#alright fixed that little fuck

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Look what we've become.

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[chaimachi]

Noiz's Neurodivergence

I recently started playing DMMD and just finished Noiz's route. As I played and learned more about Noiz it struck me that he came off as extremely neurodivergent coded. The more I thought about his route, the more I realized how it really strongly reflects neurodivergent individuals and their struggles in society. The thought has kind of overtaken my brain space, so I've decided to yap about it some and make an semi-analysis post.

A few notes:

Personally, I came away reading him as autistic, but if you read him as ADHD/ADD, AuDHD, or neurodivergent in other ways, that's fair! For generality I'll stick to using neurodivergent here.

I'm basisng this on my own knowledge and experiences, if these don't match your experiences, you disagree, or would like to add something that's okay and please do! I'm interested in conversing with others about this topic and would love to see other opinions.

If I use incorrect/outdated or offensive language please let me know. I don't want to harm anyone with my words, but if I do please let me know so I can correct it.

I haven't read or played re:connect yet, so I won't be including information from there. While writting most of this I also hadn't finished Ren's route yet either, so I won't include information from there!

Why I think Noiz is Neurodivergent I'll admit, Noiz was not my favorite character during the shared/general route scenes. He came off as a brat, a character archetype I'm not too fond of. Don't get me wrong, I still think he's a brat, but more of a loveable brat now.

It wasn't until I entered Platinum Jail and his route in honest that I started to realize he displayed neurodivergent traits. The first time it crossed my mind was when he was in Glitter with Aoba and suddenly swapped topics, asking if Aoba was hungry. The tonal shift was absolutely jarring. Jarring to the point that, coupled with Aoba's response and Noiz's own nonchalance, I realized he wasn't trying to aggressively change the topic. He literally just got carried away by an intrusive thought. He realized he was hungry, and just jumped on that train of thought and got carried away with it. This moment was like a lightbulb for me, I was "Oh, he's got ADD."

Suddenly, Noiz's character started making so much more sense to me. He's got intrusive thoughts, he literally follows a conversation at his own flow, which Aoba finds hard to follow at times. He has his own leaps in logic, something you commonly hear about neurotypical individuals trying to understand, how neurodivergent individuals can jump from one topic to another. Noiz suddenly saying he's hungry and then just leaving while Aoba is standing there gobsmacked mirrors one of these interactions so strongly. To Noiz him being hungry and acting on it makes sense, meanwhile Aoba is left wondering what just happened and annoyed. Looking back at several of his conversations in the general route, I get an entirely different feel for him and several things click into place. He's not purposefully ignoring Aoba when he broke into Aoba's room (he's still capable of doing it, because he's still a brat when he wants to be), instead Noiz is just following the conversation at his own pace, resulting in Aoba finding the flow of the conversation strange.

Moving along to the food trucks, we see Noiz going around buying all kinds of food. He's like a kid in a candy store, literally. He's so interested in these different types of food in front of him that he's going wild buying them all, showing how he's chasing a dopamine rush but also somewhat lacks impulse control. His impulse control with money could be a side effect of or just further exacerbated by being rich, but I think could be a neurodivergent trait for him. Especially because Aoba himself mentions that Noiz is buying more food than one person could possibly eat, and we never hear about Noiz himself eating more than an average individual. Noiz is just so captivated by all the kinds of food offered that he buys without thinking about how much he can feesibly eat. Later on in the fist fights we see him just diving right in without thinking of the danger or getting hurt, but this is also related to his lack of care for himself or getting hurt. Ultimately the impulsivity is there, and while it could stem from other external influences, to me it comes off as a sign of neurodivergency for Noiz.

For me, the moment that made a lightbulb go off and I realized Noiz was neurodivergent (autistic in my interpretation) was when he mentioned just living off delivery pizza and pasta. At this moment I put my head in my hands and just whispered "oh he is autistic." It was such a simple statement, but when I learned he was okay eating the same things day after day, I couldn't help but equate it to how neurodivergent individuals can have food preferences where they prefer to eat the same food repeatedly. Now, Noiz doesn't mention any texture issues, actually he seems to love trying other foods. But he does say he has lived on pizza and pasta for years, which makes me feel like it is a comfort to him because it is simple to obtain/make and he knows it tastes good. It's such a simple moment/statement, but that really helped Noiz's neurodivergence click into place for me, because while not a one to one similarity of a common associated trait it reminded me of a commonly discussed trait.

From here on, I recontextualized a lot of Noiz's own personality traits and it all just seemed to fit together so well. Heck, one of his positive choice options hit a personal note with me. He shows a strong dislike for being interrupted while he's engrossed in work, he does not enjoy or tolerate his concentration being broken, a trait I find quite relatable. All of this together made me realize he has issues communicating with others and understanding social cues. Yes, he is a standoffish brat but he also just has no clue how to properly communicate and read the room.

For his inability to read social cues we have scenes like Noiz kissing Aoba out of the blue and not understanding why Aoba finds it weird. His social normalcy can even differ from the reader, at times, he seems pretty chill for just barging into Aoba's house or job and then having Aoba follow his lead. This isn't even touching on how he seems so distanced from any form of "normal" physical affection such as kissing or sex. Normally I'd say, okay these don't have to really mean anything, but when you juxtapose it against Aoba's (or even Mio's) reaction, it just drives home that his definition of social normalcy and theirs are completely different. He also, y'know seems completely unable to realize that people can just care, taking genuine concern and turning it transactional. I'd also like to highlight how Noiz seems good at making eye contact, until you strip him of his own armor forged of stubborness, then we see him glance away. He doesn't start avoiding eye contact after that, but I did find it interesting that he displayed yet another commonly associaed neurodivergent trait only when finally showing some of his true feelings.

This doesn't even include his own sensitivity to touch/pain. That was another trait that seemed to hint at neurodivergence, a lack of sensitivity to pain has been debated as a neurodivergent trait, however it is known that individuals can suffer from either hyper- or hyposensitivity. I feel like Noiz just can be put in the latter category.

One last bit I'd like to mention is his hyper-focus/obsessive interest in Rhyme, especially after losing to Aoba. I'll discuss Rhyme a bit more later though! Mostly I'd like to point out how his issues with losing could be interpreted as rejection sensitivity almost. I'd also like to propose Rhyme and his overall stubborness as an attempt at masking, not showing his weakness or problems. He intentionally was trying to seem like a standoffish brat instead of letting his inability to understand humans show. But in truth, he wasn't a standoffish asshole, he just didn't know how to communicate and connect with others. And this becomes a core theme for him as his route progresses.

The Struggle to Connect with Others

Noiz's primary psychological struggle is his inability to understand others (because he can't feel pain) and make meaningful connections as a result.

He repeatedly mentions how he doesn't understand Aoba wanting to help him just because Aoba cares about him as a person. While this is also because he's been used for his money and other reasources, that doesn't change his core issue of how he can't understand people. How he has been unable to truly connect with anyone since he was young, leading him to a life of loneliness and being even more unable to understand and connect with others.

His struggle resonates strongly with me on how at times neurodivergent individuals struggle to understand the reasoning behind rules/actions or connect with other people and maintain relationships. I see his struggle, his suffering because he is existing in a world that is not made to help him with individuals who are unable to help him learn to adapt or cope. So instead, he makes his own defense/coping mechanisms and attempts to mask to the best of his ability. He belives everything is transactional, that life is all about give and take. He uses stubborness and aggression as a shield. He'd rather have his wound bleed out and get infected than have another person care for him.

