#I hate being sad I think it’s all in my head but I don’t know where else to go

[bekolxeram]

Everyone decides to be sad about Tommy spending the holidays alone today. I just want to say, I hate you all. Especially @mmso-notlikethat with this post. As payback for making me cry my way into insomnia, I wrote this on my phone instead of sleeping.

By the time he knocks on the door, Tommy still has no idea what to expect. “Wear something nice, we’re celebrating tonight,” that’s the only instruction he’s received from Evan, his boyfriend once again. Tommy can’t help but smile at the mere thought of finally allowing himself to say that name.

He has a burgundy dress shirt on with a pair of light grey slim fit pants. Simple, but elegant, hopefully properly dressed for this undisclosed commemoration. March is not known for its holidays, so what’s the occasion that calls for such festivity? They did meet last March at the cruise ship rescue, maybe that was it? Or perhaps Evan is having some sort of career advancement? They’ve been back together for just a few weeks, there’s simply not enough time for Tommy to catch up on Evan’s ever so eventful life. To that, Tommy silently mourn the time they’ve lost, due to his own cowardice.

“Hey — Hey,” Evan takes a step outside of the door to greet Tommy with a quick peck on the lips. Tommy lets the younger man drag him into the loft without much reaction, because he’s still confused by the sight in front of him: Evan in his usual navy blue button up, dark jeans and… a Christmas hat?

Inside the loft is a jumble of sparkly festive decorations. To his left, he sees “Happy Birthday Tommy”; to his right, “Merry Christmas”; and deeper into the living space, “Happy New Year”.

“Jee and Mara helped setting these up,” Evan says while taking half of a roast turkey out of the oven. “This one is from Bobby. He said half a bird is enough for the two of us, if we don’t want to suffer through leftover for the next 7 days.” He then sets the tray next to some roasted vegetables and a casserole. “The casserole is from Chimney, but I’m pretty sure it’s Maddie’s recipe. Hen got you a cake. I think she said something about being sure you would like it. We can have it for dessert. Oh, and the champagne is from…”

“Eddie, because he can’t cook.” Tommy cuts in.

“Exactly!”

“Evan, what’s going on here?”

Evan steps closer, taking both of Tommy’s hands into his own, “You told me the other day that you spent your 40th birthday alone… I only realized later that you were probably on your own for the entire holiday season, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year, Valentine’s Day. I know it doesn’t come close to the real thing, but I was thinking maybe we could make up for a few key moments that we missed.” He dims the lights in the loft with a remote control and fiddles with something on the dining table. Suddenly, the whole room is lit up with colorful patterns and twinkling stars. “I couldn’t get any firework around here, so I borrowed this star projector from Christopher.”

“Oh… Evan,” Tommy sighs, eyes already hazy with tears.

“I’m not asking you to move in with me or to make major commitments. I’m not asking for anything in return at all. This is… a promise, from me to you. No matter what happens, what becomes of us in the future, I’ll be there when you need me, we all will.”

Evan says earnestly, with utmost conviction in his tone. The clarity in his eyes reminds Tommy of that day at the café terrace, almost a year ago. “I just want you to know, Tommy, you’re no longer alone.”

A few drops of tears escape Tommy’s eyes, but before he can respond, Evan pulls out a mistletoe from his pocket and dangles it over their heads.

“You have to kiss me now.” Evan says with a cheeky grin. Tommy waits no time to capture those smiling lips with his own, kissing him with all the love and gratitude in his heart.

“I love you, Evan. I’m so lucky to have you.” Tommy pulls him into a warm embrace.

“I love you too.” Now it’s Evan’s turn to tear up.

Tommy pulls back a little and asks, “hey, would you mind if we celebrate Valentine’s Day first?”

“Oh, you mean you’re interested in the Valentine’s Night activity?”

“Depends on what you have in mind.”

“Come upstairs. I’ll show you.”

[ninjastormhawkkat]

“I’m afraid we all can’t go together.” Tristan exclaimed, interrupting Matthew before he could say anything. “What do you mean, hun?” Gene asked his husband. Tristan held up the transmitter box for everyone to see. A screen on the box was showing a single dot. “I was checking the transmitter box to check the directions of the warehouse. I discovered that my brother is not located where I was last. I doubt Alex is there as well.” Tristan then turned to Evangeline. “Does the name Miss Power ring any bells for you?” He asked. Evangeline shook her head. “Then that means Miss Power is holding my brother and other husband somewhere else.” Tristan let out a deep sigh. “As dangerous as these Unspoken ones are, it is important that we save my brother and Alex as well. Who knows how long Miss Power will keep them hostage, especially since she has failed to capture me. I suggest we split up. Different teams handle different tasks. One team rescues Alan and Alex, the other team rescues the hostages in the tubes. I also suggest we don’t focus on fighting Myra and any associates she might have until we have more knowledge of our enemy.” Patricia nodded in agreement. “Tristan is right. Evangeline had no idea Drake was dead until now. Myra could have gotten more allies since Drake’s demise. Plus we don’t have a lot of demonic or angelic fire power on us except for Matthew and Becky who hasn’t shown any of her new powers in recent times. Plus we are down two demon hybrids with Victor on an assignment and Emily dealing with her pregnancy. We would definitely need Victor’s skills for an assault on the warehouse. Also Melina is a pacifist despite being part demon. That just leaves Gene. Another downside to Evangeline’s plan is that our knowledge on the Unspoken Ones only come from books and texts. Neither of us have any in-depth knowledge. I think our best option is just to do a rescue mission for the warehouse and worry about an assault for later.” Patricia exclaimed. Matthew nodded in agreement. “Then it’s settled. We’ll create two teams for each mission. Focus on rescuing the people over fighting the bad guys.” Matthew looked Evangeline directly in the eyes. “Sebastian taught me that.” He sneered at her. Evangeline had a remorseful look. “I know, he was a better teacher to you than any of us heroes.” She commented with a sad smile. “He was more than just a teacher.” Matthew retorted. “Okay, so how are we going to handle this?” Jenkins asked in a serious tone. Matthew turned to Gene. “You know how to handle Miss Power, so you and Tristan can take the charge against her and rescue Alan and Alex. I will lead another team and go with Evangeline to rescue the remaining hostages from the warehouse.” Gene nodded, but still had a worried look. He hated that Victor was stuck with trying to wrap up some strange loose ends from B.E.A.W labs. Gene assured his brother that they would be okay, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt to call him again. Especially since circumstances have changed greatly. Maybe Margaret would allow Victor to help them. Gene was still keeping his sister on the bench due to being pregnant and despite her protests. He did promise her that he would keep her informed on what was happening. “Alright, just be careful. You aren’t as young as you used to be.” Gene lightly teased. Matthew gave his son a reassuring smile and nod. “I’ll go with you as well Maddrix.” Atomic exclaimed aloud. “I can help carry the rest of the trapped people as well and keep an eye on you.” The young man said with a glare. Matthew rolled his eyes. “Okay, just don’t let your hatred towards me get in the way. Okay.” @dualnaturedscientist

"Hold on a minute, some weird guy is staring at me. Probably some bum trying to get change off of me." Comments like that had ensured he would absolutely be relieved of guilt for what was to happen next. A smile spreads across the figure's facial features, revealing inhumanly sharp teeth glinting in the street lights. A hand quickly shot out, taking a hold of the rather obnoxious man. "What the hell are you doing-" A scream soon pierced the quietness of the night. It quickly became a horrendous gurgling noise. The cellphone in the man's hand had fallen in the process. Leaving the person on the other end to become worried and confused about what was happening to the man. It didn't take very long for the man to become completely still. The figure allows him to finally fall to the cement below, licking at his blood stained lips in satisfaction. "The night, it is still so young. I don't think I shall waste another minute on you." Like a ghost in the night, he had vanished. As if he were never there. Leaving only the grotesque mess he had made for others to find. Unknown to him, there was a witness to this who had seen the whole thing. Watching in complete and utter fear. The figure grinned, it was as if he were seeing the world through different eyes. The opportunities that awaited him. It sent a shiver of excitement up his spine. His thirst might have satiated but he wasn't satisfied with only that. Oh no. There was so much more he had in mind for this city. Just wait till morning until they discover his little surprise for all to see. It wasn't until hours later did he finally return to the house. Feeling pleased with himself. Carl shot up in bed, heart racing so fast within his chest. Calming down once realizing he was in bed with Matthew. It took the retired scientist to recognize his surroundings. "That's right.. we're at Gene's place." The dream he had woken up from was already fading from his memory. It was rather absurd, recalling what he could. He could've sworn the dream was incredibly vivid and felt so real. But the little bits of the dream that he did remember became fuzzy and distant in his mind. Carl wasn't as quiet as he thought. Matthew had woken up. "Love, are you okay?" His voice had brought Carl from his thoughts. "Matthew, dearest. I hadn't meant to wake you up." He frowned, feeling guilty as he wanted his husband to get as much rest as needed. "It's alright, I needed to get up early anyway. Don't feel bad, my darling. I'm worried about you, though.” He gave Matthew a smile. “It was just a dream. I was just startled from a dream. I don't even remember what happened in it anymore. I'll be fine.” Matthew pulled the other into his arms, holding him in such a comforting manner. Placing a loving kiss to Carl's forehead. “Even so, I've still got you.” The former scientist blushed. Matthew still had such an effect on him even after all this time. “Thank you, my love.” They had stayed like that for a good while. It wasn't until Carl noticed the time that he forced Matthew to get out of bed and to get ready for his community service. Though there was something that had been bothering Carl since waking up. He had not remembered going back to bed after his conversation with Gene last night. No matter how much he tried to, it just kept coming up blank to him. Carl sighed, he must've been that tired that he didn't remember. He was getting up there in age. “I could stay back. Margaret won't be very happy about it but I don't want to leave you if you're not okay.” Carl smiled once more. “I'm not going to be responsible for what she'd do if you tried. You're also expecting a new face there, aren't you?” Matthew looked surprised at that. He had completely forgotten about that. And Carl did make a point. Wincing at the thought of what Margaret might do if he actually did skip out on it. Though for Carl, it would've been absolutely worth it. Whatever punishment she'd dole out, he'd endure for his dearest husband. “Go get dressed now.” Matthew chuckled at that before doing as he said. Leaving Carl to this thoughts.

Carl still felt unsettled by the dream, it was like he was walking through a mist. Yet at the same time it was like someone or something was controlling his body and actions. The dream was scary, but also ludicrous. At one point Carl thought he saw someone who looked like his old narcissus ex boyfriend who he never thought about again until now. Carl just let out a sigh and shook his head. 'It was just a nightmare.' Carl reassured himself. He remembered how reading how the mind and senses can trick the body into thinking something is real when it isn't. His strange dream was just one of those cases. Carl decided to get out of bed and go downstairs. He was going to try and help his son and other son-in-law deal with this strange and frightening case of kidnapping. Carl pushed away the issue of the nightmare and headed downstairs, ignoring the feeling of dread in the back of his mind. Carl also did not pay attention to that fact that his mouth was no longer dry and that there was no glass cup on the nightstand when he got up that morning. Atomic Steele surveyed the area with caution and an intense gaze. He was going over the area looking for something out of the ordinary. Something that had bothered his friend and teammate Electric Blur. Something in this seemingly abandoned area affected Blur's powers. "I wasn't sure what just happened. It felt like I was suddenly communicating emotionally with a strange energy wave that was being transmitted from there. I felt uneasy and scared...but also sad for some reason." That is what Blur told Atomic when she came back to their hideout looking shaken and worried. She told him she never felt anything like that before, not even from the fallen B.E.A.W labs. Atomic Steele offered to check it out for her as the young heroine wasn't keen on returning to the spot. While Electric Blur was being comforted by her other teammates, Atomic followed the directions the heroine had given him to the location where she felt the strange and unsettling energy. What Atomic Steele found when he got there was a large but abandoned warehouse surrounded by an empty field. The area was surrounded by a rusted, wired fence. The place looked like it hadn't been used for years. Still, the normally brave yet brash young hero couldn't help but feel a child go up his spine. His gut and instincts telling him there is something dangerous here, something evil. Atomic Steele walked up to the doors of the warehouse. He grabbed at a rusted handle and tried opening it. To the hero's surprise and growing caution, the door easily unlocked. Atomic Steele took a deep breath and steadied his nerves. He then proceeded inside the warehouse in a slow pace, ready to discover what laid inside. "Oh hello there Matthew. Cutting it a bit close are we." Miss Dewey lightly teased the former villain as he just came into the library to start his community service. "Sorry about that Miss Dewey. I had some problems this morning but I'm here now." Matthew replied, feeling a bit embarrassed about cutting things close. He really didn't want to leave Carl and Gene alone during the family crisis that was happening but at the same time he really didn't want to test the limits of his second chance at freedom from prison. Miss Dewey gave the man a look of sympathy and concern. "You know, if there is a serious problem going on at home, I wouldn't mind helping you fill out some forms to request a temporary leave from your community service." The librarian offered. Matthew smiled in appreciation at her kind gesture. "Thank you Miss Dewey but I'll be alright." Matthew responded. "So has the new service worker arrived yet?", the former villain asked. Miss Dewey smiled and nodded. "Yes he is here. Matthew, allow me to introduce you to Frank Leigh." Matthew glanced over to the man Miss Dewey introduced. He looked to be a few years older than Victor but still younger than Matthew and Carl. He had dark hair and light, blueish gray eyes. The man gave a friendly wave to Matthew. "Hi nice to meet you." Frank spoke in a kind tone. @dualnaturedscientist

[stealingyourbones]

Gotta love when folks write Superman incredibly anti-clone even though he had good reason in the beginning to Not Like Superboy (HES A WINDOW INTO WHAT CLARK WOULD HAVE BEEN WITHOUT THE KENTS) and decide that forever on he’ll be spiteful towards clones even though he literally Does Not Care if you’re a clone unless you’re Superboy.

