it. It inspires me.

It’s supposed to be fun. Please remember that. I know it can be discouraging to have others being shitty to you. Or going through a creative drought. But, try not to let this stop you from creating what you love.

#Anyways just had to get this out #feel free to ignore #I love you guys alot and idk if this is helpful but I hate to see you guys upset #ren speaks🌱#twst

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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 8 months

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The Danger Zone (Part 19) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 4.1k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY.

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Military Inaccuracies; Medical Inaccuracies; Crying; Deployments; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: Life goes on, even though Jake is still deployed.

Series Master List

Master List

Standing in the bathroom, you applied the final touches to your makeup and hair. Sarah had been kind enough to host your baby shower and you were currently trying to think of gifts to get her, Penny, Emma, and Phoenix to thank them for the party.

You put on a pair of earrings that used to belong to your mom. You were getting more and more sentimental and found yourself wearing your mom’s jewelry around more. Heading out to the kitchen, you greeted Mav, who was supposed to drive you.

“You’re not hiding the fact that you know?” Maverick asked, gesturing to your pink dress.

“No, what’s the point?” you replied with a shrug, walking over to your shoes. Sliding on a pair of flats, you added, “Jake knows and that’s all I care about.”

“Well, let’s get going. I’m pretty sure that Penny will have my head if you’re late.”

After a short drive, Maverick pulled into the Kazansky’s driveway. You slowly slid out of the car despite Maverick’s offer to help you and walked into the house. Heading down the hall into the main space, you paused at the entrance.

The room had pink ribbons draped all around. Balloons decorated the corners and streamers framed the windows. They set up tables along the wall and there were already trays of pink cupcakes and other desserts on one of them. Emma and Phoenix were unboxing the catering in the kitchen and Sarah and Penny were finishing up some of the decorations.

“There she is,” Penny called, straightening up. “Happy Baby Shower!” She walked over and pulled you into a hug that you happily returned. “Are you excited?”

“I’m hoping that something interesting happens,” you replied with a small smile. “Thanks for doing all of this for me. And thank you Sarah for hosting.”

“Oh, please, I used to host the most ridiculous naval events here. At least this is a party I’ll actually enjoy,” Sarah mused, accepting your hug with a bright smile. “How’s Baby Girl doing?”

“She’s been pretty quiet today. So, she’ll decide to kick me when I’m least in the mood for it.”

“Are you hungry?” Phoenix asked, walking over and holding out a plate of food to you. “Everything is safe for you to have. Except for the booze, of course.”

“Thanks,” you mused, picking up an hors devour from the plate.

You ate quietly as they walked you through the whole set up. And you quietly kept grabbing little snacks along the way. Staring around at the whole set up, you turned to your family.

“You guys didn’t have to do all of this stuff for me.”

“Don’t start that. You deserve a nice baby shower and you’re getting a nice baby shower,” Phoenix stated firmly, causing you to nod and smile.

“Do you guys need help with anything?”

“No, grab a drink and go relax. People should start getting here in about twenty minutes.”

It wasn’t a huge baby shower, at least compared to some that you had been to before, but you saw so many faces that you hadn’t seen in years. Emma really went through your whole list of contacts. But speaking of Emma, you hadn’t seen much of her.

“Where’s Emma?” you asked Bradley, walking over to where he was standing.

“She ran out to grab something.”

“Is she alright?” you asked worriedly.

“Yeah, she just hasn’t been feeling well lately,” Bradley explained, a note of worry in his tone. “I told her to stay home, but she insisted on coming.”

“Did she go to a doctor?”

“She has an appointment for next week,” Bradley explained quietly. “Thursday. I told her just to go to urgent care or the hospital even if she feels that sick, but she said she wanted to wait. And I don’t want to upset her.”

“I’ll talk to her when she gets back.”

“She’ll just tell you to focus on your party,” Bradley reminded you, but you simply smiled.

“Exactly. It’ll just be part of your gift to me.”

“You couldn’t have told me that before I spent three hours in a baby store for you?”

“Did I mention how I appreciate how supportive you are?” you remarked sarcastically, patting your brother on the shoulder before moving on.

Making your way through the crowd of people to head back inside to be in the air conditioning and to grab some more food, you looked up to see Maverick talking with a group of familiar aviators in the corner of the yard. You turned a bit and made your way over to greet them.

“Well, here’s the woman of the hour,” Maverick announced, causing all of them to turn to you.

“Hi, everyone,” you stated, waving to them. “I wasn’t expecting any of you to make it.” Turning to the man closest to you, you offered him a hug. “How’d you get the time off of work, Uncle Slider? I would have thought you would be flying now.”

“I timed my flights and got an extended layover in San Diego,” Slider replied, returning your hug.

With the exception of Maverick and Iceman, Slider was the aviator who spent the most time with your family. Especially because he retired earlier than either Mav or Ice had. He didn’t have the stories about your dad that Maverick did nor did he provide the same sort of stability that Ice did with Sarah and his family, but he was a pillar in your childhood.

“I thought you said you would stay away from naval aviators,” he joked, gesturing to your bump.

“I know,” you laughed, resting a hand on your back. “But we all make exceptions for the right people.”

“And is it true that you got married already?”

“Right before he left,” you agreed, showing your rings. “It was both a shotgun and a pre-deployment wedding all in one.”

“Well, you know if he ever wants to fly commercially, I can get him in no problem,” Slider offered, causing you to smile.

“Thanks, but I think Jake’s the type to be forced to retire from the Navy.”

