#and a daughter and wade’s mom
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thinking about how this movie could’ve ended like any other superhero movie where they go their separate ways before teasing some future threat
but instead it ended with wade calling out logan’s name romcom-style, and them living a happy domestic life together with their newly adopted dog
#and a daughter and wade’s mom#they literally saved each other#THEY SAVED EACH OTHER#quite literally the final line in the film#and now their lives revolve around each other#literally picture perfect happy ending to me#but i also dont want it to end bcuz i need them to come back TOGETHER#i am so insane about them okay#these thoughts hit me in the late hours#and i can’t sleep till i post#poolverine#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool & wolverine#deadclaws#deadpool x wolverine#logan howlett#wade wilson#deadpool 3#worst wolverine
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Disney: you can make your movie R-rated but their relationship can’t be explicitly gay
Ryan: oh don’t worry this is a totally platonic road trip buddy comedy
The movie: The poster says, “best friends come together”, there’s a meet cute ugly at a bar and Logan immediately assumes Wade is there to hook up with him (so does the bartender), Wade calls him honey badger, and angel baby, their road trip song is a rock ballad about being lonely and wanting to meet someone, the second act has the classic romcom miscommunication/fight, they’re having a heated fight to one of the most iconic love song duets ever, Wade says, “the Honda Odyssey fucks hard too bad you don’t” and Logan says, “oh we’re just getting started”, after that there’s a shot where car they're in is rocking back and forth for hours and then it cuts to them asleep the next morning, there’s a line about Wade having Logan’s dick in his mouth (spoken by Ryan’s daughter), there’s a scene where they’re looking at each other longingly through a window because they think Wade is about to die (even though Logan hated him yesterday), Wade is very clearly staring at Logan’s abs after his shirt explodes then makes him put on a shirt after he sees other people also looking, they save each others lives by holding hands to a Madonna song about blowjobs, Logan starts walking away until Wade calls after him and he stops like he’s about to turn around and run back and kiss him but the camera cuts off before he does, Wade introduces Logan to Al like a nervous teenager introducing his girlfriend to his mom, and the last shot is their masks sitting next to each other in their ONE BEDROOM APARTMENT
Disney: ok we have notes
Ryan: no.
The movie: *makes $1,000,000,000*
#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool & wolverine#poolverine#Deadpool and Wolverine spoilers#deadpool#wolverine#istg if one more person says this movie was queerbaiting I’m going to explode#Ryan knew exactly what he was doing#IT WAS A CLEAR TEXT#500#1k#5k#stuff I wrote
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Tummy ache

Do I have kids? No. Do I want kids? Fuck no. Did I still write this because dad logan makes me feel a certain type of way? HELL YES
Pairing: Worst!Logan x single mom!Reader
Summary: It's late and your little daughter Laura won't stop crying and screaming, no matter what you do. You take her to your best friend Wade, who lives in the same apartment buildung. Will he and Logan be able to help you?
Wordcount: 3.4k
Warning/tags: english is not my first language, fluff, slight missunderstandings, Wade bc he needs a warning, implied sexual themes, friends to lovers, just cuteness, Laura doesn't exists as an adult like in the movie, rushed ending?, leave me alone I finished this at midnight
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Logan was snoring on the couch in Wades apartment when loud, frantic knocks sounded on the door. He grumbled in annoyance as he turned, pulling a pillow over his head.
He heard Wade skip to the door in a pair of white underpants with hearts on them and a loose, grey wolverine fangirl shirt. "Must be the horse dildo I ordered" he spoke happily as if it was the most normal thing to say. Once Wade opened the door, the piercing shrieks of a baby crying echoed through the apartment.
You held your one year and a half old daughter in your arms, her face red as she cried into your shoulder. Wade noted that your hair was a mess and you seemed awfully tired. Well- it was late and on any other day, you and your daughter would already be sleeping. But there was clearly something that bothered her. She had been crying and screeching and in discomfort for an hour without you finding what caused it or how to fix it.
You tried feeding her, but she wouldn't open her mouth for the spoon. You tried reading to her, but she would always push away the books. You changed her diapers in case her sensitive skin was irritated by the dampness, but she hadn't peed. You didn't know why she was so distressed and nothing seemed to distract her from whatever it was that made her cry.
You were desperate. And while your best friend Wade wasn't really...fond of kids, which you couldn't blame him for, you still went to him for help. You never truly wanted kids yourself. But when the condom broke and your ex left you upon finding out you were pregnant, you were stuck with your baby. And now you wouldn't trade her for the world. Except in times where she was screaming with no appearant reason. "Hey Wade, I'm so sorry to bother you guys this late at night, but Laura, she won't stop crying. I've tried everything and I don't know what to do" you croaked, rocking the small child in your arms, shushing her to no avail.
Wade brought you inside so you wouldn't stay outside in the hallway any longer. No need for some neighbors to peek their head out of their doors to see what was going on.
In situations like these, Wade could be oddly serious and actually tried to help. He knew you were insecure because of your baby. You didn't want to be a nuisance or burden to anyone because you knew that your daughter could be a lot. Kids were high maintanance and you didn't want to make people feel like they were obligated to make room and drop everything once you arrived with your child. You couldn't expect from anyone that they were okay with you bringing your kid over. But Wade wanted you to know that even though he didn't like kids, you were his best friend and Laura had been nothing but a sweetheart so far. You were always welcome in his apartment.
Wade kicked Logan from the couch "Get your fat ass off the couch, the Lady needs a place to sit" he loudly said over Lauras crying. Logan groaned. You sat on the sofa and tried to take up as little space as possible. "Im sorry Logan, didn't want to disturb your sleep." you apologized meekly. "I can..I can move to the chair here" you muttered, pointing to an uncomfortable-looking wooden chair that replaced an armchair, which had recently been thrown out of the apartment due to mysterious stains and various rips and cuts in the fabric.
You had met Logan a few times since he lived with Wade and Althea. And you would be a liar if you said he didn't catch your eye. He was tall, broad and very handsome, pretty much right up you alley. But there was no way he was looking for a chaotic single mother that barely had her life together and struggled to raise an unplanned child because her ex left her. Yeah, no. You were miserable. Logan didn't need any of that.
Adding to that, he always seemed to avoid you when Laura was near. You just thought he didn't like kids, which was totally fair. Truthfully, Logan liked kids and had always wanted some of his own, but it just...never happened. With him being the worst wolverine and all.
Then why did he avoid you and your baby?
Simply said, he didn't want to scare her. Most kids looked at him like he was some sort of big, bad monster. Some ran away, some started crying, others hid from him behind their parents when he walked by. He wasn't good with children either because they never let him close enough before getting scared. He was afraid that Laura would react the same way like all children did. He didn't want you to back away once you realised that Laura didn't approve of him.
He couldn't bear only seeing you from afar.
As you were about to stand up from the couch, Logan stopped you. "No, its fine. Stay on the couch. I can move" he replied and you felt another pang as he moved away from you again.
Wade leaned over the couch, looking down at Laura who was still wailing uncontrollably. You sighed deeply, a throbbing ache behind your eyes. "Why won't you stop crying? What's wrong, sweetheart?" you nearly sobbed as well. You were so tired of this, so tired of this sound. You felt so helpless and stupid. "Maybe she wants some food? We have some left-over pizza, I can grind that stuff up into a slurry for her or something" Wade suggested.
You softly shook your head. "She doesn't want to eat, I tried. I also tried to read her a bedtime story, but she just push me away. I also changed her diapers but nothing helped" you rasped, ready to just fall asleep on the spot.
Wade reached down to get your crying daughter out of your arms. "How about you get some sleep while Wolvie and I take care of Laura? Maybe we'll find out what's rubbing her the wrong way." Wade said, cooing to your crying baby. You fell onto the couch, closing your eyes. "I can't just sleep when she is crying" you mumbled, clearly deadly tired.