[shireduchess]

;; ☁️

[alaskan-wallflower]

(vent in the tags and under the cut. don’t read if you don’t want.)

sometimes i wonder if people would care if i was gone. there’s just no point anymore tbh.

[kavehater]

I mean this from a social perspective not a health one : why does everything feel weird right now. Like yes I’m heartbroken about the reality of my position in the lives of my so called friends but now I just feel confused. I don’t understand why I’m not important and why I can’t change to be important to others, nor what makes a person important either.

[rosicheeks]

I get mad about Fb posts too!! I struggle with being jealous of others and it makes me hate myself. I wish I wasn't like this lol

I relate to this so much omg

[peapod20001]

Did sleeping help

No </3

[fernspirals]

I think that

[pepprs]

like…. UGH!!!!!!!!! girl help im in the water. girl help i cannot ASK for help i cannot communicate my needs i cannot translate myself a) at all but especially b) when there is no trust and… there is no trust. the trust was aready going extremely downhill and then it shattered and i am angry and hurt about it every day and i am still not over it. and this email i have to reply to has been making me upset for 2 days straight that’s why i haven’t replied i wanted it to happen but i don’t want to be a WIMP but i don’t see any way to make this work without admitting / revealing that i am one. about to swan dive into a vat of toxic sludge god bless 🙏🏻💞

[not-neverland06]

you're not her

The 'Worst' Logan x fem!mutant!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Eat me-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ominous, but whatever. “Sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah, look, my favorite fuck buddies.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t. Hold. Back.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wade

Did you fuckers have sex???

In my bed!!!!

And you didn’t invite me?!

….

Wade

Tell Logan I want his claws in me next

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

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

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

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

General Taglist: @evasmlp

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus ♡

[2kiran]

FRANCIS MOSSES 交易 ── `` DARK CONTENT﹕monsterfucking. top amab reader. doppelgänger francis. handjob. no protection + preparation. overstimulation. ✶ IN WHICH you unknowingly let the wrong francis inside.

the prospect of you being fired—or worse, being put in a cell—was incredibly likely. enthusiasm of the milkman’s arrival being your final entry request for the day lead to your upcoming demise.

it shouldn’t be on you, both the blame and responsibility. the given identity document had indistinguishable information, merely an artist’s mistake as you finally realize that his eyebrows were just a tad thicker. his eyes were a bit too lively for the real francis.

realization dawned on you a second too late as you feel cold, but strangely simultaneously familiar and unfamiliar hands grab you from behind. before you could reach the rotary phone to contact the D.D.D., he grabbed your wrist and spun your chair around to face him.

francis, or so you thought, had a gentle smile plastered on his face but you knew better to tell that his intentions were far from truly kind. “don’t tell me you were actually going to let them kill me,” your jaw tightened, gaze hardening into a glare. he chuckled, hands landing on the armrests, so dangerously close to yours that were balled in fists to prevent yourself from punching his face.

when you didn’t respond, he continued. leaning in as he shook his head with a scoff, “aw, c’mon. . .we both know that you’re too much of a good sweetheart, yeah? please don’t try that again.” his saccharine voice was improbable, a subtle take of a threat behind his tone.

“you’re gullible enough to think i’d do that for you.” the tension between you was palpable, a thin thread that threatened to break at the tip of his finger. his lips pouted, sadness in his untrue eyes. “me? but you’re the one who let me in here,” he laughed, tone rather arrogant, “and i should thank you for that.”

if he were the real francis, you probably would have been making out with him by now. this doppelgänger was awfully confident, you wish you could break him. see tears fall down to his round cheeks, lips trembling as pleas tumbled out of his pretty lips.

these thoughts were idiotic. but fuck, he was near enough to the milkman, the clueless neighbor who could care less about it all. “want me to spare you? or—” you cut him off, lips connecting with his. francis was surprised, but welcomed it nonetheless. his hand came up to your neck, sliding towards your hair. groaning as he gently, almost experimentally, tugged at it. tongue met tongue, a clash of saliva and mess. you bit onto his bottom lip, eliciting a soft moan.

“mmph, and here i thought you hated me.” he grinned, panting, “what gave you that idea?” you place a kiss on his chin, “because you tried to get rid of me, and the fact that. . .i’m not him.” grabbing his hips, he let out a yelp. he scrambled to hold onto your shoulders for dear life, gasping when he felt your teeth graze against his neck. “seems like i’ve struck a nerve, hu—haah, fuck!”

a lewd moan had escaped him, your teeth sinking into his flesh. it was far from gentle, biting him like you wanted to see him bleed. he was simply a doppelgänger that you stupidly let in, after all.

the pink muscle settled in your mouth lapped at the bite, cueing francis to whimper at the sensation. he moved closer on your lap, grinding against your crotch. the action could’ve been mistaken for something relating to a dog; for he seemed like a bitch in heat. quite uncharacteristic for his kind. “you’re pathetic, mosses.”

francis, beyond belief, was affected by the use of the stolen surname more than you anticipated. his hips trembled, “that’s, haah, not my fault. you made me like this. fucking a– ah! doppelgänger, really? they’d surely co– come for you next.” his cock twitched, spilling pre-cum that formed a wet patch on his boxers. you were a lowly human, another one to get rid of, so why does he feel this way?

silence was met with his words. not until you pull down his pants, taking off what was left until his lower half was bare to you. “oh yeah? you’re letting me fuck you,” your fingers wrapped around the base of his dick, giving a single stroke, “you’re not even trying to fight back against me, honey.”

he whined, beginning to selfishly rut into your palm. “what were you going to say?” francis doesn’t respond and you twist your wrist, a cry slipping from him. you asked on a whim, wishing to hear what he planned besides allowing you to carry on with your life. “i-i don’t know!” your thumb presses down on his slit, causing him to wrack his brain to remember. “ah, ah, i meant to ask if you wa- want me to kill you right he— hmmng!” his voice wobbled as if he was fearful, tears in his eyes and he’s suddenly ethereal.

“do you still want to do that? to end my life?”

“no, no, please, i didn’t mean it.”

you tease the vein that ran on his shaft, never failing to witness the face he makes when he’s within the depths of pleasure; of that high he never dared to reach. oh, if only if it was francis mosses. the real one, the one you’re so curious about, the one who your eyes like to linger on a bit too long for comfort. your pace picks up, palm slick with his pre-cum and the room’s sinful with his sobs and arousal.

francis moans under his breath, “i’m cumming-!” he warns a second too late, hips bucking as the familiar fluid splatters across your fingers. the doppelgänger was your very own legendary mona lisa with how his face is painted with all shades of red.

when you swipe your thumb over his tip, he swore he had a glimpse of the deity he didn’t have the conscience to worship.

beliefs were foolish; it was his opinion. with that, he thought you were the one insane. doppelgängers aren’t flawed with such imperfections like humans are. he didn’t need to be prepared for situations similar to this, and you used his inhumanity for your pleasure.

“ughm, agh!” you had wordlessly given your cock a few pumps, no more than that before slipping inside of his tight hole. the tiniest beginning of guilt threatened to engulf you with shame, but why should you allow it? his mere purpose and intention was to murder.

his hole spasmed around you, freely welcoming the intrusion. maybe they were quite useful after all. he whined, his insides tingling with the stretch. the doppelgänger has never felt so full, or genuinely anything, for that matter. “please—fuck, move already, damnit.” he, himself, was breathless.

how could you deny him?

your hands grasped his hips tightly, like you wanted to indent a marking into his flesh. cold emanated from your palms, contrasting to the heat licking at his cheeks. he’s lighter than you’d expect, hole gripping you as if he was a fleshlight. lifting him up, your tip was held onto. heavenly; as the way he wrapped around you was undeniably heavenly.

sensing his apparent impatience, you let him crash down on you. a broken gasp-of-a-moan occupied the air, globs of pre-cum building on his slit. “yeah, fuck me like that,” he breathed, instructions hazily clear to your sex-deprived brain. his ass slapped, slapped, slapped against you. shit, the D.D.D. surely ought to give you a punishment worse than death for this.

he clung onto you, both with his arms and entrance. you don’t think you could really get enough—as vague as this memory could get. your tip brushes against his prostate with each harsh thrust, slick sounds adding onto the cotton pressed into his little head, forming static and nothing else to focus on besides your cock pounding into him. “you’re liking this- ahngm! right? like how good i feel? haa, needed your dick in me s’ bad. . .”

he pushed his hips forward, grinding on your cock as he purposely clenched. “thaaaat’s it, sweetheart. think ‘m gonna keep you.”

yeah, let’s hope your neighbors forgive you for indulging in him.

masterlist﹒divider﹒artist kaworinx

[haetrack]

your fate, my karma

jung jaehyun x fem!reader

wc: 11.7k

synopsis: jaehyun realizes he’s in love with you. it’s fucked, especially because he rejected you once before. he doesn’t want to ruin what he has with you. but he can’t help it, it’s like he was made to see and touch you. he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold in his secret.

warnings: angst, little fluff, friends with benefits, pining, one sided love, confession, argument, smut (MDNI), desperate jaehyun, unprotected sex (pulling out), possessiveness and jealousy, dialogue heavy at some parts

heavily inspired by somethin’ stupid - frank sinatra

part three to the how it all goes series!

you're laid back onto his bed, heavy breaths fanned across your face. on top of you is jaehyun, cheeks dusted with pink as his fingers are still move inside of you. “stop already,” you huff out a laugh, “i might die if you make me cum one more time.”

he chuckles at your words and slowly pulls his fingers out of you, sucking obscenely on them just to annoy you. it works, and you cover your eyes to get the image out of your head. you don’t offer to help him out, and he doesn’t ask for any favors.

he’s not really sure how his friendship with you got to this point. if he could put it simply, you told him that you had feelings for him, asking if he felt the same way. he said that he wasn’t ready for a relationship, that he wasn’t ready to be so vulnerable in front of another person. he still wanted to be friends with you. 

he remembers seeing sadness flash through your eyes, but you just smiled at him and accepted the answer that you got. in a way, jaehyun wished he could like you back, he hated the way he hurt you, but he just wasn’t ready. you were wary around him, trying to hide the hurt that he caused you. he couldn’t bear to see it, and hated how much you were hiding from him.

which is how he finds you next to him, curled up in his bed after he’s made you cum. he knows it probably wasn’t the best idea to propose, but he didn’t know how else he could keep you close. when he explains it to himself in his head, it sounds shitty, makes him feel a little fucked up. he tries to justify it, but really, all of this is a temporary fix to keep you close to him.