Looking back at Rhyme, it is his hyperfocus. Hyperfocusing on Rhyme makes it almost like Noiz's life line, his safe space. Rhyme is the the one thing that he feels like he can use to connect with others (even if he is still lonely standing at the top). That's why his loss to Aoba shakes him so hard, because his safe space had been intruded upon. If he's not the strongest in Rhyme, if he's not the strongest and loses, then the mask and shields that he so carefully crafted will begin crumbling down. If he can't be the strongest in a world where he's on an even playingfield with others, where he can feel pain, then how is he supposed to survive in a world where he's at a disadvantage. It's Noiz's struggle to live in a world not made for him, where he's at a disadvantage and tries but fails to comprehend others that makes me relate his story so strongly to neurodivergence. It's seeing Noiz get up, and even though he still does not fully understand, decide he'll treat Aoba's burn injury that makes me find his story compelling. His story shows that he can survive in the world, that he can come to terms more with his own inability to experience similar situations. But he can't do it alone, he needs help by his side and I think Aoba does a wonderful job of supporting Noiz.

Aoba spends the route trying to understand Noiz, and when he realizes Noiz's struggle, he doesn't berate him. Instead, Aoba extends kindness and warmth to Noiz. If Noiz struggles to understand, then Aoba won't berate him, instead he'll try to help Noiz. He'll help Noiz learn to connect to other people and not be alone. Aoba was willing to do this before he even helped Noiz gain the sensation of touch, which I think is a beautiful message. Aoba shows an inherent kindness towards Noiz and also promotes Noiz learning healthy coping mechanisms instead of staying behind his crudly made stubborness. To me, Aoba represents a world/individual that tries to adapt for neurodivergent individuals, helping them to understand and survive in life. Aoba saying he'll teach Noiz pain, he doesn't mean physically he means helping Noiz learn and process his emotions. He wants to show Noiz that the world isn't terrible, that there are people who will accept him despite his differences and help him find a way to survive in the world. Which brings me to Noiz's good ending.

Noiz's Good End: Abelist or a Lesson on Acceptance and Coping?

When I first got his good end, I was left with a slightly bitter taste in my mouth. Noiz learned how to feel pain and other sensations, he lost the main reason behind his inability to understand and connect with others. This was done through Aoba using Scrap, so at first I was left finding it to be a "magic cure" for the core issues that made him readable as neurodivergent. I was left feeling disappointed, like the game was telling me Noiz's neurodivergent traits were bad and that he needed to be "fixed." Overall, Noiz gaining sensation, losing the barrier that made his life harder just soured the excellent writing of his route for me.

But then, I rolled the ending around in my head more. I realized personality wise, Noiz hadn't changed. He does come off as more open and emotive, but I think it's safe to say those feelings were always there. He just now feels comfortable enough to let his guard down and show them to others. The only thing that had changed was Aoba showing Noiz acceptance, being the first person in his life truly capable of extending a hand and offering that acceptance to him. I thought more about Scrap and how Aoba says he's destroying a part of the mind, but in all honesty this "destruction" stems from acceptance. Koujaku accepts his bloody past, Mink accepts that it is okay for him to live, and Noiz, Noiz accepts that he CAN and WANTS to connect with others even if he can't feel pain. In return, Aoba extends the exact same acceptance to his friends/romantic interests. He does not fully understand them, he can never fully relate to his friend's traumas and struggles, but he can accept them. Accept them as a part of the people he cares about, and show everytone that no matter what their past was or their struggle that he will be there for them. Honestly, Aoba is just a great friend in general due to his innate kindness.

Aoba himself is what saves me from thinking this ending is ableist in nature. Because he offers to help Noiz learn about the emotion behind pain and how to form bonds, before Noiz even gets Scrap'd. Instead of seeing Scrap as destroying Noiz's neurodivergence, I see it now as Aoba accepting Noiz, neurodivergence and all. Due to this acceptance we can finally see Noiz let down his guard, unmasking for the first time if you will. Noiz doesn't magically have a good relationship with everyone in his ending either. Instead, he starts trying to move forward and learn how to live alongside others in society. It's because Aoba was the first person who stood by Noiz and showed him the patience required to help Noiz learn how to interact and connect with others. Ultimately, that's what I think Noiz getting Scrap'd represents. It represents Noiz finally being able to move forward because he met someone who could help support him as he learns to navigate the tricky roads of social etiquette and expectations. He's found a companion who can help him understand his own emotions. Aoba represents the person who will not baby Noiz and let him get away with everything, but also shows him the understanding Noiz needs in order to learn.

Also our boy Noiz still does retain several of his neurodivergent traits. We still see him leading the conversation at his own flow while Aoba is left trying to say his piece. We see Noiz just automatically jumping to Aoba come live with me in Germany, honestly giving the vibe that he'd whisk Aoba away right that second if possible. He's still Noiz, a young adult who can be bratty and spoiled at times, but now he finally has a support system. With that support system in place, he finally feels free enough to show his true self to others. Becaue now he knows that if he fails or makes a mistake, he won't be ridiculed and locked away, but instead have a partner who can help guide him.

Overall, Noiz's route has to be my favorite in terms of writing because it deals with such a real and personal struggle that many people can relate to.

Anyways that's all from me! If you disagree and the ending still leaves a bad taste in your mouth, that is perfectly valid! I just personally wanted to look at it from another angle and give the writers the benefit of the doubt. I'd be interested in other opinions though! Thanks for reading if you did, I mostly wrote this to get rid of the brain worm, but if you read and liked it I appreciate it!

[starfilledsky2810]

damn I yap a lot

tldr; im alive, sadly im still on hiatus, other stuff is fine now I just have new [physical] problems, you'll know when I'm fully back (give it another couple months) and comfortable, I'm in a [technically well-over] 3-month long ongoing depressive episode [not tryna do trauma olympics or make anyone feel bad btw it's all chill]

so sorry if I've left you hanging [with art or smth], I'll get to it in time, I promise [I may have unwillingly forgotten, likely not but there's a chance]

Hey, I'm alive, I have been for the.. almost 6 months I've been gone. Holy shit, I didn't even realise that it's been that long. I figured I should at least say something in case anyone is worried or wondering even though everything isn't solved yet, so, here. [under the read more so it's not flooding or anything]

Also, I figure I should apologise for venting on main and just leaving it up - this is all going to stay up because I need to keep it somewhere to aid with my memory issues - but, still, must've been a little weird

Absolutely not a good time to say all this [for me bc I haven't thought this message through] but I'm kinda half-back, just on hiatus from socials due to declining physical health. Really badly declining, I need help honestly

Originally, as you know, I was gone because I had a really bad fall out with my mother, but things pertaining to that have been solved now [except me not feeling 100% safe and trusting to my mother, that will never change. She's tried hard, I just wish I could find her reliable emotionally as well]. It's just that, since then, basically, all these physical problems that I don't understand have been royally fucking me up and messing with my mental too. It's messed with everything I love. I don't know what to do anymore.

Oh wait, where I was actually going with this, so

OK nvm I forgot but you'll see me around bc I've been talking to certain people trying to pretend like nothing's happened and I've made the kinda-silly decision to not fully come off hiatus or talk to other certain people before I'm okay again.

[yuyuisabookworm]

I have way too many feelings after that last update please Im begging for this series to have mercy on me it has me in a literal chokehold at this point sadjhsakh

[fadeintoyou1993]

having to explain to people things like. if i have to go out to do something and run errands i need to have it all mapped out and planned w like. at least a week in advance. and if i go out that day i cannot do anything else because That will be it. if i have multiple commitments that cannot be put on the same day i need one full day in between those commitments so i can rest and be recharged for that next thing otherwise i might have a breakdown in the middle of the street (again) and then That will render me unable to function for like a whole three days. and then people look at me like i choose to live like this?