"We'll take care of her. You go sleep" Logan drawled and his deep voice soothed you even more, made you even more sleepy. It was so easy to let your body betray your mind and you hated it. "Okay..." you whispered, too tired to argue. And before you could snuggle into the couch cushions, you felt two strong arms slip under your body and lifting you up as if you weighted nothing. You were so tired, you couldn't even gasp or protest as Logan brought you into Wades room, your senses enveloped with his scent.
He carefully lowered you down onto the matress, covering you up with a blanket. "Sleep tight, love. We'll take great care of your little one, so you don't have to worry about a thing" he drawled softly and only after closing the door behind him did he hope that you hadn't catched his slip-up, that he had called you love.
~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~
In had been another two hours of constant crying and screaming. The kid must be exhausted from all the crying, but she still didn't stop. If you asked Logan, it became even worse.
"God, can you shut up for a minute? I am trying everything here!" Wade stressed, bouncing Laura in his arms and patting her back. "Don't tell your mom I said that" he whispered right after. Laura wailed and pushed herself away from Wade with her tiny hands, which were surprisingly really strong. She squirmed in his grasp, desperate to be set down.
"This is how you thank me? I've worked my ass off the past hour to get everything to your liking and now you push me away?" he grumbled, but set her down with a loud 'ouch!' after she started to scratch him.
Her tiny feet waddled against the livingroom floor as fat tears rolled down her chubby cheeks. She had a tummy ache, but she couldn't communicate that with anyone. There were a few words she knew and could say- cat, dog, mama. But she didn't have the words to say that something was hurting.
Logan sat on the couch and watched her as she stood a few feet away from him with her red face, screaming together the whole neighborhood. He sighed deeply, the sound making his ears ring. Then, out of nowhere, she waddled over to him.
"No, no, bub. Not a good idea. Get back to uncle Wade" he told her, scooting up the couch a bit more. He could have just stood up and walk away- why didn’t he? Laura stood between his legs now, demanding uppies from him as she cried. Logan shook his head, ready to call Wade from the kitchen, when Laura began screetching, stretching herself to Logan, standing on her small tip toes.
With a huff, he picked her up, his big and warm hands eveloping her small body. He leaned back against the couch with her on his lap. To his surpise, she quieted down. "You okay now, bub?" he asked her, jumping as she snuggled herself against his chest. Due to his mutation, Logan was always very warm. His whole body was like a heater and that warmth soothed Lauras tummy ache, unbeknownst to him.
The apartment was quiet now, only a few hiccups and sighs coming from Laura as she let her stomach ache be washed away by Logans cozy warm body. He didn't know what to do! One minute he was tortured by her screams and now she was napping on him. On him! Out of all people, she chose to rest on him.
"Is she dead!?" It was now Wades turn to yell as he came stumbling into the kitchen because it suddenly went all quiet. Logan didn't answer him nor did he move a muscle, too scared to wake your baby up.
"What the fuck" Wade blurted out upon seeing something he had never thought he would ever witness in his entire life. Logan shushed him, making Wade frown. He came closer, his face next to Lauras sleeping one "You little cheating slut" he sharply whispered, earning himself a shove from Logan. "Seriously, did you knock her out? Why is she sleeping all of a sudden?" Wade asked with crossed arms.
"I don't know. She wanted me to pick her up, so I did. Then she stopped crying and fell asleep" Logan explained, a warm feeling spreading in his chest as he watched the slow rise and fall of Lauras breath, her tiny hand tightly holding onto his shirt.
"Wow" Wade said. "You're the baby whisperer" Logan shot him a glare.
Wade went on a rant about how everything would have been easier if Logan took Laura from the start before finally falling asleep draped over the chair, leaving Logan alone with his thoughts. For a moment, Logan thought about bringing Laura to you so she could sleep with her mom. But as he tried to peel her off of him, she started fuzzing and whimpering until she was laying back on his chest.
He sighed deeply. Well, gotta make the best of the situation, huh? With a grunt, he made himself comfortable on the couch and fell asleep with a broad hand securily holding Laura on top of him.
~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~
You woke up well rested. Weird. You haven't slept this good since Laura had been born.
Laura!
You jumped awake, stumbling over some stuff in Wades room before you reached the door. It was quiet as you opened it and you were met with the sight of Logan, the fucking Wolverine, sound asleep with your daughter cuddled up on him as if he was some kind of big teddy.
Your heart soared in your chest, your stomach did flips and summer saults. And your pussy throbbed. Couldn't help it, seeing him with your baby did something to your ovaries. It was...so cute. You wanted nothing more than to snuggle up with them, trace patterns onto his pecks while Laura would squeak out an adorable smile-
"Mama" Laura squealed suddenly, flashing you a smile with her few teeth. "Hey there, baby" you cooed to her, kneeling down next to the couch to be eye-level with her. She smiled brightly, whatever it was that had bothered her yesterday completely forgotten. "You seem happy using uncle Logan as a pillow" you said to her, kissing her chubby cheek.
Logan started waking up, only registering Laura at first. "You slept well, bub?" he muttered with a deep sleep laced voice, gently rubbing Lauras small head with his large hand that easily fitted around the back of her head.
"Yes, I did. Thank you for asking" you giggled softly, amused by the way Logan nearly jumped out of his skin upon noticing that you were there too, witnessing how he went soft for your daughter. An embarrassed blush krept onto his face and he cleared his throat, sitting up and avoiding your gaze. "Sorry, she...she only stopped crying when she sat on my lap"
You smiled softly at him. "Seems like she really likes you, then." and I like you too, you wanted to add, but didn't. "She is usually not that touchy with people she barely met" you said and hearing your reassurance- the fact that Laura seemed to like him- it warmed his heart. But he would never admit that.
"Well, I guess I'm flattered" Logan replied with the hint of a smile, his gaze soft as you lost yourself in his eyes, Lauras babbling fading into the background. For a moment, you let yourself think about what could have been. This baby, it could have been Logans and yours. She could have been born because two people truly loved each other. Did Logan love you? You doubted it. But when he looked at you like that, you allowed yourself to be fooled.
"I don't know how you manage to fuck each other just with your eyes, but get a room. There are children present" Wade suddenly said outraged, covering Mary Puppins eyes.
You picked up Laura from Logans lap, holding her against your hip to bring distance between you, Logan and Wades teasing. Logan cleared his throat, clearly disappointed.
"I am so, so thankful that you guys helped me. I don't know what you did or what was wrong with her, but she seems all better now. Is there anything I can do to show my gratitude? you asked, gently bouncing Laura in your arms.
Logan shook his head "No need, bub" he grumbled in his deep voice. He would have done this a thousand times if it meant he could hold your baby in his arms as if it was his. "Make that creamy ass mac and cheese and my life is yours. That stuff tastes and sounds better than any pussy" Wade chimes in, making you laugh. You promised to invite both of them over for dinner sometimes this week and they happily agreed. Laura squeaked out a cute "bye!" before you went back to your own apartment again.
~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~
Ever since that day, visits to either Wades or your apartment became more frequent and Laura couldn't be happier seeing Logan pretty much every day. She would stick to his leg from the minute she saw him and to the last second before he left. It was adorable and made you fall even deeper in love with someone you could never have.
Wade made it his mission to steal Laura away from you and Logan. Partly because he wanted you to spend more time alone, and to teach her some words since he was her 'uncle' after all.
Laura sat on his lap, staring down at Wades phone. He looked over her head. He had a picture open that showed you, Laura, Logan and Wade. "And who is that?" he pointed to you, earning a delighted squeal from Laura as she pointed to your smiling face on the picture as well "Mama!" she babbled. Wade cheered her on, applauding her. "That's right, and that is Dada. Dada" he pointed to Logan. Laura recognized him, smiling brightly and giggling, but she didn't say anything. "Can you say that? Dada?" Wade asked in the best baby voice he could muster. But still, Laura wouldn't say anything. "Come on, say Dada. Da-da" Wade tried one last time, but Laura unwrapped himself from his arms to go and play with some toys scrattered on the floor. He huffed in frustration. It was easier to teach kids swear words than this.