despite all the grey areas in his friendship with you, he’s certain about one thing: he really does like having you around. he’s chalked it up to his feelings just being from how long he’s known you, but he knows that there’s something else he doesn’t want to admit. because one, it’s fucked. two, he’s rejected you. three, he can’t like you.

he can’t like like you. he doesn’t even want to imagine thinking about the other word, but it plays at the back of his head sometimes. he hears it when you’re both out at a bar together, watching you drunkenly cling to his side. he hears it when you’re at his apartment after work. he hears it when your eyes look up at his when you drop to your knees.

he can hear it even now as you lay next to him, curled up into his side as your breaths even out. it doesn’t feel weird that he can feel your naked body against his, his best friend comfortably laid up next to him. is it so wrong of him to want this? you became more comfortable around him again after he had sex with you. he knows it’s just a temporary solution.

he can feel your breaths across his chest, your face nuzzling closer to him. he could move you away, could create a clearer boundary between the two of you. he feels a little selfish when he lets you stay there, deciding to wrap an arm around your shoulders as he pushes you closer. it’s not fair to either of you, he’s not your boyfriend, he shouldn’t be this close to you. 

it’s quiet in his room, save for the sound of cars driving down the road and the occasional huff you let out in your sleep. he isn’t tired at all, too lost in his thoughts as he stares up at the ceiling, the warmth of your body taking up all his thoughts. if he could, he would go back in time and stop you from confessing. he would’ve done it himself in the future, he just needed a little more time.

he can’t blame you though. it’s his fault for rejecting you, it’s his fault for thinking that he could make something happen out of this. there’s a small part of his heart that believes that you could like him again. you wouldn’t come back to him for sex every night, right? but the more realistic part of him knows that it could mean anything.

which is why he can’t stop you coming to him when you’re needy. it’s not even just those times, but he doesn’t think he could ever willingly cut you off. he likes spending time with you, and above everything else, you’re his friend.

he just can’t help but wish it could be a little more than that.

you always ask jaehyun to come over if he has the time.

as you both have grown older, it feels like you both have lost more and more time. when you were both college students, it was easy to skip a few classes and go to parties each night. but now as adults, it’s hard to find time for each other. which is why you ask him to go do mundane tasks with you, like buying groceries or trying on clothes.

today it’s going over to eat with him.

before he rejected you, it felt special to be invited to do these kinds of things with him. out of all the people he could’ve asked, he chose you. it didn’t take long for you to realize that, no, jaehyun asking you to spend time with him meant nothing but him being friendly. it’s weird looking back at how much you wanted jaehyun to like you more than a friend. 

as you make your way to his apartment, you realize how much time you spent just wishing for something to happen between you two. you wonder if it was something that was ever supposed to happen between you, or maybe if the timing just wasn’t right. you used to find yourself thinking about the what ifs after he had freshly rejected you. but now, you try to focus on what you have.

he’s just your friend, and you’re close to accepting that it’ll probably never be more than that. 

when you make it to his apartment, you don’t see him right away. you call out his name, hearing his voice from his kitchen. when you head over, you’re expecting a nice meal laid out for the two of you to eat. instead, you’re greeted by jaehyun standing by the stove, a stupid smile on his face as he greets you.

“so, you invite me over to come and eat.”

he nods, smile growing wider, “yes.”

“but i’m not seeing any food.”

“that’s because you’re gonna help me.”

you stare at him. he starts moving towards you, one of his arms wrapping around your shoulder, pulling you into his side. he starts dragging you towards where he was standing. you start whining, “you don’t need my help. you’re a whole grown man who can cook whatever he wants.”

he laughs, “but i need you to be my other chef… what are they called?”

you roll your eyes, “a sous chef?”

“exactly,” he points at you, as if you just solidified his argument, “what if i forget something and i need your help?”

you pat his shoulder, “then you call me while i sit over on the couch.”

he’s about to give up, but he swears there’s a certain look in your eyes that ask him to keep going. that’s how it always feels with you, a certain push-and-pull that you both can’t let go of. your fingers twitch against his shoulder, almost giving you away. he moves to hold your hand, “how about you at least watch me on the side. i just wanna talk to you.”

you almost want to point out his pouty tone, want to laugh at how there’s a frown on his face. but you can’t. he looks a little too sincere, and you don’t want to think too hard about the feelings he doesn’t have for you. you sigh, eventually giving into his words. it’s always like this, jaehyun acting like he can’t go on without you. that’s what got you here in the first place.

he smiles when you approach him, so close that his arm is touching yours. it doesn’t matter how long or how many times he’s had sex with you, to have you close to him like this makes his heart soar. 

it’s like this for the whole time you both cook. your hands lightly grazing his, the sweet smile you show him when he does good, the laugh you let out when he messes up. you take over some parts for him without him asking you to. he can’t help let his mind wander, thinking this is how it would be all the time if you two were dating.

he wouldn’t have to beg you to do something with him, you would do it on your own accord. he wouldn’t have to hold back how much he wants to kiss you, he could press as many kisses on your cheeks or lips. he could stand behind you, wrapping his arms around you as you forcibly kick him off of cooking duty.

instead, he’s standing in front of the food he’s making, probably overcooking it as you point and laugh at him. you even take out your phone to take a picture of him, laughing as you fiddle with your phone. he swats at you, grumbling, “if you posted that on instagram, i am definitely blocking you.”

“you know me so well. i tagged you and everything.”

he chooses not to respond, taking out plates from his cabinet for the both of you. he can see you standing next to him, waiting to plate your food. he quickly decides to plate it for you, trying to hide his pink cheeks as he pushes the plate towards you. when he’s plating his own, you speak up, “wow, what a gentleman!” he can hear the teasing tone you use, “you’re really setting the bar for all men, aren’t you, jaehyun?”

he decides to tease you back, “just trying to show you how much nicer i am than you are. you should post this on instagram, too.”

“nope, letting all my followers know how mean and horrible of a cook you are. i’m ruining your chances of getting with someone.”

he shakes his head in amusement, moving to one of the seats on his small dining table. you follow, sitting right across from him. he messes with his phone a bit before you can hear that it’s connected to his speakers. an unfamiliar tune starts playing as you watch jaehyun’s head bob along to the song. 

this is how it always is, eating together, listening to his annoyingly good music taste, and enjoying each other’s presence. the food he cooked is surprisingly good, but you try to denounce it because you did help him along the way. it’s quiet between the two of you, nothing really too important to talk about.

jaehyun notices your fingers tapping along the table to the beat of the song. he smiles, “do you like it? the song?”

you pretend to think about it, “hm... well, it’s good.”

“you’re not gonna secretly shazam it under the table like last time?”

“that was literally a one time thing,” you huff, “i’ll just go and find someone with the exact same music taste as you.”

he smiles to himself, “you know there’s no one else like me.”

you think about his words for a bit. he probably didn’t mean for them to have a double meaning, but you can’t help but find one. you wonder if you’ll ever be able to find someone who could’ve made you as happy as jaehyun does. you wonder if you do ever find someone, if you’d be able to forget jaehyun.

you feel like you’ve become so intertwined in his life that everything might lead back to him.

you eventually nod along to his words, “yeah, there’s no one else like you.”

“you’re kinda an ass for not picking her up yourself.”

jaehyun huffs at johnny’s words. it’s not that he didn’t want to, but you had assured him that you would make it on time. when he brought up your safety, you said that it was taken care of already. jaehyun couldn’t help but wonder who or what could possibly be more safe than him, but he didn’t want to argue. 

but now that you’re a little late, he can’t stop himself from worrying. johnny makes it worse, tearing into him, teasing him with every word. jaehyun hasn’t told him about his surfacing feelings for you, but johnny is notoriously nosy, probably knowing the exact day jaehyun thought that he started liking you. 

johnny takes one more jab at him, “she would’ve liked you more if you’d been the one who brought her.”

jaehyun’s shoulder bumps into johnny’s, “she already does like me a lot, so there’s no need for all of that.”

johnny shrugs, letting out an if you say so as he sips on his drink. as much as jaehyun wants to deny it, he really wishes he could’ve at least given you a ride. he would’ve immediately ditched johnny if you asked, would’ve been right outside your doorstep as soon as you said you were ready. he wants to tell himself that that’s just what friends do, but there’s something he doesn’t want to admit.

his hands move to pull out his phone, scrolling through your messages from the past hours. he knows he’s made a mistake as soon as he feels johnny’s eyes looking at his screen from over his shoulder. jaehyun makes a jokingly shocked face at johnny to try to distract him, but johnny’s face mirrors his own. 

johnny’s about to say something with a teasing smile on his face and jaehyun’s ready to stop him. instead, a ding comes from his phone, calling their attention. it’s a text from you, letting jaehyun know that you’re outside. he sends a text to you, his eyes moving to the entrance as he waits for you to walk in.

and there you are.

your eyes scan the room, looking for both him and johnny. jaehyun can feel his cheeks heat up at the sight of you, your face illuminated by the warm lights of the bar. he thinks you look pretty all the time, but now that he’s seeing you like this, he wants to keep it in his memory forever.

you quickly spot them, your face brightening up with a smile as you make your way towards them. you greet the two of them, johnny easily bringing you into a hug. when you turn to jaehyun, you expect the same, but his eyes stay on you for a moment too long. he notices your teasing smile, quickly clearing his throat before wrapping his arms around you.

johnny starts, “always so fashionably late.”

you laugh, “if i don’t come, who else is gonna be the funniest and sexiest person in our friend group?”

johnny moves to tuck an invisible strand of hair behind his ear, “i was holding that position just fine before you came.”

you slap his shoulder, a fit of laughter taking over you. jaehyun watches the two of you, quietly laughing at the side. he likes the dynamic the three of you have, always mentally thanking johnny for introducing you to him. he’d endure all of johnny’s teasing for years if it meant to have you laughing at his side.

it stays like this for a while. the three of you drinking together, laughing when johnny tries dragging you closer to the middle of the room to dance. jaehyun can feel his cheeks get hotter, pink from the alcohol and the not-so-visible adoration he holds for you. he tries to quiet his feelings, but when you lean into his side, your warm body pressing against his, he figures he can give up the act a little.

it’s at times like these where jaehyun realizes that he can see the you from before the rejection. it’s a bit selfish for him crave this side of you, the one where you don’t care how much you touch him or how you continue talking into his ear all night. he thinks that if you were both dating, he could lean over and press a kiss to your cheek, watching as you nuzzle into his side.

for now, all he can do is wrap his arm around yours as you both sway side to side. johnny went off to get another drink, promising to be back quickly. jaehyun has this little time to have you all to himself, listening to the loud chattering around him and the bass of the music loud in his ears. your eyes are closed, humming along to the song.

jaehyun could easily whisper into your ear about his feelings. you probably wouldn’t remember either way, but he knows it’s not right. it’s not like he’d want to do it this way, wanting to tell you honestly. but there’s a growing part inside his brain that’s begging him to do something about it. he has you so close now, so why can’t just say that he likes you?

the thoughts dissipate when johnny comes back, smile on his face with three more drinks in hand. johnny quickly notices how your arm is intertwined with jaehyun’s, and jaehyun can physically see the moment johnny comes up with a plan. jaehyun doesn’t bother moving from his spot, though, willing to sacrifice his humility just to have you by his side.

as if jaehyun wasn’t having thoughts of kissing or dating you, the conversation turns back to normal. the three of you chatting, exchanging work gossip and taking drinks from your cups. it’s like every night this happens, it’s a regular routine of talking and him having to fight back his more than friendly thoughts of his friend. 

except this time, while johnny’s explaining how he thinks his boss might be having an affair, you cut him off. johnny jokingly scoffs, turning to where you’re looking at. you both squeal, johnny’s hands finding your shoulders, shaking them back and forth. you gasp, “that’s him, right?”

johnny matches your tone, “totally him! i could recognize him from anywhere!”

raising an eyebrow in your direction, jaehyun asks, “and who exactly are we talking about?”

you turn back at him, “that’s jungwoo, someone we knew from college!”

the name sounds familiar to jaehyun. there’s probably been a few times you talked about him during one semester. he’s not sure which one it could be, but there’s a memory of a faint smile on your face while talking about him. it sets a weird feeling in jaehyun’s stomach, and he realizes you look a little too excited at the sight of jungwoo.

jaehyun’s arm is still looped around yours, a small frown on his face, “does everyone and their moms know jungwoo now?”