[eastofedean]

8i've been thinking about the last asks i got today. and i think it's better for me to take a step back from this account. i know the anon didn't mean anything by it, but i still feel like i am being a negative presence on here and weirding people out with who i am is nothing i want. so, i am not deleting or anything. i am just gonna be less present with sharing personal things or leaving tags. I'll probably be more active on my second account where i don't have that many followers :)

[zukoromantic]

Hirogaru Sky! Pretty Cure, Episode 14 but only Battamonda's scenes (because i am predictable)

[thegreathomestuckreread]

ACH I'VE BEEN HIT, MAN DOWN MAN DOWN

[gonzodangerfeels]

I usually just squeeze the carotid a little bit letting you continue to breath

If I am in a mood I might restrict breathing too though.

[29121996]

.

[thingsidrawgohere]

Alright. I'm calling it done before it kills me. This is Second Head. It's an Art Book containing instances of the phrase "second head" in fanfics found on AO3. I'll explain much, MUCH more in the cut.

So when I say 'art book', I mean this is an intrinsic piece. I have no motivations aside from personal amusement and interest in outcome. A lot of money was lost/transmuted into free frustration in this project and I have no claims, obviously. I will prolly be the only person alive to read this.

THAT SAID. I have noticed in my years reading fanfic, there's a few linguistic shibboleths that arise in authors who also have experience in the mines. I think there's not a soul alive who hadn't wandered across a 'ministrations' when reading Narutos oral sexing. There's- Hold on. Here's some pix.

There's an impulse, I think, to in-group even when performing a creative act. A feeling that there are certain ways one Should go about the act, by virtue of seeing it performed that way. Especially so when 'training' at the act is often just Doing. Double Dog Especially when the act is exclusively for oneself with very little oversight. Which is to say, we make what we see and we make what we think we should make. At least, at first.

Now, I've been noticing 'grew a second head' (to insinuate surprise) in fanfic for some time. I've never seen it used Outside of fanfic. (Edit to add: I am not making the argument the phrase is from fanfic. Nor do I Believe it is from fanfic. Jesus Hopping Christ, people. That's not what this project is about.) That may speak to my own bad habits but it got me curious. So a friend and myself downloaded a mirror of AO3 from July of 2024. He did some code- Stuff to scan the mirror for "second head" and of the ~13 million works, ~70k (English) results were returned. That's a rounding error, honestly, but Far FAR more than I expected.

This book is 401 such examples that I personally selected for a variety of reasons. The number itself was arbitrarily chosen. Each page is separate fic, the roughly 300 words around our key phrase.

I don't think repetition or mirroring is a negative thing. I think it's quite charming. Nor do I think it's a sign of a 'bad' artist or 'bad' art. I think it's a signifier of personhood, of belonging, of enthusiasm. Of culture shared and wishing to share. I think it's real sweet. I always smile when I catch a 'grown a second head' in a work.

And it's really fucking funny when it's John Sherlock getting a sloppy toppy. Bless.

Edit: Fixed a very VERY funny error.

Edit: I am not making the argument that the phrase is exclusive to fanfic or, fucking forbid, FROM fanfic. I'm stating this Again because we skim here. Also- If you would like slamdunk my ass by stating the phrase predates the Internet or your GenX parents use it, please use 'sailboat' in your comment so I know you're specifically trying to kill me.

Edit Edit: You know what? Fine. I DO think this phrase came from fandom. I think ENGLISH came from fandom. I think YOU came from fandom. I think EVERYTHING came from fandom. The Sun, the Moon, the Seas- Fandom. Specifically Sonic Mpreg. The second head was Shadow the Hedgehog crowning. Congrats!

[tonycries]

Match My Freak!

Synopsis. Trying out new kínks? Careful, he might just get addicted.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, established relationship, unprotected, bondagé, creampíe, bréeding, cúmplay, exhíbitionism (Choso’s), oral (female + male), grínding, breathpIay (Nanami’s), Sukuna is BIG big, with tattoos there, overstím, fíngering, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.5k

A/N. Hope y’all have a great week <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Tied up (for now)

“You’re really serious about this, doll?”

And Toji can only look up when you’ve finished tying his wrists to the headboard with a dainty lil’ bow. Pulling back to admire your work, “Dead serious.”

Fuck, this wasn’t his usual scene. Why aren’t you the one that’s helplessly bound and spread so shamefully on the mattress? Why aren’t you the one with your pretty thighs quivering, hips arching up at his mercy? And why is he the one so turned on by it?

“Fine then.” Toji’s biting his lip as your puffy folds start dragging down, down, down his swollen cock so slowly. So utterly torturously. “Ya wan’ it hard or gentle when I fuck ya?”

You bristle at his absolutely smug tone, hissing out a low, “You mean when I fuck you?”

“Heh, jus’ kidding doll.” he chuckles, waiting until you’ve barely just let your guard down before flattening his feet on the bed. Abs rippling, biceps bulging as he leverages his hips up - right along with you. “I’m choosing.”

It’s all that’s said before he juts his cock up to give you one, sharp thrust. Feeling your eyes roll all the way to the back of your head as he expertly hits your syrupy sweet spot in one go. 

“You little-” All the breath goes out of your lungs as he repeats the motion. Making you whirl your head down, nails digging warningly into Toji’s abs when you spy the devilish smirk playing at his lips, the furrow in his brow that did not bode well for your poor cunt. “You’re ngh- all tied up, so why can’t you act that way?”

“Whaaat?” he drawls, fucking out whatever retort is on the tip of your tongue with another mean ram of his hips. “S’it that bad if I wanna hah- teach my girl how to do it properly?” This time keeping up a pace of quick, shallow jabs that have the mattress creaking, sweat beading at his focused brow, “C’mon now, if you’re gonna tie me down n’ fuck me then do it right, doll.”

It’s all you can do to spread your legs wider around his toned hips. Toji’s cock too massive, the stretch too much. Too good as his fat head hits at your every bundle of nerves each and every time.

“G-good good.” you hear him choke out. “Fix that posture now, arch some more, pretty- jus’ like that yeah-”

You’re wobbling precariously on top of Toji as he greedily scoots down the mattress further, eyeing how your snug cunt was sucking him up so obscenely. Sinking down until your swollen folds were just kissing his soaked balls. A disbelieving little laugh leaves as he watches the way your hips stutter down pathetically to take him in deeper and deeper.

“Oh? Quick learner, huh?” He’s tugging subconsciously on the restraints, “Alright then, doll, see if you can- take- this-”

And God, Toji has never been more thankful for those long hours at the gym. Because he’s bucking his hips up so wildly into your tight pussy, all the way until his tip was nudging your bruised cervix. Dragging against your gummy walls with nothing but the power of his hips and the feeling of you and your perfect cunt and you-

“C’mon now ah-” he groans at the way you’re squeezing him so tight. Angling his head to watch the way the fat of your ass bounces against his thighs, sweet sweet juices trickling all the way down to his twitching balls. “Faster. You can move those hips faster f’me, right?” And fuck, does he wish he could touch you right now. To toy with your pretty, forgotten clit. To move those hips of yours rougher down his cock. “Yeahhh, now spit. Jus’ like I do.”

“Hngh-” you gasp as he makes you spit right onto his awaiting tongue. Once. Twice. Some of it missing, hitting his plump lips. Walls squeezing so hard, stars behind your eyes as you take it so well. “Shit shit shit- too- much-.”

“Aww, what’s the matter? Can’t talk properly anymore?” Toji’s licking lewdly at his now-wet lips, grinning at your strangled moans, “Didn’t you say you were gonna f-fuck- be in charge this time, woman?”