“He’s been spending too much time around Mav then?” Slider guessed, nudging Maverick in the side jokingly. “I still can’t believe that you’re actually retired now.”

“Well, I’m needed here now,” Maverick replied, glancing over at you. “And I’d like to enjoy the rest of my time with the kids and Penny.”

As Maverick and Slider continued to talk, you moved around the group. Thanking Hollywood and Wolfman for driving down, you turned to Viper and his wife, who still lived locally despite Viper’s retirement over two decades now.

“It’s been so long,” you remarked, pulling Viper’s wife Linda in for a hug. “How are you?”

“Oh, don’t worry about us. Look at you! You’re so big now,” Linda called, causing Slider to snort. “And pink! You’re having a girl then?”

“Yeah, we’re having a little girl,” you confirmed with a proud smile.

“Congratulations!”

“Thank you.” Turning to Viper, you moved to give him a hug. “And how are we, Admiral?”

“Still strong,” Viper reported, offering you a smile. “And we’re very glad to hear that Jake finally took his responsibilities seriously.”

“Oh?” you asked, confused.

“Marrying you, dear,” Linda explained with a smile.

“Taking responsibility for his actions,” Viper stated bluntly, causing your eyes to widen.

“Right,” you trailed off, nodding with a polite smile.

“Why don’t we see if we can find Bradley then?” Maverick suggested, stepping up beside you. “He’s separating from the Navy, you know.”

“After the hissy fit that he threw about getting in, he’s just leaving like that?” Viper barked out, causing his wife to admonish him.

You shared an amused look with Slider before you headed inside. Chatting with Phoenix and Coyote, you paused when you saw a stressed-looking Emma walk into the kitchen with a few bags. You walked into the kitchen as well, cautiously approaching your obviously skittish sister-in-law.

"Emma?" you called, causing her to whip around.

"Hey, did you need something?" she asked, unpacking a bag.

"No, but did you?" you offered, moving to stand beside her. "You look a little stressed and I don't want you to worry about the party anymore. It's amazing."

"I'm not stressed about the party. I'm just . . . stressed," Emma sighed, avoiding eye contact.

"Is it something with the house?"

"No, it's all fine."

"Is it my stupid brother?"

"No," Emma replied quietly. "Where is he anyway?"

"Getting a lecture from Viper, I think," you stated, glancing out the window. Turning back to Emma, you offered, "You know, I'm here for you. And forget the fact that this is my party. I'm honestly just trying to stay busy so that I can ignore the fact that Jake isn't here."

Emma gave you a sympathetic look and sighed. Looking around, she slowly turned back to you.

"I don't want to ruin your party."

"The Navy ruined my party. What's bothering you?"

"I'm . . . late."

"Late for what?"

Emma shot you a look.

"Oh, sorry. Wait, how late? Like a day?"

"More like . . . sixteen," Emma replied, causing your eyes to widen.

"Have you taken a test?"

"Not yet."

"Go get one."

"I have one. I bought it at the store a month ago and it's been sitting in my glove compartment ever since. But it's your party. Today isn't about me, it's about you and your baby," Emma reminded you quietly. "I'm not going to take the test."

"Even if I tell you that you should," you stated, causing Emma to sigh. "Or at least do it when you get home." After a moment, you asked, "Why have you been avoiding it for this long? You bought the test a month ago and you still haven't taken it?"

"Because then it becomes real," Emma replied, not meeting your gaze. "And we had our plan. We were going to start trying after Bradley separated from the Navy and settled into his new job. And a lot can go wrong in the first few weeks . . . I'm just trying to process it some more."

"Have you told him yet?" Emma shook her head slowly and you offered her a supportive smile in return. "Look, whatever happens, Bradley loves you and I love you and we’ll all be here to support you. And, hey, at least your dad already got the whole threatening phase out of his system. It's smooth sailing in that department."

Emma managed a soft chuckle at the memories, closing her eyes for a moment. The two of you turned when you heard footsteps. Bradley stepped into the kitchen with his sights set on you.

“Penny said it’s time to open presents.”

“Alright, I'll go out there."

You shared a glance with Emma, who nodded quietly, before moving to move past your brother. But before you could make it too far, Bradley gave you a lightly annoyed look.

“And please don't send anyone else to give me a lecture today. Because I barely survived the last one.”

“Viper found you then?” you asked, amused.

“And then talked my ear off with the most disappointed dad look I’ve seen in years.”

“Well, it was either you or me, and it's my party, so it had to be you.”

Glancing between Bradley and Emma, who was already staring at her husband, you headed outside to open your presents. They were all lined up for you by the time that you arrived, and Penny was there to hand you your presents.

Penny and Maverick bought you a beautiful crib. Sarah got you a bassinet and told you that her kids loved it for their own kids. Javy and Nat bought what seemed to be an industrial stroller—Javy insisted that it was going to be necessary given your child’s genes. And you got piles of baby clothes of various sizes, diapers, and some formula.

“And this one seems to be from Emma and Bradley,” Penny stated, handing you a card. “But I don’t know where they are.”

“I think they’re setting up the cake,” you lied, opening the card. Inside was a picture of a rocking chair and an order slip with a promise to have it delivered to your new house. “They got me a rocking chair.”

You were folding a set of baby onesies when Javy walked over with another box for you. You were a little confused but took the present from him anyways.

“You already gave me a gift, Javy. What’s this?”

“See who it’s from,” he replied, before moving to take his seat next to Phoenix.

You flipped the box over and when you read Jake’s name, albeit in Javy’s handwriting, you looked up suddenly. Locking eyes with Javy, who motioned for you to open it, you quickly tore through the wrapping paper. Pulling out a box, you opened it and gently set the cover aside when you saw a photo album inside.