“he was funny in class and he bought me coffee once,” johnny hums.

you join in, “he is definitely funny and he did good when we worked on a project together.”

jaehyun pointedly glares at johnny when he speaks, but when you speak, he just holds you closer to him. he can see how johnny watches him, being reminded of how he looked like he was planning something earlier. jaehyun sees it now, johnny’s face darkening before he speaks, turning to speak to you, “i think you should go talk to him.”

jaehyun sends a pointed glare at him before looking at you, his eyes widening when he sees the shy smile on your face. you ask, “what if he doesn’t even recognize me?”

“why wouldn’t he? he always looked at you a certain way when you guys talked, he definitely remembers you.”

jaehyun wonders why no one told him more about this “jungwoo” and his apparent more-than-friendly feelings for you? if johnny knows, then does that mean the three of you hung out before without him? how much has jaehyun missed between you and jungwoo? jaehyun silently takes another sip of his drink, his eyes peering over his cup as he watches you get lost in your thoughts.

he thinks you might drop the conversation, but you breath out, “i’ll do it. i’ll go talk to him.”

jaehyun tries his best not to acknowledge the growing jealousy he can feel bubbling up in his throat. he has to bite back a remark that would probably make things worse for himself. he decides to let go of your arm, watching as you easily separate from him. johnny starts hyping you up, giving you encouraging words as jaehyun massages your shoulders.

although jaehyun wishes he could say don’t go over there or i’ll die, he decides to send you a thumbs up before you walk away. his throat burns, and as much as he wants to think it’s from the alcohol, it’s from seeing you walk away from him. you’re walking to someone that isn’t him, sharing your warmth that’s supposed to be jaehyun’s.

he realizes then and there that he shouldn’t be thinking that.

you’re pressed against jaehyun’s bed, his face burying into your neck as he leaves kisses across your skin. you had to tell him to not leave any marks when you feel his teeth nip at your skin, and you could’ve sworn you heard a huff come out of him when you did. he’s practically pinning you down, body barely hovering over yours.

there are days where he gets like this, too desperate to where he doesn’t realize he grips you a little tighter, his voice growing deeper, relieving all of his stress by making you both feel good. you can tell when he gets like this, a quick text of an you up? letting you know what he wants. you’ve grown to learn all his habits.

it does feel a little different today, though. he was quick to greet you, quick to bring you to bed to kiss you. there were no words of how work was hard for him or if he was stressed about something that happened. not that there’s anything wrong with him not saying, but there’s a certain desperation in his movements as his lips trail down your body.

you decide not to ask about it, not wanting to pressure him into talking about something he doesn’t want to talk about. you’re quick to forget about it when he presses a kiss onto your clothed clit. he calls your name, bringing your attention to the heavy gaze he gives you. he murmurs out, “gonna let me see this pretty pussy?”

you nod quickly, lifting your hips up so he can take off your panties. he moves to lay between your thighs, humming when he sees how you’re dripping for him. it’s embarrassing, trying to close your legs. you’re met with his hands keeping them apart, chuckling at the whine you let out.

“didn’t know you could be this wet for me. if i didn’t know any better, i’d think that you need me.”

you let out a small whimper when he traces a finger down your slit, “jaehyun, please, need you to- need you to do something!”

“tell me what you need, pretty. if you don’t tell me, how am i supposed to help?”

“need you, jaehyun! want your fingers, want you to touch me!”

“of course, that’s all i needed to hear.”

you can feel one of his fingers slide into you, your head falling back onto his pillow at the feeling. you clench around his digit, already begging for more, needing him to fill you up. he doesn’t tease you for being so desperate, quickly giving into your pleas as another finger slips inside you. you let out a cry when you feel his thumb circle around your clit.

“such a messy baby, dripping all over my fingers. needed me so bad, right?”

moans of his name tumble out of your lips when he curls his fingers inside you, hitting that spot that sends shocks down your spine. your hands are gripping onto the sheets, realizing just how fast you're about to cum. you’re sure he can feel you clench around his digits, especially when you manage to open your eyes and see him looking straight at you.

“gonna cum all over my fingers?”

“fuck, yes! please, wanna cum, need you to let me cum!”

his movements speed up at your words, “go ahead and show me how much you need it.”

you’re quick to fall apart, your orgasm crashing into you. your thighs shut around his hand that’s helping you ride out your orgasm. all you can hear are the sounds you make and the encouragement that jaehyun mumbles out to you. you’re too fucked out to realize that his clean hand intertwines with yours, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand.

before you can comment on it, he’s quick to pull away from you, hands moving to undo his pants. you move to try to do it for him, but he swats your hands away with a laugh. after letting you gawk at him for a bit, he takes his boxers off, a whine leaving you at the sight of his leaking cock. he tilts his head at you, “are you gonna let me fill your pretty pussy up?”

“please,” you moan. your legs move to wrap around his waist, bringing his hips flush to yours. his cock ruts against your cunt, still sensitive from your last orgasm. he shushes you when you let out a small gasp, one of his hands soothing the skin of your thigh. you let out a small cry when his tips rubs against your clit, the last of your patience running out.

you can tell it’s getting to him, too. his cheeks and ears are flushed, his eyebrows furrowed as he switches between watching your face and where he’s pressed against you. he bites back a groan when his tip catches at your entrance, trying hard not to push into you right then and there. he puts all his focus on you, “tell me that you want me to fill you up. tell me that you need me to fuck you.”

you whine, your head digging into the pillow. despite his flushed face, there’s a cocky look on his face as he stares down at you. you’re too desperate to try to fight back, losing the battle as you let out a whimper of his name. there’s almost a surprised look in his eyes as he sees you give up this easily, leaning down to give you a quick kiss to your collarbone.

“i know, baby, need you just as bad. gonna fuck you like you need it, okay?”

you whisper out a thank you as he moves to line himself up at your entrance. he slowly slides in, letting out a deep groan as he watches himself sink into you. he fights off his eyes from closing at the feeling of your tight cunt clenching around his length. you’re no better, writhing around in the sheets, whimpers of his name escaping you.

once he bottoms out, he lets out a grunt, “missed this pussy so much. so fucking warm, so tight, all for me.” you’re quick to agree, hands trying to reach at his shoulders to bring him closer to you. he gives in easily, huffing at how he can feel himself deeper inside you at the new position. he kisses the valley of your breasts, sucking lightly.

he starts off slow, teasing you as he thrusts into you, slow and deep. if you can listen past your own moans and whimpers, you can hear the quiet curses and sounds he lets out, trying to hide how much you’re affecting him. when your nails claw at his back, he breaks, “didn’t even mean to call you this late, i just needed you so bad.”

his words get to you, the fact that he wanted to call you because he was needy makes you clench around him. he can’t help but pick up the pace of his thrusts at the feeling, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. you don’t know what has him so worked up, but if he’s going to make you feel this good, you might have to figure it out.

you need just a little more, your hand trailing down your body to get to your clit. you moan in relief when your fingers circle your clit, clenching tightly around jaehyun’s length. it has his hips stuttering slightly, eyes making their way to your hand. he’s quick to push your hand away to replace it with his own, thumb making tight circles around the nub. 

he move up to whisper into your ear, “only i can make you feel this good, right? i know you better than anyone else, even yourself.”

you shake your head at his words, but your hips roll up into his, trying to fit more of him inside you. he chuckles lowly at the sight, a small smile on his face as he watches you. he’s slamming into you now, any patience he had now gone as he nears the edge. he starts, “no? trust me, pretty. i know just how you like to be touched, how you liked to be fucked. i know you so well that i just know that you’re close to cumming.”

tears prick your eyes, because yes, you are close to cumming. you can’t help it, not when he’s fucking you like this. he’s not usually this talkative, choosing rather to focus on getting away from any stresses. but now, he’s letting you in on his thoughts, letting you know what could possibly be nagging at him. you’ll save it for another time.

you’re surrounded by all of him, chest touching his as his warm breath hits your neck. you used to wish for him to kiss you during moments like these, moments where you’re both so close, adrenaline too high. now, all you can do is whine out his name, begging for him to let you cum.

it’s easy for you to let go of any past emotions you had for him, but for jaehyun, he wishes he could kiss you. he wishes that you could want him again, wishes that he didn’t have to fuck you like this. this is what he wanted, though. he just didn’t think it would be this hard. he tries to ignore it by groaning into your ear, “gonna cum for me? gonna cum all over my cock?”

“y-yes, please! you make me feel so good!”

“yeah? show me then, pretty girl. show me how i’m the only one who can make you feel this good.”

at the sound of his voice, you cum. your chest arches up into his, nails digging into his back as you let go. he’s moaning at the feeling, his hips stuttering as he tries to fuck into your tight pussy. he has to bite down onto your shoulder at the feeling, holding back just how bad he wants to cum inside you.

when you start whining, he’s quick to pull out of your heat, quickly jerking himself off to the sight of how fucked out you look. with a moan of your name, his cum shoots out over your stomach, his cheeks a pretty pink as he does. 

it’s quiet in his room, save for the deep breaths you both let out. he’s just staring down at you, saving the image of you covered in his cum in his mind. you don’t mind, too tired to notice the slight adoration in his eyes as he stares. it is embarrassing though, covering your face with your arm as you tell him to move.

he blinks away his thoughts, chuckling at your embarrassment. he pats your thigh, moving away as he goes to get a towel to clean you up. he’s being careful with you, his movements slow as the towel moves around your body. there’s a soft look in his eyes, a lazy smile on his face as he indirectly touches you. he’s quick to throw the towel into his laundry basket, even quicker to join you in bed. 

in a motion that almost seems too soft for the fact that he just fucked you into his sheets, he pulls your back into his chest. one of his hands makes it to your side, letting it sit there. his breaths are evening out, fanning across your shoulder that he nuzzles into. his touches are hesitant against your skin, almost as if he was debating on whether or not he could touch you like this.

you almost want to push his hand away or try to make some space between the two of you. friends should not be holding each other like this, friends should not be letting each other bask in the warmth of their bodies. friends shouldn’t even be having sex, not like this.

but you figure just this once, you’ll let yourself have this moment. it’s a bit selfish, getting to have jaehyun like this. you wished he’d hold you like this every single time. you think if he did, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from falling back in love with him. there’s no way for you to win when it comes to jaehyun.

as he presses a kiss and murmurs a goodnight into your shoulder, you make a promise to yourself: you won’t ever lose yourself over jaehyun again.

jaehyun realizes how little time he’s been spending with you recently.

he’s been hearing more about this jungwoo guy. you’ve told him can’t hang out, i’m with jungwoo right now or i’ll be hanging out with jungwoo later. you’ve been so busy catching up with jungwoo that jaehyun hasn’t had the time to talk to you. no more eating or shopping together, not when jungwoo’s around.

jaehyun doesn’t want to say he’s necessarily jealous of the relationship you two share, but can’t say it doesn’t sit right with him. jaehyun is still your friend after all, and he doesn’t like hearing you talk so much about him. during the small chances jaehyun gets to talk to you, you always slip in one mention about jungwoo.

what about jaehyun? what does jungwoo have that he doesn’t? he could totally treat and touch you better than jungwoo ever could. he practically does already. he can’t help but let these little thoughts enter his mind. if jungwoo’s in the way, how is jaehyun supposed to show you how much he likes you?

it’s one day that you’re both splayed across his couch, your legs resting over his as his thumb smoothes across the skin of your thigh when jungwoo is brought up again. out of the corner of his eye, he can see you smile and lightly laugh at your phone. jaehyun, being the nosy person that he is, can’t help but try to reach over to see what you’re laughing at.

you’re quick to push him away, chuckling at the sight of the small pout on his face. he tries again, and you decide it’s probably better just to sit beside him instead. you begrudgingly show him your phone, and he squints his eyes so he can read your screen better.

it’s quiet for a few moments before he hums at the texts between you and jungwoo. it’s a conversation funny enough to make you laugh. he tries not to roll his eyes at the cutesy way jungwoo texts, him being clearly interested in you. he doesn’t want to say anything about it though, doesn’t want you to know that jungwoo bothers him for reasons that he shouldn’t be thinking. 

“he’s funny,” jaehyun muses, trying to stop the snarky remark he wants to say.