You all but scream with that rough cadence at which Toji’s bouncing you on his cock. Bruising. Powerful thighs smacking against yours, blinking away the big, fat tears in your eyes, you moan, “You’re so mean, Toji.” 

And of course, Toji has the audacity to throw his head back and laugh - laugh. Letting out a mocking, “S-so mean, Toji.” 

“F-fuck you!”

At this, the only response you’re getting is him beckoning you closer with a slow nod of his head. And you barely even realize how you’re deliriously complying before he grazes his teeth across your earlobe. Humming out a ragged, “Who’s fucking who, doll?”

RIP!

He didn’t need an answer - and you didn’t either. Both of you knew, despite those pathetic restraints digging into his wrist - now laying tattered and useless on the floor. Two big arms pin your hips against his own. Ruthless. 

“Because I think I hafta teach you that lesson first of all.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - “She's My Collar”

It’s around this time that you know your husband has stopped thinking about you. When you know he’s just past pussydrunk that all he can do is lap messy at your cunt, feeling well and fully intent on breaking you.

“Kento.” you whine brokenly around your third orgasm. Tugging on those sweaty strands of blond resting at their favorite position between your legs. Nanami’s hot tongue pooling your sweet sweet juices like he was addicted. “Ken- ngh-” He doesn’t hear, of course.

Your lips wobble, the overstimulation too much. His tongue too mean. Pushing past that feeble resistance, making you pull more forcefully on his hair now, “Ken.”

And fuck, you don’t think you’ll make it out alive. Because that focused little furrow of Nanami’s brow only deepens, letting out a deep groan as he wraps his glossy lips over your ravaged clit. Cheeks hollowing while he sucks like it was his favorite candy - and it probably was. 

“Ken!” you yelp, subconsciously gripping at that familiar yellow tie of his. Yanking - hard. “Ken- s’too much ngh-”

You manage to blink away those tears in your eyes as Nanami’s sloppy, depraved tongue finally stalls and shit, you didn’t know if this was better or worse. Because he was so pretty kneeling before your legs - eyes all glassy and half-lidded, neat hair uncharacteristically disarrayed, such a pretty pink blush all over his face as Nanami’s eyes flit down to the tie currently restricting his airflow. 

“Oh!” you hastily drop your white-knuckled grip on it, “I-I’m so sorry, Ken. Are you o-”

“Little freak.” And you watch, jaw sagging open, when he’s wrapping your shaky fingers back on the piece of fabric. Tongue darting out, so wet and glistening with your syrupy juices, “Tighter.”

You barely have time for anything else before he’s so happily diving back in. Nose deep in your puffy cunt, tongue lapping so teasingly at your sloppy entrance as he murmurs, “So? Not gonna use that again?”

You don’t know what to say - but to Nanami, that doesn’t matter. And he’s only having the time of his life trying to make you choke him with his tie. Smug smirk obvious against your swollen folds as he bites down lightly on your oversensitive clit. 

You’re bucking your hips up, “Fuck!” Pulling on that tie so tightly that he’s almost jerked away from your heavenly cunt. And, unfortunately for you, this seems to be the exact reaction that Nanami wanted. 

If you thought the tie would get you some semblance of mercy then you were wrong. So utterly fucking wrong. 

Because two hands of Nanami’s are just bruising on your hips, sure to leave neat little marks for him to kiss away later. Reeling himself back to your dripping wet core, “Hah, fuckin’ cute.” Thumbing open your puffy folds to admire the way your entrance is winking and glistening up at him. “So fuckin’ cute. Don’t think you can take this pretty pussy away from me, my love.”

“B-but Ken.” you’re giving him a playful squeeze. Drooling all over the fresh sheets, “Dunno if I can ngh- cum again…”

“Of course you will.”

He’s flashing you the most devilish side-grin as you tighten your hold on his tie, veins popping up along his neck with the strain to make out with your cute cunt once more. Making your knees so weak as he spits.  A steady, lewd stream of saliva right on your messy hole. Spying on how it drools down your slit, “M’gonna make sure of it.”

And fuck, if Nanami wasn’t a man of his word.

Making your head spin as his hot tongue bullies into your tight pussy, giving long, steady licks at all those sweet spots he’s mapped out. In and out. In and out - over and over.

But it wasn’t enough for him. 

“C’mon now,” Nanami smacks and groans his lips against yours, tilting his head back to look up at you from between your legs. “Pull on it. Use me.” When you can’t let out anything but delirious whines, the harsh feeling of his watch stings into your thigh. Deliciously cool as a long finger is circling around your clit, greedily eyeing how sloppily you were grinding up to meet his frenzied cadence. “Use me- fuck. Use me, my girl.”

“Like- hah fuck- this?”

The tie is now serving a different purpose - and you’re just dragging Nanami around like it’s some leash. Angling his pretty face just right to drag your sloppy cunt all over, nose nudging at your clit. Tongue poking and prodding your gummy walls. 

And he lets you. God, he lets you. 

“Yeah, use me- fuck jus’ like that, my love.” he spits into your cunt, letting his glasses fog up at the heady proximity. “Fuck- making such a mess all over. Hah-” 

“Oh my god- yes. Ken, feels too- good-” Dangerously good.

It was getting so hard to tonguefuck you exactly the way Nanami would like, too. Your slutty walls squeeze him too tight, hips stuttering wildly all over his nose. That tie around his neck only getting more snug, having his head feel so sinfully light. So drunk off the feeling. 

You’re gasping, pleading when Nanami fights against the pull of the tie, “F-fuck ohmygod m’so close- hah-”

But not as much as when you finally cum, sending thick, sweet gushes of your slick down Nanami’s chin. Stars behind your eyes, ankles locking so hard around your husbands broad shoulders. Just covering the lower half of his face - all the way until you could catch it dripping down his jawline, soiling his expensive tie. 

Yet, Nanami doesn’t mind. In fact, he enjoys it. Enjoys untying the restraint around his neck, leaving pretty red patterns. Swiftly putting it around your own neck, Tight. “Your turn.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Knots

“S’too hah- loose.”

It’s all that’s said before Geto Suguru is pulling on that messy ponytail his long locks have been haphazardly bunched up into. Plopping the dark little hair tie back into your twitching fingers, “Do it again.”

If you were in a better state of mind - you’d probably have snapped at him right now. Given him a piece of your mind, but oh it was so difficult to not listen to what your beloved boyfriend was saying - not when he had you folded in half beneath him in such a tight mating press, swollen cock so meanly ramming into you, spreading the obscene pool of cum forming below you.

And neither of you could bring yourselves to be disgusted by it - not one bit. 

“D-do you hah- do you have any idea how fuckin’ gorgeous you look right now, angel?” Geto’s ragged voice is grazing your ear, having you bucking sensitively into his hips. He takes your incoherent whine for an answer, “So why don’t you be a hngh- good girl f’me and tie my hair so I can see you better, hm?”

“B-but Sugu-” you’re sobbing, cunt flexing reflexively around his unforgiving cock. “You said that last time.”

Why would you still talk coherently? In Geto’s eyes, that was a failure. And he’s only giving you a sly grin, trailing a finger down to draw circles on your ravaged clit, “Oh, did I?” He did. “I must’ve ah- forgotten.” He didn’t. “Only once more, pretty, I promise.” He doesn’t.

“P-promise?”

“Promise.”

As if to prove his case, Geto’s gesturing for you to look down at where your poor, overfilled cunt was sucking him so good. Like you were trying to milk something delicious - like it wasn’t enough. Even though your folds were puffy and glistening with his cum, spilling all the way down to his twitching balls. 