You ran your finger down the leather spine before slow opening the cover. The inside cover was plain, but it had a printed-out email from Jake laid over the top. Picking it up, you smiled to yourself as you read through his short message.

To My Beautiful Wife,

I know that the best gift that I could give you would be being by your side today and every other day, but this is the next best thing that I could think of. Admittedly, this wasn’t actually my idea, though I’m still going to take credit for it, but here’s a collection of memories over the last year. But there’s still plenty of space for the years to come and new memories that we have yet to make together.

I miss you and I love you so much. And tell Baby Girl that I’ll be home soon to feel her kick.

Love,

Your Smoking Hot Husband

“Well,” you croaked out, placing the paper down. “I think I’ll open it later because I don’t want to start sobbing right now.”

“Who wants cake?” Maverick suggested loudly.

You smiled as you wiped a tear away, trying to stay positive. Phoenix walked inside the house to go and grab the cake as Maverick squeezed you into his side.

~~~~~

Jake sat out on the deck of the carrier, staring down at a photo of you and your bump.

It had been about two months since he left you behind and he was counting down the days until he could be there with you and your baby again. There was some talk of a few aviators in his program returning back to the States soon and Jake was doing everything that he could to make sure that he was on that list.

The sun was starting to set below the waves, casting an orange glow over the ship. The steady sea breeze dried the tears on his cheeks, but Jake didn’t move from his spot. Your due date was in three weeks and even though he read that first children were typically born later; he knew that your daughter was a stubborn one and moved to the beat of her own drum.

She would come when she wanted. Not when it was convenient.

“Do you think you can wait just a little longer?” Jake asked the photo of your bump softly. “You know, we still haven’t picked a name for you yet, so if you want a normal name, you should give us a little more time to decide, alright?”

Leaning back against the wall, Jake stared out in the direction of California. He always made sure to know what direction home was. After a moment, Jake pursed his lips together and took a breath.

“I’m coming home. I promise.”

~~~~~

“And just sign there on the bottom line,” your realtor instructed you, handing over a pen.

You slowly signed your name to officially buy your first home. It was also the first time that you fully wrote out your surname as ‘Bradshaw-Seresin,’ but that just left an even more bitter taste in your mouth. It was supposed to be a happy moment, a triumph, a celebration to buy your first family home.

But without Jake here, it just felt like a hollow victory.

“Congratulations, you’re officially a homeowner,” your realtor replied with a kind smile.

“Thank you.”

Your realtor walked off, leaving you standing alone in the middle of your new home. And when the door shut and the sound echoed around the empty space, you instinctively held your new keys to your chest. Bradley and Maverick were coordinating everything to get your apartment officially packed up and brought over. You would have to return to the apartment to return the keys and everything, but you weren't in a rush.

Walking through the house, you silently took in the moment. You ran your hand along the wall as you headed to the front of the house. Slowly stepping up onto the bottom stairs, you rested your hands on your bump.

“Welcome home, Baby Girl,” you murmured, pressing your hand to where she was kicking.

You texted Bradley that everything was signed, and it was time to bring the truck over. You would have moved to unpack the baby stuff that Maverick shoved into your car earlier that morning, but you knew that you would have given Maverick a heart attack if you did, so you simply waited for everyone to arrive.

A knock at the door made you turn to see Emma waving to you through the glass. You slowly waddled over to the door to let her into your home.

“Morning,” she greeted, pulling you in for a hug. She straightened up and offered you a bag. “I brought you breakfast.”

The two of you sat on the lawn furniture that the sellers left for you as part of the sale. You kicked your swollen feet up and balanced your breakfast on your bump, leaning heavily on the couch. Bradley and Maverick, with some help from the other Daggers and other friends, were currently moving your boxes into the house.

“Are you sure that you don’t want to supervise that at all?" Emma asked you, a bit worriedly.

"It's fine," you murmured, dismissing her concerns. "There's no point in fully unpacking. Minus our bedroom, the kitchen, and the baby stuff. We still have to paint and buy new furniture."

“Alright,” Emma replied, not trying to push you.

The topic of your clear mood shift was becoming an increasingly common conversation among your friends and family. Your due date was growing closer, and you were making more and more comments that concerned them. Or tasks that you refused to do without Jake there beside you.

And everyone was quietly worried about what would happen if you went into labor and Jake wasn't home yet. If it was time for your daughter to come out, it was time for her to come out.

“Has she been moving around a lot?” Emma asked conversationally.

“Yes,” you sighed, sounding exhausted. “She kicked my ribs yesterday and knocked the wind out of me.” Offering a small smile to Emma, you added, “Things for you to look forward to.”

“I’m trying to survive the first trimester,” Emma chuckled nervously.

“I hope you have a girl too,” you spoke softly with a smile, resting your hands on your bump. “They’re only going to be about six or seven months apart.”

“I know. But I think we’re going to wait until they're born to find out. My sisters did and my parents were always so excited to find out at the hospital, so I want to do that with our baby.”

“Have you told any of them that you’re expecting?”

“No, not yet. We’re going to take a trip up to see them after you have your baby and we’ll tell them then. I wanted to do it in person.”

You smiled and nodded, finishing up your breakfast. After chatting for a little bit more, you headed inside the house for the cooler air. You were temporarily living in the first-floor guest bedroom and that room was your main priority.

“Did you want all of it in the nursery or down here?” Phoenix asked, setting down the last box of baby stuff.