“way funnier than you,” you tease, watching him deflate back to his side of the couch. 

“there’s been times where you’ve laughed at my jokes though, like laughed laughed.”

“i was either super drunk or bored out of my mind, so those don’t count.”

jaehyun rolls his eyes at you, deciding to ignore your words, choosing to believe that you think he’s the funniest man ever. he’s been finding himself having little competitions with jungwoo that only he’s a part of. jungwoo is funny? jaehyun is funnier. jungwoo is cute? jaehyun is cute, too, just give him a minute.

jaehyun tries to boil it down to the fact he’s always been competitive, but he knows it’s more than that. in his head, it doesn’t matter what jungwoo does better than jaehyun because right now, you're in his apartment, on his couch, deciding to spend meaningless time with him. 

“what have you both been doing? i haven’t seen you at all this week.” he hates how his voice sounds, a little too clingy for his liking, but he hopes you don’t hear it.

“nothing, really. we’ve just been going out to eat or hanging out when we have the time.”

jaehyun figures you both somehow have all the time in the world in order to be hanging out this much. he makes his voice whiny before speaking, “i miss you, please don’t leave me forever.”

you laugh at the sound of his voice, pulling your legs away from him. “you’re acting like me spending time with jungwoo is gonna kill you.”

“what’s killing me is the fact i don’t get to see you that much anymore,” he grumbles. 

he notices that you don’t respond right away, and when he goes to look at you, your eyebrows are furrowed and there’s a certain look in your eyes. did he say too much? before he can start panicking, you turn towards him, “don’t do that.”

“do what?”

“pretend like you miss me when we already spend a lot of time together. you literally called me up the other night.”

jaehyun lets out a breath, “sorry, but you’re still my friend. i do miss you, i’m jealous that jungwoo gets to see you that much.” although he says it jokingly, there’s definitely truth behind his words. it might not mean much to you, but the fact that jungwoo gets to see you in a way that only jaehyun feels like he deserves, it hurts him.

“i’m gonna tell jungwoo you’re being mean to him,” you huff.

“tell him then,” jaehyun slings an arm around your waist, “let him know that he needs to learn how to share.”

“first of all,” you slide his arm off of you, “don’t say it like that because you make it sound like i’m an object. two, i think you might need to learn how to share.”

he hums, “you were mine first.”

“i was never yours,” you grouch, “you made that clear when you rejected me.”

he can tell you’re joking, but he can feel his blood run cold at your words. it’s a reminder to him that the rejection is still clear in your mind, reminding him just how much he hurt you. it will always be a reminder of how he messed up what could've been a good relationship with you if he just had more time.

he can’t blame you for his own mistake. he can’t.

in the best way he can, he puts his hands together and grovels, “please, can you find it in your kind soul to forgive me?”

you scoff, rightfully so, before grabbing your phone to take a picture of him. you’re quiet for a few moments more, jaehyun knowing that you’re about to post the picture on your instagram story for everyone to see, including jungwoo. he doesn’t want to stop you, equal parts of wanting to show off how you’re hanging out with him and a little bit of embarrassment. 

you set your phone down, placing your hands on top of his, “you can stop. now i kinda just feel bad for you. you do deserve it, though.”

jaehyun doesn’t move, staring at you with a certain look in his eyes. he can tell you right here, he thinks. he’s thought about what he’d say if he were to confess to you almost too much. he’s practiced his lines before, thinking up the perfect way he’d confess. it almost feels right to do it now, clearing his throat and-

your phone buzzes, pulling your attention away from him. he grimaces when you show him the notification. what seems to be jungwoo’s account liking your story, the story that has jaehyun begging for your apology posted on it. you sigh dreamily, “told you he’s funny.”

“not funny when it’s jungwoo.”

“jaehyun!”

you find yourself drinking at jaehyun’s place again.

it’s a slow night, both of you had stressful days. you choose to stay in jaehyun’s kitchen, laughing at unfunny words and pouring more wine for each other as the night rolls on. you didn’t mean to stay over so late, but jaehyun practically begged you to spend some time with him. you were quick to say yes under the guise that all he wanted to do was be with his friend.

before the night went too deep, you texted jungwoo saying that you probably won’t be able to call him tonight. he responds quick, a have fun! and i hope you sleep well :) flashing on your screen. you smile warmly at the messages, but quickly notice jaehyun also staring at them. you push at his shoulders, whining over how he’s invading your privacy.

his cheeks are rosy from the wine, a sly smile on his face as he asks, “how am i not supposed to look when i see you smiling like that.”

“you’re supposed to be a good friend and support me in my times of need!”

he puts his hands up in defense, that annoying smile still looking back at you, “thank you for being so vulnerable around me. and who’s to say i don’t support you in your times of need?”

you hear the double meaning in his words, swatting him away, “hey! you’re actually so gross.”

he just chuckles at your words, enjoying how easily you get embarrassed at his teasing. it’s been happening more often, and jaehyun can’t help but piece together that it might be because of jungwoo. jaehyun feels that you might be slipping away right in front of him, and he can’t really do anything to stop it.

you aren’t completely unaware of jaehyun trying to get you to hang out with him. he’s been sending more texts recently, nothing really important being said. you’re not sure how obvious you’re being with jungwoo, but you’re sure that jaehyun has at least an inkling on how you feel about him. which leads you to believe that jaehyun might be a little jealous.

it was never your intention to make him jealous. that night when you first saw jungwoo again was all unplanned. you never thought you would end up talking to him, never thought you’d like the way he treated you. he was so sweet to you, always trying to take care of your every need when prompted.

it’s bad to compare, but you realize that jaehyun’s only being so nice to you now is because jungwoo’s being nice to you. 

that’s not to say that jaehyun was never not nice to you, but you could tell that it’s a different kind of nice when it comes to him. the relationship you have with jaehyun now feels more like a bandaid to cover all of the bad things that have happened, no one bothering to address it. you don’t want to either way, no use in bringing up what shouldn’t be talked about.

even now, as you’re here with him in his kitchen, feeling the cold air from the open window drift in, there’s unspoken words between the two of you. you can hear the music playing from his speakers in the other room, the melody sticking in your head. it’s weird to think that you would’ve never gotten to see jaehyun like this if you didn’t stay with him.

it’s quiet for a few moments, apart from jaehyun humming along to the song that’s playing. it’s dark, his warm lights low as they cover the both of you. it’s nice like this, a little drunk and a little quiet; you don’t have to think about anything you don’t want to. you don’t think before you speak, “i do miss you, too, you know.” 

“yeah?”

“you’re still someone i appreciate, even after everything.”

he doesn’t respond, and you think he’s taking in your words. you’re not sure why you didn’t specify ‘friend’ but you know he knows better than to have his hopes up anymore. you see that the tips of his ears are pink, the lazy smile on his face showing that he’s a bit tipsy too. he’s not looking at you, you’re not really sure what he’s thinking-

“i think… i think i love you.”

“what?”

his eyes immediately snap to yours, widening as he realizes what slipped out of his mouth. slightly panicking, he stands up, trying to backtrack, “no, i- look-”

“what did you say?”

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it-”

“what does that even mean? you can’t just randomly say you love me and then take it back?”

he chooses not to answer right away, eyes darting all around as he tries to come up with an answer. he can fix this, he can help himself, it’s just… he doesn’t really want to. it’s almost selfish with how he feels a little relief with his confession. “since you’re asking,” he starts, “i… i like you. i’ve liked you for a while now.”

when he looks at you, the anger from before is still there. you’re biting down on your lip, hands balled at your sides as his words hit you. “jaehyun… do you know how wrong that is? since when? after you rejected me?”

“no, i- fine. yes, after i rejected you. i know it’s wrong and i know i shouldn’t but it clicked for me, even if it was a little late.”

“a little late? jaehyun, you’re telling me this after you know i’m talking to someone. you knew that there’d be a high chance that i wouldn’t feel the same. i know you’re not that dumb.”

“but that’s how you felt when you asked me out? even if there was a chance that i would say no to you, you still did it, right? that’s exactly how i feel, how bad would it be if i tried?”

a shocked laugh leaves you, “that isn’t fair! you’re not being fair! you’re not thinking about how i would feel knowing this!”

you think he knows that it’s not the same between you and him. you confessed because you genuinely thought you had a chance with him. jaehyun’s only confessing because you’re talking to jungwoo. 

“i should’ve never let this happen! fuck, i knew if i kept talking to you, something bad would happen.”

he scoffs, wanting to call out your bluff. “i never forced you to come over and talk. you weren’t forced to come over and have sex with me. you could’ve stopped this at any time, but you kept coming back to me.”

you let out an exasperated sound, “we were friends, jaehyun. friends hang out and talk, that’s literally all we were doing.”

he snaps, “friends don’t fuck. friends don’t hold each other after sex. you can’t say that you didn’t feel anything between us. that’s the whole reason i called you for sex the other day, i needed you."

you can hear how loud your heart is pounding in your chest. your head hurts already, the faint song playing in the other room only adding to the pain. there’s nothing more that you want to do than just go home. you wish you could’ve been more clear, you wished you would’ve drawn a clearer line between the two of you. now you’re stuck like this.

you sigh out, mumbling into the quiet air, “if i had known that you were gonna be like this, i would’ve made sure to end whatever we had as soon as possible.”

“if you never met jungwoo, then this probably never would’ve happened. i could’ve asked you out the normal way, but you kind of forced me into drunkenly confessing to you.”

you send a glare straight at him, “do not assume how i would feel in any situation. the fact that you didn’t even want to tell me that you liked me says everything i need to know.”

“how was i supposed to tell the girl i rejected that i like her now?”

“exactly! don’t you see how fucked up that is?”

he shrugs, closing himself off before you can start up again. you know how he gets, pretending that none of this really matters to him. it’s childish, and you know he knows it. you don’t know what else to do. if he can’t sort himself out, there’s no reason for you to be here anymore.

you’re quick to get up and out of the kitchen. he doesn’t look at you at first, but as soon as he hears you pack your stuff into your bag and your car keys in hands, he follows right after you. there’s a startled look on his face, you can tell that he didn’t think you would leave him. you watch as he raises a hand to stop you, but quickly puts it down after some thought.

you let out a breath, “i’m leaving. you can decide if you want to pull yourself together and grow up if you wanna talk. if not, don’t even bother texting me.”

he doesn’t try to argue, watching as you walk out his door. he can’t feel anything, doesn’t really want to do anything other than lay in bed. he walks over to his bedroom, the sound of a familiar slow song getting louder as he walks closer. he makes it inside, pausing the song before laying down onto his back. it’s quiet again.

he just ruined everything.

for the first time in a while, your life feels kinda normal.

there’s not a lot for you to worry about if you ignore a few things. work is fine, your friends are celebrating your freedom, and jungwoo comforts you in every way possible. you realize that jungwoo might’ve been everything you’ve been looking for in a person. he stays close when you need him and gives you space when you ask.

you tell jungwoo that you’re happy to have him right now. you tell him that you’re sorry for acting a little weird recently (he quickly denies your claim). you don’t tell him exactly what happened with jaehyun, but you can assume he at least knows a little. he doesn’t try to pry it out of you, choosing not to remind you of something you don’t want to think of.

and you’re not thinking about it. you haven’t gotten any texts from jaehyun, so why should you care?

as much as you don’t want to admit it, it does feel weird not having jaehyun in your life. you didn’t realize how much you thought about him or how much time was dedicated to being with him. it didn’t seem to matter at first because you thought it was because you both were friends, but you realize he was kind of stringing you along.

there’s a lot of time you have to yourself now. you don’t have to worry about jaehyun calling you randomly throughout the day or one of his spontaneous meetups. you don’t have to think about his you up? texts during the late hours of the night. you don’t have to think about any hurt he’s caused you in the past. none of it will mean anything anymore.

until you get a call from johnny.

“hey, johnny. what’s up?”

he skips right past your greeting, “why doesn’t jaehyun want to hang out with you?”

you’re shocked for multiple reasons. one, of course, johnny already knows your business. two, how dare jaehyun say he doesn’t want to hang out with you. you scoff, “what exactly did he say?”