He’s grunting at the sight of a thick, slow glob of cum running down your thigh. “So p-pretty, right?” Pulling you down across the soaked silky sheets to ram his hips harder. “So gorgeous? Y’know m’gonna keep this up until-”

Whatever sinful little threat - promise - dies in Geto’s throat as your shaky hands strain upwards to bunch the long curtain of his hair. 

Hips only stuttering ever-so-slightly at that heavenly feeling of your fingers raking his scalp. 

“Mhm, so f-fucking good when you listen.” he lets out a guttural groan, head dipping into the crook of your neck to help his poor girl. “Better hah- make this one be the one, angel - unless ya want me to fuck fuck fuck- fill up this pretty pussy again? And again? And again and again and-”

 And you knew - shit, you knew better than anyone how half-jokingly tying your boyfriend’s hair up in the middle of sex had led to this. 

So you’re giving him a delirious headshake, feeling like one more bout of Geto filling you up with his seed and you’ll fucking explode. Squealing through tears, “I-Ill tie it- Sugu, ngh-”

Mercifully, Geto lets you tug and angle his head all you want so that you can get to work on trying to fucking make it out alive. 

Meanwhile, he busies himself with trailing down on your bloated stomach, eyes widening in wonder as he reaches about halfway down. Five fingerpads pressing down so hard and-

Oh. Fuck. One more isn’t going to be enough.

“God- fuck, didn’t know this hah- tight pussy could even hold that much.” he breathes out. Eyes locked on that steady stream of white dribbling out of your stuffed hole, pushing and pulling with each thrust. Each mean, sloppy thrust. He groans, “Makes me wanna- ngh- give ya more.” Fat tip nudging at your cervix, sending you gripping so searingly onto his scalp. “So ya better hurry up, angel.”

And at this point, all you could do was let out wet whines, bracing yourself with two hands on Geto’s hair while you desperately buck up to try to meet his maddening tempo. Jagged, sloppy thrusts. Only getting meaner. Closer.

“I-I am!” you sob, only having made it past the first loop in Geto’s ponytail. “M’trying so hard, Sugu.”

“Then try harder.”

And, shit, did he grow bigger? Stretching out your gummy walls as much as they;d go. So fucking hard with the way you’re so full with his seed already. So fucking wild as he can’t manage to see that heavenly view without those dark locks falling into his face.

So fucking good and you can feel your release just dancing right in front of you, edging you with each drag of Geto’s veins down those sensitive spots in your cunt. With each twist of your fingers on his hair. Dipping a rough hand down to your poor clit and-

It’s all it takes for you to cum. So watered down and sensitive at this point, merely faint, distant tingles that have you smacking your hips up to meet Geto’s.

And he wasn’t too far behind, either.

Slamming you with one, two harsh thrusts that you think you feel right in your stomach before bestowing you with thin ropes of his seed. Vision hazy, stars behind his eyes with each twitch of his cock. But ah, did he have the perfect view to all this sin. 

Hair pulled back in the perfect ponytail to eye the way your greedy cunt happily milks his fucking soul dry. One he’s almost sad to untangle. 

Balls clenching dangerously at that adorably betrayed look on your face, Geto hums, twiddling with the hair tie around his finger, “Whoops. It came off~ Guess you have to tie it again, huh?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - DIY

You’d meant it as a joke, you really did. 

When your poor, needy boyfriend came up to you when you were in the middle of a work call with your coworker - eyes glassy, cock so rock-hard and leaking angrily all over his fist - you’d just told him to “get off to your panties.” Fully expecting a pouty Choso to tell you to end the call, maybe even sulk until you cheered him up.

What you did not expect was to be splayed out on your living room couch, Choso pressing up from behind. Your shorts pulled down just enough for him to drag his weeping cock all across those panties peeking.

Until they were so flimsy and drenched, until you were frantically hitting the mute button on your phone, looking over your trembling shoulders to whimper out a quiet, “Ch-Cho-”

“Shhh.” he whispers, hot breath hitting your ear. Sending goosebumps down your spine - all the way down to where he was sliding his swollen cock underneath your panties. Just gliding down your sopping wet cunt, “M’jus’ doing what you wanted, right? Jus’ ‘getting myself off’. You just keep going with your call, baby.”

Choso knew that contact name - that loser from your department that was too fucking close despite your relationship with him. The one that insisted on extra work calls, just a tad too touchy. A bit too starry-eyed.

And fuck, all it takes is one graze of Choso’s fat head against your puffy folds, feeling the way your sweet slick beads and rolls down his length - and he was in heaven. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, breathing out a ragged, “Oh, baby you feel so good.” Hips moving uncontrollably back and forth between them. Again. And again and again. “How do you feel so f-fucking good when m’not even inside you?”

“Sh-shit-” you wiggle your hips back, addicted to the feeling of his toned abs rubbing against your back. The scratch of those tufts of dark hair, the lewd thump! thump! thump! of his prominent veins against your cunt. “I wan’-”

“No.”

Shit, did you just get wetter? Choso makes a mental note to tease you for how much you loved this mean little tone of his later. But for now, he’s reaching over to the phone still limply in your hand. 

Deftly pressing the unmute button, he murmurs, low and dangerous. “Jus’ keep going with your call.”

You don’t even have the time to respond, because a confused voice sounds from the other end of the line. “Hey, is everything alright?”

“Y-yeah!” you wince when your voice cracks ever-so-slightly at the end. Torn between moving your hips away and bucking down for more more more- “Perfectly- fine.”

“Oh, well, anyways about that upcoming project…”

“No no no no fuck- hold his pretty pussy still.” And Choso was only pulling your shy hips closer by those slutty panties of yours. Fist tightening around the excuse of fabric, fingers so bruising on you as he grinds his painfully hard cock deeper. “She’s so hah- wet, baby. Leave her with me.”

Trying to run away? Choso didn’t like that, not one bit, as he snakes a hand down to pinch your pulsing clit between his fingers. Rolling the sensitive nub in a way that has you letting out a gasp. A loud gasp. 

“What was that?”

You’re so desperately trying to hold back your loud, slutty moans as Choso toys with your pretty clit that you almost miss the question. You would’ve - if it hadn’t been for the way he grunt into your ear, “Answer, baby. S’r-rude to leave someone hanging.”

“Ah- I uh-” you mutter into the phone. Giving your boyfriend a warning sideglance, “S’just my…pet. He’s really needy right now.”

The word “pet” has barely escaped your glossy lips before Choso’s rutting into you harder. So debauched. So sloppy with the way his precum was dribbling down your thighs, making such a mess of your drooling cunt.

“Oh yeah, I have a pet too. A dog, always wantin’ to go out on walks and-”

Your slick just a glossy sheen down his fingers - all the way down his wrist - from where he was just abusing your ravaged clit. Giving a light flick! before groaning, “Yeah. Needy. F-fuck this ‘pet’ of yours is real needy.”

And then he’s ramping up his pace - grinding like he was possessed. Like he couldn’t give less of a shit if your coworker could hear the lewd squelches from down below. Your muffled moans as Choso draws messy lil’ patterns on your clit, simultaneously spreading your puffy folds to slide his cock faster between them.

Rougher. More desperate. Getting off to just the mere feeling of your panties digging into his hand as he pulls on them lazily, and your cunt clenching and trying to suck him up. 

In his feverish state, Choso’s angry, red tip just barely slips between your dripping slit and into your sloppy entrance. Having you keen, “Cho!”

And that’s all it takes for him to cum - thick, hot globs of cum to paint your pretty walls white. Pulling out to absolutely soak your panties with his seed, pooling between your legs - your stomach - where was still playing with your clit. Smearing it everywhere, like he was proving a point. 

The very same point that has him pulling your limp arm close enough so your phone was right at his ear.