Two days later, the day for the dinner came and someone rang your doorbell. You left Laura to play on her playmat and went over to the door, opening it a slit before realising that it was Logan. You fixed your hair with flushed cheeks, you hadn't expected him to come this early, you had just started the dinner preperations. "Oh, hey Logan. What are you doing here? Dinner was planned in two hours" you said, gingerly letting him into your apartment which you hadn't had the time to tidy up yet. Logan wasn't the guy to judge, but you still felt insecure.
"I thought I'd help you with the cooking and all. Look after Laura so you can work in peace" he said, knowing that he was just here to spend more time with you and Laura alone to give him the feeling of having his own little domestic family that he will never actually experience.
You smiled at him "That's very nice of you, but Laura is actually being very umcomplicated today" speaking of which, you showed him that your kid was silently playing with her toys. Upon noticing you and Logan, she squealed and stood up slowly, trying to keep her balance, before she waddled up to him excitedly. "There's my little pumpkin" he drawled, bending down to pick her up swiftly.
"Dada!" she giggled, making you an Logan stop in your tracks. "Did you hear that?" he asked you, looking over at you with a shocked expression. You frowned. You had never taught her to say that. "Sweetheart, who is that?" You asked the little girl, tapping Logans arm, just to be sure you hadn't heard her incorrectly. "Dada" she squeaks again, playing with his coarse beard.
You both looked at each other in disbelieve and for a second, you feared Logan woulf shove Laura into your arms and leave. "Look, I'm sorry. I don't know where she got that from" you tried to apologize, but the rejection from Logan never came.
He held her lovingly to his chest, giving her forhead a kiss. It made your heart pound faster. "No, it's okay" he reassured you, his large hand enveloping the back of Lauras head. "I...I could be her dad. If you want me to be" his question struck you like lightning, it was like a damn marriage proposal.
A marriage proposal you would never say no to. He looked at you with hopeful eyes, waiting for your answer and worrying he had overstepped.
"Yes. Be the father she never had. And please be the love I always wanted" you whispered, leaning up to kiss him. The kiss was soft, your lips brushing against the other and it was nothing you had ever felt before. You had kissed your ex- but never did it feel like this. So right. His free hand snaked around your waist, deepening the kiss until Laura decided to pull at your shiny necklace.
You smiled at her, taking her into your arms. "Do you want to play with daddy while I make mac and cheese?" you asked your daughter and minutes later, Logan had brought her playmat and some toys into the kitchen to sit beside her on the ground to watch and entertain her. It was like nothing had changed. Little did you know, Logan had accepted the little girl as his daughter way before today, even if you guys had never confessed.
And as you stole glances down to Logan, who was already looking at you with these half lidded bedroom eyes, you knew that after dinner, Logan and you would be trying for Lauras sibling.
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I really hoped you liked this, I feel like I've rusted a bit. Still got a lot of smut ideas and fics open that I need to finish. Wish me luck☹ if you saw any grammatical mistakes, no you didn't. Leave me alone im tired
Btw, thanks to @buck-star for motivation me to finally finish this <33
#logan howlett x reader#x men#hugh jackman#logan x reader#wolverine x reader#x reader#logan howlett#logan wolverine#marvel#wolverine#deadpool and wolverine#worst wolverine#worst wolverine x reader#mcu#logan howlett fluff#fluff#oneshot
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‧₊˚✧ ❛[ under your roof ]❜
ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel
╰₊✧ your baby daughter really likes uncle wade’s roommate, and logan would be lying if he said he didn’t form a quick attachment to the two of you as well┊2.9k words; prt one (here), prt two, prt three coming soon!!
setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: probably occ logan, he’s on his best behavior, mostly fluff with a little side of angst, single mother reader with an unspecified age, this chapter is mainly between logan & your daughter, reader has a bad relationship with the father & he’s an asshole, one joking threat of stabbing
➤ author's note: this was so much fun to write! single mom reader and her daughter are so lovely and i have two more part featuring these two and logan coming up! i hope you guys enjoy
kids don’t like logan. it’s not a profound discovery nor is it a surprise to anyone who learns this fact. he’s intimidating enough to make some full-grown men piss themselves with so much as a glare, much less little babies who start sobbing uncontrollably when they see a giant scary man walking around believing that he would eat them or something even though he’s literally just standing there. whether the little ones have an instinct that signals him out as a mutant or he simply looks like a bad man from one of their fairy tales, he isn’t sure, but it’s not the best feeling either way when he’s trying to settle back into normal life with the constant weight of knowing that he’ll never fit in.
it doesn’t help that, in general, he isn’t good with kids either. he’s generally patient with their immaturity since they don’t know any better, but he finds the crying and whining extremely headache-inducing to his sensitive senses without a clue how to calm them down.
moving in with wade and acquainting himself with his friends was a start, but the missing part of his life to make him finally feel loved and at home was the family of two who lived downstairs. the first time he met you was also the first time he met your daughter when wade told him to dress a little nicer because the two of them were invited to your place for dinner. he explained that the two of you were practically siblings and that it would probably be something he should get used to, reminding him to “turn that frown upside down” because he was about to meet someone who “puts gordon ramsey to shame.”
the last bit sounded great to him, especially because no one in their household knew how to make anything more complicated than noodles without setting it on fire and the cost of outside food was really starting to tally up. still, he just wore some cargo pants and threw on a leather jacket, running his fingers through his hair once which was already a lot more effort than he’s ever put into meeting anyone else before.
wade didn’t even bother knocking, just being himself and picking the lock as he so typically does, kicking the door open and yelling a loud ass “daddy’s home!” which echoed throughout the apartment as well as the hallway they were standing in. the mouth-watering smell of grilled salmon filled the air, making wade hum in excitement, “do you need help with anything? taste testing, perhaps?”
“no, do me a favor and stay away from the kitchen!” your voice rang out loud and clear, sounding much like a mother scolding a teenager for the thousandth time. “i’ll stab you, do me a favor and just hang out in the living room.”
“okie-dokie!” he responded in an annoying sing-song voice, “come on, peanut, take off your shoes.” the said man could already tell how at home his roommate seemed in this place, just as comfortable as he was back home, walking with steps he’s taken many times before and prompting logan to do the same (except he was mainly keeping to himself and being much more mild-mannered in this unfamiliar area).
the place was as spacious as the small area could be and tastefully decorated, but all sharp corners of furniture were taped over to dull the edges and the carpet had multiple kinds of colorful toys littered about. in the center of it all, was a little toddler about two or three years old, playing with a kitchen set and trying to copy what her mom was doing by running back and forth between the living room and the kitchen. she didn’t even notice the two men at first, not until wade called out her name and she dropped the plastic utensils to clap her hands together before waddling over to him.
“hey, baby! how are you doing? did you miss me?” he cooed in the high-pitched voice reserved only for mary puppins, reaching down to pick up the girl by her underarms and kissing her cheek, spinning around with her in his arms as she giggled uncontrollably. “do you wanna meet the big scary wolverine while i go bother your mommy? who am i kidding, of course you do!” he then dropped her onto the couch, making sure that she didn’t bounce up too high on the cushion and hurt herself. “okay, you keep her company while i go see what’s for dessert— bye!”
before logan could say anything, he was already gone, disappearing around the corner into the sound of sizzling foods and the scent of herbs. pursing his lips together and shuffling his feet around for a second, he grunted and braced himself for the child to start sobbing uncontrollably because she was left alone with him. the first time he meets you, whom he’s heard so many good things about, is going to be when you have to kick him out with his tail in between his legs for disturbing the peace of your home.
but the cries never came, and his eyes met her big curious ones as she just stared up at him in silence. it was honestly a tad bit unnerving like she was sizing him up and carefully thinking about her next move.
and then she started giggling like earlier, kind of a more gurgling noise of playfulness more than anything, standing at his feet and waving around her short outstretched arms to signal that she wanted uppies from him.