“he said he was busy, but, like i know he’s not gonna be busy. and that obviously means that something is going on between you two.”

you want to scream into your phone’s microphone. jaehyun doesn’t deserve to set the boundary between you two. he was the one who messed it up in the first place, so why is he the one trying to put distance between you two? “johnny,” you start, “do you promise not to tell anyone about what i’m about to tell you? you can’t even tell jaehyun.”

he lets out a little shocked sound and you can imagine him sitting up straight. he whispers into the call, “what is it?”

“the other night, jaehyun told me he likes me. actually, in his own words, he said he thinks he loves me.”

he gasps loudly into the phone, “what? are you sure? like jaehyun said that? jaehyun?”

“exactly! it doesn’t even seem like something he’d do! he said it was because we were both drinking.”

“that doesn’t even matter,” johnny sighs, “you don’t go around saying that to your friend, especially not the friend you rejected before.”

“you get it! that’s literally what i told him! i need to sit down with you so we can discuss this.”

it’s quiet on the other side of the call, and by his silence, you can tell he’s planning something. it’s never good when he does, so you try to call out his name before he can think any more, but you’re too late.

“i think you should sit down with him to talk about what happened.”

you sarcastically laugh, “he hasn’t even texted me, there’s no way i’m talking to him first.”

“i didn’t say you should text him first, i’m just saying that you both should talk. you can’t just leave this off on bad terms.”

“and if i want to?”

“i know you don’t. plus, it feels like i’m a child whose parents are going through divorce, so you need to fix this.”

you whine into the phone, which causes johnny to laugh on the other end. he’s right, you don’t want this to end badly with jaehyun. even if you both decide to never talk again, you don’t want to have a strained relationship with him. after a few moments, you answer him, “fine, but don’t have your hopes up because even i don’t know what’s gonna happen.”

“okay, perfect, because i already kinda convinced jaehyun to meet up with you.”

“johnny!”

he defends himself, “like i said, i’m basically seeing you guys go through a divorce. please bring my family back together.”

“whatever, do what you want to do.” johnny cheers from the other end of the call, quickly letting out an you won’t be disappointed! before he hangs up, not even letting you say goodbye. as much as you try to hide it, a part of you is happy at the thought of jaehyun wanting to work things out with you.

even if you don’t know what you want just yet, you’ll get yourself ready.

you realize you’re no longer happy when a few days later, jaehyun shows up to your front doorstep, a frown painted on his face.

you almost want to slam the door on him when he speaks. his voice is quiet, “why did you tell johnny you didn’t want to hang out with me?”

as soon as he stops talking, it all clicks in your head. johnny tricked you both. you’ll have to get mad at him later, but for right now, you have to deal with jaehyun who’s pretending he didn’t just ignore you for almost two weeks. you reluctantly let him in, watching as he walks in almost too normally.

no one bothers talking, no one trying to make the first move. you’re staring him down and he tries to ignore the hard stare you’re giving him. while you’re glaring at him, you can see how he looks more tired than usual. the faint lines under his eyes give it away, and when he does finally make eye contact with you, it’s soft, no anger behind his eyes.

you step back, breathing in before speaking, “let’s go talk in my room.”

he sends you a soft smile, not needing you to guide him to your room. he knows the whole layout by now, feeling more like he’s leading you to your own room. he opens the door for you, choosing to let you walk in first. it’s awkward when you have to motion for him to step in, watching him not really knowing what to do.

you move to sit on your bed, and he moves to sit at your desk. it’s not as awkward as it is tense. you don’t know what to say, you didn’t plan on him coming over. his eyes are darting across your room, his eyebrows furrowed as he presumably tries to start the conversation.

“how are you doing?”

you roll your eyes at the simple question, “i’ve been doing fine. i feel like my life’s been a lot calmer since that day.”

he leans forward in his seat, “really? i feel like i’ve lost ten years of my life.”

deserved, you think. you gather all your thoughts before speaking, “i think the days that i spent without thinking about you really changed how i feel. i realized just how much i was entangled in your life. it wasn’t good for me.”

he looks off to the side, taking in your words. you see the hurt that settles in his face, you see how it’s going to be burned into his memory. he smacks his lips, “i think for me it’s the opposite. i realized during this time without you really solidified my feelings. i can’t lie and say that my feelings have changed, because they haven’t.”

you feel anger bubbling up inside you, but you can’t do that today. you take a few breaths, calming yourself down as you focus on what you’re most curious about, “why did you start liking me?”

“i don’t even know. i know it’s shitty of me to realize how much you mean to me after i said no to your confession. i understand why you said no to me.”

“i’m sorry for getting mad so quickly. it was just so out of the blue, i never would’ve expected you to say that.”

you pat the spot on your bed next to you, calling his name softly. he slowly moves to your side, his eyes focused on his hands splayed across his knees. after all this time without you, he wishes he could hold your hand in his, even if he tried to play it off as a joke. it’s been too long without your touch. you took away the only thing that kept him close to you. 

“can i ask something?”

he nods, putting all of his focus on you. it feels intense when he does, you haven’t had him this close in a long time. you clear your throat, “this wasn’t all because of jungwoo, right?”

he sighs, his jaw clenching as he thinks of the right words to say. he’s deep in thought, and you almost want to tell him to drop it all together. he decides to speak up, “honestly? seeing you both together kind of made me realize my feelings. i was losing you to him, and i really couldn’t handle it. i’m not trying to ruin whatever you have going on with him, i promise.”

you don’t know what else to say. so much of this could've been prevented if you kept an eye out for yourself. you also wouldn’t want to go back and change what you’ve done. you don’t regret ever being jaehyun’s friend, you don’t regret all the memories you’ve made with him. 

“so, this… this is really over then?”

you shrug, “i would think so.”

it’s quiet for a few moments, the both of you letting the thought seep in. “this” has never been defined between the two of you, but you can assume it’s almost everything you do together. what you’re feeling now is close to how you felt when he first rejected you. what’s different now is that you can’t help but feel just a little relieved, ending something that probably should’ve never happened.

in another world, you think you would’ve reciprocated jaehyun’s feelings. it would’ve been easy, pieces easily falling into place as you both fall for each other. it’s almost as if it were supposed to be something that was natural. but jaehyun had given the time for you to move on, and you did. it was too late for him to realize his own feelings.

“we can still be friends if you can handle that.”

he laughs incredulously, “if i can handle that? i’m a grown man, thank you very much.”

“yeah? well i think if i were you, i wouldn’t be able to hold back my feelings,” you tease.

he grumbles, “too soon, you’re too mean.”

jaehyun watches a pretty smile adorn your face, and if it weren’t for the current circumstances, he would tell you how pretty you look. he keeps the thought to himself though, opting to ask, “how about one last drink together as friends who are a little more than friends?”

you hum, pretending to think about it. you watch worry wash over his face, and you do feel bad a little bit. “one more time, just for your sake. you look like you might start crying.”

he groans as you walk away to get some wine for the both of you. you’re by yourself for a few moments as you pour the drinks. you feel awkward in here by yourself, left with thoughts and memories of all the things you’ve done together. all the times you’ve had sex, all the times where he’s felt like your boyfriend, but none of it holds to him being your friend.

you don’t know if you can continue being friends with him. 

it would be unfair to jungwoo. you haven’t told him the exact dynamics of how your friendship with jaehyun worked, but you can assume he knows most of it. 

you return to the sight of jaehyun looking around your room. he’s been in here too many times to count, and yet seeing him here now, it’s weird. he feels out of place, he feels almost like a stranger in your own apartment. despite the history you have with him, it seemed to fall apart so easily as soon as conflict hit.

he thanks you quietly when you hand him the glass. you take a small sip of your drink, watching jaehyun do the same from the corner of your eye. after the drink, he chooses to speak, “so how are you and jungwoo?’

“that’s how you want to start our small talk?” you splutter out.

“i mean, can i not be interested in my friends' love life?”

well it’s hard when you were directly involved in it. you shrug, taking another small sip before speaking, “i’m… really happy that i’m talking to him. he takes care of me, he’s always asking how i’m doing. it’s nice being with him.”

you can tell jaehyun is trying not to let your words affect him, “are you both… officially dating yet?”

his words make you shy, your facing feeling hot at the idea of dating jungwoo. brushing off his words, you laugh, “no! not yet, at least. i think i’d say yes if he asked me out.”

he nods, his head hanging heavy, hand twirling the wine in his glass. you know what he’s thinking, you don’t need to ask him. you can’t be his, you won’t ever be his. you think that this was never supposed to work out, no matter how hard you tried or how much you think he could’ve loved you. he wasn’t meant for you.

“okay, one more thing.”

he nods, turning his attention back on you.

“did you really mean it back then, like, when you said that you weren’t ready for a relationship?”

“yes, i was scared. i think back then, even though i didn’t realize it, i also had feelings for you. but it was… it just wasn’t the right time for me. even though i liked spending so much time with you, there were things i wanted to figure out first.”

you cock your head to the side, “like?”

he hums in thought for a bit, trying to remember times from so long ago. thinking back, you remember how you felt old, you felt like you were already an adult. but he’s right, there were still things you didn’t know about yourself, and you wonder if dating jaehyun would’ve stopped you from figuring them out.

“i guess… mostly wanting to decide what i wanted to do with my life. now that i’ve somewhat settled, i feel more confident in what i want. even though it came at the worst time, i was so sure that i could see you in my future.”

the confession doesn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. you can relate to how he feels. for the longest time, you felt that you needed jaehyun in your life. it wasn’t until after he confessed to you that you saw that there’s more to your life than him. you’re thankful for all the time you’ve had with him, but there’s still so much more for you to do.

it’s like this for a few more hours, the sunset bleeding into the night time. you both have a few more drinks, jaehyun eventually turns on music playing on his phone. you feel a lot better now. you only want the best for jaehyun, and you think that this is the best for the both of you.

jaehyun has to leave at some point, one of the last buses back to his place coming soon. you don’t want him to go, you don’t want him to leave the comfort of your bedroom. there’s a small part of you that’s scared that you’ll never see him here again. you try to remind him that this is what you both need, clear, distinct boundaries.

you walk him to your door, “you’ll text me once you're at your apartment, right?”

he shuffles over, “yeah, i will. johnny will make sure i get there safe.”

you nod, opening the door for him. he walks out, watching you with an unsure look on his face. a part of you wants to let him in, wants to let him give you one last kiss. it’s wrong, your grip on your door getting tighter at the thought. he still has a strong pull on you, your hand wanting to reach for his.

it’s not meant to be.

“goodnight, jaehyun. i’ll see you soon, okay?”

“alright, goodnight. i… i’ll be here if you ever need me. i’ll wait.”

you smile, “i know. thank you, get back safe.”

he nods, waving you off before he walks away. you close the door, locking it behind you. it’s quiet now, no soft conversations, no laughing, just the sound of your feet pattering on the floor. 

you don’t really feel like crying. you don’t feel like there’s something missing inside you. jaehyun used to be a big part of you, but as time went on, he took up less and less space.

there’s more important things to worry about than someone who couldn’t make time for you. you have time to figure things out now, you have time to figure out what you really want, whether that’s jungwoo or someone else. 

you’ve never felt better. 

as jaehyun scrolls through instagram, he sees a post from you. it’s been a while since he’s seen you in person, so he’ll take anything he can get. the first few photos are of you, and the next few are pictures of things he assumes you found pretty. the last photo is what makes him pause, a photo of what he can only assume is jungwoo holding your hand.

he checks the comments, some of your friends replying with different emojis, all to tease you with. they all seem to know about your budding relationship with jungwoo. jaehyun’s glad that it’s going well for the both of you. it’s what you deserve after what he put you through.

he hung out with you and johnny the other day. as much as everyone tried to be normal, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that he changed the dynamics of your friendship. you and johnny were the same, easily laughing and joking around with each other. it’s not exactly awkward when you and jaehyun talk, but the air around you is certainly different.

it’s what should’ve happened, at the start of it all you both should’ve set rules. jaehyun realizes that he would’ve never gotten to see you in the ways he did. warm lights from his kitchen painting over your skin, or when the light from the moon would shine over your body while he holds you close. he wouldn’t trade those memories for anything.

you were all he had, and losing you is something he will always regret. he knows that you’re doing good now, not just with jungwoo. he doesn’t want to come in and ruin what you’ve built up. it doesn’t matter how much he wants to hold you in his arms or kiss you, you’re better off without him.

he just wishes he had more time.

a/n: hey people... what did we think of this ending... jaehyun is my friend i do not hate him i like him... anyways i hoped u like this... it took longer than i thought it would but im glad its out HOORAYYY

taglist: @froggyforyoongi @the-universe-in-you-jjh @ppeachyttae @omlhyck @hazyhae @haechology @jaehyunful @girlwholoveslpreppyattire @diorcities @hrts4doie @ohmytyong @ecvm5236 @faeryus @riri4andy @rjtulips @missesgirl @shiorebirth @sugaringgcaramel @camomillie @ninicornposts @il02isa @sincerelyneo @perfumejamal @justhgiwo @lovingyoulovinme2 @babyriannie @eunseoksimp @jeonreal @mawnehkah @shoetaroshoe (thank u all omg 🫂❤️)

[the-thing-inside-your-closet]

Danny and Ellie are forced to flee Amity Park. And find themselves in Coast City.