“Hey, maybe you and I can walk our pets together. Then head out for a dinn-”

“I’m the ‘pet’, n’ she’s a bit occupied right now.” he grunts into the phone. Ignoring the flustered bursts of protests from your coworker, “Do it yourself.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - X marks the spot

“You can take it, right?”

You don’t even know what broken little response you’re blabbering out, and it didn’t matter either way. Because Sukuna is shoving his fat head into your sloppy hole - just barely. Not getting too far past that first little ring of resistance, after which, you’re letting out a sinful yelp. Which, of course, makes him immediately pull out completely and do it all over again. 

“Kuna- oh my god-” you gasp, legs trembling as you grip onto the bathroom sink at this dingy little party. “Not gonna- hngh- fit.”

And it’s true, you needed to breathe. To stretch, to maybe spread your legs more - anything and everything to make up for Sukuna’s massive cock and the pathetic preparation you’ve had.

But he’s only giving your ass a sharp smack! Letting out a dark chuckle when you squeal and scramble to claw at the cool tile. “N’ who was the one that hah- dragged me in here cuz she got too hot n’ bothered seeing some rando flirt with me?”

You’re batting your lashes behind at him so deceivingly innocently, “S’not m-my fault. She was trynna hngh- get your number right in front of me.”

“Right.” Smack! “S’this slutty pussy’s fault, huh? And I say this good girl can take me.” Sukuna’s bending his knees, angling his angry, weeping tip to smear his precum all over your gaping hole. He hums at how glistening wet you were for him, how nicely you were dribbling all the way down your thighs. “See? Be grateful I even wet this lil’ cunt for you. Now, lemme feel how tight you actually are, brat.” 

Oh God, maybe this is why Sukuna usually stretched you out - teased you for hours - before splitting you apart on his swollen cock. 

And he’ll never admit it, but just one, shallow grind into your cunt and the man feels like he could cum right then and there.

“H-holy shit-” he breathes, eyes widening in genuine surprise at the way your puffy folds were bulging around him. Not even quarter of a way in yet, yet big, fat tears were wetting your cheeks, “Damnn, girl- ngh- fuck. No one else could compare.”

He can’t stop himself - and you can’t either. The stretch too sinful. The nudge of Sukuna’s fat head against your sweet spots too good that you’re fucking yourself back into his throbbing cock. Inch by inch. So agonizingly slow. 

For once in his life, he’s awe-struck. Staying so teasingly still to watch the way your ass bounces back against his toned pelvis, trying to bully his too-big cock inside your gummy walls. 

“Shiiit- tightest lil’ thing I’ve ever fucked.” Barely even at the halfway mark before you start slowing down ever-so-slightly, “Awww, what happened to my lil’ show? We’re not even all done, yet.”

Fuck, he twitches wildly when you’re turning back with your dewy eyes and it feels like he’s pushing into your lungs. You whine, “I can’t, Kuna- won’t- s’too big!”

Sukuna clicks his tongue, “Not this again.” A large hand coming around your neck, fingernails sharp at your racing pulse as he tilts your head up. “Open that filthy mouth now.” Giving you a dangerous, sickly-sinful grin before spitting a steady stream of saliva. Wiping at the excess on your lower lip so gently, “Won’t have this mouth saying what my cunt can’t do, okay?”

And shit, he’s so big. So unforgiving. So ready to break you apart on his relentless cock. Feeling annoyed at that version of you who’d usually complain about all the stretching out your boyfriend would do.

“Jus’ a bit more-” he’s groaning. Hissing at the way his heavy balls are smacking against your ass. Starting to toy with your neglected clit, “Bit- fuck you take me so perfect- more-”

And it’s all you can do to let out wet, fucked-out groans as he finally moves with purpose. Not as rough as he wants, yet - just calculated, deep grinds just to fit inside. 

“She’s gonna take me ah- allll up.” He’s running his mouth against yours now, free hand dancing down to that bulge beginning to form at your stomach. “Gonna feel myself in here, right? Take m-me until-” Just devouring the sight of your folds struggling and swollen around his thick cock - now, not too far from that ring of ink around his soaked base. “-til I can’t see this tattoo anymore, right?”

You’re jolting, “Oh- please!”

“Please what?”

The fat of your ass almost pressing against his sculpted abs, big arms keeping you so close. “Please jus’ stuff me full, Kuna.”

Fuck, do you even know what you’re saying? He doesn’t know - he doesn’t care either. 

Because in one, fluid motion, Sukuna is pinning your arms back with one of his, using the leverage to bury himself so deep. All the way until your pretty pussy was sucking up that tattoo at his hilt. heavy balls smacking your clit, your slick slobbering all down his thighs - his abs - everywhere.

“X marks the spot, huh.” he huffs, words strained. Reeling back, back, back - just dragging his massive cock along your walls. Slamming back so mean until you’re pushed further up the counter, until he can’t see his tattoo anymore. “Now…lemme show you why you shouldn’t be jealous of any trash, brat.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Splash zone!

It’s everywhere. Dripping from your burning cheeks to glossing over your swollen lips, dripping all the way down to your blue lingerie. Gojo’s cum was everywhere.

But he doesn’t seem like he’s had enough with the way he’s slapping his angry, spasming head by your cheek. Smearing whatever’s left of his Earth-shattering orgasm, “Yeahhhh, fuck- you’re so sexy.” he groans. Breathing as ragged as his words, “Now, open that f-fucking mouth f’me, sweetheart.”

It’s like on auto-pilot when you do - looking right in Gojo’s crazed, half-lidded eyes when your tongue lolls out. All creamy and filthy with his cum, dribbling down to the hardwood floor in a lewd drip! drip! drip! 

“Now now.” You feel a sudden spike of- fear? Anticipation? At Gojo’s tone, dropping to a low hum as he smacks his thighs in a gesture that tells you to come and sit. “Who said you could waste my cum?”

Fuck, you should’ve known better. Should’ve known better than to listen to his goading request. Should’ve known better than to sit yourself down so prettily on his thick thighs. Mewling a little, “But, Toru- You told me to-”

“Did I?” he muses, running a thumb along your bottom lip. Pooling his cum on his fingerpad, “Must’ve been my mistake.”

With a low, guttural growl, Gojo’s then kissing you. No care or concern for the taste of himself on your tongue - running solely on the taste of you and your cunt and you-

“O-oh, Toru.” you gasp away from the sloppy kiss when your boyfriend starts circling your swollen, needy cunt with his dripping wet fingers. Neat fingernails just grazing down your silky slit. “Shit- please.”

He bites down your neck, breath hot and feverish. “Use your words properly, sweetheart.”

Right now all you could do was buck your hips down his long, long fingers, trying so desperately to guide them towards where you needed them the most. Moaning out a shaky, “P-please. Wan’ your fingers so deep inside.” once you finally give up taking things into your own hands.

And, well. Maybe you’re an idiot - maybe you’re a mastermind.

Because you get exactly what you want, Gojo’s fingers bullying their way to roam your gummy walls. Fingertips kissing and prodding at each and every familiar little spot he knew would have you all crying and breathless on his lap. 

The only catch is the teasing. Fuck, the teasing.

“Oh. F-fuck- jus’ look at her.” he growls. “That cunt of yours is such a hah- good girl. How come you’ve got such a naughty mouth, then?”

He doesn’t expect you to respond - and you don’t think you can. Not with the way Gojo doesn’t even bother to fucking ease you into it, immediately thrusting his fingers in and out of your sloppy entrance with reckless abandon. So mean. So dangerously calculated with each time he’s pressing your g-spot. 

Hard. Sloppy. 

The squelches so obscene that it made your face burn. Gojo’s muscled thighs bouncing ever-so-slightly to make you fuck yourself back like such a slut. 