“oh no—“ he’s not sure why he even let out a word or protest to begin with when he knew she wouldn’t listen, but it was pure instinct since, once again, he had no idea how to handle children. although she would probably also start crying if he didn’t listen to her, so he reluctantly bent down to pick her up, holding her close to the side of his chest and nervously awaiting her next move.
she was motionless for a minute with a little hand on her chubby cheek and the other trying to clutch onto the thick leather of his jacket, eyes darting around like she was seeing the world from a new perspective for the first time even though he was a hundred percent certain wade held her like his when they are the same height.
“kitty!”
“what?”
she pointed at the top of his head, his hair tuffs specifically, and reached out to pull on one of them curiously.
“no— not a kitty!” he’s never going to escape that fucking nickname, he wouldn’t be surprised if his roommate taught her to say that before she met him in person, able to perfectly envision wade crouching in front of her with a stupid picture of him on his phone and training her to say “kitty” every time she saw his photo by rewarding her with candy or something since there is no way she associated someone who looks like him to a kitten so quickly unironically.
“no kitty?”
“no— logan, lo-gan.”
she tried to pronounce his name a few times before giving up after getting stuck in the second syllable, blowing a raspberry and going back to what she was doing earlier— finding the most fun in tugging on his cowlicks like she was trying to figure out if he naturally woke up like that with the inability to brush them down or styled them with gel every day.
he sat down on the couch, the cushion sinking under his heavyweight, and sat your daughter down on his lap instead, except she didn’t want to sit down. standing on his lap and pressing her little feet into his thighs, she began to climb onto his shoulder like he was a jungle gym, using his arms as stepping stones to reach her destination while he bent over at the waist to allow her to crawl onto his back without falling behind him.
“you’re like a little lemur,” he muttered, still in slight shock that this kid seemed to like him and wasn’t freaking out like he was the big bad wolf. he wouldn’t admit it, but it was a really nice feeling that gave him a sense of normalcy like he was just some guy rather than the killing machine mutant most knew him as. she wouldn’t stop giggling and holding onto him, which made him feel his ice-cold heart melting like snow by spring’s first touch.
all the while, he could hear you and wade chatting away in the background: something about him needing to step away from the stove, how you needed to trust him because him starting “that fire” was a one-time thing, what was for dessert, and then taking a sharp turn when the conversation suddenly shifted to the topic of the father.
he felt somewhat guilty about listening in, but he knew that deadpool was going to tell him eventually, so there wasn’t really any harm in a bit of eavesdropping (besides, it would have been difficult to ignore considering that your baby was being very well-behaved and his hearing wouldn’t have been able to pick up on anything else.)
“so… any news about her dad?” the solemn tone of a man who was hardly ever serious a day of his life was more terrifying than anything he’d ever witnessed in his long life.
“... he suddenly wants to be a family man, i guess…”
“what the hell does that even mean?”
the sound of a knife chopping vegetables against a wooden surface slowly came to a stop followed by a sigh. “like he wants to have a family… just not with the one he already started… he’s busy planning his wedding with the girl he cheated on me with and told me not to contact him again for any reason.”
“oh my god, what an asshole! fuck that guy!”
“i can’t believe that was the guy i thought i was going to spend the rest of my life with, could you imagine? i don’t even know what i could have done wrong for him to be like this— i asked him so many times and he just said that he’s ‘fallen out of love,’ has ‘moved on,’ and that i would ‘be cruel’ to ask him to stay even if it was for the sake of our child…”
“well if it’s any comfort, he would have been on the next episode of forensic files the second i got a moment alone with him— i mean, the last time we saw him, he literally pushed his own daughter away when she tried to hug him! what kind of sociopath wouldn’t adore such a cutie patootie, especially his own flesh and blood?! ”
“it’s fine,” you hissed, gritting your teeth at the memory. “it’s not like he’s done anything to deserve getting to be called a father to an angel anyway, i’ll take care of her myself— wait… didn’t i also invite your new roommate? did he not come?”
“no, he’s in the living room, he’s been here this entire time,” he informed, taking a bite out of an apple like an asshole from a film.
“and you didn’t tell me?!!!” you quickly ran into the said area, finding logan and your daughter together on the couch. “hi! oh, i’m so sorry i didn’t come to greet you properly— and left my daughter for you to look after too— god, i’m just a terrible host!” you tilted your head, “what’s your name?”
he then realized he was staring which was rather impolite, mouth slightly agape too like a fish out of water which left a few seconds of awkward silence in between. “i-i’m logan,” he managed to sputter, “nice to meet you..”
wade raised a nonexistent eyebrow at his strange mannerisms before a wide, shit-eating grin split his face.
“aww, baby, why are you bothering this poor old man— come to mommy, it’s dinnertime,” you clapped your hands and held them out fully expecting her to reach out and grab onto you as she usually does, but instead she looked up at you with big pleading eyes and held onto him even more tightly like a koala clinging to a branch. “oh, did you get attached already? you really are my daughter… logan, could you do me a favor and put her in her high chair while i plate everything?”
“yes, of course.”
you turned back into the kitchen, leaving the two men to follow with one holding your baby in his arms. all it took was one look to understand what he was thinking, logan didn’t need to be a telepath to know.
“if you don’t shut the fuck up—”
“i didn’t even say anything!”
“good, keep it that way.”
love at first sight, wade has seen it plenty of times and understands it well, something so unpredictable and powerful, that it could bring the wolverine down on his knees. it’s even more potent when he trips over himself seeing you in your natural environment instead of all dressed up for a first date, slightly sweaty from the heat radiating off the stove, unkempt hair sticking to the sides of your face, no makeup or defenses up— just you as yourself to the core.
“alright, bub, let's get you seated…” it took a few tries to get her in because she refused to align her little legs into the holes of the plastic piece, but she eventually got into it just fine and he pulled up his own chair to watch you place a one of the most decadent plates of pasta with chunks of salmon he’s ever seen in front of him with a word of gratitude.
“sorry it isn’t anything special, i completely forgot that i arranged this in the first place….”
“oh, no, it’s perfect—”
“you’re damn right ‘it’s perfect!’” wade interjected, “lemme tell you, wolvie, this simple plate of pasta is better than sex, i know damn well you’ve never tasted anything like it in all your two-hundred years!”
“well, now that you say it like that, he’s going to have high expectations and it will taste like ass compared to the actual best pasta dish he’s ever had.”
“he likes ass, don’t worry—”
the said man cleared his throat to steer the conversation back around, feeling the foreign sensation of embarrassment burning his face hit him at full force. “it’s delicious, thank you, truly the best i’ve ever tasted.”
“aw, you don’t have to say that.”
“no, he’s right, i think you really outdid yourself this time!”
the dinner was carried by cheerful conversations and fun stories, and despite just meeting you today, logan almost felt like he knew you for years and this was something a commonplace tradition between loved ones which was something he’s been yearning for for as long as he can remember. as he watches you laugh and feed your adorable baby, he can’t help but wonder about the idiotic man who was willing to throw away something so wonderful— something which would complete his life and fill the void in his heart.
“well, you two can hang around while i clean her up and put her to bed. there’s some wine and beer in—” you watched as deadpool had already opened your fridge and was digging around like a raccoon in trash before fishing out two bottles of beers and closing the door with his hips. “alrighty then, i’ll join you two in a bit.”
he watched as you disappeared into the hallway before diving headfirst into the couch next to the wolverine and handing him his beer, kicking his feet and smiling as if he was a middle-schooler at an all girls’ sleepover. “okay, so she has a solid job as an accountant, has her own place and car, is funny and pretty, but most importantly for you, single. she doesn’t like flowers as gifts, but if you gift her groceries or cleaning supplies—”
“she wouldn’t want an asshole like me,” he grunted, taking a sip from the bottle. “not when she just got free from another one.”
