#Throwing this into the void and never looking back | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

inkedells · 5 months ago

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pairing: old!logan x f!reader

Logan is sick and tired of you treating him like he's fragile. He'll ignore his relentless pain to show you what it's like to be taken apart, rough and slow, then fast and agonizing.

wc: 3.5k of pure smut

warnings: heavy smut, lap sitting, fingering, oral (f!receiving and m!receiving), dirty talk, facials, p in v, ruined orgasms, snowballing, kind of angsty, the claws come out, logan is angry with you, kinda toxic, definitely mean, but still kind of sweet, pwp basically, blood, but it's not bloodplay, it's just logan not caring if he's hurt, if i missed any let me know.

Logan comes home and throws himself back on that torn-up leather sofa, thumb flicking his lighter while the other holds a cigar. It’s less of a distraction from the ache in his bones, and more of a device to push you away. Because if you think he’s tired or angry or hurting, you won’t ask him to fuck you.

It’s not like he doesn’t want you. Of course he does. It’s the sympathy in your eyes when he gets tired from just a couple of minutes of thrusting that he hates. The whispered, “It’s okay. baby, I can ride you.” The gentle touches across his body and his neck and his face and his beard. It all reeks of pity. And if you were to sit him down one day and ask him why he hates being taken care of, he wouldn’t have an answer. He would push the voice in his head down into the void that all the strength he had left fell in, the voice shrinking until it’s nothing as it screams, because I’ve never been taken care of, and I would’ve loved it back when being taken care of wasn’t my only choice.

But it’s fine. You wouldn’t ever ask him that question because he knows for a fact that you don’t know. If you did, you wouldn’t be climbing onto his lap quietly, hands rubbing his sides as you press kisses to his neck.

“I missed you, Logan,” You whisper. Your hips aren’t moving; He knows he sat here like this to avoid fucking you, but he almost wishes you were seeking exactly that. Sex, as embarrassing as it would be for him, is better than your sick love. He doesn’t think you love in the way lovers do. It’s the kind of love meant for sick puppies, or the lonely old woman sitting on the bus with all her belongings in plastic bags.

He turns his head to take a drag of his cigar. Silence.

You hold his face, forcing him to look at you as you kiss him. Slow, chaste, no tongue. He feels scrutinized by your touches, and something nervous seats itself deep in his belly.

“How was your day?” You ask, your gaze snapping between his eyes.

Logan closes them. “I’m tired,” He says flatly.

“I know. It’s okay.”

There it is again. Pity.

He scoffs. It’s quiet. Barely there. He didn’t mean to. He watches your face fall the smallest bit. A year ago, he wouldn’t have noticed, and if he would’ve, he would blurt out an apology. Now, he does notice, but he secretly wants to watch it fall even further if it means you’ll realize how much you’ve been hurting him.

You swallow, your thumb rubbing his cheekbone. “I found an American poetry anthology in the basement today. 20th Century. My favorite poem was in it.”

He mumbles, “In a Station of the Metro. T.S. Elliot.” Remembering the poem you told him about months ago sounds too much like sorry. He wishes he’d pretended to forget.

“Ezra Pound,” You correct. Your smile tells him he’s forgiven for an apology he never offered. “If you can recite it I’ll be impressed.”

“I’m not reciting a goddamn poem.” He sounds sarcastic, and it relieves you, but then you kiss him and he’s wound tight again.

You sigh as you pull back. “What’s bothering you, baby?”

“Nothing’s bothering—”

“What’s bothering you?” You interject.

He shakes his head, clenching his jaw. He makes the decision to sacrifice his dignity for the sake of stopping this conversation. You never could resist an orgasm, especially one caused by him. “Enough of that.”

“What?”

But he’s putting out his cigar and lifting you off his lap with a suppressed grunt, then pushing you down on the couch.

“Logan,” You protest.

He continues undoing the drawstring of your pajamas, with a kind of slippery urgency that tells you he's trying to shut you up more than he's trying to satiate his own desire.

You sit up straight, swatting his hand away. “Stop.”

He withdraws immediately, breathing hard through his nose as he looks down at the floor. He was wrong, before, about you not knowing. You definitely know, because you don’t place a loving hand on his thigh and you don’t kiss his shoulder. He’s grateful.

Instead, you observe his profile, then the quiet tremor in his hand. The impossible stillness of the rest of him. He tends to do that when his nerves are on fire. Thinks being a statue is what people who aren’t in chronic pain do.

“Don’t do that,” He mumbles, feeling your eyes on him. “I don’t need you feeling sorry, or whatever—whatever the fuck else goes through your head when you’re around me.”

You say nothing. That’s the most he’s said about his feelings in a while. He knows it, so he forces himself to say nothing, too. It doesn’t last long.

“I’m not dying.” His voice cracks a little at the end and he fights the urge to squeeze his eyes shut.

“I know.” The words come out in a tumble, as if you’re rushing to participate in his lie.

“Then stop looking at me like I’m dying.”

“Okay.” Tears prickle your eyes but you blink them away.

“Okay,” He repeats.

You take a deep breath. “But it’s okay to be cared for, Logan.”

He laughs incredulously, and suddenly his volume is rising and his voice is firm. “Would you just—Would you just quit being my fuckin’ mommy? Would you?”

He only lets your silence marinate for a second before he rushes in to kiss you, ignoring the cramps in his muscles as he tugs your neck forward roughly. You squeak against his mouth, fighting his impossible grip on you, but you give up with a shaky exhale through your nose when your efforts prove useless.

“I can take care of you, too,” He grits out. It would sound sweet if it weren’t for the frustration in his tone. He pushes you onto the couch the same way he did moments before as he opens your legs by your knees and settles between them. He sucks a dark mark onto your neck, his fingers digging bruises in your ribs.

“I know you can,” You reassure him. You can see where this is going. “And I love when you do.” You gasp when he pulls your shirt up over the curve of your breasts.

“No. You don’t.” He pinches one of your nipples and sucks the other into his mouth for a brief second. “It’s okay. I’ll show you so you don’t forget again. You won’t want to get ruined any other way.”

“Logan,” You sigh.

He hums against the soft skin just underneath your breast as his hands ravage your body. He begins to unsheathe the adamantium claws in one of his hands so he can rip your top open. It’s slow and excruciating, so he closes his eyes, but the pain is over too soon and his suspicions are confirmed when he opens his eyes to see them stuck halfway.

You don’t expect him to lean back and individually tug each blade free. There’s blood, and now it’s dripping onto your belly, and he mumbles something that sounds like an apology as he wipes the dots of red away with his thumb.

But the hazel in his eyes is alive again. You hope it’s you that did that. Hope it’s not the pain or the sight of his own blood. You want to ask him, just to make sure. You don’t like hurting, right? You just really like me—

He slices through your shirt, careful not to graze your skin, and you try to ignore the fact that he’s never that cautious with himself, but you can’t.

“Logan, you’re bleeding.” Your voice is unstable.

“It’ll heal,” He says quickly, passively. He wipes his burning palm on his wifebeater.

“But that takes a long time now.”

He meets your eyes, his movements frozen. He’s angry and you’re not stupid. You’re pitying him again. He needs you to stop fucking pitying him. When he speaks, his voice is deep and rough and slow, and you would be scared if he wasn’t your Logan. “Are you done?”

You don’t know what to say, so you just close your eyes and nod. You hear his claws retract faster than when they came out, and almost simultaneously, he’s shoving that same hand under your waistband as two of his calloused fingers push themselves into your cunt.

You arch toward him involuntarily, a ragged moan falling from your lips as he tugs your pajamas off your legs and spits on your pussy to ease the slide of his fingers.

Each groan he pulls from your throat is a step toward dispelling the doubt from your body. Doubt of his capabilities, of his strength, of his devotion to you.

“Beg me to fuck you,” He demands, fingering you roughly.

Your mind is cloudy at this point, from sadness or arousal or both, but you give him what he wants. “Fuck me,” You whisper, your eyelids about to flutter shut as you shed a tear.

But then you catch Logan smiling.

He grabs your jaw with his free hand, and you look at him immediately. “You’re gonna let me use it, right? Get myself off?” You lazily trace his features with your gaze—His nose, his wrinkles, his beard—because you know if it were your fingers instead he’d mistake it for tenderness and get mad again.

You nod, but it’s weak with how hazy everything is.

“Good girl.”

“Please,” You sigh, “I need you inside of me. I need to—I need it.”

“I know. I know what you’re feeling before you feel it.” He lets the pad of his thumb draw quick circles on your clit. “What? Thought I couldn’t hear you playing with yourself in the shower? If I can hear your heartbeat when I walk through the door, what makes you think I wouldn’t have heard you whining my name?”

“Logan,” You sigh, your hips lifting off the couch, coaxing his fingers deeper for as long as possible before he’s shoving you back down with the heel of his palm.

“I’m gonna play with you now. I’ll fuck you after, don’t worry your pretty head about it.”

“What do you mean, play with me?” You breathe, fighting to keep your eyes open as he finds your g-spot.

He grins dirtily, in a way that makes your head spin and your thighs clench around his hand. You’re barely processing his words as he bends down to mumble in your ear, “Right when you’re about to make a mess on my fingers, I’m gonna stop. Then I’m gonna go down on you. And I’m gonna lick your pretty pussy, maybe even fuck you with my tongue if you’re good. And guess what? Guess what I’m gonna do when you’re this close?”

“You’re gonna stop,” You whine.

“I’m gonna stop,” He nods, and it’s mocking, but it’s gentle, and he’s fucking killing you with the way he’s talking right now. “But I’m not mean. I’ll give you a break. You can calm down when my dick is in your mouth, okay?”

“Okay,” You breathe, your hips unabashedly grinding on his fingers. But you want to reassure him he is mean, and you especially want to tell him how much you love it. “Logan, I’m gonna—”

He withdraws his fingers from you so fast it almost burns. You clench around nothing, your lower half spasming as your orgasm barely approaches before falling away again. Only a hint of pleasure is able to make it through the cracks, and you cling onto it, hoping if you focus hard enough, the wave will come back. It doesn’t. You should regret warning Logan that you were about to finish, but all you feel is comfort now that he’s finally proud of you again.

Another tear streams down the side of your face, landing in your hair. Logan’s watching you as he pets your thigh, his lips parted when he leans down over you. He kisses your wet cheek softly, his beard rough on your skin. It’s unlike him to offer you affection this gracefully during sex. It’s always shaky limbs and suppressed groans and dirty kisses. Both of you know it.

He moves down your body, until his face is hovering over your cunt. He doesn’t have his reading glasses on, so he has to pull his head back and squint as he spreads your folds with his thumbs, studying what you look like. He licks a stripe over you. A second, longer one, before he zeroes in on your clit. You can do nothing except lay there and take it as your hips twitch from overstimulation under his firm hands.

“Oh my god,” You whisper, your fingers twisting in his hair. “F-Fuck.”

He moans at that, pressed right up against you, the sound deep and delicious and vibrating. “Feel good?” He asks teasingly with a nip to your inner thigh.

“What do—What the fuck do you think?”

He breathes a laugh. It’s short and airy, not frustrated like before, and a warmth ignites itself in the back of your mind. It’s overpowering even the feeling of his mouth licking and sucking your most sensitive area; It’s the relief that he’s still hiding the Logan you fell in love with somewhere in there.

You wind your fingers in his hair and scratch his scalp. You try to do it lovingly, although it comes across as sexual and Logan’s breath hitches in pleasure against your pussy instead. So as you suppress a gasp from the pure skill of his tongue, you show your affection differently—you hold the wounded hand he has resting face-up beside your hip. The cuts embedded there are easy to avoid as your thumb rubs the lines of his palm, because even though you can’t see his hand, the puffiness surrounding each slash on his skin are your cues.

He doesn’t move his hand away, but his tongue falters for a fraction of a second before slowing down.

The kind of love you’re pressing into Logan’s skin with each gentle stroke is unrecognizable to him. It’s not the pitiful love he’s so used to. He thinks it might be the opposite. Admiration. Reverence.