“Down here is fine for now.”

“Did you want us to set up anything for you?” Javy asked, standing beside his wife.

“No, I’m alright. We already got the car seat installed and that’s the most important thing right now. We can put together the rest of it when Jake gets home.” Slowly standing up again, you sent Javy and Phoenix a small smile. “Thanks for your help.”

As you waddled off to the kitchen to help Penny and Maverick, Phoenix and Coyote shared a concerned look.

“She’s not herself,” Coyote told his wife quietly.

"She's in her last trimester and her first few months of marriage. And her husband isn't here." Phoenix sighed, watching you with concern. "And everyone has their breaking point."

~~~~~

Dear Jake,

We moved into the house today. Maverick is sleeping on the sofa to keep an eye on me. I think that he thinks that I’m going to go into labor soon. Which I’m not. Baby Girl is snug and comfortable, and I have a feeling that she’s going to take her time coming out. Bradley and I were both late babies, so I’m sure that she’ll follow the trend.

I had them leave all of the baby stuff on the first floor for now. We can set up the nursery when you’re home with us. It didn’t feel right setting it up without you here.

Baby Girl is keeping me up again. She’s been kicking and now she’s even ignoring your warnings to go to bed. I have a feeling that she’s going to be payback for all of the crap that I put my mom and Mav through. Isn’t that what they say anyways?

I miss you. Come home soon and safely.

Love,

Your Wife

~~~~~

At nearly thirty-nine weeks pregnant, there was no other way to describe your existence beside ‘uncomfortable.’ You were pretty sure that you resembled a penguin or a seal lion with the stupid way that your bump made you walk. And your stomach had ballooned out to make you look all the more ridiculous as you went through the last few days of your pregnancy.

And fucking hell, your back was killing you.

“Why don’t you sit down?” Maverick suggested as you wiped down the countertops. “You’ve been walking around all morning.”

“I'm fine, Mav.”

“Did you sleep well last night?”

“No,” you muttered, tossing the paper towel into the trash. “I couldn’t get comfortable.”

“Maybe you should try taking a nap.”

“I’m fine, Mav,” you repeated as the laundry machine went off. Waddling over despite Maverick's call that he could fold the laundry, you rested a hand on your back. “I'm just a little restless.”

“I’ll fold all of that. You should eat.”

Sending Maverick an annoyed look, you handed off the laundry and made you way over to the couch. While Maverick was focused on the laundry, you let out a quiet moan of pain, leaning having on the couch. Resting your hand on your back, you took a few deep breaths before sitting down. You kicked your feet up just as Penny walked through the door.

“How are you feeling today, Mama?” Penny asked, walking over to you with a container of food.

“Pregnant. Very pregnant.”

“You’re in the final stretch now," Penny assured you, offering a maternal smile. "And I brought you some food. It shouldn’t get your heartburn to act up.”

“Thanks.”

Slowly getting up from the couch, you made your way over to the table. Maverick walked over and held the chair for you as you sat down. He had turned into a bit of a helicopter parent over the last week or so and you were too tired to fight him on it. You managed a few bites, before you got up.

"You don't want anymore?"

"I'll be back," you replied, waddling away. "Just need to . . ."

You froze when a gush of liquid suddenly soaked your shorts and pooled on the floor below you. Clutching your bump in fear, you gave Penny and Mav a deer in the headlights look that caused them to jump up and spring into action. Mav steadied you carefully as Penny slowly assessed the situation.

“Okay, it looks like your water just broke. We need to get you to the hospital. The baby’s coming.”

And you couldn’t help but immediately burst out into tears.

A.N. And the baby's coming! But just wanted to give everyone a heads up that this story does not end once the baby is born. There's still more to come. Thanks, and I hope you'll stick around for more!

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https-alberich · 1 month

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CW: Reader is almost assulted. Mentions of spreading rumours. Reader discretion is advised.

Notes: Guys I'm so excited to work on Kyle's fic. I might only stop at 3 OCs. Any more is too many.

Cheerleader yandere who takings her friends, looking at all the new lip gloss shades from her favourite makeup brand.

Cheerleader yandere who notices you getting cornered by some creep in one of the aisles.

Cheerleader yandere who storms right over, kicks the guy in the gut with her heel.

“And look at this shade! Isn’t it pretty?” Cassie smiled. “Oh, Dei come here! I found the perfect one for you.” She quickly tugged on one of her friend’s arms and pulled her towards the swatching station, comparing assorted colours. “No. this one’s too dark...” She pursed her lips, deep in thought. A scuffle coming from one of the aisles snaps her out of her train of thought. Cassie balled her fists and shoved people out of the way, walking over to where you were trying to push off a man grabbing at you. He barely sees it coming when a heeled foot connects with stomach, making him double over in pain.

Cheerleader yandere who curses him out and reaches out to make sure you’re ok.

Cheerleader yandere who offers to walk you to where you need to go.

Cheerleader yandere who holds the umbrella over your head, ignoring the way her shoulder becomes wet by the rain.

“You sure you, ok?” Cassie asked you for the millionth time, looking over at you, the minute she saved you, she had been attached to your hip, her hand gripped yours, it was tight. Like she was trying to bruise you, mark you as hers. You had reassured her, telling her that you were fine, and that she really didn’t need to do this, but the woman insisted. Telling you that she was no longer in the mood for shopping. She needed to make sure her angel was safe.

Cheerleader yandere who invites you to her table during lunch.

Cheerleader yandere who glares at anyone who speaks up about it.

Cheerleader yandere who will personally feed you herself.