“peanut, i met the other guy, you’re infinitely better than him! as much as i would like to keep you to myself, i have already planned out my speech at your wedding as your best man, so just keep in mind that i’m your wingman, okay? don’t lie to me either, i know you have a little crush, and i think she does too—”
“no, she doesn’t.”
“quit cutting me off, you motherfucker!”
it was easier to try and suppress the sprouting seed of infatuation before it bloomed out of control. he didn’t want to hurt you or himself by chasing something that shouldn’t be in the first place. you deserve better, you and your daughter. you both should have someone who was younger and had the energy to be a good father and husband, not some old mutant who was freeloading off of his roommate and terrified of losing more people he cared about. if you knew about the blood on his hands and the claws embedded in them, you would probably be worried that you allowed him to hold your baby and shun him permanently.
and yet he was already attached, sitting here imagining domestic life where he could see her grow up through the phases of life and help her navigate its complexities while also waking up next to you in his arms and seeing your beautiful smile everyday.
maybe he won’t let that glimmer of hope die out and just hold onto it for a little while longer, allowing it to leave a little lingering smile on his weary face.

#📜. her works#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#x men#x men x reader#marvel#marvel x reader#deadpool and wolverine#wolverine#wolverine x reader
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Logan, the step dad that stepped up! Anyway here's the Poolverine girldads au!
Here's some lore I've managed to come up with for this au:
-in this au Ellie's mom, Carmelita passed away when Ellie was two, at the hands of The Butler, however Wolverine and Deadpool went on to rescue Carmelita and Ellie. They found Carmelita had passed and Ellie crying hidden nearby, Logan was the one who noticed managing to catch her scent saying something smelled like Carmelita, but smaller, and scared and with a hint of Wade. When Logan found the infant, he held her in his arms and went back to Wade who couldn't believe his daughter was still alive. Wolverine suggested for Wade to take care of The Butler while he took Ellie home making sure she was safe and slashing every opponent he found in the way. Agreeing to meet back up at home at Al's apparent. Logan arrived first with Ellie being safe and explained the situation to Althea, with Wade coming back a couple days later, exhausted but relieved that the butler is now gone. After that for the sake of Ellie both Logan and Wade decided to "quit" the hero business and find regular jobs, settling in to start a more domestic life and raise Ellie together, only helping the Xmen on smaller, low risk missions if they're truly needed.
-after a year Laura was born, in this au she's Logan's biological daughter, as to how she was born, my version of Logan is trans, so you piece together the rest. Ellie was excited to have a little sister but Wade and Logan quickly realized that Al's apartment was starting to get too small for their growing family, so they chose to move out with both girls and Mary puppins to a place that wasn't too far from Al's apparent due to sentimental issues (a.k.a the boys being too attached to Al to completely move out of her life, they visit her every weekend ;3)
-when Laura was born her hair was white, this was because wolverine kits are born with white fur, and by now I think you all know I love giving Logan more animalistic features and traits, so it'll be the same for Laura, as she starts to grow up, the white hair/fur started to shed and turned into dark brown hair.
-Laura inherited Logan's mutation because I'm throwing that "only the (cis) father can pass the mutant gene stuff" through the window. My wolverine is afab/transmasc and still able to pass on his mutation to his child.
That's all the lore I've got so far. If anyone has any questions my ask box is open so feel free to ask anything from this au and I'll be happy to answer, who knows, maybe that'll help me develop it even further 💖
#my art#myart#artists on tumblr#my artwork#fanart#digital art#Poolverine girldads au#Poolverine#poolverine fanart#wolverpool#deadclaws#deathclaws#wolverine#wolverine fanart#deadpool and wolverine#logan wolverine#deadpool and wolverine fanart#wolverine x deadpool#deadpool#deadpool fanart#deadpool x wolverine#wolverine and deadpool#wade wilson#wade wilson fanart#wade x logan#logan howlett#ellie camacho#laura kinney#poolverine girldads au
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𓇼 𝘈𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘻 𝘍𝘪𝘤 𝘙𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘌𝘱.𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯 𓇼 𓆞 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴 𓆞 𓇼 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘴/𝘈𝘨𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴/𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𓇼 𓇼 𝘰𝘵8/𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘴 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Accidentally Have 8 Pets - @xuchiya ot8 x reader (series) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Ateez Responding To You Telling Them You Want A Divorce - @deerieme bf!ot8 x reader (text scenarios) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Bassists Do It Deeper - @crimsonbubble rockstar!hongjoong x reader x bassists!mingi (thoughts) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Calling Them Pretty - @nightbeforethend bf!ot8 x reader (text scenarios) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Coppélia - @spookwriter-xo mafia!ot8 x ballerina!reader (series) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘬𝘪𝘮 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘫𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓆞 A Deal With The Devil - @mingi-s-dimples devil!hongjoong x pastor’s daughter!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Captain Little Mate: Round 2 - @crimsonbubble dad!hongjoong x mom!reader (hard thoughts) 𓆞 𓆞 Car Sex - @yourfatherlucifer bf!hongjoong x gf!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Cry For Me [Part One | Part Two | Part Three] - @yeostinys ceo!hongjoong x secretary!reader (three parts) 𓆞 𓆞 Detective Kim - @mingkismain detective!hongjoong x detective!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘸𝘢 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Drunken Love - @kisseudoll bf!seonghwa x gf!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Pink Star Presents - @holybibly pornstar!seonghwa x pornstar!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Pink Yarn - @daydreamingaboutkoreanmen idol!seonghwa x gn!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Survivors - @koyagifs firefighter!seonghwa x er nurse!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Tattoo Artist Seonghwa - @everyonewooeverywhere tattoo artist!seonghwa x reader (drabble) 𓆞
𓇼 𝘫𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓆞 Daddy’s Summer Fling - @mingi-s-dimples dilf!yunho x daughter’s best friend!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Don’t Hate The Player - @vampzity bf!yunho x gf!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Livestream - @yunniverse bf!yunho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Love Again - @xomakara single dad!yunho x single mom!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Lust & Love & Loss - @bananayuyu non-idol!yunho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘬𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘦𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Nothing To Prove - @makeitmingi bf!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Pillow Princess - @look-at-the-way-i-ride bf!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 The Hills - @ateezscupid ex bf!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Snowflake - @mingi-s-dimples bf!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 You're Mine Baby - @wwooyology ex-bf!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘯 𓇼 𓆞 Casting Couch - @kitten4sannie frat boy!san x reader ft. frat boy!yungi (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Spiderman - @koyagifs spiderman!san x reader ft.wooyoung (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 The Perfect Cocktail - @covenha best friend!san x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 This Is How I Flirt - @yothangie boxer!san x med student!reader (smau series) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Wading In Wait - @pyeongstarr non-idol!san x yandere!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 By Her Side - @arilevenatz bodyguard!mingi x princess!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Little Doe - @bunnliix outlaw!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Me And My Wife - @koyagifs husband!idol!mingi x wife!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Strangers By Nature - @seongwars heir!mingi x heri!reader (series) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Your Secret Fan [Part One | Part Two] - @strrykais idol!mingi x idol!reader (smau) 𓈒𓏸
𓇼 𝘫𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Asking You To Be His Valentine's - @makeitmingi idol!single-dad!wooyoung x dance teacher!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Secret Santa - @dinossaurz bf!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 The Beauty of Us - @xuchiya bf!wooyoung x gf!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Thrill Of The Chase - @wwooyology bf!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Vivrant Thing - @hwaslayer best friend's brother!wooyoung x reader (series) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘫𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 A Cozy Game Night - @03jyh23 bfjongho x gn!reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Hand Marks - @vampzity ceo!husband!jongho x wife!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Healthy Study Habits - @ohsoimaginari bf!jongho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Part Of Your World - @makeitmingi bf!ceo!jongho x single mom!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Put The Book Down - @fivestaralien bf!jongho x gn!reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸
#𓇼 beabatiny#𓇼 beabatiny recs#ateez au recs#ateez fics recs#ateez x reader#ateez smut#hongjoong x reader#seonghwa x reader#yunho x reader#yeosang x reader#san x reader#mingi x reader#wooyoung x reader#jongho x reader
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Like Father Like Daughter
I have so many WIPs from different fandoms and this Wolverine fic ideas just keep coming and coming... I appreciate so much the support I've been shown, I don't look at the notes because it shows in activity that is 99+ and I get anxious lol. Logan has a nasty temper but is really fun to write.