“I’m so empty,” You whisper, bringing your hands to grope Logan’s biceps. They’re sweaty and hard and flexing under your touch, and you wonder if he would let you ride them one day.

When your climax starts to creep up on you, it’s thanks to the image of Logan forcing you to lick your arousal clean off his bicep. Indulgently swirling your tongue along his pronounced veins, savoring the taste of his sweat mixed with yourself. He’d probably say somthing like, fuckin’ filthy. Getting yourself off on my arm. Who does that? Are you that obsessed with me?

Logan feels you squeezing his tongue, harder than all the other times before, so he withdraws at the last moment, ruining your orgasm once again.

You convulse silently, your breath coming out stuttered with your twitching jaw. As if he can read your mind, he unbuckles his belt and removes his pants and boxers. But he doesn’t strip himself of his wifebeater, stained with blood.

It’s the hottest thing in the world.

You blink, and suddenly Logan is hovering above you with his cock over your face. He rubs his leaking tip on your cheeks first, then your lips, and when you open your mouth to take him, he moves his cock away and nudges your jaw shut with his free hand, shaking his head.

“Not yet.”

A whine lodges itself in your throat as Logan spreads his pre-come over the plush of your lips. It escapes only when he lets go of his cock in favor of massaging his wetness across your lips and on your tongue with his thumb. His hard cock is bobbing above you, almost tantalizingly, the occasional drip of arousal landing itself somewhere near your eyes, then your hair, then your mouth, and you watch Logan’s brow furrow as you try to lick whatever you can.

His resolve snaps. A calloused hand squeezes at your cheeks until your jaw falls open. His cock is in your mouth before you can process it, thick and heavy and wet. So. Incredibly. Wet. You start to wonder how it’s even possible that he’s this hard at his age, but you know he wouldn’t want you to be wondering that, so you happily push the thought away.

You suck your cheeks in, swirling your tongue around his tip as you bob your head to meet the subtle, almost imperceivable thrust of his hips. You’re taking it well, you know you are. So you keep taking it, until Logan can no longer successfully suppress his moans and his hips are jerking out of rhythm.

He moves back until his cock slips out of your mouth. “I don’t wanna come like this. Wanna fuck you.”

“Yeah, yes. Fuck me. Please.”

He stands up and turns you on your front, your knees pressing into the soft couch cushions with your ass in the air.

“Logan,” You plead as you feel his tip pressing at your entrance.

“I’ve got you,” He says quietly, pushing in until half of his cock is comfortably squeezed by your cunt. Both your breathing is loud and labored, and there’s a specific kind of intimacy in knowing you’re both feeling this identical need. Overwhelming and hot and unquenchable by anything other than each other.

His first thrust is shallow, but it ruins you all the same. With how thick he is, it should feel like an intrusion, and it does. But all you can think about is how perfectly he fits inside of you, filling you extraordinarily with only a few inches.

“Fuck,” Logan breathes. “Look at that.” He traces around your entrance with his thumb. “Stretching so wide to take me.”

You moan, pressing your cheek against the sofa as you rock with his thrusts. He still hasn’t pressed all the way in yet, and you’re growing impatient. “Come on,” You urge, pushing yourself back to force more of his cock into you.

You expect him to chastise you for being so greedy, but he listens to you instead with a slow, full thrust. His tip nudges your cervix with how deep he is, and a ragged moan escapes you. “Yes,” You whine, “Oh god, yes.”

Logan’s breaths are coming out heavy through his nose, quick and occasionally intertwined with a grunt. His thrusts are getting quicker, and it’s starting to burn, but you welcome every sensation he has to offer you. He pulls out, spits on his cock, then shoves himself back inside, and this time you’re both unabashedly moaning the minute you’re joined again.

His fingers dig in the plush of your ass as he observes himself disappearing into you. It hurts, but you love it. He knows you do, so he spanks you quickly before gripping you and rutting against you again.

“I love when you fuck me,” You whisper, feeling ashamed as soon as the confession leave you. “When you properly fuck me.”

He slows for a moment so he can watch his cock glisten with how wet you are. “I know.” He picks back up his punishing pace.

Your eyes begin to water, from pain or pleasure, you can’t tell. “I love you.”

“I know,” He repeats, this time breathier. His hips stutter. You can tell he’s close.

“I want it on my face,” You tell him quickly, his impending orgasm giving you no time to worry about being too forward.

He pulls out again, letting you turn onto your back as he shifts up your body. He jerks himself furiously, but you swat his hand away and take it upon yourself to stroke him.

“Come for me,” You tell him honestly, softly. His eyes squeeze shut and his lips part around a trembling exhale.

He groans as his release coats your face in long stripes. Some of it even lands in your hair, but you don’t care. Your own fingers work your clit as you stick your tongue out and taste him. Logan bends down to kiss you, chest heaving and hands shaky, and you rub yourself faster as you swap his release between the two of you with a hum. He pulls back to let you swallow, then he kisses your cheeks with his rough beard, uncaring about the mess on your face.

You don’t know you’re coming until it’s over and you’re breathless, and it’s almost excruciating with how much he’s ruined you, but you’re so exhausted you can’t find it in yourself to dwell on it a second longer.

You wrap your arms around his neck and tug him down for another kiss because you can hardly remember the one he just gave you.

“I’m sorry I had been treating you all wrong,” You say carefully.

“It doesn’t matter anymore.” His voice is rough.

You nod, your lips brushing his as you smooth sweaty strands of hair away from his forehead. These touches are hard for him. Any variation of your chaste affection is a reminder that he’s not really Logan anymore.

But the shame in it is gone. Replaced by the reassurance that he can still surround you with safety and firm hands and blatant desire;

And for a moment, he’s his old self again.

A/N: it's been so long since i've written anything, but logan has been consuming my brain for weeks so i had to get this out. i hope it's true to his character. <3 also, my asks are open, so feel free to request anything you want to read about.

#hugh jackman #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #hugh jackman x reader #wolverine smut #deadpool and wolverine #logan howlett #x men #old!logan x reader #old man logan #old man logan x reader

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fairy-angel222 · 1 year ago

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Everybody knows that i’m a good girl, officers

—in which getting caught stealing with your boyfriend leads to three handsome officers fucking you down at the station.

pairing: officers! gojo s, choso k, nanami k. x fem! reader

cw: smut, face fucking, hair pulling, filming, praise, size difference, belly bulge, fingering.. etc

Your heart raced as you and Toji were stopped in your tracks by a cop car. Attempting to turn around only to be stopped by another swerving in front of you. “Shit. T-Toji? What do we do?”

Watching as a tall, broad officer emerged from the vehicle’s front seat, gulping hard when the blond one’s dark eyes met yours. His face stonic as he stood with his hands in his pockets, letting out a small breath when he looked you up and down.

“Toji?” Turning your head to see your boyfriend long gone, having jumped hurriedly over the hood of the car before sprinting away with the stolen money. You whimpered to yourself, backing up when he began to stalk towards you. Yelping as your back hit a broad chest, arms situating themselves around your waist to steady you. “Careful sweetheart.”

Glancing up through your lashes to see a white haired man looking down at you with a smirk, his eyebrow raised in surprise. “Now what’s a pretty little thing like you stealing for?” he hummed.

And you only looked at your feet after noticing a black haired officer speaking into his walkie talkie about a thief on the loose. Giving a detailed description of your boyfriend. The hold on your waist tightened, and you were flipped around to look up at.. a black blindfold? An idea running through your head to knee him and make a run for it.

“Don’t even think about it. I can still see you.” watching as your eyes welled with tears, your hands gripping at the hem if your shirt. “P-please don’t arrest me. I promise i’ll never do it again.” you pleaded innocently.

The man scoffed, his hand reaching up for your face, his slender fingers digging into your cheeks, “Then tell me, what’re you doing stealing huh?”

“Gojo that’s enough.” A deep voice demanded. Gojo letting go of you with the roll of his eyes. Your body immediately putting some distance between the two of you. Only to be met with the sight of the same blond officer finally making his move. His face void of emotion as his muscles bulged through his shirt. The veins on his hand extra visible when he gripped something on his belt.

Your eyes widened when he pulled out a pair of handcuffs, tilting his head down at you with his tone serious. “You can either cooperate, or i arrest you and bring you down to the station. Your pick.”

The third officer walked up to your shivering form before you could speak. Your body being sandwiched between the two towering men.

“Nanami sir, the male that was with her has been arrested. Although he was able to knock down three of our m-“ He stuttered when he caught sight of you, your glassy eyes practically begging him to tell his friends to let you go. “Uhm- our men sir.” He finished with the clear of his throat.

“Thanks Kamo.” Nanami nodded, looking back to you with a hard stare. “Look, kid. I don’t have all day. We already have your little boyfriend and we can easily take you.”

“Not a kid..” you mumbled. Rough hands making their way to your chin, “You’re really taking us for fools aren’t ya? Take her down to the station.” Nanami commanded, throwing the handcuffs to Choso before he was walking away, getting into the vehicle and driving off.

“Should have just been a good girl and answered me.” Gojo laughed, pushing you over to Choso who did as he was taught, pressing you onto the side of the police vehicle before cuffing your first wrist. Your body twisting and turning making him groan, feeling his dick growing hard in his pants.

“W-wait! I’m sorry! I promise i’m a good girl— not a bad guy. Just please don’t arrest me.” you begged, hearing the click of the cuffs on your second wrist before you were being pushed into the back seat. Gojo looking at you through the rearview mirror. “It’s a bit too late for that don’t you think?” Allowing Choso to sit in the vehicle before speeding off. Some officer.

The whole ride was filled with your tiny sniffles as you asked to be let go in all different ways. Each one being met by a stern no which had you letting out a whine.

“You do a whole lotta talking for my liking.” Gojo sighed, “Makes me wanna fill your mouth with my cock to shut you up.” Smirking when that made you stop with panicked eyes.

When you arrived at the station. You were pulled through a hallway and past a room where you saw Toji. Anger on his face as he attempted to get up, scowling at the snickering officer when he was stopped by two pairs of handcuffs.

You were brought into another room, seeing Nanami already sitting there going through your file, his head turning to you, Gojo and Choso when he heard the slam of the door. “She’s still quiet i see.”

“She actually started talking, told her i’d make her suck my dick if she didn’t stop.” Gojo grinned, Nanami shaking his head as you were brought to sit in front of him. Gojo at your side and Choso leaned against the door.

“So.” The man started, clasping his hands on the desk with a sigh. “I see this isn’t your first time being arrested. Mind telling me why?”

You looked down at the glass top with a shrug, “i don’t know.”

Nanami motioned to Choso and Gojo with a nod. Choso closing the blinds of the stretch of glass connecting the room to the hallway. While Gojo pulled you up effortlessly, taking your place on the chair with you in his lap.

“Let’s try this again, mind telling me why?” You chewed at your lip, ignoring Gojo’s hot breath on your neck. “I did drugs, i drove while drunk when i was 15, i’ve shoplifted many times.” You listed shyly, watching as Nanami nodded along to your words.

“Nnh- ahh” you mewled when two fingers squeezed at your clit through your skirt, your thighs clenching as you shifted on the man’s lap. “God, I could do this all day.” Gojo whispered.

Nanami closed your file and slid it to the side, standing up and making his way in front of you. Stroking his thumb on your lip, “You’re really making things worse for yourself. Want to know what these records show?” He started, your eyes fixated on his body as he unbuttoned the top buttons on his shirt.

“They show that you’ve never done anything wrong.” His thumb slipping past your lips, “Show that you’re just a naive soul who covered for her friends and boyfriend on multiple occasions.” Looking up at his eyes through your lashes. “Show that you’re a good girl who trusts too easily.” He finished, watching you whimper underneath Gojo’s touch on your clit as you sucked lightly at his thumb. Your eyes closing with a hum.

“Do you think you’re a good girl baby?”

You nodded, “A very good girl, officer.” you muffled out past his finger, the eye contact never breaking until Gojo spoke. “I think she deserves an apology, doesn’t she?”

Nanami hummed a small yes, removing his finger from your lips and replacing it with his mouth instead. Kissing you softly as his hand reached up to wrap around your neck. Keeping your head steady as you moaned into him, tongues lewdy curling around each other.