“Yeah? Ya like that, huh?” he chuckles when you’re scrambling to grab at his hair, his shoulders, his biceps - anything and everything to keep your sanity intact. “S’only payback.”

You raise your unfocused eyes up at Gojo, whimpering out a teary, “Wh-what?”

“I’m just-” The smug bastard he is, he quirks his index just right to abuse your magical spot. Hard. “-saying. If you wasted my cum, well, m’gonna have to hah- get back somehow, right?”

It’s all that’s said before Gojo’s speeding up his movements. All but dragging his fingers across your heavenly walls, so so sloppy with the way you’re slobbering all the way down to his wrists. In and out in and out in and-

“Hey now, the fuck do you hah- think you’re doing?” You’re snapped out of your lustful little reverie, and so is the hand snaking down to play with your pulsing clit. Not a moment wasted before Gojo is using the same hand that was currently fingerfucking you stupid to thumb over the sensitive bundle of nerves. “This pussy belongs to me n’ I’m in fuck- charge of how you cum, mmkay?”

You’re giving him a delirious nod - but that wasn’t enough. 

And soon enough two fingers are being shoved between your kiss-bitten lips. Gojo’s free hand pressing right at the back of your throat as he wiggles his fingers enough to imitate you nodding. “Yeah, thought so.”

Fuck, it makes you so embarrased. It makes an obscene mix of cum and saliva drool down the corner of your mouth, coating Gojo’s palm. It makes your snug cunt clench too tight around the fingers having their way with you. So hard that you wondered how the hell his wrist wasn’t cramping up. 

It makes you cum. Hard. Violent. 

Until your vision is spotty, nothing but broken moans muffled from your lips. Squirting all over Gojo’s fingers like he’s infuriatingly wanted so badly. Your poor pussy just gushing, a sickly sweet sheen of your slick coating everything from his wrist, to his thighs, to the overpriced sheets that had just been laid out. 

Even messier than Gojo had been.

Until your boyfriend is groaning from above, awe-struck, “Hey, sweetheart, I think you squirted more than me so maybe we should try to even out the-”

“Satoru!”

A/N. Think I’m ovulating rn, who’s gonna match my freak HM?

Plagiarism not authorized.

[ciaoteamo]

Milk and Water Pt. II

pairings: doppelgänger!Milkman x fem!Reader

summary: the aftermath of letting him in

pt.I

(art credits: @yunonoaii)

warnings: 18+ content

“…what. the. fuck.” You mutter to yourself, watching the scene before you unfold.

“mmm, how about letting me in now? promise i won’t bite you too hard” His eyes were dangerously seductive.

Your desktop fan and the slight rustling sound of (what you could only assume was) him touching himself filled the eerie silence of your office space.

However, he could still tell that you were hesitant to let him in, especially considering what he just did to D.D.D.

“how about this, sweetheart we-“

“if i open this door.” You cut him off. He shuts up quickly and halts his movements with a blank stare. His eyes watching you intently.

“you come straight to me, or else i swear to fuck. it will not be a good time for you. you copy?” Your hands were firmly grasping the edge of the desk as you stared the man in his color changing eyes.

“i promise” He kisses the window and you give him one last short lived glare before unlocking the door for him.

BZZT!

He slowly turns away from you and walks toward the door and you felt relieved to hear a light knock a few seconds later before he let himself in.

“see? you can trust the milkman” He grins.

He was a mess. Between the torn clothing, the blood, and his unzipped slacks that displayed his black briefs holding back a huge bulge, he honestly looked like something out of a wet dream.

“this is quite a small space… you think i’ll be alright in here?” He closed the door behind himself and strides toward you.

“you don’t have any choice but to be alright” You retort and he chortles.

“i love this mouth of yours… i’ve never crossed paths with a human as bold as you…” He tilts his head, placing a hand under your chin to lift it a bit.

“unless you’re actually scared… and using this boldness as a tactic..?” His irises turn white once again and his grip on your chin tightened slightly.

Though you were enduring a near death experience right now, being that you were this close to a doppelgänger, you were unbelievably horny.

“tactics?” You start. You already knew that you probably wouldn’t be able to get out of his grip just by moving, so you used a more… inappropriate approach.

You took a step closer to him, closing in the 2 foot gap that sat between the two of you and you placed your palm over his hard-on.

His grip immediately loosened a bit and his fingers twitched against your skin. What a reaction that was…

You feel more confident, realizing that he’s just another horny good looking guy. “is there a reason i should be afraid of you?” You ask, hand squeezing around him and a finger rubbing his tip.

He shudders and his hand falls from your chin and rests around your throat. His forehead tapped against yours, and your eyes were fixed on each other. “…you really are something”

“wish i could say the same for you“ You start, breaking the eye contact to look at his lips and sharp canines. “you’re just a slutty and messy excuse of a monster” Your words would probably be venom to anyone else, but this only riled him up more.

You felt his throbbing under your palm and grin to yourself before being greedily pulled into a kiss. For a brief moment, you could taste a metallic bloody taste on his tongue.

You moaned at the warmth of his mouth and felt his hands rested on your hips, rubbing circles into the area.

You release yourself from the kiss with his bottom lip between your teeth and a smile. “desperate, are we?” You tease.

“painfully…” His eyes glistened. “what’ll it take to get those pretty lips to go a little lower?”

“show me what yours can do first and i’ll see about returning the favor” You challenge. His eyes go back and forth between yours before he kisses you again.

This time however, he started to undo your uniform. Groaning so deeply that you felt the rumble in your throat. His skilled hands loosened your belt and your slacks came down and off.

Next he lowered himself and lifted you a bit to get off your socks and shoes, making him get more sloppy and needy within the kiss.

At this point he was squatting and you were standing over him, holding both sides of his face. His hands travelled up and down your leg as he stayed in his position and this time, he’s the one to break the kiss.

You were both breathing heavily, and staring each other down. You almost forgot your resolve and let him fuck you right then and there.

But you had to stay strong, for both of you guys’ sake. You take a deep breath in and til your head.

“well, you gonna show me? or are just sit there and look delirious from a simple kiss?” You teased.

“…may i?” He asks with a slightly raised eyebrow, gesturing toward your leg.

“go ahead”

“hold on to something right”

“why am i h- shit!” You would’ve fell right to the ground if it wasn’t for the shelf behind you that held last months documents. Albeit, they’re scattered over the floor now.

Your legs were snatched from underneath you and each one was hooked over the man’s shoulders. His warm breath against you felt sinister. It sent a slight chill up your spine.

His eyes stared down at your sex and he licked his lips, looking more excited than you did for this. “don’t let go” He says before using gis fingers to spread you sticky lips.

His tongue pressed hard into you and drug from your hole, up to your clit. You bit your lip at the warmth and felt your back arch against your will.

“ha~ this all you got? Thought you said you’d be bet- anghh~!” Your eyes widen and your mouth drops at the new feeling below.

“you were saying?” He mumbles into you. His tongue was longer with a pointy tip, and his lips were wrapped tightly around your clit.

The pleasure was almost overwhelming. You could definitely admit that he made you eat your words and replace them with loud endless moans.

As you felt yourself getting closer you began to grind your hips over his face, chasing after your high.

“don’t stop” You could barely get out the last word before the wave of immense overstimulating pleasure came over you.

You curse and take in a few deep breaths, calming yourself down a bit, and only then did he let your clit go with a ‘pop’, making your legs to twitch.

“that wasn’t fair” You jokingly glare at him, the sweat making your skin shine and chilly from the fan air.

“i told you i was better” He wipes his chin with his thumb and licks it clean without breaking the eye contact.