I started writing this with the intention of only writing a short prompt, but then I just kept going until I felt like I’d written enough.

Danny gets caught up in yet another fight with Skulker, only this time it wasn’t because Skulker had come for Danny. No. He’d come for Ellie. And she was already weak from fleeing the GIW who had shot at her the moment she arrived in Amity Park.

Whether Skulker is after Ellie for Vlad, or because he wants her pelt can be up to you.

Either way, he manages to beat Skulker and captures him in the thermos. Just as he lets out a long sigh of relief he hears the sound of an ecto-gun being fired and then his side is burning and he’s falling. He’s falling too fast and it hurts and he can’t stop-

Danny guys the ground hard. His head is spinning, his skin feels like it’s burning, and he can hear the stomping of feet as someone runs towards him.

He needs to get up. He needs to get away. Find Ellie and make sure she’s safe. He’s needs to MOVE- but he can’t. Black spots for his vision as he manages to stand up and his eyes meet the end of his mother’s gun.

Before anyone can speak, he’s falling again, handing face first in the dirt. And the familiar feeling of de-transforming washes over him.

The last thing he hears before loosing consciousness is the grief stricken sound of his parent’s voice as three voices shout in unison.

“OH MY GOD DANNY!”

“DANNY ARE YOU OKAY?!”

“NO, GET AWAY FROM HIM!”

When Danny wakes up again, he’s in his room, the curtains are drawn but he can see the sliver of sunlight pouring in through the gap underneath. He notes that his body aches, but not as much as usual after a fight like that. And there’s a warmth enveloping his hand. It’s soothing, and he almost considers going back to sleep when he notices that there’s a ghost in the room. And all too fast he’s sitting up and staring into the exhausted, red, puffy eyes of his mother looking back at him from where she’s sitting holding his hand in hers.

Just behind her he sees Ellie floating just above the ground talking quietly with his dad.

“Danny,” his mother’s voice draws his attention along with Jack and Ellie’s. “How are you feeling, sweetheart? Are you in any pain?”

He didn’t notice when she’d helped him to lay back down again. “Do you need anything? Ellie here was just telling us about how regular pain medication doesn’t work as well for the two of you. But I’m sure we could find something for you that might-”

“Mom,” Danny rasps. Man his throat was dry.

As if reading him mind Ellie appears by his mother’s side holding out a glass of water with a straw in it. Maddie helps Danny to sit up a little more so he can drink.

“Mom,” he tries again, sounding better this time, “I’m okay. I promise. It’s not that bad!” He starts to lie as the panic sets in. He de-transformed in front of them. He knows he did. And the fear shows on his face, it must, because before he can even begin trying to think up an excuse his mother is crying.

“Oh Danny, it’s okay. We know. And we’re not angry at you. We love you. So much.”

And Danny’s heart swells at hearing it. “You don’t hate me for being Phantom?” He asks quietly.

“No! We could never hate you Dann-o!” His dad’s cheery tone doesn’t disguise the sadness and guilt etched into his face. “We’re just…so sorry that we never noticed before. And that we…” he can’t finish his sentence but he doesn’t need to. Danny already knows what he’s apologise for.

“I’m okay. I promise. I heal fast!” Danny tied to reassure them.

It seems to help a little, though his parents still have a grim look in their eyes. As they make connections in just how Danny would know that about himself.

And Ellie, with perfect timing to cut the tension, announces happily, “Danny! Good news! Your parents said I could stay with you!”

Ellie had told his parents while Danny was unconscious about being his clone. She saw how they fretted over Danny, cleaning and dressing his injuries with the love and care she only imagined from a parent that truly loves you. And they had accepted her almost right away. Jack even crying as he proudly declared himself a father of three.

Jack soon excused himself, saying he’ll go see if Jazz needs any help with cooking lunch. Danny and his mother share a look, and with a final kiss to his head says she’ll go make sure nothing gets brought back to life. And she asks Ellie to please make sure Danny stays in bed and rests.

Danny and Ellie are left alone in his room, and it gives Danny the chance to really revel in everything. His parents accept him. They love him, both sides of him. And they accepted Ellie too! And said she can stay! She doesn’t have to be alone anymore.

Now, a lot can happen in the span of a few seconds, let alone minutes. In the time it took for Maddie to reach the kitchen, their front door was kicked down and a group of GIW agents had stormed in demanding they hand over the ectoplasmic scum they were harbouring.

Jack and Maddie drew their weapons and planted themselves directly in front of the GIW agents. The agents state that a ghost shield was put up around the house to prevent any ghosts from escaping, and by law any ghosts within the premises were ti be handed over for destruction immediately. Jazz runs upstairs to Danny’s room to warn them that the GIW were inside the house and that they needed to run. They need to get to the portal NOW.

With all the authority of an older sister Jazz tells Ellie to grab the go bag Danny had insisted on having prepared, and picks Danny up despite his protests that he could walk. Or well, fly. Ellie turns them all invisible and intangible and takes them down to the lab.

They can hear the sound of shouting, and something breaking and a gun being fired all coming from upstairs as Jazz opens the portal for Danny and Ellie.

Another shot rings out. And then another, and more shouting.

“Quickly you two need to go!”

Another shot.

“Aren’t you coming with us?” Danny, now Phantom, asks suddenly as he and Ellie are preparing to enter the Ghost Zone.

Two more shots.

“Someone needs to be here to deactivate the portal in case the guys in white make it down here. I’ll be fine. Mom and dad will be okay, they’re not here for us so you two need to go. Now!” There’s banging on the lab’s door and Jazz shoves both Danny and Ellie into the portal. The last thing Danny hears before the portal closes behind them is another shot being fired.

Danny is scared and angry as he and Ellie are forced to fly through the zone with no currently known way to get back to his family. He needs to make sure they’re okay. He needs to protect them.

But right now Danny is still hurt, and he needs to get himself and Ellie somewhere safe. They begin to slowly make their way through the zone, looking for somewhere to rest and avoiding any ghosts that might want to pick a fight.

Ellie isn’t sure how long she and Danny have been moving for. It feels like it could have been days, or hours, or even minutes. But Danny can’t fly as quickly right now. He’s trying to keep a brave face for Ellie’s sake but she can see the exhaustion beginning to take hold of him.

So Ellie makes the executive decision to touch down somewhere to rest. She tells Danny she’s tired. Danny knows she isn’t and it’s only because she’s worried and wants him to rest. So he goes along with it and they make their way to the next floating island they come across and thank the ancients it’s empty. The two halfas touch down and Danny slumps over as he sits against a nearby rock. Ellie pulls out some energy bars that were tucked away in the go bag and hands one over to Danny.

They do this a few times, stopping to rest, as they gradually make their way to the Far Frozen. Ellie had insisted on going there, Frostbite would know what to do, and he would be able to help Danny with his injuries that had started bleeding again in all the commotion of escaping, and then flying and hiding from ghosts known to attack Danny regularly.

But unfortunately luck is not on their side yet again as a natural portal rips open directly in front of them, and closes behind them after spitting them out in a city they didn’t recognise.

That’s how Danny and Ellie find themselves in Coast City, hiding out in an old warehouse by the docs while Danny heals and they figure out how they’re going to get back home.

That is, until now.

Danny stares up at his little sister and sighs with the resigned tone of an exasperated older sibling.

“Ellie,” he takes a breath, “what did you do?”

“I’m my defence,” Ellie glares up at Green Lantern, who has Ellie scruffed by the back of her hoodie, before looking back at Danny, “I simply do not vibe with the law.”

[seungkw1]

make me — ksy

♡ pairing: kwon soonyoung x afab!reader ♡ theme: smut [18+ mdni], humor ♡ wc: 1.8k ♡ warnings: alcohol consumption, oral (m. receiving, f. receiving implied), handjob, hoshi is obsessed w boobs, hoshi is a simp, i ramble on about star wars for a bit at the beginning ♡ a/n: might have to do a pt. 2 to this one so lmk if anyone is interested in that 👀

“No it’s not.”

“Yes, it is!!”

“Soonyoung. Be so fucking for real right now.” 

Your roommate doesn’t usually drink, and you’re starting to see why. Two Jack & Cokes and he’s fucking gone already.

“I’m telling you y/n, The Rise of Skywalker is so fucking good. You should stop being a haterrrr,” he says, inches away from your face as he leans over to you, nearly pushing you off the couch. You’ve never been this physically close to him, though you’ve certainly thought about it (more than once). Your heart flutters from the proximity of his lips to yours, but you have more important matters at hand right now.

“I didn’t say I hated it, it’s just not that good compared to all the other Star Wars movies!”

He picks up his drink again. You stop him before he can take a sip, handing him a glass of water instead. 

“Well how would I know? I haven’t seen the other movies.”

“WHAT?!”

He takes a big gulp of the water. “I’ve only seen the new ones,” he admits with a shrug.

“Oh my god,” you mumble, resting your forehead against your palm in exasperation. You grab the remainder of his beverage and drink it all in one go. 

This argument isn’t that serious of course - you just need to calm your nerves a bit, considering Soonyoung has now placed your hand on your thigh as he blabbers on.

“Besides, seeing Kylo Ren and Rey finally kiss was great. I cheered.”

“You’re a fucking REYLO SHIPPER??”

“A what?” He blinks at you with heavy eyelids. “I don’t speak that language.”

“Kylo Ren and Rey made a terrible couple, it’s literally toxic. The plot between them should’ve never been a romance.”

“But I like romance!” he practically shouts in your face. You’ve always enjoyed bantering with Soonyoung for fun, but the alcohol in both of your systems is definitely upping the ante. You’ve seen him act ridiculous plenty of times before, but he’s on another level today.

“It’s fucking Star Wars, it doesn’t need romance!!” you shout back.

“Well I think it does!” he states indignantly.

“What do you know?? You haven’t seen the other movies!!”

“So I can’t have an opinion??”

“NO??”

“Why are you being so mean to meeeee,” Soonyoung whines, making big sad puppy dog eyes at you. “I’ve never done anything wrong in my life.”

“You’re literally insane. Get off of me!” you shout as he leans over onto you, practically clinging onto you in his drunken stupor.

He ignores you, getting even more up in your face. “You’re just mad because I have better taste in movies than you.”

“Will you just shut the FUCK UP???”

“MAKE ME!”

You pause, staring at him for a few moments too long. He stares back at you, confusion spreading across his face. Then-

You kiss him.

Your lips press softly against his for only a few moments. You pull back, looking at your roommate eye to eye, watching his inebriated brain trying to process what just happened. As if a lightbulb goes off above his head, it suddenly clicks. He swallows nervously.

“What was that for?” he hesitantly asks, barely more than a whisper.

“I…” you start, but quite honestly you don’t know where that came from. Sure, you’ve found Soonyoung attractive since the day you met him - and sure, living with him has led to a few domestic fantasies here and there. But you are friends, nothing more - your boundaries are unspoken, but clearly established. 

Or so you thought.

Soonyoung’s dark eyes stare into yours. Panic alarms are going off in your head. You fucked up you fucked up you fucked up oh god you fucked up big time…

“I’m so sorr-”

You don’t get to finish that sentence. Soonyoung’s mouth aligns with yours, kissing you hungrily, his hands grasping onto your arms. Shock reverberates through your body as he makes out with you, his hands sliding to your back, pulling your body close against his as his tongue pokes at your lips, requesting entrance. You let him in. He squeezes you even tighter against him as he kisses you like his life depends on it.