Gojo grinned widely. “The fun’s finally getting started.” His eyes falling on Choso who stood red faced in the corner, his dick noticeably hard in his pants as Gojo ushered him over. “Kamo come here.”

Your mind felt fuzzy, wetness pooling between your legs as the large hand around your neck tightened at the sides. Letting out another moan when Gojo’s hand slipped under your skirt, running his fingers along your puffy folds through your panties.

“She’s soaked already.” he announced, chuckling when you mewled at the announcement, your face beginning to heat up.

“And don’t worry that pretty little head about that boyfriend of yours. You’re not the only one he’s been-“

“Gojo..” Nanami warned, his lips still moving against yours. Your heart tightened, eyes threatening to well up with tears as your suspicions were confirmed. Choso’s hand stroked your hair, “Don’t worry about that kay? Just focus on us.”

Gojo’s fingers began rubbing small circles on your clit, tearing your panties off of you when it began getting in his way. Nanami pulled away from your lips with a small smirk, sinking down to his knees in front of you.

Placing your legs onto his shoulders before bringing his face to your dripping cunt. “Make as much noise as you’s like. No one can hear us.”

His tongue darted out to lick a long stripe up your slit. A soft moan escaped your lips when he licked another. “Tastes like fucking heaven.” Gradually increasing his pace until he was lapping at your juices, his skilled tongue feasting on your wetness while Gojo kept up his pace in your swollen clit.

Your head fell back with a mewl, bringing your hands to the blond’s hair but stopped by the metal around your skin. You whimpered, “C-cuffs.”

Gojo groaned into your neck, grinding his clothed cock up into your ass. “Nah, like you better with them on.”

You moaned, back arching against Gojo when Nanami inserted two of his thick fingers into you. Curling them in and out directly onto your spot, your mouth hanging open in a string of cries when he began fucking them into your tightness.

Your noises were cut short by an angry red tip tapping your lips, Choso lightly taking hold of your head to help you sit up. His cock nestled between your parted lips waiting for you to take him in.

“Atta boy.” Gojo mused, watching as Choso pushed his cock further past your lips, a soft gag leaving your throat as he allowed you to adjust to his length. Only half of his cock being able to fit in your snug mouth. Choso moaned, your tongue swirling around his pre cum tip as you suckled on the mushroom head. Beginning to bob your head up and down without the use of your hands to keep you steady, your tongue licking along his vein each time you came back up.

A mewl sounded at the back of your tongue, the noise sending vibrations through Choso’s cock.

Your back arched as a coil built up in your stomach, your trembling legs being held apart by strong hands as your toes curled. Your hips jerking back and forth on Gojo’s lap as the pads of Nanami’s fingers pressed into your g spot. Him holding them in position by simply moving his fingertips on and off.

You cried out loudly around the cock in your mouth, drool running past your swollen lips and down your chin, Gojo leaning to lick it off your skin. “Nnhmf—“ you muffled, your eyes closing as you neared the edge. “ ‘mf closhe.”

The three men watched as your breathing sped up, unable to focus when Choso grabbed hold of your hair and manually fucked his cock down your throat. Careful enough to not hurt you.

You whimpered once more with a choked cry, your body spasming uncontrollably as you squirted onto the blond’s chin. Him groaning into you as he lapped it all up, locking his grip on your thighs when you tried to close your legs around his head.

“Oh hoho, look at her.” Gojo teased, “Can’t stop squirming, think we’re overstiming her. Are we, sweet thing?”

You nodded tearfully, Gojo kissing and biting at your neck while you sucked Choso off. His eyes met Nanami’s, both the men releasing you at the same time making you let out a shaky breath.

“We’re not done with you yet.”

Choso moaned as he neared his release, his abs tensing under his shirt and his cock twitching on your tongue. His head falling back with a loud groan before he was pulling out, fisting his cock roughly then cumming all over your pretty face. The sticky substance falling onto your now exposed chest thanks to Gojo.

Choso’s body quivered lightly as he finished spilling, his face quickly turning red again when he straightened his head to find both his colleagues smirking at him.

Gojo grinned, “Great, my turn.” standing up with you against him, kicking back the chair before bending you over, ready to line his aching cock up with your sopping pussy.

You whimpered when he roughly spread your legs with his knee, your hands still cuffed securely behind your back as your face met cold glass.

Gojo cursed as he eased himself into you. “So fucking tight, shit.” he groaned, fucking sloppily into your pussy with no mercy. His painfully hard cock begging for a release ever since he sat you on his lap.

Gojo’s hand reached up in your hair, pulling you up against him as he slammed into you. Your back arching against his chest with a loud mewl. Gojo watched as your ass bounced with each hit of his hips, your head thrown back onto his chest as you filled the room with high pitched moans.

Your pussy clenched when he brought his hand to your tits, fumbling and groping at the soft flesh before twisting your nipples between your fingers. Pulling out a cry from you at the sensation. Gojo’s pace never slowed its abuse to your tightness. Bullying his cock deeper inside you with a string of grunts.

The sound of skin on skin filled the room, your loud cries mixed with Gojo’s grunts as he tugged at both your nipples and your hair. You could feel his tip grazing into your walls with each of his harsh thrusts onto your ass.

Your breaths getting heavy as you neared yet another orgasm. “Nn—nnhg, f-fuckk.”

“Language.”

You trembled with a scream of pleasure, clenching down on the white haired man’s cock as he breathed into your neck with deep throaty moans.

You let out whimper after whimper, your legs feeling like jelly as your knees buckled. “Hahhh— nng, close. Ah- ‘m close.” feeling the pressure on your gummy spot intensifying greatly. “A-ahh— nnh, cumming,” you mewled, lips parted in whiny noises as you came.

Gojo groaned, “Shit- clenching down so hard on me. Gonna break my fucking cock sweetheart.” his thrusts lacking any rhythm as he too neared his orgasm. “Come on, fuck, give it to me.” he rasped.

Your eyes rolling back as you gripped onto his shirt through your handcuffs. Your short moans matching his thrusts as your pussy gushed messily around him.

“That’s it.” he dragged out, slowing his thrusts until he was pulling out of your drenched cunt. Pushing you down onto your knees by your shoulders, “open.” Stroking his cock lightly when you obeyed and spilling onto your awaiting tongue while watching you swallow. “Good girl.” as he steadied his breathing. “She’s all yours,” he said to Nanami.

Your eyes moving behind the tall man to find Nanami sat on a chair with his cock in hand stroking to the sight. And Choso leaned onto the gray walls with his shirt in between his teeth as he did the same as Nanami.

“Come here.” Nanami husked. And you stood on shaky legs to waddle over to him. Your eyes widening at his massive cock, its girth the size of your wrist and its length the same as your forearm. Noticing your hesitation, Nanami chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.”

His hands found their way onto your hips as he guided you over his lap. A scared whimper falling past your lips when he lined you up with his rock hardness.

“Look at me. You can take it okay? Just be a good girl and relax.”

You sucked in a deep breath and nodded, wincing loudly as he sunk you down onto his cock. Your pussy aching at the stretch to let him in. “Ahh-“ you cried, small tears escaping your eyes as he bottomed you down onto him. Feeling his tip poking against the skin of your stomach.

“Holy shit.” Gojo whistled, “She’s fucking bulging.”

You mewled, looking down to see the outline of Nanami’s tip in your belly. The large man simply glaring at his colleague who only smirked.

Large hands held onto your ass, whispering soothing praises into your ear as he helped you grind up and down with the rocking of your hips. You began moaning as the pain slowly subsided. Pleasure filling your veins as Nanami made you ride him faster bit by bit. Feeling the veins of his cock grazing your sensitive walls with each movement.

You let out a string of loud cries, your hips arching when Nanami landed a slap to your skin. “You’re a real good girl, you know that? Obeying the men of the law. You’re a perfect one.” He groaned.

Gojo sat on the table behind you, his camera zoomed into the stretch of your pussy from the back. Nanami unknowingly spreading your cheeks to give off an even better view.

Choso’s cock prodded at your lips, his precum smearing onto your lips.

“Kamo. Don’t wanna save that for her pussy?” Gojo questioned, Choso shaking his head no with a desperate moan. “Uh uh, love her mouth too much.” Your lips parting to suck him into your throat with a hum.

Choso groaned, thrusting lightly into your mouth, his length throbbing when your tongue suckled at his tip. Nanami quickened your pace of rutting on his cock. Your noises drowned out by the youngest officer’s cock.

Your pussy clenched impossibly tighter. Creamy white covering his cock from top to bottom. Your pussy creaming his length with your clit being stimulated by its rubbing on the region near his base.

Gojo made sure to capture it all. Choso fucking into your throat and you milking Nanami’s cock. With mic picking up Choso’s moans and Nanami’s deep grunts.

Your body trembled, body filled with heat as you came undone. Whimpers bubbling in your throat and your eyes rolling back. The sound of your cuffs shaking entering your ears when your fists gripped literal air.

“Come on.” Nanami groaned, “Cum for us.”

You let out a silent breathy cry, your pussy spraying its cream filled liquid onto the man’s thighs and pants.

Choso followed not too long after you, finding it in him to force you to take all of him into your mouth with a gag before pumping his cum straight down your throat. Some of his cum spilling messily at the sides of your lips when he removed himself from the warmth.

Nanami rolled you onto him a few more times, his cock twitching within the depths of your cunt before effortlessly lifting you off of him and settling you closer to his knees. Giving his large cock a wrist circling stroke before his cock was releasing spurts of cum into the air and onto your tits and stomach with a dragged out groan.

The three of you panted, Gojo setting down his phone after saving the video to his eyes only then walking over to you with a key to remove your handcuffs. You fell forward as your body went limp, your palms feeling Nanami’s hard chest under his work shirt as you stabilized yourself.

The white haired man pressed a short kiss to your head. “Did so well.”

After helping you get cleaned up, the trio walked you out of the room. A slight limp in your step as you were brought into the main room. There you spotted Toji, who practically charged towards you. Slapping Choso’s hand off your waist and pulling you into his side. “Don’t touch my girl.”

Choso only walked away before giving you a look. And you sucked in a deep breath before you spoke, “Toji-“

“Before you say what you have to say baby, they charged us for robbery.” Kissing you softly on the same spot Gojo did. “Got any money to get us out of this.”

Just as you were about to speak, a voice echoed through the room. “Y/n L/n? You’re free to go.”

You gave Toji a tight lipped smile while scratching at your arm. “Sorry Toji.. i don’t have any. And since i didn’t do anything wrong i don’t see why i should be kept either.”

Toji looked at you in disbelief. A smirk eventually gracing his face. “Didn’t think you had that in ya.” Watching as you were escorted out by a blond officer who didn’t even spare him a glance.

He would have to use his one call on one of his recent flings to pay the fine.

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not-neverland06 · 6 months ago

Text

you're not her

The 'Worst' Logan x fem!mutant!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Eat me-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ominous, but whatever. “Sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah, look, my favorite fuck buddies.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t. Hold. Back.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wade

Did you fuckers have sex???

In my bed!!!!

And you didn’t invite me?!

….

Wade

Tell Logan I want his claws in me next

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

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

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

General Taglist: @evasmlp

Logan Taglist: @nonamevenus ♡

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

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evilgwrl · 6 months ago

Text

ExHusband!Simon x Reader

You Want a Divorce? (One)

Note: I'm having the WORST writer's block now so pls excuse my lack of proper writing... I'm currently sitting in front of a beach writing in hopes that ill gain inspo

CW: Angst, mentions of sex, jealous/possessive Simon, PLS DONT LEAVE YOUR KIDS IN THE CAR !!! Or break into someone’s house

Inspired by: Ex!Husband Simon

PART TWO

Simon stared at you. The shades of his eyes simmering into endless voids of obsidian, blonde lashes moulded against his greased lids, the residue of the perpetual torture his body had succumbed to during deployment.

“You want a divorce?” He spoke, voice deep as he flickered between your shaking heads, sweat soiling into the papers gripped firmly and your swollen face, cheeks feverish with a red hue, eyes even more so.