Living with an ill-tempered man like Logan wasn't always easy, but living with him and his variant's teenaged clone turned adopted daughter who had the exact same temper as him, was proving to be quite the challenge.
As anybody would expect, those two were constantly butting heads at everything, be it food, curfews, or, just as they were doing at this very moment, Laura's choices in fashion.
The girl had chosen some shorts and black leggings, with black sneakers, and a crop top that was way too short for an old fashioned man like Logan to approve, to hang out with some friends she had made at her new high school. Barely sparing a glance at her outfit, Logan had snapped at her to go back to her room and change into something more appropiate, which Laura took it as well as any teenage girl that had spent part of her earliest teen years dressing and doing what she pleased in the void would. And then the screaming match had begun.
"NO CHILD OF MINE IS GOING OUT DRESSED UP LIKE THAT."
"IT'S JUST A SHIRT, IT'S NOT A BIG DEAL."
You let out a quiet sigh. You knew daughters were supposed to rebel against their parents, but having two superpowered beings at each other's throats at all times wasn't the great idea the universe thought it was. You knew they loved each other deeply and would kill for each other, but sometimes they were way too much alike.
"Sweetie, listen to Daddy on this one, he just wants what's best for you."
How the fuck had Wade gotten in and embraced your husband's muscular arm without anyone noticing. With a low growl, Logan pushed him away. Laura did not seem too pleased with him either.
"FUCK OFF, YOU AREN'T MY MOM!"
Wade covered his mouth and let out a shocked gasp that honestly was worthy of an Oscar nomination. You quietly thanked him for his presence, maybe that would help relieve the tension in the room. Laura turned at you, imploringly.
"Tell him he's just overreacting. Please."
You sneakily looked at your husband, who seemed to be red with rage, his lips pulled back in a feral snarl that clearly was a display of dominance, knuckles pressed against the wooden table so tightly that you started to fear for the well being of the furniture. His muscles were so tense he looked like he was going to burst out of his shirt, by the way the veins in his neck were swelling.
You didn't want to disrespect his authority over his daughter, but you also didn't want to make Laura direct her hate at you; you loved that girl and her attitude as if she was your own child. It seemed they needed some consesus, and you guessed you'd have to be once again the bigger person here.
"Laura, your father is just worried about you. If you want to wear that top, then you'd have to put a jacket on. And we want you back home by eleven."
"But my friends-" She started to protest, but you quickly cut her off.
"Eleven and that's more than your father was willing to give you."
She bit her lip, considering her options. With a huff, she stomped back towards her room to get that jacket. She slammed the front door on the way back out, not even bothering to say goodbye. Teenagers.
The living room got quiet. Really quiet. You could only hear Wade munching on some popcorn he had gotten from God knows where. Logan was fuming, not at you of course, but at his unruly adoptive daughter's behavior. He stormed towards your shared bedroom and slammed the door close hard enough, it made the pictures on the wall tremble. You sighed.
Well that went well.
It wasn't until half an hour later that he cooled off and decided to come out. You were cleaning up some dishes while Wade sat on the couch watching some cartoons. It made you smile, it was like you had two children running around.
You felt your husband's stubble and nose nuzzle against the back of your neck, as he embraced you from behind, his massive hands covering the entire expanse of your fourth month pregnant belly. "Feeling better now?" You casually asked.
His teeth nipped at the skin on your neck leaving a burning feeling that only his tongue could soothe. "I don't know what to do with her, she seems to fight against everything I do or say." His deep rumbling voice sent shivers running down your spine.
"Deep down she knows you love her. And she loves you too, even if she is too 'cool' to admit it." He let out a bitter chuckle, massaging your belly while leaning his chin on your shoulder, his sideburns made you tickle.
"I just hope this little one doesn't give us that much trouble."
"Hey, however they come out, we will love them the same, because they are a part of our family." He kissed your cheek and you leaned back into his embrace.
"Yes, our family." You let out a laugh at the sudden extra weight on your backs. Looks like Wade had gotten tired of the tv and had decided to join you into your little embrace.
"Wade..." Logan started warningly, carefully prying his hands away from your belly.
*SNIKT*
#wolverine#wolverine x reader#logan howlett#logan x reader#logan howlett x reader#james logan howlett#deadpool and wolverine#x men
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Mini comic I made based on a convo I had with my mom



Also, for the people who don't believe me 👇


(Stony isn't technically canon but it was in a fantastic 4 comic with a female Tony countperart. Idk, I haven't read it and only know about it when i was bored and checked the shipping wiki while zoning out of a movie. It's weird)


(Random note for spideypool: Wade will flirt with anything that moves, but what showd he had an actual crush on Spidey beyind attraction was when his daughter pointed out how much he talked about him and he got embarrassed. Also, the fact that he changed his entire moral code for Spidey. And they're confirmed heartmates. I haven't gotten that far in the comic yet, but I think it's like soulmates but more romantic. Also, Deadpool had a free pass list of people he can sleep with while he was married (his wife signed it and everything), and Spiderman was number five


#i cant believe she would just insult Spideypool in front of me#she's heartless 😔#and also knows jack shit about marvel but she's there so shes forced to listen to my rants#marvel#mcu#comic#artists on tumblr#shitpost#symbrock#venom#venom symbiote#eddie brock#stony#captain america#steve rogers#iron man#tony stark#morpherine#morph#kevin sydney#wolverine#logan#logan howlett#spideypool#wade wilson#deadpool#spiderman#peter parker#art
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i love you, in every life ࿐‧₊ worst logan - imperfect for you


chapter summary: You and Laura find yourselves in the void. A few months later, Wade—who claims to be from your universe, and a different Logan appear with a way out.
word count: 17.3k+ (31k+ total)
pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader
notes: alright! this is the second part, the first part was the logan movie, and while i recommend you read it, you don't necessarily have to.
most of this actually takes place after 'deadpool and wolverine.' surprisingly, i found this logan to be the hardest to write for, so i apologize if people think his character is wrong, i tried my best😭
also this is split in two parts! it's too long for tumblr to fit in one post!
(also, i know that it's 10 pm est, but i felt like i had to put this out now after watching lady gaga and bruno mars' performance at the grammy's)
warnings/tags: canon to 'deadpool and wolverine', black widow!reader, worst!logan, laura calls reader mom, violence, heavy angst, detached!reader, loverboy!logan, slow burn, fluff, wade wilson interruption, happy ending, not proofread
series masterlist - part 1 → part 2.5
“Laura!” You called out, your voice bouncing off the walls of the house. “Lau—”
“I’m here! I’m here.” Laura said, walking away from the staircase and to the front door where you stood.
You put your hands on your hips, “you know, you can try to skip school again, but I will find out. Like I always do.”
She rolled her eyes, adjusting her backpack, “yeah, you’re all-knowing Mom. Can we just go? I promise I won’t skip school again.” Laura walked past you, “even if it was just last period.” She muttered.
You leaned over her shoulder, “wanna say that again?” You asked with a smirk, as she sighed and shook her head before opening the door.
At least 5 people in black suits with orange accents. “Y/N Howlett? Laura Keen?”
Your hand reached behind your back for your hidden dagger as Laura clenched her fists, claws ready to come out.
“Yes?” You asked hesitantly.
“On behalf of the Time Variance Authority, I hereby arrest you for crimes against the sacred timeline.” The man without a helmet said, “hands up.”