Cassie giggled, holding a spoonful of rice up to your face. “Open up darling.” She cooed, green eyes carefully watching as you parted your lips and took the spoonful of rice in your mouth. It was good, not too salty, not too spicy either. A good ‘middle ground.’ Cassie giggled and brushed away some hair from your face. “There we go, angel. You’re so pretty you know.” She whispered, leaning in to kiss your cheek, leaving a clear pink sparkly glob of lip-gloss on your face. “My cute little angel…”

Cheerleader yandere who insists that you come to all her practise sessions.

Cheerleader yandere who will not hesitate to move around some of her friends if your eyes linger too long on them.

Cheerleader yandere who wants your eyes on her. And her only.

Cassie grins when you cheered for her, chapping your hands to the thump of the beat as the girls perform for you. Your eyes slid over each member, watching them dance in turn. But your eyes always landed back on Cassie. Just like you were supposed to. Like the good little angel, you are. You didn’t want a repeat of the Molly situation. Staring a little too long at the girl had Cassie whispering the worst rumours that could’ve possibly plagued the school. You caught her one time, whispering something into her friend’s ear. When she noticed you watching, her brilliant green eyes gleamed and her lips curled into a grin.

Cheerleader yandere who will socially ruin anyone’s life if they think about touching you.

Cheerleader yandere who wants to spoil her little angel.

Cheerleader yandere who wants to claim you as hers.

All hers.

Taglist: @mono273

#🔪 . . . [save] . .#yandere oc #yandere #yandere girl #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere girlfriend #yandere x darling #yandere scenarios #yandere female #female yandere #yanblr #darling x yandere #desperate yandere #tw yandere #x reader #yandere cheerleader

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jeankluv · 4 months

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But daddy I love him - Gojo Satoru [ch.03]

short series

summary: If there was a phrase that could describe you, it was; good girl. You had been a good girl all your life, following your father's orders and being as modest as possible. You had focused your entire life on being a perfect lady, one who could be a good wife in the future. This is how you had been raised and how you had been instructed. But your whole world was shaken when one warm summer morning, your eyes met the bold, defiant and sharp gaze of a young man with white hair.

tags of the series: + 18, female!reader, set in 1700s-1800s, loss of virginity, misogyny language and thinking, oral sex, fingering, innocent oc, unsafe sex, semi-public sex, vaginal sex, manipulative, eating disorders, abusive parents, no use of y/n.

ch.01 | ch.02 | ch.03 | ch.04 | ch.05 | epilogue

Jujutsu Kaisen materialist

Notes: Spicy scenes are really not my thing but it’s always good to try and write new things. Hope everyone enjoys this chapter, as you see the chapters went from 4 to 5 bc there are still things that I know won’t fit in one chapter more.

words: 4,3k

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Your body was burning compared to Satoru's. He had taken your hand delicately and had begun to lower it to your intimacy. You were nervous, extremely nervous, you had never done that and throughout the afternoon you had tried to remember that you were doing it as a form of revenge against your parents and also because you wanted to explore this facet of your intimacy that you had never experienced.

“Relax…” He whispered. “You are really tense and it might hurt if you don’t relax.”

“Right.” You nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, angel. It’s normal.” He kissed your kiss. “Now.” He began. “I want you to take your underwear away with your hand, okay angel?” He whispered against your ear.

You nodded, feeling shame fill your body. With his hand still holding yours, you moved your fingers and caught the fabric that covered your privacy to move it aside.

“Good girl.” You felt him smile against you. “Now I want you to pass your fingers through your vagina, can you do that?" He whispered and you just nodded.

The pads of your fingers were cold but quickly warmed up as they came into contact with your intimacy. At the new sensation you shrank your legs, but Satoru put them back in his position. With a small whisper he told you to caress yourself and with your heart pounding in your chest and the nervousness invading your body, you did so.

From your legs to the last hair on your head they trembled with pleasure when you began to rub. You could feel how with each touch of your fingers, your body became hotter and hotter, asking and pleading for you to continue giving it that pleasure.

You arched your back when you touched a sensitive spot with your fingers. And felt Satoru grab your hip with his free hand and pull you closer to him. Without being able to help it, you moaned and Satoru began to leave a trail of kisses on the back of your neck.

It was an embarrassing sight but it felt too good to stop, too good to refuse. You wanted more.

Satoru stopped your hand and you look at him confused. “We will continue with the next step.” You swallowed nervously about what it could be and Satoru's hand guided yours lower. “You will put your finger in, alright?”

“What?” You said confused and scared.

“It’s alright angel, that way you will get stretched out and when we do it, it won’t hurt that much.” He tried to calm you down while carefully kissing your skin. “Trust me.”

You wanted to trust him and his words, but that didn't stop you from trembling with nervousness even more when you felt his fingers brush your entrance.

Satoru assured you that you would be fine and that you could do it without fear. You squeezed your eyes shut and with your trembling hands you inserted a finger, feeling a spasm run through you.

“It’s okay…” He whispered. “Now move it.” And you followed his orders.

Shockwaves started to run through your back with each movement of your finger inside of you. And the moans that you couldn't hold back began to escape your mouth, but luckily they were muffled by Satoru's warm lips.

You continued to pleasure yourself in your intimate area while Satoru did not stop devouring your mouth. You felt like you were in heaven, that you could fly and that you were capable of anything.

He pulled away from you and looked into your eyes, your cheeks were wet from the pleasure and you could see him smile. “Now insert another one.” You swallowed when you heard his order, another finger? Wouldn't that be too much?