You held back a rough sob, throat stripped of all moisture evident in your hoarse voice as you spoke, “Yes, Simon. I think it would be best for our family… for us.”

He scoffed. “You think the best thing for our family is to separate?”

“We already pretty much are. You’re away for days, weeks, months at a time. We’re hardly a family and it’s difficult to explain to the children why I’m crying.”

“Ok then.”

That was it. You would admit, it stung. His lacklustre tone felt like a stab in the gut, the blade drenched with anthrax as it reared blistering sores internally, the effects having shown through your putrid complexion. Your skin was dull, practically lifeless, the only living form of you grew day by day through the darkening of eyebags that almost made you look apocalyptic.

It had been 12 months of separation, officially 8 being legally divorced. You kept his last name, the permanent burn of hearing Mrs Riley still searing through you with every syllable, yet you feel it would only hurt you more if they said Ms.

Simon was often away now, and the minimal family time he used to get felt pointless as the shabby apartment he moved into after the sudden interference of your mind-boggling news barely fit the two kids you shared. His body felt more relentless on him, the taunting of his mind fulgurated the inoperative reality that he would come home to you, to his family.

His voice, almost like it dropped an octave had grown richer in aggression, tormenting those he deemed suitable, both with his tongue and with his bruised knuckles, an oil painting of blue and purple hues radiating across the pale flesh as he shrugged it off to his team as “pushing himself and others to do better”.

Couldn’t you realise your mistake? Wouldn’t you prefer crying in his arms about his absence than never having it fulfilled again?

As he looked around the bleak environment, tan stained walls revolting the creaking mattress he had brought someone home to, someone who wasn’t you. It made him feel sick like a viral infection had slunk its way into his bloodstream as he laid next to a woman that failed to make his cock throb, endless images of you sprawled out under him flickering. No wonder he called out your name instead.

You felt the familiar shake of your hands every time your phone dinged; Simon’s dreary tone was evident through his dry “On the way” text. You ushered a day of your children’s life into their cartoon-themed backpacks, innocent smiles adorning their skin, doe-like eyes of brown, far too familiar to Simon’s staring up at you.

The sound of his car scraping into your paved driveway almost made you feel like throwing up, the nerves of seeing him combined with the already present pit of anxiety due to your date later turning you into one big shaky mess as you brushed it off as “too much caffeine”.

The echo of his car door slamming shut rung through your ears, staining you with the reiteration that your ex-husband was now at your door, heavy fists knocking upon the wood. The image you saw of him in your mind morphed back to reality as you stared at him, a blank expression on your face.

“Hi, love.”

“Hi, Simon.”

Your frown was clear, the pet name you were so used to becoming a distant memory in the past few months. It was a hole you were attempting to fill, to clear yourself away from his teasing tongue and faux impression of a healthy relationship. You were divorced for a reason, you knew that, but as you gazed upon the lack of life in his skin, it was almost like he was holding a mirror up to you.

“Daddy!” You watched as your 5-year-old, Ella, practically leapt into his hefty frame, his hands coiling around her like second nature. You could feel his warmth, the heat that would build in your stomach when you felt those same digits touch you.

“Hi sweetheart,” his voice gruff, yet tone lighter as he placed a delicate kiss on the skin of her forehead, “You miss me?”

She nodded, her face buried in the hem of his neck as your other child cooed from the bouncy chair, tubby legs attempting to wheel himself to the door.

“There’s my boy,” Simon practically cooed as he placed Ella down, bounding inside as he lifted the toddler out, grabby arms reaching out to pull at Simon’s locks, gentle tugs causing you to laugh.

Your voice cut through the scene like glass. Why would you want to destroy such a happy moment? Weren’t you supposed to be reuniting? Just say it, tell Simon you want him to come home, that you need him.

“This is Ella’s bag,” you speak, holding up the pink Minnie Mouse bag, “And this is Toby’s.” Your son giggled as he muffled out the words, “Transformers”.

Simon nodded, “Are you doing anything tonight?”

Ella practically screeched, “Mummy’s going on a date!” The thrill of her laughter that followed only seemed to make the situation more awkward.

“A date?” Simon’s voice was deadly, the hair raising on your arms as you shook your head, a tight smile on your suddenly dry lips.

“No, no, nothing like that. Just catching up with an old colleague of mine.”

“But he’s a boy, Mummy,” Ella giggled. Who was raising your daughter to be such a big mouth? Your face formed an annoyed look, eyebrows raising as a line of wrinkles crinkled against your forehead, your pointer fingers massaging your temples.

“An old colleague?” Simon practically gasped. Had he met him at your old work Xmas parties?

“Let’s get you guys in the car.” You fumbled with Toby’s car seat as you strapped him in, your nimble fingers shaking with anxiety before you shut the door, pressing a kiss against the window before wiping away the minimal residue of dirt. Gross.

“Who is he?” His tone was acerbic like he was looking for an argument. How dare you try and replace him? He was your husband, the father of your two kids? Have you seen this random man before? Had he fucked you?

“God, Simon-“

“Who is he?” Simon was relentless, bullying his way into getting the answers as his arms folded across his chest, tattoos practically screaming at you too.

“His name’s Andrew. I ran into him at a coffee shop a few weeks back and he just wanted to catch up. That’s it.”

A loud scoff sounded in the air. “You mean that geezer from that corporate job you hated? The one who didn’t know it was weird to blatantly stare down your dress when you were standing next to your fucking husband?”

“He didn’t stare down my dress! You’re not my husband anymore, Simon. I can see who I want.”

“I don’t want our children to grow up thinking they have multiple dads.”

You’ll admit, that stung.

“Multiple dads? You’re out of your mind. The only reason they would ever believe they have multiple dads is if their real one stopped showing up. And where have you been, Simon? When have you shown up?”

Simon held his tongue, the warmth of the metallic taste gashing through his teeth as he practically snarled past you. “I’ll bring them back tomorrow.”

The dress you wore was practically suffocating you as you tucked your stomach in. Simon never minded the change in your figure after motherhood, he found himself liking it even more. He loved knowing that his seed put you through that, that he made you swell with his children, and he brought out the glow in your cheeks and the delicate stretch marks that laced your hips.

Andrew was nice. His tone was comforting as he walked to your door, ushering you to his car as he insisted you could order whatever you wanted. He was handsome, the salt and pepper hues of his hair settling your insecurity.

“We’ll take the Pinot Noir,” he spoke, looking at you with an almost arrogant sheer in his blue eyes. You only liked white. Simon knew that just like he knew everything about y-

You’re not with Simon anymore. You had to realise that. Maybe that’s why you brought Andrew home, let him shove his cock (that was a lot smaller than what you were used to) inside your heat, as you let out moans you had mimicked from the porn you watched with the actor that resembled far too much of your ex-husband.

Simon's fingers gripped the steering wheel early the next morning, your two children snuggled up in the backseat as he drove back to his old house, your old home. He wasn’t a man who gave up easy, he would show you, prove to you that you made a mistake. You needed each other.

Hold on. You don’t drive a red car?

His car lurched into the entrance of your home, nearly ramming into the garage as he shoved it in park, rolling down the two back windows slightly for air as he dug around in the small side compartment of his car.

The familiar gold key he had stolen from you the night he packed up all his stuff stared back at him, practically egging him on. Go on Simon, march in there. So he did. His hand rattled against the door knob, glancing back to peak into the car for a second before he slammed the door shut.

Your body froze. Were you being robbed? No. It was only Simon. A very angry-looking Simon. You stood, the white sheet barely shielding your naked body as he took in the sight of the man next to you, his hands wrapping around his shoulders as he practically ripped him out of bed, flinging him onto the floor as he grunted, eyes reared with hatred.

“Simon, what the fuck are you doing? WHERE ARE THE KIDS?”

Andrew groaned, on the floor, covering his groin as Simon chucked the masculine clothes at his head, the thin boxers soiled across the man’s scalp as he trembled.

“Our kids are asleep in the car, waiting for their Mummy to come to the zoo with them.” Simon’s words were despicable, laced with an acrimonious tone, small particles of spit seething through his lips as stared at you.

He turned to the man, a giant frame staggering over the top of him. “Get the fuck out, and if you wake up our kids when you go past, I will personally put a bullet straight in the middle of your skull,” he said, pushing a thick digit against his forehead as Andrew rushed out, clothes barely on before you felt the front door shut, a cry of apologises leaving your lips as you tried to assist him but Simon only held you back, a tight grip coiling around your arm.

“What the fuck was that? How’d you get in?” You couldn’t even place the words to say, humiliation roaring through you as you snuggled the sheet closer to you, away from his peering eyes.

“It’s time to be a family again, don’t you think love?”

#evilgwrl #141 x reader #call of duty x reader #ghost #ghost smut #simon riley #simon riley smut #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost cod

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notchainedtotrauma · 4 months ago

Video

That Black woman was out there in literal tears, just for...Okay...Okay...But "respect the law"...Okay...Okay..."but between the doctor and their patient" Okay...Okay...

Rep. Pamela Stevenson refuting the argument that Christianity supports transphobic bills.

#stories from the void #this is what so many mean when they demand some kind of integrity #some kind of accountability #people that are overfocused solely on voting #might not realize how much she is betraying HER OWN PARTY #because the Democrats at this point #aren't a monolith #and the time to be urgent is during the local elections #as shown here #because the presidential candidates will throw their *own* to the hounds and never look back

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kashverse · 18 days ago

Text

it is a rite of passage for every child to have a pet, and when it is finally babykuna’s turn, sukuna—being the extra man that he is—does not just take her to a normal pet shop. no, no, no. he takes her to an exotic pet shop. because why settle for a goldfish when she could have a tarantula named missy? or maybe a snake called george? wouldn’t a scorpion be so much cooler? apparently not. because out of all the fascinating, unique, and terrifying creatures in the shop, babykuna walks past them all—ignores the lizards, dismisses the sugar gliders, doesn’t even look at the parrot that screeches a greeting at her—

and stops dead in front of a massive maine coon that is currently squished into a cage far too small for its body. the cat—fluffy, fat, and looking seconds away from sighing like a disappointed victorian orphan—locks eyes with babykuna. babykuna gasps, pressing her tiny hands against the cage. "mama! papa! it’s him!"

sukuna furrows his brows. "what?"

"him! my pet! my baby! my everything!"

you squint at the cat. it looks back at you like it’s seen some shit. "baby, are you sure?" you ask gently, glancing at the other animals. "there are so many cool options, what about—"

"NO!"

babykuna throws herself onto the ground, wailing like she’s in a period drama. sukuna jumps in alarm. "oi, oi, what the fuck, don’t start—"

before he can finish, the cat in the cage suddenly lets out a long, tragic, soul-crushing howl—as if mourning a life it never got to live.

the entire store falls silent.

"…what the fuck was that," sukuna hisses, visibly unsettled. babykuna gasps again, sitting up. "mr pickles! papa said a bad word!"

"mr…pickles?" sukuna repeats, looking at the cat like it personally offended him. "why is its name mr pickles?"

"because he is my son," babykuna says matter-of-factly, wiping away her fake tears. “and my heart knows his true name.” you press your lips together to keep from laughing. "mr pickles is a cute name, love."

"no, it’s not," sukuna grumbles, rubbing his temples. "baby, listen, papa will get you anything else, okay? you want a wolfdog? a komodo dragon? a fucking capybara?"

babykuna sobs.