Both you and Laura moved at the same time, with you throwing your dagger into the chest of one of the men and Laura stabbing one of them with her claws. Before you could do much more, someone from behind grabbed you, pulling you backwards through an orange door, another man doing the same with Laura.
Immediately you were both in another place, it almost looked like a retro, but futuristic, office space. Laura growled at the man holding her, but his grip on her was surprisingly tight.
“You punched a hole in the timeline after that stunt. Now, you have to be terminated.” A woman said to you, as you tilted your head.
“Come again? Hole—timeline—what?”
The woman narrowed her eyes at you, “you gave your husband back his memories and caused a large anomaly, spreading you throughout the timeline.”
“You’re making no fucking sense. You can’t just take me and my daughter away from—”
The woman looked at one of the men who brought you and Laura here, “this is the one from Earth-100006, right?”
The man looked down at his small tablet then back up at the woman. “…No. They’re from Earth-100005.”
She sighed, waving her hand. “Terminate them.”
“What?” You growled, taking one step forward before a baton touched you, making you disappear.
“Mom!” Laura yelled. “What did you do to—” The baton touched Laura, making her disappear as well.
---
When you woke up, you were lying on sand, the sun beating heavily down on you. Every inch of your body felt heavy, and a searing pain radiated from where the baton had touched you. Blinking against the sunlight, you pushed yourself up onto your elbows, sand clinging to your palms.
“Mom!” Laura’s voice snapped you out of the haze. She was stumbling toward you, her backpack missing, her hair wild from whatever had just happened. Relief coursed through you when you saw she was unharmed.
“I’m here,” you rasped, your throat dry as dust. You reached for her as she dropped to her knees beside you.
“What the hell just happened?” she asked, her voice trembling with anger. “Where are we? Where did they send us?”
You looked around, trying to get your bearings. The landscape was barren, a wasteland of jagged rocks, broken remnants of buildings, and endless dunes of sand stretching into the horizon. The sky above was gray and swirling, like the calm before a storm. In the distance, you could make out twisted shapes—structures or machines—but nothing alive.
“Not sure,” you said, pulling Laura closer for a moment, “but it’s not home.”
Laura’s claws slid out instinctively as she scanned the area. “This place… it feels wrong.”
“Yeah, no kidding.” You pushed yourself to your feet, testing your weight against the burning ache in your muscles. You checked your back for your dagger, but it was gone. “First thing’s first: we need to figure out where we are, what those bastards did to us, and how to get out.”
Laura nodded, her fists tightening. “If they hurt you, I’ll kill them.”
You smirked despite everything. “You’d better get in line, kiddo.”
Before either of you could say more, the faint hum of engines reached your ears. You turned sharply, squinting against the haze, and saw figures approaching in the distance.
“Shit,” you muttered, pulling Laura behind you as the shapes grew clearer. There were three vehicles—ramshackle but armored—kicking up dust as they sped toward you. They screeched to a halt a few yards away, and several people jumped out, armed to the teeth.
“Don’t move,” one of them barked, pointing a rifle at you. He was tall, bald, and scarred, his pale eyes scanning you with a mix of suspicion and recognition.
Laura growled, her claws sliding out.
“Easy,” you murmured to her, raising your hands slightly. “We don’t want to start a fight we can’t finish.”
“Y/N Howlett,” a woman’s voice said from behind the group. She stepped forward, her piercing gaze cutting through you. Her presence was commanding, and her bald head and strange demeanor set her apart from the rest. “And Laura Keen. Interesting. We’ve been expecting you.”
You narrowed your eyes. “That’s not creepy at all. Who the hell are you?”
“I’m Cassandra Nova,” the woman replied coolly. “And you’re in the Void. Welcome.”
“Yeah, well, thanks for the warm reception,” you shot back. “Now tell me what you want before I lose my patience.”
Cassandra tilted her head, a small smile playing on her lips. “Fiery. I see why he loved you.”
Your chest tightened. Even though she didn’t say his name, the context was clear enough. “Don’t.”
“Oh, but I will,” she said, stepping closer. “You’ve lived so many lives, Y/N, and yet, every time, he’s there. Do you even know why?”
“Lady, I don’t have time for your cryptic bullshit.”
“Patience,” Cassandra said, raising a hand. “I don’t need to waste time with questions when I can just take the answers.” Her eyes began to glow faintly as she focused on you.
The sensation hit like a wave—cold, invasive, and sharp, as if someone were clawing through your mind. But as quickly as it started, Cassandra reeled back, her expression twisting in confusion.
“You…” she whispered, narrowing her eyes. “Why can’t I get in? What are you?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” you shot back, forcing yourself to stand tall despite the pounding in your head. “You try that again, and I’ll show you exactly what I am.”
Cassandra’s lips thinned, but before she could respond, Laura lunged forward without warning, her claws flashing as she aimed straight for Cassandra’s throat. But before she could make contact, one of the armored figures moved in, grabbing Laura by the arm and throwing her back. Laura landed with a grunt, but she was back on her feet in seconds, ready to charge again.
“You’re wasting your time,” Cassandra said, her voice cold. “Surrender, or this gets much worse for you both.”
“Not happening,” you shot back, your grip tightening on your dagger.
Before the situation could escalate further, a deafening boom echoed from behind Cassandra’s group. Everyone turned just in time to see a massive fireball hurtling toward them. It slammed into the sand, sending a shockwave through the ground and knocking several of the armored soldiers off their feet.
“What the—” Laura started, but another explosion cut her off, this time from the opposite side.
Two figures appeared over the dune, running at full speed. One was a man engulfed in flames, flying just above the ground, while the other was heavily armed, his face hidden behind a tactical mask. The flaming man shot another fireball at the soldiers, while the masked figure opened fire with a barrage of bullets, cutting down two of the soldiers before they even had a chance to react.
“What the hell is going on?” Laura shouted, glancing at you.
“No idea,” you muttered, watching as the battle unfolded in a blur of fire and gunfire.
The flaming man soared over Cassandra’s head, sending another blast of fire in her direction. She dodged it easily, her eyes narrowing in anger. “Kill them!” she ordered her remaining soldiers, but they were already being overwhelmed.
The masked figure moved with deadly precision, taking down soldiers left and right with well-aimed shots. He was fast—too fast for them to keep up.
The fight was chaotic, but in the middle of it all, Cassandra’s gaze locked onto you again. “This isn’t over,” she said, her voice dripping with venom. Then, without warning, she disappeared in a flash of light, taking the remaining soldiers with her.
You and Laura stood there, breathless and confused, as the battle ended as quickly as it began. The flaming man and the masked figure approached cautiously, their weapons still at the ready.
Laura’s claws were still out, her stance tense. “Who the hell are you?”
The flaming man extinguished the fire surrounding him, revealing a young, blonde man with a cocky smirk. “Name’s Johnny Storm. And I think we just saved your asses.”
The masked figure stepped forward, removing his helmet to reveal the grizzled face of a man you didn’t recognize. “And I’m the Punisher. You’re welcome.”
---
“So, you were all sent here. For ‘not playing nice,’” you said, crossing your arms and scanning the group. Johnny leaned casually against the wall, the cocky smirk never leaving his face. Frank Castle, aka the Punisher, stood nearby, stoic as ever, his arms crossed like a living wall. The new trio—Elektra, Blade, and a man Johnny had called Remy—watched you with varying degrees of suspicion.
Elektra’s eyes narrowed. “That’s putting it lightly,” she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. The twin sais strapped to her thighs gleamed in the low light. “Apparently, stabbing the wrong guy gets you sent here.”
Blade snorted. “Wrong guy was a senator.”
Elektra’s lips curved into a dangerous smile. “He deserved it.”
“Not the point,” Blade muttered, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. He was built like a tank, his presence commanding even in silence.
Remy, with his disheveled brown hair and glowing red eyes, let out a low whistle. “Look like we got new recruits,” he said, his Cajun accent thick. “You gonna play nice, chére, or you gonna cause trouble?”
Laura’s claws slid out with a snikt, her glare cutting through the room. “Try me.”