“you have to be some sort of… sex demon” You shake your head in disbelief.

“maybe i am?” He lets you tug him closer by his tie and give him another sloppy kiss. The change in size of his tongue being just below too much for you as it explored your mouth.

“well let’s see how long you can last then… hm?” You ask, beginning to leave a trail of light kisses on his next before a harsh bite.

You could feel him shudder and decided to have him sit in your office chair. “let me borrow this..” You say, undoing his tie while he sat.

You spin the chair around and bring both of his arms to the back and tie them to the chair. When you spin his back around, his had such a mischievous grin that you went ahead and addressed.

“yes, i know you could probably get out of that in a heartbeat” You start and roll your eyes. He chuckles, amused at your awareness. “but, will you?” It was your turn to put on the sly grin now. The second he managed to break free from his restraint, would be the moment you’d send him off.

“…” He read your face, bit knowing if he should say something sly or not.

“right, thought so” You smile and give him a few taps on the cheek.

You kneel between the man’s legs, finally addressing the large and throbbing penis before you.

“god you’re hard… you weren’t kidding when you said you needed help” You joke, rubbing his wet tip through his boxers with you finger.

He grunted a bit and readjusted himself in his seat. You look up at him before pressing harshly on it with your thumb.

“oh fuck you~” He throws his head back and you giggle.

You reach for the hem of his briefs and tug at them, signaling him to lift his hips. Once he’s exposed, you could really see the girth and length of him.

He was veiny, thick… bright pink tip, and god knows how long it was.

You put your hand around the base, it was warm and nearly pulsating. Your pace was moderate, giving him just enough to work with. You knew it was a nice steady pace when his hips slightly jerked up for more friction.

“needy boy wanting to fuck my hand? this wasn’t even the main event you asked for, love” You coo, strengthening the grip you had on him by a smidge.

“i can’t help that you know how to use those hands of yours so well” He remarks, still facing the ceiling.

You pump your fist higher up and use your own skilled tongue to drag along his vein.

“@$?!~” He moaned and immediately looked down at you with a snarl. An almost threatening one telling you that he wanted more.

And were you planning on giving it to him? Absolutely not.

You stare right back at him and smirk, using the same motion and occasionally sucking the pre cum from its leaky pink source.

“i’m gonna cum” Your eyes welled a bit at the large shaft triggering your gag reflex. But he was close so you would endure the slight pain.

His thrust his hips up a few times and you force your head as far as you could before completely stopping.

“fuck- why’d you stop” His voice was almost a whisper and suddenly thick white ropes shot into the air and landed on his thigh.

“oh i’m sorry, i’ll keep going” You reach for his most sensitive spots, overstimulating him into a nervous laughter as he begged you to stop.

It was fun watching him experience more than he could handle, but all good things come to an end.

He sighs in relief, sweaty, heaving, and dazed.

“can i be freed now?” He asks.

“sure, why not. looks like you’re done here anyway” You shrug.

“who’s done?” He stands up, simply snapping the tie apart.

“oh… you’ve still got more in you?”

“im the milkman, i never run out” He suddenly picks you up and sits on you on the desk. Jesus, these things are strong.

You wrap your hands around your neck, suddenly feeling the arousal for another round yourself.

His hands find your slick entrance, teasing the outside and slipping two cold slender fingers into you.

“mmm!” You mean into the kiss, holding onto his forearm as he fingered you at an inhumane pace. You break away and cat h your breath trying to slow him down a bit.

“i don’t want to cum from this, put it in” You say.

“yes ma’am” He lines himself up without your entrance and slowly pushes himself in with a moan. You could every centimeter of the stretch as he went deeper.

You tapped the back of your head onto the window behind you and felt him kissing on your neck and collarbone.

“fuck you’re big” Your voice slightly shook as you stated the obvious.

“and you’re so warm and wet inside, i ashamed to admit that i almost came putting it in” He chuckled before biting back another groan.

RIIIIING

RIIIIING

You snap your head in the direction of the phone and see D.D.D. calling.

Shit.

“stop, i have to take this.” He halts his thrusts and you grab the phone. “hello?”

“agent number” A deep voice says over the phone.

“5 5 8 4 3 7” You state clearly.

“thank you agent (Y/N), we’re calling about a few M.I.A. cleaners? it says in our system that you were the last to call. is everything alright?”

“ye-es~” You feel something rubbing your g-spot and look over at Francis. ‘stop, now.’ You mouth silently. He just smirks and speeds up.

“are you sure? you sound like you’re being threatened” The man on the phone asks.

“mhm~, im fine sir, just a little shaky” You put your hand over the phone speaker and look at Francis.

“what the fuck is wrong with you??” You ask, interrupting yourself with a few moans.

“just a little thirsty for some water” He thrusts harder, causing him to hit your g-spot, and your clit back to back.

You cover your mouth with your shirt and moan into it, hearing the buzz of a voice on the phone. Honestly you should be scared, they could show any minute, but right now, you could care less.

“im gonna cum” You whisper, still being mindful of the potential listeners.

“yeah?” He grabs a young and stands straight up, slamming you down into his cock. You let out something just short of a scream into the crook of his neck and find yourself twitching and shaking in his grip.

You heard a splash and felt him fill you up with his seed. You both were a moaning, groaning mess, heavily breathing in place.

“(Y/N), do you copy?……. we’re on our way” The phone then hangs up and the low buzzy voice is replaced with a prominent beep.

“you have to go, they’re coming” You lazily try to leave his strong hold with a tired push against his chest.

“but first” He puts you back on the desk where you rest your back against the cold glass window. “a drink..” His tongue grows longer right infont of you, and cleans you from your ankles to your navel, and of course he ran it over the bundle of nerves he’s been abusing all night, making your body jolt.

“you’re so delicious… i wish i could always taste you” His tongue goes back to its normal size.

“well i’ll get going now… i’ll be seeing you again soon, love. i’ll try not to cause too much trouble next time…” He gives you a peppery kiss on the nose and leaves.

Well, that’s one way to end your day shift…

[gothghostiie]

thinking about something that happened to me while babysitting and I am unable to cope with it so obviously I have to make it something for yall

thinking about babysitter!reader being hired by price, you just go to check on the little one in their nursery. the baby is sleeping peacefully, you close the door - but the handle fucking breaks off. naturally you start to panic, the baby is in there all alone and you can't get in, so you call price in literal tears. telling him what happened, desperately scrambling around to look at the baby monitor. He tells you to take a breath, trying to get you to calm down, that its okay, he'll come home.

you're sat on the couch, crying in a panic while watching the blisfully unaware baby over the monitor until Price gets home. he comes in, making a beeline to the small utility room, then to the nursery. its an easy and quick fix, you definitely could have done it yourself you think as you watch over his shoulder. he opens the door quickly and sees the sleeping baby before closing the door with a chuckle and turning to you. you're still sniffling, babbling soft apologies, telling him youll understand if he doesn't pay or ever hires you again - but he shakes his head and leads you to the couch with him, sitting you down.

"sit, love. take a breath." he murmurs, vanishing to the kitchen, from where he comes back a minute later with a cup of tea that he hands you. sits down next to you, then gently pulls you into his side. "C'mere now. its alright bird, don't cry now."

[vaguehotels]

curtains

[not-neverland06]

you're not her

The 'Worst' Logan x fem!mutant!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Eat me-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ominous, but whatever. “Sure.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah, look, my favorite fuck buddies.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t. Hold. Back.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wade

Did you fuckers have sex???

In my bed!!!!

And you didn’t invite me?!

….

Wade

Tell Logan I want his claws in me next

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

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

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

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

General Taglist: @evasmlp

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus ♡