"I WANT MR PICKLESSSSSSSSSS—!"

mr pickles, from inside his cage, lets out a sorrowful “AAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOOHHH—”

and that is how the fourth member of the family—a fat, depressed maine coon named mr pickles—came to be. turns out, despite his tragic victorian orphan appearance, mr pickles is actually a sweetheart. not only does he fulfill his feline duties—lounging around, occasionally chasing invisible ghosts, and knocking over things just for fun—he also doubles as babykuna’s personal weighted blanket. and let’s be honest, nothing has ever knocked babykuna out quite like mr pickles’ fluffy, oversized body.

she sleeps like a brick, snoring so loudly that you once thought a grown man had somehow broken into the house and passed out in her room. but there she was—wrapped around mr pickles like a koala, drool dripping onto his fur, dead to the world. and mr pickles? he doesn’t complain even once. in fact, he doesn’t even move. just lies there, accepting his fate, staring blankly into the void while babykuna uses him as her personal mattress. what a versatile king. in fact, mr pickles has so many roles in this household.

a cat? yes.

a weighted blanket? absolutely.

a luxury aesthetic background for your new nail set photos? oh, you better believe it.

you take a picture of your freshly done nails—perfectly manicured, sitting against the soft, plush fur of mr pickles, the perfect neutral background. you send it to sukuna. he normally loves seeing your nails, but this time—his eyebrow twitches as he recognizes the background.

sukuna: are you using that fucking cat as a backdrop again you: mr pickles is an aesthetic marvel. sukuna: i will throw that thing in the washing machine

you report him to babykuna, who screeches in betrayal and slaps his arm like she’s defending her child from a monster. but let’s be real—the best thing about mr pickles? his impeccable manners.

the moment he finishes eating from his bowl, he delicately pushes it towards the sink—like some kind of distinguished gentleman disposing of his fine china. it is so polite that you almost want to give him a little bowtie. sukuna watches this with a blank face. “i feel like i should be impressed, but i also feel like i’m being manipulated.” and maybe, just maybe, he would grow to respect this cat.

except.

mr pickles is a hater. specifically, a sukuna hater. because whenever it comes to sukuna’s belongings? suddenly, mr pickles is the menace of the household.

one night, sukuna walks into the laundry room to grab his freshly washed, neatly pressed shirts, only to find mr pickles sprawled on top of them, looking at him with such deep, sorrowful eyes that sukuna physically cannot yell at him. he stares. mr pickles blinks slowly.

"…get the fuck off."

mr pickles closes his eyes and pretends to sleep.

"GET OFF."

the very next day, sukuna screams when he finds all of his socks shredded into oblivion—like someone went berserk with a pair of scissors. babykuna gasps, pointing at mr pickles. “papa! it was mr pickles!”

sukuna whirls to glare at the culprit. "you little shit—!"

mr pickles blinks at him, looking once again like a victorian boy with consumption.

sukuna’s rage stutters.

"…you think you’re funny, huh?"

mr pickles does not reply.

(but he does later eat an entire stack of sukuna’s important business papers™ and then vomits them out on the living room carpet.)

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selfcarecap · 6 months ago

Text

Insatiable [L.H.]

Pairing: Logan Howlett x female!reader

Summary: Down in the void, where you can find all sorts of dangerous things, you didn’t expect a flower that makes you horny to be your biggest problem. Luckily, Logan is there to fuck that overwhelming feeling out of you.

Warnings: smut 18+, unprotected piv sex, oral (f receiving), spitting and hair pulling (reader pulls Logan’s hair) but just for a split second </3, dub con because of sex pollen but they want each other either way, Logan calls reader baby and good girl during sex, mention of masturbation (f), Wade watches them fuck technically without consent but it’s not mentioned until the end and it’s more of a joke, set during Deadpool & Wolverine but no major spoilers I just used a different gif because Logan is annoyed at Wade in every single one from that film lmao, Wade being Wade, Logan is taller than the reader, age gap implied (well actually it’s not implied but I’m telling you Logan’s older lmao), all porn no plot

Word Count: 3.4k

first Logan fic 🤭 pls be nice <333

˚✮*✧*˚☆˚*✧

It shouldn’t shock you that the void is full of weird things — you came here with a mutant and a … well, whatever the fuck Wade is, after all. Yet, you’re still surprised when, on your way back from finding some bushes to pee in, you end up tripping over something and getting addicted to the smell of some glowing plant.

The flower is bright pink and smells like your favourite perfume. You’re on all fours at this point, your face buried in the bud as you inhale its sweet, sweet scent.

“What is she doing?” Logan asks from afar, an eyebrow raised in confusion.

“Yoga?” Wade offers. Logan throws him a look — not helpful.

Logan makes his way to you; the closer he gets the brighter the plant glows. This can’t be good. He calls your name when he gets to you but you’re in a trance, you don’t even seem to hear Logan. You’re humming — no, moaning?— to yourself, arching your back and lowering yourself to your forearms.

He pulls you up by your arm and almost flinches at your sudden outburst. “Let me go!” You shout, hitting his chest, and when you look up at him your pupils are so large Logan isn’t sure it’s really still you in there.

You go to slap Logan so you can get back down but his hand slides down your arm to hold your wrist, his other hand at your waist to keep you in place.

“Look at me,” Logan orders and, oh you’re looking at him.

The smell the plant was giving off wasn’t your favourite perfume at all, you realise, it was the smell of Logan. A hint of his aftershave, a little bit of sweat, and all that manly musk. You realise you need him right now.

You involuntarily arch your back to get closer to him, your chest against the hard of his suit. He’s looking down at you, a mixture of worry and confusion. You reach up to claw at Logan’s collar but he easily holds you off.

“You okay, bub? What was that?” He looks down to kick at the plant and as it breaks off at the stem the plant gives off a last shake of glittery dust, grows grey, and then dies. You slowly turn your head from the floor to Logan’s face — he’s wearily awaiting your next move.

“I’m not okay, Logan. I need you right now,” you pull at his collar once more but he has you in a tight grip at the waist — which does nothing but turn you on more.

“Wade! Come here,” Logan calls, and you see a flicker of red in your periphery coming towards you, but you don’t take your eyes off the man in front of you.

When you stand still for a few seconds, that’s when the ache really hits you. You clench around nothing and you’re suddenly aware of how wet you are. You’ve never needed to come so badly in your life, but Logan’s got you held firmly in place, no matter how much you squirm.

Wade sees the plant immediately, even greyed out and dead, “What’s this?” He walks towards it.

Logan grabs Wade’s arm. “Don’t,” he grits.

With only one of his arms on you, you take the chance to reach up at Logan’s face, try to kiss him, but his hand is back on you before you can even get on your tiptoes. You let out a pained moan and both their heads snap towards you.

“She was smelling that flower. Now she’s..” Logan looks down at you, which intensifies your need, but he’s careful of what to say. You only met a few days ago and he doesn’t want to humiliate you, doesn’t know how deep down the real you is by now.

“Horny?” Wade asks, looking at you, “Holy shit, girl, look at your eyes. See, a woman after my own heart. That’s exactly how I look at Logan too—“

“Wade!” Logan shouts, jaw clenching, “We need to get her somewhere safe.”

“Don’t need anywhere safe. Need you,” you mumble, attempting to free yourself from Logan’s grip. He’s so effortlessly strong it makes your mouth water and the place between your thighs even wetter.

Wade bends down, careful not to get too close to the plant, assessing it. “Easy. It’s sex pollen.”

“What the fuck is that?” Logan half-shouts.

“Have you never read fanfiction? It makes you crazy horny until you’re fucked by the person you’re into the most,” Wade explains, then sighs, looking at you, “Sad that it’s not me, sugarcakes, I’ll be honest.”

You ignore him, still attempting to get out of Logan’s grasp to climb him like a tree.

Logan groans at Wade, “Do you ever shut the fuck up?”

“No, have you met me?”

Suddenly you’re lifted off the ground and Logan slings you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing at all. His arm grips you just below your ass, and it makes you clench your thighs together, trying to get any type of friction. You attempt to get down but his arm only tightens around your legs and even though your entire upper body is free, hanging off the back of him, you’re helpless.

You squirm and wriggle and moan but all to no avail. Logan’s ignoring you. You feel your underwear getting wetter with his every step and breath and movement, and you’re sure he must be able to smell you at this point.

Your arousal has turned into nothing other than a pulsing pain and you feel tears springing to your eyes with your sexual frustration. You mumble Logan’s name but you’re too weak to really say anything, too weak to even try and get out of his grasp anymore.

A shadow is cast over you and you see the sand under you turn into a solid floor. Suddenly you’re being lifted back up and Logan sits you on top of a table. You’re in a… diner? You don’t really care, filled with a new energy as you see Logan towering over you, concern written on his face – concern you’re ready to turn into lust.

You sit up with force, ready to pounce on him, but he pins you back to the tabletop immediately, his big arms holding your wrists down.

“Don’t wanna do that, sweetheart,” – the nickname makes you moan right in his face, hips trying to arch up but he’s too far – “We’re gonna need you to calm down, okay? And we’re gonna wait it out.”

“No,” you begin to shake your head quickly, giving Logan your best puppy eyes, “I can’t wait. Need to cum. I’m so wet, Logan. Please.”

“As much as I wish it wasn’t, that’s my cue to leave,” Wade waves, whispering, “I hope you think of me when you come” (you’re not sure if he’s saying it to you or to Logan) and walks out the door.

Logan is distracted for a second, watching Wade leave, and you yank your hand out of his grasp to unzip the front of your suit and push a hand into your underwear. You cry out when you finally get to touch your clit, puffy and wet all over, and for a second Logan can’t keep his eyes off your panties. His gaze lands on your tits almost spilling out of your bra from all the movement and then he takes hold of your wrist once again.

“I’m gonna leave and then you can touch yourself all you want, hm? That sound like a plan?” Logan says, voice quiet and hoarse and all you can do is shake your head at him.

“‘S not gonna be enough. Need you. Please,” you moan again, and you see him clench his jaw in restraint.

“I can’t, you know I can’t. Don’t know if you’d want this otherwise. Wouldn’t be right of me.”

You somehow manage to yank his hand down with yours and shove it into your panties.

“Does this feel like I don’t want you, Logan? You’re all I want. Been making myself come every day since I met you wishing it was you instead.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying, baby, don’t know what you’re asking for,” Logan’s voice is strained. His thumb starts rubbing your clit instinctively, as if he can’t control himself. He moves slightly to get a better angle and you see the bulge pressing against his pants. He’s so big you moan out his name loud enough to echo through the building.

“Know exactly what I’m asking for. Please, Logan. It’s not gonna stop until you make me come. I’m begging you.” He looks at you with uncertainty. Then he’s pulling your arms out of your suit and ripping the rest down your legs.

“I’m gonna make you come, okay? I’ll eat your pussy as many times as you need me to. That alright?” He kneels in front of you and pulls you to the edge of the table.

You want to ask him to fuck you but all you can manage to say right now is to let out a whiny “Mhmmm.”

Logan wastes no time taking one of your thighs over his shoulder and pulling your soaked panties to the side. He looks ready to surrender and give you what you really need but he stays firmly in his place.

“Look what a mess you’ve made, baby. Such a pretty fucking pussy. I’ll make you feel better, okay? ‘M gonna make you come.”

Without another word his tongue is on you, licking broadly over your clit and then sucking as much as he can into his mouth. You arch your back and press your hips into his face. His hands come to the top of your thighs to hold you down, palms hot against your skin.

“Feel good?” He mumbles against your pussy and you sit up on your elbows.

“So fucking good, Logan. Don’t stop. Please,” you whimper as you look at his face buried in your pussy. He licks into you, nose pressed against your clit and you can’t help but buck your hips.

“Look how sweet you are, saying please every time. Such a good girl.” He’s inhaling you hungrily now, sloppy in his movements from how turned on he is but it’s not stopping you from feeling good.

You just need friction. And he’s giving you that, but then he’s licking all the way up from your pussy over your clit, through your pubic hair and up to your belly button — just to tease you. He smirks up at you and you push his head back down; he happily obliges, but not before reaching out one of his big strong hands to settle on your breast, thumb hooking under the top of your bra to play with your nipple.

“Taste so fucking good, baby. Can’t get enough,” he breathes as he begins to suck on your clit and starts moaning himself.

It occurs to you then that the pollen in your arousal or in your sweat might be making him lose his mind too. With the way he’s almost painfully squeezing your thigh with one hand and your boob with the other, you’re sure.

Logan groans with a mouthful of you between his lips, your sensitive clit swollen against his tongue. He moans something into you that you can’t understand, but the vibration of his voice pushes you close to the edge.