After what felt like about a thousand years, you break apart, barely - his lips hovering mere inches in front of yours. The look he gives you is one you’ve never seen him make before - he gazes at you like you’re the most delicious thing he’s ever seen, and he wants to devour you.

You try to speak, but nothing comes out. You’re simply dumbstruck.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” he mutters as his hands drop to your hips, still holding onto you for dear life.

“You… like me?”

You silently curse yourself at how dumb you sound. Asking him if he likes you, as if you were in fucking middle school.

“Yeah,” he replies emphatically. “I really really really like you.”

Your head spins, the intoxication doing nothing to help you process this information.

“Um… since when?” 

Soonyoung is still drunk as hell, but he speaks clear as day.

“Short answer, since we moved in together.”

You wait for him to elaborate. He doesn’t.

“And the long answer?”

He shifts awkwardly, doing a very poor job of trying to hide his boner.

“Middle of July. It was hot as balls. I woke up that morning to you making pancakes. You were wearing a light blue tank top with nothing underneath, and-” he trails off. You raise an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to go on.

“And my god, your boobs looked perfect. The pancakes smelled good, but all I wanted was your tits in my mouth.” 

His hand delicately trails up to your breasts, where he is currently staring, taking one of them and squeezing it. He lets out a soft groan as he does.

“Fuck, even better than I imagined.”

“Is that why you took so long to come out for breakfast that day?” you say as your fingertips glide over his thigh, moving toward the very obvious bulge that has formed in his pants. You grab his cock through the fabric. He practically yelps as you begin to caress it slowly.

“Y-yeah,” he answers, his voice going up an octave, practically melting under your touch. 

“So you’re saying that you went and jerked off while you thought of my tits.”

“Um,” he tenses up nervously, realizing what he’s just admitted to.

Before he can say anything else, you take your shirt off, leaving you in just your bra. If his eyes could physically pop out of his head on a pair of springs, they’d be doing just that right now.

You unclasp the hook, removing the undergarment and tossing it aside. He gawks at you - his cock twitches under your palm. You begin to stroke his length, but he immediately grabs your hand to stop you.

“I’ll cum in my pants if you keep doing that.” He’s still staring at your chest.

“Where would you rather cum?”

“I- what?” He looks up at you, his eyes darting between your mouth and your eyes, then back to your boobs, then back to your mouth. 

“Okay then,” you say as you slide off the couch.

“What’re you-” he asks, but freezes as you position yourself between his legs. His body tenses as you undo his belt, quickly unfastening the button and yanking the zipper down. The rock hard bulge protrudes through the fabric of his underwear, begging to escape. You pull the band down, freeing his already-leaking cock. You take the length in your hands, giving it a few slow strokes. He sinks into the couch with a loud groan.

“Oh my god,” he mumbles, your touch sending him to another planet. 

With a swirl of your tongue you lap up the precum dripping from his tip, causing him to let out the biggest whine. You wrap your lips around the head, slowly taking his length into your mouth. 

“Fuckkkkkkk, y/n…” 

He lets out a gasp as you swallow him to his base. He places one hand softly upon your head as you begin to move your mouth up and down his cock. Within seconds he is a moaning, blubbering mess.

“Feels so good baby, oh god don’t stop. You’re so fucking hot oh my god… fuckkkk…”

You increase your pace. Between moans he continues praising you, whining and whimpering, begging you for more. The man simply cannot shut up about how good you’re sucking him off.

And it’s making you so incredibly wet right now.

You want to touch yourself so badly, but your priority is pleasuring Soonyoung. And judging by the way he is wriggling under you, bucking his hips and fucking his cock into your throat, unintelligibly babbling as he moans your name - you’re doing a pretty damn good job.

“Oh fuck,” he cries out. “Fuck, y/n, gonna cum…”

The words are barely out of his mouth before hot white ropes are hitting the back of your throat. He grips onto your hair as he cums, cock pulsating in your mouth as he rides out his high. As he comes down, he collapses into the sofa - you slowly pull your mouth off of him, making a show of swallowing all of his cum.

“Jesus fucking Christ, y/n…”

You climb back up onto the couch. He immediately leans in and starts kissing you.

“Thank you,” he murmurs between kisses.

“Are you seriously thanking me for sucking your dick?”

He shrugs as he wraps his arms around your waist. “You just gave me the best head of my life, least I can do is say thanks.”

“Actually,” he corrects himself right away, “I take that back. If you’ll let me, can I… may I please eat you out?”

You burst out laughing. He looks at you, puzzled.

“Sorry, if you don’t want-”

“No no no,” you tell him, still laughing. “It’s not that, I’ve just never had anybody ask me so politely like that before.”

His face lights up, hopeful. “So can I?” he pleads enthusiastically. “Pleaseeeeeeee? Please please please?”

You lean your head into his shoulder, giggling like an idiot.

“Soonyoung, you are truly one of a kind.”

He gently grabs your chin, tilting your head up until you are eye to eye. His nose presses into yours.

“Is that a yes?”

You smile as you kiss him.

“Yes, it’s a yes.”

He practically leaps off the couch, startling you. He grabs your hand, pulling you up and directing you toward his bedroom.

“Wait,” he says as he pauses. He looks at you very seriously.

“My room or yours?”

“Don’t care,” you respond eagerly.

He grins. “Yours, then.”

—

[seresinhangmanjake]

Do You Love?

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x wife!reader

Summary: Feyd is soft for his wife and only wants to know if she loves him. His wife just wants him to come home.

Notes/Warnings: fluff and a little angst and very light smut (still 18+), softy-soft Feyd, probably could do with a wedding prequel if people were interested, im sure there are typos. I think that's it.

Words: 1400

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist

He hates being away from you. Can't bear it. It takes less than two days for withdrawal from your lack of presence to settle in, and when it hits, it hits hard. The luminescence of your smile that threatens the darkness within him on his worst days; the delicate suppleness of your skin that introduced him to the softness and warmth of a human body; the specific quality and tone of your voice when you whisper and whimper and moan in his ear—he needs it. He needs you. He craves you until the second you’re in his arms again. He just wishes he could understand if you feel the same. He wishes he could know if you love him as much as he does you.

When you came into his life, you were a pawn for peace. A gift from one Great House to another. A reluctant bride who couldn’t choke back her tears on her wedding day. He’ll never forget the saltiness that lingered on his lips after the kiss that bound you to him forever. He can still feel the pang in his heart from seeing you finch when he guided the strap of your nightgown off your shoulder. 

It took ages for you to shed your fear; to allow him to hold you and kiss you and be inside of you, but those many months of ‘two steps forward, one step back’ have left him in a paralyzing state of identity crisis and uncertainty. You’ve turned him into a man who begs for scraps of reassurance that you care for him rather than a man who shows no mercy for love; a man so preoccupied with thoughts of his wife’s affection that not even his enemies are granted his full attention as he watches the light drain from their eyes. 

From the moment he leaves, he anticipates his return so you can quell his agitation, at least to some degree. The same words echo in his head each time he steps off a Harkonnen ship to search for you—hug me, hold me, kiss me, let my body inside of yours, tell me you love me—and in recent months you haven’t failed to do those things, with the exception of the last request. The day you tell him you love him will be the day he stops fearing you'll eventually grow bored with him. On that day, he’ll be happy, at peace. He’ll be unafraid of what his future with you will bring.

—

Reader POV

He often goes to Arrakis for a week or two, that’s not new. He must monitor things and fight Fremen when necessary. However, this time was different. There was something foreign in his eyes after he kissed your palm and boarded his ship to depart. Sadness? Pain? Worry? All three? You didn’t know, but it terrified you from how little he tried to disguise it. With each departure, it’s seemed his mood has worsened and you can't decipher its cause.

Now, ten days later, your fingernails are worn to nubs and dark circles have found home under your eyes from nightmares interrupting your sleep. They’re different every night but they always end with Feyd not coming home to you, and you don’t know how to cope. You tell yourself you’re crazy, that there’s no possibility of him being taken down with a Fremen knife or gobbled up by a sandworm or blown to bits from his ship getting shot out of the sky. He’s too smart, too quick, too trained for such things to claim his life. At the same time, however, the last person whose death you dreamt of was your mother’s, and while it’s rare your dreams are prophetic, that one came to fruition not five days later. Who is to say your dreams of your husband are not the same?

But you can’t lose Feyd, not when it feels like you just got him. When you married, your dread of navigating a new husband and life on Giedi Prime—both of which have a reputation for being cold and desolate and harsh—crippled your ability to see him for who he is. It’s only been the last few months that you’ve let yourself love and understand him, and you can’t imagine a reality in which you wake one morning knowing you will never have him again. You wouldn’t survive it. 

But you won't have to, because he's fine, perfectly safe—that's what you tell yourself. He told you he wouldn’t be away long and he wouldn’t say that unless he believed it, right?

Then again, believing he would be home soon doesn’t mean fate agrees. What if he's already gone? Wait, no. No, he wouldn't do that to you. He'll be home because he always makes it home. He’s fine. He’s safe. He would never leave you. You nod to yourself, swallowing hard. He’s fine. He’s safe. He would never leave. He’s fine. He’s safe. He would never leave.

--

Your body curls into the first touch of warmth you’ve had in a week and a half as a heavy weight rests in the dip of your waist and tugs you against a solid form. Plush lips ghost your temple. A heartbeat thrums in your ear and you feel the rise and fall of a chest. 

Oh, you like this dream. He’s so real in this dream. It’s the first dream where death is not at his heels.

“You don’t know how I miss you,” he mutters into your ear. Stands of your loose hair brush back from your face. “How unbearable it is.”

His voice is so clear, so beautiful and vivid that it’s almost like he’s really with you. Humming contently, you huddle further into him. “Then stop leaving me,” you mumble.

Breath catches in his chest, no longer moving at a steady rhythm. “You're awake?”

Your brows knit—that's not a very ‘dream-like’ question; it threatens your lovely illusion—and then your eyes snap open. 

“Feyd?” His nose is an inch from yours. Your hand raises to cup his cheek, just to see if he is real, and you gasp at how warm his skin is under your palm. “You're here,” you cry, quickly pushing him onto his back and crawling on top of him. 

You press your lips to his, hard. A whimper is pulled from your throat when he parts his mouth so you can get a taste of his tongue. Yes, he’s definitely real. 

Hands trail down your back to your ass, squeezing two handfuls of flesh and pushing your pelvis down onto his. He’s already hard and thick and pressing into you, the matching thin material of your nightgown and his sleep pants doing a pathetic job of maintaining any sort of barrier. 

Feyd slowly drags the ink-toned silk up the curves and dimples of your body until it pools at your waist. Fingers graze your skin as they move lower to slide through your slick bare folds, and at his touch, your brain goes absolutely fuzzy. You’re unashamedly desperate, refusing to take any longer to get what you need, but when you finally free him from his pants and he thrusts up into you, you both find yourselves stopping. The kiss breaks and you simply breathe in each other’s breaths as he stays nestled deep inside you. 

Your forehead falls to his. A fresh tear that you hadn’t noticed in your eye lands on his cheek. “You're ok,” you gently whimper, reassuring yourself of his safety. His nose nudges yours.

“When am I not?” he whispers as he catches the next tear with his thumb before it drops from your lower lashes. 

“In my nightmares.”

His brow pinches in curiosity, cock twitching within your walls. “You dream about me?” 

You lightly nod. “I thought this was a dream.”

“Why?”

“Because I had a sickening feeling you weren’t going to make it back this time. I know it was a routine trip, but I just couldn’t shake it,” you say. “And that would’ve killed me, Feyd. I love you.”

Feyd sucks in a short stream of air as his hips slightly buck up against yours. “You love me?” he repeats.

“Yes,” you exhale, riding the little high of pleasure that came from the sharp involuntary shift of his hips. “I was so scared to be right.”

Feyd's arms tighten around you and he tilts his chin up to connect your lips. Kisses travel along the line of your jaw and down the length of your neck. His tongue dips into the hollow of your throat. 

“I love you,” he tells you.

Your stuffy chuckle settles into a grin. “I know you do.”

---

tag: @avidreader73