But Satoru had told you that this way when you did it it wouldn't hurt as much. Truth be told, you had felt his cock against your ass, and he wasn't small. When you first noticed it, a shiver ran through your body thinking about how you would be able to endure it.

You swallowed and inserted another finger into yourself. More spasms ran through your body and this time Satoru grabbed your hand and started moving it himself.

You moaned and you held on to the sheets of your messy bed. “Satoru… slow…” You tried to pronounce but the moans prevented you from saying a word.

You leaned your head back and rested it on Satoru's shoulder as he continued to move your fingers, in and out. Shockwaves ran through your body with every movement and you felt like you were reaching what they called orgasm. You had heard about it, in the books they always mentioned how it was a kind of culmination to the act.

You closed your legs and curled up as you held on to Satoru's arm with your free hand, saying his name between moans. You felt even wetter and as your whole body had reached that “peak.” Your chest was rising and falling agitatedly, you were extremely exhausted.

Satoru let go of your hand and you took out your fingers, feeling like they were completely wet. “You did extremely well angel.” He placed his lips on your hair and left a soft kiss.

He carefully moved away from behind you and laid you down on the bed. You looked at him confused and Satoru noticed your frown.

“As much as I want to continue and make love to you with this amazing moonlight watching us, you are exhausted.” He laid down next to you. “And the first time it’s always exhausting, so I don't want to exhaust you anymore.”

You looked at, observing his blue eyes being even more intense with the moonlight. “But… I’m not exhausted.” You tried to convince him. “I can handle it”

“Your tired eyes say otherwise.” He ran his hand over your face and then grabbed your hair. “If it's for fear that they might kick me out, don't worry angel, that won't happen.” A shy smile spread across your face. “Tomorrow, tomorrow we will do it, okay?” You just nodded and leaned against his bare chest.

Satoru put his arm around your back and pulled you closer to him, and with that simple act you felt the butterflies again and your chest vibrated. You closed your eyes, being embraced by the warmth of Satoru’s body and feeling safe in a very long time.

When you opened them up again you were met with the coldness of your bed, Satoru was already gone and a sadness settled in your chest when you didn't wake up next to him.

With your body still heavy and tired after last night, you got out of bed and walked to the window so you could watch the sea. If there was something you undoubtedly loved, it was being able to enjoy that view every day. You walked over to your dresser to brush your hair and there you found a small letter. Your heart skipped a beat when you realized that it was something you hadn't left behind. You quickly picked it up and began to read carefully.

“My dear angel,

Don’t worry if you wake up and I’m not next to you. I would have liked to stay with you until you opened those beautiful eyes of yours but I couldn't risk them finding us. As much as I want to be with you, in every sense of the word, I don't want that to put you in danger. We will see each other today my beautiful angel and at night I will visit you again. With love S.G.”

You brought the letter closer to your chest and sighed, feeling his words sink into you one by one. You looked in the mirror and for the first time in a long time you saw a version of yourself that you thought was gone, a happy and healthy version. You smiled widely and carefully put the letter away in your dresser drawer and began to get ready until Rose arrived.

Rose came through your door at the same time she always did and like every day she helped you get ready. You would go for a walk with her on the beach and then you would go to the town market. You wanted to see if they had brought any new books to the bookstore you used to frequent since you were a child.

As you left your room your eyes began to search for a tall, white-haired figure, but you couldn't find him. With a grimace you left the house and walked down the path that led to the beach.

You and Rose walked along the beach, listening to the sound of the waves and the laughter of the children who had come to play.

You looked at Rose who was looking lovingly at the children playing in the sand and you dared to ask her.

“Rose, do you want to be a mother?” Rose laughed and touched her cheeks.

“Is it that obvious, my lady?” You nodded subtly with a smile on your face. “Me and Jack have been trying for a while, but the blessing hasn't come to us yet.” She made a face and you looked at her with a sad face. “And what about you my lady? Do you desire to be a mother?”

You thought it for a moment and you had always wanted to be a mother, but as you became an adult you saw what was happening around you and you did not want to bring a child into the world who was not loved by their parents or who was born in a loveless marriage.

But now, the idea of marrying the duke and the possibility of starting a family with him was something that filled your heart and made you very excited. Was it possible that you had fallen in love with the duke? But all the signs you always read in your books, like; The butterflies in your stomach, the blushing when you were with him, the searching for him at every moment and imagining a future with him, were there.

“My lady?” Rose called you out.

“Sorry Rose.” You smiled. “But yeah I would like it.”

“Yours and the duke’s babies would be the cutest, I’m sure my lady.” You blushed at the thought of it. “But I’m kinda sad that once you marry the duke I will have to say goodbye to you my lady.”

"Come with me." You said holding her hand. “Your husband can also come, I will talk to the duke to give him a decent job and you can both start a family there.” You stared at her. “But Rose, I need you with me.”

Rose smiled. “Thank you so much my lady, honestly there wouldn’t be anything that would make me happier than to go with you.”

You smiled widely and gently hugged Rose. You practically considered her your family and you didn't want to leave her behind if you ended up leaving with the duke. Together you walked to the town and began to explore the countless stores there were. Your eyes scanned every corner looking for something that caught your attention.

“My lady.” You heard Rose speaking behind you. “I need to go and buy something for the kitchen, will you be fine by your own?”

“Yeah don’t worry.” You smiled. “I will go to the small library to search for new books.” Rose bowed and rushed to the food market.