“Fuck, gonna come,” you whimper loudly, your hips chasing his face.

You finally tip over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you with an intensity you’ve never experienced before.

But it’s over as fast as it started.

You push your hand between your legs to relieve the ache again but you know it won’t be enough. Logan stands up and wipes his mouth, glistening with your arousal. “Y’need me again?”

You shake your head as you squirm without his presence between your thighs. “Please fuck me, Logan. I can’t take it anymore, need you inside me.” As you say it you clench around nothing, the pulsing between your legs insatiable. You start fucking yourself with your fingers, but it’s not nearly enough – you need something bigger, much bigger, and you have a feeling he can provide that.

The pollen seems to take over for Logan as well, and he finally stops arguing. He pulls off his suit and you silently curse him for not doing that earlier. Seeing those muscles is providing more relief than your fingers inside you. You feel like you could come just from the sight of his big, hard cock alone. It’s exactly what you need.

You slip out of your bra that’s almost sticking to your skin with how hot you feel and Logan roughly rips your panties down your legs.

“You really want this?” He asks as he steps between your thighs, jerking off and rubbing the tip against your clit.

“Mmhm yesyes, need you so badly. Please Lo–” you both gasp when he fills your pussy at once. It’s a feeling that brings you close to orgasm immediately and makes you grab him to pull him closer. Logan momentarily slips out of you again to crawl onto the table, pull you across it and wrap your legs around his hips.

“So fucking hard for you,” he mumbles as he pushes back into your slick pussy. You’re both mesmerised by the sight of him starting to fuck into you, your pussy stretching around him with what is the best feeling you’ve ever had. It burns because he’s so big, but it’s a good type of pain.

You grab the hair at the back of his head for support, and he moans at your grip. It angles his face towards yours and you look into each other’s eyes for a split second before his mouth finds yours. You’re biting and licking at his lips and he growls back against you, holding your lower lip down to spit into your mouth, his animalistic nature taking over.

His hips rut against yours faster as your kiss gets more desperate. You lean your head back in pleasure, hitting the table, but you barely register the pain. Distracted by how good his big cock feels so deep in your pussy you don’t even notice his hand coming up under your head to cushion it.

“There you go,” he whispers, looking down at you. Your eyes meet and for a second you smile at his care. You tip your head right back down into his hand when he starts kissing down your neck, his free hand pushing up one of your tits to wrap his lips around the nipple.

The way he runs his tongue over your nipple has you moaning and grabbing onto his hair once more. You need to feel the heat of his body so you wrap your arm around the back of his shoulders until he’s desperately fucking into you with your chests pressed together.

It should be too warm with the way your bodies are intertwined but Logan looks down to lick the sweat on your neck right up and sucks on the skin there right after. The added stimulation makes your hips buck up and Logan sneaks a hand back to your clit, messily rubbing until he has you coming again and you’re both moaning at how hard your pussy clenches around him.

You think for a second that Logan’s going to come with you but he manages to resist the temptation, biting into your shoulder instead. But that second in which it almost felt like he was coming was the calmest you’ve felt in hours at this point. You realise that maybe it’s him who needs to come for you to feel better. But you’re too horny to say any proper words to explain it to him.

Logan pushes himself up to look at your face but he doesn’t have to ask if you still need more. Your pupils are as wide as before.

“Pussy’s still so hungry for me, baby, hm? So fucking desperate,” he repositions your hips and starts fucking into you at a different angle, your wet pussy so loud against him. This time you feel his dick pushing against your g-spot and he has you gasping at the new sensation, pulling you by the hips to aid his thrusts.

“P-Please come inside me, Log– uh-Logan,” you manage to say.

Logan looks down at you and places a hand under your ass, squeezing you there, “Baby, I got stamina for the entire night. Not stopping til you’re satisfied.”

“Just do it, need you”, is all you can get out as he continues to rut his hips against yours.

“Alright. I got you, baby, I got you,” he rasps, making sure to hit your g-spot over and over until you’re arching your back, biting into his bicep that’s propped next to your face, to deal with the amount of pleasure coursing through you.

A gasp turns into an orgasm and as soon as you clench around Logan he lets go too. “God, baby, so fucking tight for me. Such a good girl. Gonna come–”

You hold onto Logan tightly, your arms wrapped around his neck as he fucks into you, filling you with ropes and ropes of his cum as you keep clenching around his big cock. You can feel him so deeply in you that your most primal urges are finally starting to calm down and you feel the last waves of pleasure flow through you as he comes his final drops.

Logan drops onto his elbows that are positioned next to your head, and, instinctively, you take his face to kiss him. He kisses you back so intensely that you don’t even have to consider whether he still wanted to kiss you now that the sex is over.

“You okay?” He asks when you let go of his lips.

“Yeah,” you nod, noticing that the ache is finally, finally gone now that you’ve both come together, “thank you, Logan.”

“My pleasure,” he smirks and places a more innocent kiss on your mouth. You untangle yourselves from each other in slow movements, unsure what places you’re sweating from and need to clean up.

“Do you regret it?” Logan asks you a few minutes later, cleaned up and clothed, with his arm around your waist to support you – you can barely stand – as you go outside to look for Wade.

“No. But thanks for making sure so many times… Do you regret it?”

Logan’s smile tells you everything you need to know but he still tells you, “Not one bit.”

You smile but then become more serious. “Sorry that you had to experience that,” you mumble.

“What do you mean? You’re apologising for that?”

“Didn’t you feel the pain too? I thought the effect of the pollen might have somehow been contagious.”

He almost looks bashful when he looks down at you, “No, you just turn me on like fucking crazy.”

You smile down at the floor until you see a shadow. Wade comes around the corner of the diner.

You draw your eyebrows together. “You’re telling me you actually left?”

“There’s no way you didn’t stay to watch us,” Logan adds.

“No, of course I stayed but I came ages ago. I was forced to be with my own thoughts while you kept going… and going.”

Logan rolls his eyes as Wade walks on, “What do you think, we–”

“And going…”

“Wade.” Logan warns, turning to you again, “How about we get this shit done with Wade and then go to your place and do this all over again?”

You giggle, “I like the sound of that.”

☆.｡.:*support a writer and reblog and comment if you enjoyed, I appreciate it a lot <333.｡.:*☆

#Logan Howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #deadpool and wolverine #Logan howlett x you #wolverine x you #wolverine smut #Logan howlett smut #logan howlett #wolverine #deadpool and wolverine fic #sex pollen #logan howlett sex pollen #wolverine sex pollen #going to watch the film again as i post this 🤭hope tumblr works lol #fem!reader #selfcarecap

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txkby · 28 days ago

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My experience with the Void State.

Before I discovered the Void State, I practiced meditation regularly in 2022 (literally the year of the Void State on Tumblr), the sensations I had when meditating were truly exquisite, that tranquility and peace are simply incomparable with people, material things, etc.

I swear that nothing has filled my soul like those sensations.

(This is very important, remember it)

I stopped meditating afterwards because I didn't have time and when I wanted to do it I fell asleep, like when you want to get to the Void, don't you think? LOL

I discovered the Void around the beginning of 2023, but I never gave it any importance, i've almost never liked the methods, because it get obsessed, and that's what I did, I got obsessed.

I became so obsessed with the Void that I was constantly looking for information everywhere, on Google, here on Tumblr, Twitter, YouTube, and in endless places.

And every day I spent time doing methods to get there, meditations, affirmations, etc. But I just couldn't get there, I couldn't.

I felt so bad guys, I felt tired, have you ever felt that tiredness that feels more like giving up? That's what I felt.

I felt dissatisfied with my life, and it's hard because you feel ungrateful to the universe, to people, to everything.

But I kept on trying every day to get to the Void, but again, I never got there, not that way.

So I went back to the beginning, I went back to the basics, what is the Void? How do you get there? And I realized that I forgot what the Void really was, I forgot everything because of my desperation and obsession to get there.

What I did to get to the Void was the following:

- I gave up, but not giving up by throwing in the towel, but by letting myself go.

- let it go, detach myself from it

- remember that the Void is a state, it is something attached to us that simply cannot be prevented

- I stopped trying to reach the Void with extreme methods, I stopped trying to get there with steps, with rules.

- I stopped forcing myself to reach the Void, because the Void is not effort, it is relaxation, it is letting go, it is surrendering

- I changed my focus, instead of wanting to reach the Void by manifesting my desires, I changed it to simply having a good time, to relax

- I started doing simple meditations, nothing like "meditation to reach the Void, meditation for this, meditation for that", no, just simple meditations.

- don't look for symptoms because that takes you away from relaxation, it takes you away from the key to reach the Void

- relax, that's the Void, never forget it

And I remembered that the sensations I had when meditating for 2022 were the same as the Void, which means that I had possibly reached the Void State at that time, but since I didn't know about the subject, I didn't make an effort to reach the Void, I just wanted to meditate for fun, and this is very important because when we concentrate and force ourselves to reach the Void, we don't get there, when we are desperate to reach the void we won't get there, when we are anxious to reach the Void we won't get there.

So, after doing all that, remembering all that, I reached the Void.

And it didn't take me more than 1 week after to understand everything I just said.

In the Void I felt what I felt when meditating, that exquisite tranquility, that peace, that happiness, and of course you have no emotions, thoughts and you don't feel your body at all.

I didn't manifest much, I only changed my name, time of birth, my personality, my mentality and voice, because that was why I wanted to get there, I felt bad about myself because during 2020 to 2022 I suffered from depression, my father passed away, the changes that occurred in those times affected me mentally, I had social anxiety, I suffered, it was horrible.

But by manifesting my change of mentality and personality my perspective on life changed, therefore now I am happy.

The thing about my time of birth was simply for fun LOL, and my name, my old name, mmm 🫤 , I never felt identified with it, I was not her.

Like all of you, I suffered for wanting to get to the Void, for looking for symptoms

And not letting myself in getting there, because of my focus, because of my low self-confidence, because of my obsession, because of my desperation.

Give up to enter the Void.

And well guys, that's my experience with the Void, this post is so long but necessary, byee.

(I hope the translation is correct LOL) 🫂😝

#4d reality #affirmations #loa blog #loassumption #master manifestor #void state #manifest #void state success story #neville goddard #void success stories #loa tumblr #law of assumption #loablr #void #manifesting #manifestation

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wileys-russo · 13 days ago

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filling the void (10) II a.putellas

la reinas birthday means another installation into the fresa universe! ft @girlgenius1111 solstråle engen filling the void (10) II a.putellas

“ale? por favour por favor i need help, hermana i need you!”

you’d managed through the searing pan to at least pull yourself up enough to sit leaning against the bath when alexia burst in, almost causing you to topple over again in shock as your sister practically kicked the door open and came to a screaming halt.

“qué ha pasado? estás herido? dónde estás herido? cómo de grave es? estás-” the older girl knelt down and fired question after question at you, eyes rapidly scanning your body for any sign of injury, barely giving you a chance to answer one question before asking another.

“alexia, cállate!” you snapped suddenly, frustrated that she wouldn’t let you get a word in as your sister did just that, falling quiet as you exhaled shakily. taking a moment to collect yourself you puffed air out your nose with a grunt as another wave of pain shot through your ankle and you felt like throwing up.

“hermana, what happened?” alexia asked firmly though not unkindly, eyes searching your own for any telltale sign of what had lead to the late night phone call, alexia’s stomach dropping the very moment you’d spoken and she’d heard the clear panic in your voice.

“i slipped over on the wet towel, think i broke it.” you whispered quietly with a nod down at your ankle, alexias gaze following your own and widening at the purple bruising already setting in and the weird angle your foot was at, the dimly lit bathroom meaning she’d not noticed sooner and she was cursing herself for it.

you meanwhile readied yourself for a lecture, told off for your idiotic choices, braced for a smack to the back of your head even and a reminder that this was your fault, because you were too stubborn for your own good, you didn’t use your crutches and of course thought you knew best.

but it never came.

instead all your sister did was give a curt nod that she’d heard you, your mami arriving in the doorway followed closely by olga who’d just woken her up, both women also looking down at your ankle in shock.

“es tan malo?” you grimaced at their expressions, alexia shooting them both a firm look of warning as they quickly dismissed your worries before gently pushing your head back as you craned your neck to look down at your ankle, your sister deeming it would be more helpful for everyone if you didn’t, olga moving quickly now to bend down beside you.

“a la cuenta de tres.” the girl warned as both her and alexia grabbed your arms and you exhaled shakily, both girls counting to three together before lifting you upward off the floor. curses dropped from your tongue like raindrops at the sheer immense wave of pain which overcame you as they did, your sister quick to just pick you up to save any further complications.

all of a sudden you felt four years old again as your sister fireman carried you out to the car which was still running, very carefully helping you into the back and shooing eli into the front as olga got into the drivers seat and alexia sat herself right next to you.

the car peeled out of the driveway and you tried to deep breathe through the pain, dismissing your mami’s repeated apologies she’d fallen asleep and hadn’t heard you come home, assuring you knew you should have just let elena help you like she offered, but it was too late for that now.

“you came.” you met alexia’s gaze as your sisters eyebrows furrowed together and her hand squeezed the knee of your good leg reassuringly, olga speeding through a red light with a grimace, though it had already been mutually decided this was faster than awaiting an ambulance.

“por supuesto fresita, you called.”

“qué quiere decir? it is broke! snapped!” your eldest sister glared down the poor receptionist who sighed, not as offput by your sisters protective and abrasive attitude as most would be intimated by, simply again explaining that they would be able to give you some pain relief but due to how busy the emergency room was you’d need to wait awhile to be seen by anyone.

“amor? venga, come sit with your hermana. your mama can talk to them, fresa te necesita.” olga murmured gently, grabbing your sister by her bicep and dragging her away, leaving eli to fill in the necessary paperwork while a nurse was sat explaining everything to you.

“oye! you are vaping?” alexia hissed, snatching the green pen from your hand as you looked up with a scowl and the nurse hid a laugh. “no no, this is for the pain relief. she will feel a little uneasy and lightheaded, but it is quick acting.” the nurse held her hand out as alexia blushed and placed the pen back in her hand which was then given back to you.

the nurse re-explaining everything to alexia and olga at their request you’d tuned out, your head starting to feel a little foggy the more deeply you inhaled from the small green whistle clenched in your fist, zoning out entirely until a tap on your leg had you looking up.

you made a thumbs up at the questio you hadn’t heard as olga snickered quietly and the nurse smiled before she left, your sister sitting down on your other side. “ale!” you huffed as she snatched the pen from you, swatting your hand away as she squinted to read the writing on the side, eventually handing it back as you took a hit.

“how are you feeling chica? how is the pain?” olga asked as you paused and blinked slowly, everything feeling a lot more numb now and suddenly it was as if you’d never even hurt yourself in the first place. “why are we here?” you questioned bluntly, taking another deep inhale from the green whistle.

“que? your ankle?” alexia frowned as you looked between both of their concerned gazes, letting out a loud and sudden laugh as alexia smacked a hand over your mouth and a few people glanced over curiously at the outburst.

“we need one of these at home! mami!” you yelled across the room the moment alexia let go, your sister wincing and sending an apologetic look to the elderly couple across from you who shuffled a few more seats away with a side eye.

“ale.” your sister paused her impending lecture, looking over your head at her girlfriend who’d tapped her, reading the article she’d pulled up on her phone about the side effects of the little green pen, eyes widening as she did.

it seemed it would make you act as if you were-

“dios mio did we take shots on the way here?” you giggled suddenly feeling like you were drunk, eyes droopy with a lazy smile painted on your face, and much much much more relaxed than just a few minutes ago when you’d barely been able to sit still from the pain shooting up your leg.

“como un suero de la verdad.” olga grinned, like a truth serum, and alexia despite the small voice in her head which prodded at her to just leave you be, was curious enough to test the theory.

“ay hermana.” she knocked her knee gently into your good one, the other strapped up with some ice though you couldn’t even feel your legs let alone your ankle right now. “what happened to the blue phantoms?” your sister questioned, a pair of her spare boots having magically disappeared the last time you’d stayed over but you’d profusely denied having anything to do with it.

“i sold them to someone at work.” you confessed right away with laugh, snort and a shake of your head, inhaling deeply from the pen. “and your red and blue fluffy nike jacket?” you looked at your sister, head lolling from side to side a little. “i took it.” you admitted with a snicker.

“and your vintage barcelona hoodie? the custom one? i took that too!” you giggled to yourself, alexias eyes widening at the myriad of confessions which came rolling out of you, admitting to many a theft from her closet, albas closet, even some items which alexia had entirely forgotten about, and some that she’d almost beat your other sister for assuming she was the one lying about taking them.

“-and mami? your blue vase with the flowers? ale made me say i broke it cause i was cute and i’d get away with it. but she broke it!” you poked your finger into your sisters cheek with a lazy grin as eli sent her eldest a very unimpressed look from the seat across from your own.

“-and then alba used to sneak in through my window all the time from parties! she’d pay me not to snitch.” you shrugged, inhaling deeply again from the pen and exhaling with a content smile.

“then one time alexia hit alba so hard she lost a tooth then she made her-” your sister shot up, not quite willing to let that secret fully see the light of day just yet, snatching the green pen from your hand and smacking one of her own over your mouth, eli’s eyes burning into her as she smiled awkwardly.

“i will go check with a nurse about the wait time.” your sister scurried off with the green pen still in hand, your mami charging after her leaving you and olga be as you sighed heavily, truly feeling on cloud nine and not at all understanding why you couldn’t just go home no matter how many times it was explained to you how you’d ended up here.

“olgui.” you spoke up suddenly, your sisters girlfriend raising her eyebrows in amusement beside you. “i know you worry that i don’t like you as much as i liked jenni-” you started with an ever so slight slur, olga’s eyebrows now furrowing, a little unsure of where this was going.

“-but you don’t need to! i needed jenni when i was little, i don’t anymore. i need alexia to be loved and looked after and you do that and more, you bring out the best in her, more than anyone else ever has.” you continued firmly, slapping a hand onto her shoulder and making her jolt a little.

“-and i love you, like a sister. eres de la familia!” you promised with a very determined nod and a dopey smile, head still lolling a little side to side as the older girls features softened, pulling you into a side hug.

“gracias pequeña.” she kissed your head as your sister and mami now returned, grumpy look on alexia’s face as she threw herself down in her chair with crossed arms, eli lowering herself much more gracefully back into hers and if you’d not been so high you might have clocked the tension.

but you didn’t, in the slightest.

“ale!” you quickly turned to face your sister, hands coming to grab her face and squish it together as she gave you a strange look. “i love you hermana. i love you! i love you! i love-.” you pinched her cheeks tightly and shook her head side to side with every declaration, alexia eventually pulling your hands away with a wince and a small smile.

“yo también te quiero diablillo.” your sister chuckled, kissing your cheek as your head fell to her shoulder and you patted her leg, everyone exhaling a little as it seemed you’d finally settled.

but they were wrong, alexia tensing up in surprise as you went flying back up into your seat, dopey grin and a glazed over expression on your face looking around the waiting room as if you were trying to find someone, snatching the pen from your sister and managing a half inhale before she took it back muttering about how your pain was more than managed.