You watched her disappear into the crowd and walked towards the small bookstore where you had spent many hours. Upon entering you were greeted by the sound of the bell that adorned the ceiling and then by the gentle purring of the cat that lived there. Mrs. Swift, the owner of the store, had rescued him when he was a baby and he had lived there with her ever since.

You greeted Mrs. Swift with a sweet smile and began to explore the shelves in search of a book to buy and add to your collection and also to enter a new world and escape from your reality. Although lately, your reality was more than interesting since a certain person arrived.

Reaching the back of the store you grabbed one of the books from the shelves and began to read the first pages, entering his world. You were so deep that you didn't hear the sound of the bell echoing through the store and the footsteps approaching you. So much so that you didn't realize the presence of someone else next to you, until he took the book from your hands.

“What?” You murmured surprised.

“What book is it this time, angel?” That piercing voice and charming nickname pierced your skin and made your pulse race.

With his wide smile, where two dimples were drawn on each side and his white hair, you felt yourself melt. You felt a small blush spread across your cheeks as you remembered the heated night you spent together and the promise he threw into the air to spend this night together again.

“Duke…”

He shook his head and corrected you. “Satoru. I told you right?”

“Yes, but we are in public.” You said, feeling shy.

“There is no one else in the library angel. I told the lady to leave.” He leaned close to your ear and whispered. “It’s just you and me, angel.”

His breath hitting your ear caused your legs to feel like jelly and your body to weaken for an instant. Satoru noticed it and smirked to himself, holding you from the waist and crashing both of your bodies together, he started to leave wet kisses on your neck.

You squeezed your legs together as you noticed how the tingling and heat began to arise in that area. That was embarrassing but it felt too good and you didn't want it to stop. Satoru lowered his hand and gently squeezed your thigh causing a moan to escape your lips.

“I wonder how wet you are under this beautiful dress of yours?” He whispered to your ear, raising your dress little by little.

“S-Satoru…” You moaned as you felt his fingertips getting closer to your upper thigh.

“What angel? Tell me…” He said kissing your neck.

You gasp feeling his cold hand grabbing your thigh. “I…” You needed something, you needed his touch, his fingers, him. You needed to feel like last night. “Please Satoru…” You murmured under your shaky breath.

“What angel? Just say it.” He smiled against your hot skin.

“Touch me…”

Satoru grinned and started touching your pussy above your underwear, you could feel that with each touch you were getting wetter and wetter. Satoru with his fingers separated the fabric and carefully gently inserted his fingers. Having two of his fingers inside you caused you to lose your balance and lean against one of the shelves behind you.

His fingers were thicker and longer than yours, they penetrated your interior, causing your walls to open before them. He moved his fingers inside you as if it were almost natural for him, causing every part of your body to vibrate under his touch.

Every time you felt wetter, hotter, more eager. Satoru was introducing you to a forbidden world full of lust.

“Satoru…” You felt your walls opening as he introduced a third finger. “Oh…”

You felt so full, it was painful at first but your walls adjusted to him with every movement of his hand.

“You are about to cum right?” He whispered.

“Mhmm…” You nodded, feeling your cunt trembling with each movement around Satoru’s fingers.

Finally with a push against your walls you came on his fingers, more intensely than yesterday. Satoru with a smile took his fingers out of you and tasted them, you blushed when you saw his act.

“So good my dear.” He said before kissing you.

“Satoru.” He hummed against your lips. “My parents are out today, we… we could be together.”

“You want us to be together at the house?” You nodded feeling how your cheeks turned red once again. “My sweet angel, aren’t you the most beautiful?” He said pinching your cheeks. “Alright but let’s walk around the market.”

“But what if someone…”

“Angel. I know no one knows who you really are.” You closed your mouth. “The daughter of the richest man of this town is a mystery for everyone, that’s why you are able to walk around so freely because no one knows who you are.” He closed the distance between you. “And no one knows you I am, so let’s walk around without caring and then head home where I will undress you in your bedroom and make love to you.”

You gasped at his words and felt your body burning hot. Satoru shook your world with every word, every gesture and every act he did. Not only your world, your heart also looked agitated and became increasingly agitated.

Satoru gently grabbed your hand and guided you out of the bookstore, together you began to walk through the market, going unnoticed and feeling completely free.

“You want one?” Satoru whispered to your ear.

“Huh?” You looked at him confused, you were daydreaming about your feeling for Satoru that you totally forgot about your reality.

“A cake, you want one?” He pointed to them.

“Oh…” You were actually a bit hungry but mother would scold you if she knew. “I’m fine.” You smiled at him.

Satoru held your gaze for a moment and then turned away. “Two of these cakes please.” You looked at him surprised and tried to stop him. "Thank you." He took the two cakes and turned to you with a smile. “Here, you'll like it, you'll see.”

“But…” You said, feeling the weight of the words on your shoulders. "I don't want to."

“You don't want to or you can't?” He questioned you with a serious look.

“I’m not hungry.” You tried to lie.

“Angel, you are with me.” He said with his tone firm. “You don’t have to contain yourself and if you want to eat this then do it.”

You took the cake and look at it, feeling your stomach roar. Hesitantly you took a bite of the cake and felt in heaven. You couldn't remember the last time you had eaten something sweet.

“That’s my girl.” He said proudly.

You blushed momentarily at Satoru's nickname, didn't he get tired of treating you with so much affection and causing your stomach to do a dance of butterflies? He grabbed your hand again and you continued walking, until finally Rose saw you and approached you.

“My lady.” She bowed and then looked at Satoru. “Duke Gojo, hello.” She once again bowed at him.

“Hello.”

“My lady, I think we should head back home.” She smiled at you.