“oye why are we here again? we should be at the club!”

~~~~~

you glanced up from your breakfast at the sound of a knock on the door, barely even able to blink before your mami warned she would get it and you weren’t to move as you huffed and leaned back in your seat, pushing the now cold plate of eggs away from you.

it had only been a few days of wearing the dreaded ‘moon boot’ encasing your foot like a cage but you were past ready to tug it off and launch it into outer space, your indeed broken ankle be damned.

the boot was ugly, clunky, heavy, made your entire foot itchy and hot, but you couldn’t do anything about any of that, only simply sit and suffer while it helped you ‘heal’.

you still had to use your crutches most of the time because you weren’t supposed to bare any unnecessary weight onto your ankle in the boot, but that was causing irritating little bruises to form under your arms, which the doctor warned may happen while you still got comfortable relying on them.

though you didn’t want to become comfortable using them, you didn’t want to get used to this stupid ugly boot, you wanted to snap your fingers and have your bones magically heal.

or for someone to invent a time machine so you could go back, rewind and not have slipped over that day to avoid this whole situation in the first place. you knew the boot had to be on for a minimum of five, maybe even six weeks, and here you were losing your mind after a mere four days.

and you were, losing your mind.

the one thing you did have working in your favour was that it was a clean fracture, meaning you didn’t need surgery or any sort of invasive medical treatment. but you did need to go to a physio for rehab to build the ankle strength back up, as well as to see your doctor for x-rays every fortnight to keep on top that everything was healing as it should.

alexia had of course insisted you use her physio therapist, the same whom she’d trusted for years, and as much as you despised the treatment plan you knew if he could deal with alexia after her acl? the man must have the patience of a saint and clearly know what he was doing, so you’d begrudgingly agreed, not that you’d really had a choice.

though as much as the boot and the crutches was driving you crazy that was nothing compared to the absolutely insufferable smothering from your family, which was the final piece in the puzzle of your current head loss and slow but steady descent into insanity.

you knew deep down it came from a place of care, and that being the baby of the family did have its perks, some of which you’d taken full advantage of over the years and still did to this day.

but one of these said perks was not being watched like an organism under a microscope, every move studied, wants and needs assumed and in turn met for you in an often forceful way, in which any and all protests from you were ignored or shut down.

alexia of course was the most insufferable of the bunch, hovering and fussing and bossing you around like your own personal nurse from hell. but as much as you’d reminded her time and time again she actually wasn’t the putellas studying a degree in medicine, she was far too pigheaded and tenacious to listen or let that stop her.

it had even gone as far as her deploying olga to stay at eli’s and ‘hang out with you’ when everyone else had to work since she could do her own job from the couch you’d been basically glued to all week.

but both you and your sisters girlfriend knew that really just meant to watch and hover and fuss over you when the others weren’t around to do that, ensuring that you weren’t left without a pair of eyes over you every second of the day despite once again your protests you were fine by yourself.

though at least olga allowed you a little more independence than her girlfriend did, asking what you needed rather than assuming, helping instead of doing things for you, and she always brought you some sort of food as a peace offering if it be sweet or savoury.

but after you’d almost stabbed your eldest sister in the hand with a fork at dinner last night after she tried to cut your food up for you as if you’d broken your hand, your mami had taken you aside to cool off.

she’d gently advised that your sisters, alexia in particular, still had their own wounds to heal with having made you feel so neglected the last year or so, reminding you that part of this healing process of their wounds was to overcompensate.

eli finishing that with as much as alexia could be insufferable and bossy, every little word and action from alexia came from a place of love for you, and that to some degree you had to just let your sisters do as they needed to feel like they were making up for lost time.

though a few moments after that chat when you’d returned to the table you threatened to stab yourself in the eye with a fork if alexia didn’t leave you alone and let you eat in peace, your mami realised that though she had the hindsight to see and accept alexia’s overbearing nature came without malice, you weren’t quite just there yet.

the worst part of it though wasn’t the fussing, or the smothering, it wasn’t the lack of quiet time and independence, or even the overstimulation of the boot and the bruises from the crutches, it was the boredom.

you’d never been the kind of child growing up who sat still without a cause. sure you had your times when you’d be quiet through sheer exhaustion, but almost all of the time you had to be moving around doing something and keeping busy, albeit chattering away to anyone who had an ear to lend to listen.

this in turn meant you’d had more energy to burn than your family knew what to do with, which is how you then wound up going to training so often with alexia after school, even if after the tooth incident you refused to so much as touch a football for fear of injury, no matter how many times your sister tried to change that.

the running around the field after alexias teammates for hours was enough to tire you out for the evening, which in turn allowed a routine to be implemented that didn’t involve you running circles around your family and refusing to settle down or do anything you were asked.

but now nearly eighteen you’d calmed down quite a bit, and knew how to appreciate the little pockets of peace that came with laying on a beach tanning or the solitude locked away in your room studying.

your job was your favourite way to pass your time these days.

you had a drive to achieve and to want and to work for what you desired instilled in you from a very young age and you were thrilled to have found something you were not only good at, but that you sincerely enjoyed like working at the clinic, and your studies that went hand in hand.

you were often teased by your friends and coworkers that you were like a sponge, just always going around soaking up every and any little tidbits of advice or knowledge you could wring from anyone who had the time around the clinic.

so when not only the doctor but your boss had agreed with your families suggestion you take some time off while you healed, it was like an uppercut punch to the stomach.

your contests in the doctors office that you could sit at the front desk in reception and not put any weight on your foot all day were shut down with three fierce glares and a warning pinch to the back of your arm for the choice words muttered under your breath afterward.

so now without work to look forward to everyday, the rug of your weekly routine pulled out from beneath you in tatters, you were distraught at the thought of so much free time unoccupied to say the least.

you still had your studies you could do from home, though you felt like a nuisance texting your coworkers to ask for advice knowing they were busy.

it was different when you were at the clinic and could ask things in real time and often be shown your answer, or when you were allocated your time to work on your assessments and one of them would sometimes opt to come sit with you in the back office to help on a lunch break.

then of course it was also near impossible to concentrate on anything when at any given you time you could have up to eight eyes all staring at you as if waiting for any sort of sign you needed assistance, forced to sit at the dining room table or the couch because in your room you were apparently far too unsupervised.

between the three women constantly fussing and hovering and offering help you knew they couldn’t give you alba had been the least insufferable. your older sister actually taking your side and advocating you be left alone to your notes and your textbooks, very firmly reminding alexia that not only would she be annoying you but she would be essentially useless if you did have any questions or require help.

none the less back to present day you perked up when after your mami answered the door you heard a familiar voice, eli inviting them in as the sound of footsteps thundering toward you had the first sincere smile in days tugging at your lips.

“fresa!” the girl cheered, climbing up onto the sofa and launching at you in a hug, elena quick to follow and sternly reminding her daughter needed to be very very careful of your ankle. the four year old nodded with a concerned frown as she looked down at the boot propped up on the coffee table, and you could tell by the little twitch in her hands she was trying very hard not to reach out and poke at it.

“but when my foot is all better your mami and i will have to take you to the aquarium chica, just like we promised.” you grinned as sofia perked up with an enthusiastic nod, eli watching on with a soft smile as she conversed with elena.

“are you going to daycare today nena?” you asked, noting elena in her scrubs ready for work and knowing that she’d never take sofia with her. “sí! we have picture day today so mami did my hair special, but she brushes really hard.” the girl leaned up and whispered the last part in your ear making you laugh.

“bueno, se ve hermoso. but make sure you do not blink in your picture, and no silly faces at the camera!” you poked at her with a playful glare making her giggle and push your hands away.

“we thought we’d drop by to say hola and check on the patient!” elena pushed your head with a teasing grin, now stood behind the sofa as you turned a little to be able to speak to her.

“oh! and-” elena reached into her bag, pulling out a stack of papers as you perked up in relief. “eres un salvavidas!” you took them carefully, leaning forward to place them on the coffee table, rolling your eyes as your mami swooped in and immediately rushed them off to your room.

“they are all different reports, all public knowledge and from the last five or so years. what do you need them for amiga?” elena asked curiously about the files she’d sourced, copied and printed at your request. “research paper, if i ever get left alone to work on it!” you grumbled with a huff.

“there are eyes everywhere!” you whispered, pulling a silly face making sofia giggle and elena shake her head but with a small smile as your phone chimed in your lap. “oye sofia, i planted some new flowers in the garden nena. would you like to see before you go?” your mami asked, the four year old practically levitating to her side as eli lead her outside hand in hand.

“your favourite norwegian?” elena guessed with a grin, rounding the sofa and taking a seat beside you as you frowned at the message, eyebrows furrowed together.

“how did you-” your head snapped toward her, baffled at how she’d picked up on it so easy until you saw the knowing smirk and put it together she’d clearly read it over your shoulder.

“you promised to stop being so nosy, puta!” you shoved at her shoulder, your phone plucked from your hand by the older girl who waved you off, already filled in on the disaster that had been your first study session with solstråle.

“heard you broke your ankle. i can drive you to the library?” elena read out the message from ingrids sister and pushed you away as you reached for your phone back. “oh she seems harmless fresa, that is a nice offer to drive a cripple!” elena teased as you pulled another face.

“ella es una gilipollas.” you quipped with a roll of your eyes, trying to reach for your phone back again as elena pushed you away once more. “i thought you were going to try again? give her a chance? that you felt bad with how you treated her.” elena reminded you of your own words as you groaned loudly.

“si, i will tutor her. but that does not mean i have to like it or her, and i do not want to be stuck in a car with her.” you scoffed, again pushed away as you tried to take your phone back. “elena no! elena!” you protested, held off by one arm and a hand against your forehead as her fingers flew against the keyboard with the other.

“you have an attitude problem amiga, tan hostil y malhumorada. you think your mami or your hermanas will let you take the bus to the library?” elena reminded as you finally snatched your phone from her grip.

“you know we do have that wheelchair in the back at the clinic, maybe i could-” you tuned her out as you sighed at what the girl had texted back. ‘that would be lovely! thank you.’ it would certainly not be lovely, however elena did have some point in that perhaps an awkward car ride with a broody norwegian might be better than with alexia who no doubt would insist she carry you inside as if the floor was lava.

so with a stubborn huff you quickly sent your own message back to sol. ‘sorry, that was my friend with my phone. she thinks I have an attitude problem, you can drive me. I guess.’ you didn’t have to wait long for a response, rolling your eyes yet again as you read over it.

‘well I’m not arguing with the attitude thing. I’ll pick you up at 4:15.’

elena still chattering on and you still very much not listening, your nails tapped against your screen as you typed your own reply.

‘your car better not be as unorganized as your backpack.’

an ever so slight quirk in your lip at that, proud of your comeback which wasn’t laced with as much malice as it might seem to the untrained eye.

‘as you wish, dr. putellas.’

“is the answer on my face engen?” you questioned without even looking up from your own studies, feeling the norweigans curious gaze burn into your forehead. “no.” the girl mumbled, flushing bright red at being caught staring.

“then stop looking at it and work on the math.” you hid a smile at how flustered the stoically silent girl seemed as she cleared her throat and slouched back in her seat with a signature scowl. “i was looking at the board. behind you.” she nodded above your head as you glanced back and looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

“the empty one?” “yes.”

“tonta.” you muttered to yourself, the norwegian ready to fire an insult back at you until she noticed the small smile of amusement peeking through the corners of your mouth, realising there wasn’t really much malice behind the word at all.

were you, teasing her? being friendly? no, surely not.

“what is this?” you clicked your tongue in annoyance as your paper was snatched from the desk in front of you, the tall brunette squinting as her eyes scanned the paper, pushing back so her chair was teetering on only its back two legs as she kept the paper out of your reach and you huffed.

“grown up work!” you stood up and reached across, snatching it right back with a roll of your eyes as now solstråle smiled seeing she was getting under your skin. “i am older than you.” the norwegian reminded, again swinging her chair to balance on the back two legs as you glanced up with an unimpressed look.

“act it, engen.” you quipped in broken english, tapping a manicured finger against the math equations the norwegian was supposed to be working on instead of bothering you with your studies. “why do you want to be a doctor?” the taller girl asked quietly, hands now gripping the edge of the desk in the small meeting room you’d booked to keep her chair balancing on only the back two legs as you sighed.

you’d at least managed to coax her through two worksheets, which given how horrible the first session had gone, was progress. once you’d actually gotten her to admit you’d jumped a little ahead in assuming her understanding and you could take it back to basics, she was understanding things a little more.

“not a doctor. nurse.” you corrected without looking up from the article you were summarising, highlighting its key passages with a bright orange marker. the girl didn’t talk anymore, returning to her usual silent ways, however once again you could feel her bright eyes burning into your forehead, wordlessly waiting for your actual answer.

with an overly dramatic sigh you looked up and sat back in your chair a little, solstråle shifting uncomfortably at the way your sharp gaze raked slowly over her for a moment as if sizing her up and scanning for some sort of imperfection.

“i like helping, learning. this-it is…interesting, and important. i like to be eh how do you say it? challenged, and this is not easy. i find reading, writing, remembering, all easy. but this is hard, makes it…fun.” you struggled to articulate yourself without your native tongue, always making sure, as requested, you speak to the scandi in english unless you were actively trying to work on her spanish which you’d not really had a chance to, yet.

the norwegian only nodded at your answer, a soft thump sounding as the chair dropped back down on all four legs, solstråle picking up her pen again and pulling the worksheet closer to her. the sudden change in demeanour back to silent and stuffy had your eyes rolling as you bit back the urge to question why she was like this, choosing to hold your tongue instead.

when the alarm on your phone went off to signal the end of your agreed upon time you had to bite back a smile this time as the tall norwegian almost fell to the floor in shock at the obnoxious chime of your alarm, scowling at your quiet laughter and muttering something you couldn’t understand under her breath.

before either one of you could break the strange silence that had filled the room you reached into your backpack, pulling something out and reaching across the table, dropping a small stack of books in front of solstråle who frowned.

“what are these?” she asked slowly, picking one up which had quite a tattered cover, every single book with a once brightly coloured title page had all long faded, two of them even taped up and most with well loved dog eared pages.

“books.” you drawled back sarcastically as she shot you a glare. “books, for niños. you will read them. help with your spanish!” you ordered with a curt nod, admittedly a little beguiled to part ways with them even for just a little while but it had been albas suggestion since that same little stack you’d read to death and back with her as a child had been what helped you.

“kids books?” the norwegian scoffed as you now gave her an evil look. “sí. and look after them engen!” you warned, perfectly painted fingernails pointing at her menacingly as solstråle started to argue, shut down by the firm and unwavering glare you shot at her.

“fine. even if it is stupid!” she grumbled, just loud enough for you to hear but if you did you made no move to show it, starting to pack up your things.

“are you going to the final?” the norwegian asked quietly as you paused, leaning back in your chair and nodding, wincing a little as you rolled your moon boot clad foot as best as you could, a small bolt of pain shooting through your toes.

“with my family. you are going?” you asked back as now she nodded, advising she would be sitting with mapi’s parents in the family and friends section. you faltered just slightly at her answer, eyebrows creasing as curiosity drifted over you as to why she would not be sitting with ingrids parents, her own family.

but deciding though today had been significantly less tense, you’d hardly call the pair of you friends, and as much as you were curious you knew not to push what little of a rocky relationship you were forming with the broody brunette.

you thanked her as she stood, slinging her backpack over her shoulder and grabbing your dreaded crutches from where they rested against the wall, not missing the way you gave the two sticks a clearly annoyed look.

“i will see you there then, before we meet to study again. if you want to study again.” you left the statement not quite as a question, though you hoped she would sense you were seeking some sort of confirmation or denial to the subtle proposal.

“i would like to. this was helpful, even if it was boring.” she was fast to to add on the last bit as you allowed yourself a small smile which was gone as soon as it appeared, unsure why you suddenly felt as if you needed a guard up but the way the taller girl was looking down at you had something in your stomach feeling a little strange.

she offered you a hand up, a hand you couldn’t help notice was a little swollen, a slight crease in your eyebrows as you studied her wrist which seemed just not quite right, maybe an old injury? it was probably nothing.

you accepted her help, grunting quietly as she pulled you to your feet, hurrying to slip your crutches under your arms as you mumbled a quiet thanks. you were eye to eye for a moment, or as eye to eye as you could be with the tall norwegian towering several inches above you.

then as soon as you seemed steady on your own feet she stepped back, fiddling with the frayed straps of her backpack, looking around the room, really at anything but you.

“boring?” you scoffed at her previous statement. “boring is watching you try to multiply double digit numbers engen.” and with that remark hanging in the air you began to crutch out of the room, solstråle quick to dart forward to pull the door open for you to hobble through, the tiniest of smiles on her lips when she thought you weren’t looking.

“well sorry that we are not all as smart as you, dr putellas.”

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso blurbs #🍓☀️

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