“Oh… yeah sure.” You nodded.

Your hand was still under Satoru’s touch, he wouldn’t let your hand go even if Rose was there. The three of you walked back to the house. When you were near the house Satoru stopped dead and let go of your hand. You turned to look at him, confused by his sudden action.

“I better go somewhere else, angel.” He said moving closer to your cheek and leaving your kiss on it. “See you now in your room.” He whispered against your skin making all your hair stand on end.

Satoru left before you could say anything, you watched his back walk away until he finally disappeared from your sight. You felt an emptiness in your heart, you wanted to hold his hand again and have him close to you. But it would only be a few minutes and you would be together.

You turned around and saw Rose smiling at you. "What…?" You whispered, embarrassed.

“You just look happy, my lady. I’m happy to see it."

You nodded blushing. “Thank you…” You began to walk towards the entrance of the house, while your heart was beating strongly in your chest. “Rose, when we get home, make sure no one comes near my room.” Rose nodded. “Only you can approach in case my parents return early.”

“It's okay my lady.”

You entered the house and were greeted by some of the employees, looking at Rose you communicated silently and Rose ordered that no one bother you during the day, nor that they come near your room. Cautiously you went up to the room, meeting the figure of the man who was changing your entire world.

You closed the door, making the click of the key sound through the room. You swallowed hard as you realized what you were going to do. You turned on your heels and Satoru was looking at you with a smile and his jacket already off.

“I love that dress of yours, angel, but I would prefer to see you without anything on.” His husky voice echoed the room, sending chills down your spine.

You looked down at your dress and taking a deep breath, you released the tie behind your dress and took off the straps, letting the dress fall to the floor.

The sun streamed through the window, making it impossible to hide yourself since the room was extremely bright. Satoru gently approached you and cradled your face in his hands.

“You are so damn beautiful.” He said before starting to devour your lips.

You couldn't get enough of his kisses, his flavor and his warmth, they were addictive and you wanted them in every part of your being.

Satoru picked you up and carried you to your bed where he gently left you. Looking at you with eager eyes he began to remove your underwear leaving you completely naked.

You felt embarrassed as you stood completely naked before him. He had already seen your breasts and touched you down there, but having his hungry eyes look at you like they did at that moment was different.

Satoru also started to undress himself and you swallowed seeing him completely naked before you. Your body was burning and you wanted it to be touched by the man in front of you.

“I will be gentle, okay?” He murmured, holding his member with his hand and lining it up with your entrance.

You just nodded, still trembling about what was going to happen in that room. Satoru carefully began to introduce his member into you and you noticed how your walls opened, causing you to close your eyes against the pain that that new sensation was causing you.

Satoru rested his forehead against yours and began to whisper to you. “It's okay angel. The pain will soon go away.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and felt how he entered you more and more until he stopped.

“When you’re ready I'll move, okay?” He placed a soft kiss on your temple.

Your chest rose and fell heavingly as you tried to get used to Satoru's member. Your body was burning completely and you needed more. You always believed that when your first time happened, you would feel dirty but at that moment and as the hands of the clock moved you felt better and better.

“Move…” You whispered against his lips. “Please Satoru.”

“Alright my angel.” He smiled.

And that's when he started to move inside you and you swore you could touch the sky with your fingers. Each thrust was better than the last. You rolled your eyes back feeling the immense pleasure that Satoru was causing in you.

His member came and went in, again and again and with each one of them the moans from your lips became louder and louder.

Satoru began to leave kisses down your neck until he reached your breasts where he attacked them with bites and pinches.

“Satoru…” You moaned, when with his free hand started to play with your clit, giving you even more pleasure than before.

Your face was soaked with sweat and tears of pleasure that fell from your eyes. If you continued at that pace you would reach your climax right away.

“You are such a bad girl, my lovely angel.” He smirked looking at you. “Moaning out loud like that, when everyone could hear you.” He approached your face with a mischievous smile on his face. “Is that what you want, angel? Do you want everyone to hear how I fuck you and how much you enjoy it?”

You moaned at his words. “Ah… Satoru please.”

“What angel?” He smiled. “Tell me.”

“Don’t stop please.” You hugged him, feeling your bodies become one.

Satoru began to move faster and harder making your entire body simply vibrate with each thrust. With each of his movements you could feel his member throbbing inside you, just as you were about to reach his climax.

Satoru grabbed your hips and sat you on him, causing his member to penetrate you even deeper and sending shockwaves throughout your body. You grabbed onto his shoulders and instinctively moved your hips, wanting to climax.

Moans filled the room as you bounced on him up and down, feeling how every inch of your interior was getting filled.

A moan died in your throat as you came on his member, Satoru kept thrusting until he finally came inside of you too. For a few moments neither of you moved, you stayed hugging his body and Satoru stayed with his head resting on your shoulder trying to catch his breath.

He carefully pulled out of you and lay down next to you. With your faces looking at each other you smiled, feeling a peace that you hadn't felt in a long time.

“I love you…” You murmured without any hesitation, you didn't want to keep that feeling to yourself for much longer.

Satoru looked at you surprised for a moment, but then his features relaxed and he smiled widely to move closer to you and plant a soft kiss on your lips. “Me too my angel.”

That day you fell asleep hugging each other, with your skin completely touching. You felt that after that your whole ordeal in that house would end, that nothing would matter anymore and that if you were with Satoru everything would be fine.

🏷️: @catobsessedlady @zoeyflower @satoracyxys @lavender-hvze @slashersgirlypop @tinydonkeysforlife @oddball08

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