You stepped in front of her, placing a hand on her arm. “Laura. Not the time.”
Remy held up his hands in mock surrender. “Easy now, petite. Jus’ makin’ conversation.”
Johnny laughed. “Gambit’s harmless—well, unless he’s got cards in his hands.”
“You got a point?” you asked, turning to Johnny, your patience wearing thin. “Or do you just like hearing yourself talk?”
“Both,” Frank said gruffly, finally speaking up. His voice was deep and gravelly, and his expression made it clear he wasn’t in the mood for games. “But Johnny’s right about one thing—we’re all here because the TVA didn’t like what we did. Same with you and the kid.”
You sighed, glancing at Laura. Her fists were still clenched, claws out, but she hadn’t made another move. “Fine. We’re all rebels. What’s the plan?”
Elektra’s smile turned sharp. “Plan? There’s no plan. We survive.”
“Survive what?” Laura asked, her voice laced with skepticism.
Johnny leaned forward, his smirk fading. “The Void ain’t exactly Club Med, sweetheart. There are worse things out there than us.”
“Like what?” you asked.
Blade stepped closer, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “Alioth.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Alioth?”
“A predator,” Blade said simply. “Consumes anything it touches.”
“Big purple smoke monster,” Johnny clarified, his hands miming an explosion. “Real nasty. You see it, you run.”
Laura scoffed. “We don’t run.”
“Then you die,” Frank said bluntly. “We’ve seen it happen.”
Elektra stepped forward, her gaze fixed on you. “This place isn’t just a dumping ground. It’s a death sentence. The TVA sends people here to get rid of them permanently. If you’re smart, you’ll stick with us. We know how to stay off the radar.”
“Why would you help us?” you asked, narrowing your eyes. “You don’t know us.”
Remy grinned. “Maybe we jus’ like company.”
“Or maybe we want to see what you’re made of,” Elektra added, her voice edged with challenge.
Before you could respond, a loud crash echoed from outside the bunker. Everyone froze, their heads snapping toward the door. Johnny’s hand ignited in flames, and Blade unsheathed his sword.
“Alioth?” you asked, your voice low.
“No,” Frank said, moving toward the door. “Too small. But it’s not friendly.”
Laura moved to your side, her claws ready. “Let’s find out.”
Elektra smirked. “I like her.”
Johnny opened the door cautiously, flames crackling in his palm. The rest of you followed, weapons at the ready. The landscape outside was as bleak as ever, the gray sky swirling ominously.
“Over there,” Blade said, pointing to a figure stumbling over the sand. It was humanoid but moved awkwardly, like it wasn’t fully in control of its body.
“TVA tech,” Frank muttered, his grip tightening on his rifle. “Looks like one of their enforcers.”
“Not anymore,” Elektra said, her eyes narrowing. “It’s corrupted.”
The figure turned toward you, its eyes glowing an unnatural green. Its body twitched violently before letting out an unearthly screech. Without warning, it charged.
“Move!” you shouted, grabbing Laura and pulling her back as Johnny hurled a fireball at the creature. The blast knocked it back, but it kept coming, its movements erratic and unnatural.
Blade stepped forward, his sword gleaming. With a swift, calculated strike, he severed the creature’s head. It crumpled to the ground, twitching before going still.
“What the hell was that?” Laura asked, her claws still out.
“TVA cleanup crew,” Frank said, kicking the remains. “Sometimes their tech gets left behind and... mutates.”
“Mutates into what? Zombies?” you asked.
“Close enough,” Johnny said, extinguishing the flames on his hand. “That’s why we don’t go wandering around unless we have to.”
Elektra looked at you and Laura, her expression unreadable. “Still think you can handle this place?”
You met her gaze evenly. “We don’t have a choice.”
---
It had been months since you and Laura entered the void. Frank had died a few days after you and Laura arrived, presumably by Alioth or what they call the ’Deadpool Corps’.
Since Johnny had left a few days ago and hadn’t returned, you and Laura decided to go out and look. There wasn’t any clues or leads until Laura came upon a Honda Odyssey with two men inside it. One in a red suit, tied up with seatbelts, and the other in a yellow suit with the same face as her own father.
She knew it wasn’t him, that he wasn’t their Logan, but it seemed like this was her only lead. She got into bloodied and wrecked car and drove it to base.
---
Wade finally woke up, sitting up on the bed, “where are we?”
“No clue,” Logan held up a whiskey bottle he was drinking from, “but I like it here.”
Rumbling came from outside the place they were in. Wade went to the entrance standing by it’s side when a woman came in and used her sai to knock Wade down.
Behind her a man entered, wearing black sunglasses, and after that was another man, holding a stack of playing cards.
“Okay, look at you… all. You must be the others. Terrific. So just to refresh, you are one- ”
“Elektra.” She said.
“Elektra, yes. Who could forget? And you, I was not expecting to see you here, thought you were… you know, retired.” Wade said in an accent.
“Retarted?”
“Retired.” Wade said again. “I’m already in the void. I’m not trying to get cancelled again.”
Blade, or Eric, pointed his blade at Wade, “I don’t like you.”
“You never did.” Wade turned to the other man, “and who’s this succulent reminder of my own inadequacies? Look at you. You look like the superhero version of Hawkeye.”
“The name’s Remy LeBeau. Le Diable Blanc, but you can call me the Gambit.”
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen Sling Blade hit me again.” Wade asked.
“They call me the Gambit.” Remy said again.
“Do they? Are you sure you didn’t just really, really want them to, but it never quite worked out?”
Remy turned his gaze from Wade to Logan in the back, “you know, we never had a Wolverine up in here. But I can tell you now, it’s just a common courtesy to ask before you drink up all of my liquor.”
“It’s a good think I don’t give a fuck.” Logan shot back. He went to take another drink from the bottle when Remy tossed a playing card, breaking the bottle in half, glass shattering to the floor.
Wade stood up and looked between Remy and Logan, before settling his gaze on the latter, who tossed the top half of the bottle on the ground. “So embarrassing.”
Logan grabbed another bottle from the shelf.
“Well, now that that’s settled, look, we came a long way to find you three.”
“There’s five of us.” Elektra corrected.
“There’s five? Is one of them Magneto? Dear sweet God in heaven, let it be Magneto, because with him- ”
“He’s dead.” Blade cut in.
“Fuck!” Wade yelled, “now Disney gets cheap? It’s like Pinocchio jammed his face in my ass and started lying like crazy.”
“Ooh, you nasty! Mon petit rouge. Laissez les bons temps rouler, huh?” Remy said.
“Not a single word, what do you do exactly?” Wade questioned.
“Charge the playing cards. Make ‘em go boom.”
“Your power is close-up magic, that’s good. We’re not totally fucked at all. So, who brought us here?”
“That would be me.” Laura said, as she walked down the stairs into the room. “Don’t make me regret it.”
“Holy shit. Logan. That’s her. That’s X-23. She’s the one I told you about.”
Laura looked at Logan, younger than the one she met years ago. Part of her wondered if this is how he looked before it all went to shit.
Wade looked to the others, “hey, how did you all get stuck in the void?”
“There was a knock at the door, TVA sent me here.” Blade said.
“Me too.” Elektra added.
“Maybe I was born here. It’s- it’s hard to know for sure.” Remy answered.
“TVA decided our universe was dying. And I never even got a chance to fight for it.” Blade continued.
Laura walked close to the wall, watching Logan continue to drink from the bottle of Jack Daniel’s in his hand.
“People like us don’t go quietly. TVA knows that, so they took us out.” Elektra said.
Wade kissed his gloved fingers and pointed it towards them, “the answer is yes. I’m in.”
“In what?” Blade questioned.
“A team. Me, you, you and me. All of us together. Let’s get the fuck out of this place.”
“Don’t listen to him. He’s a fucking liar!” Logan called out.
“It was an educated wish!” Wade yelled back. Logan scoffed at him as Wade continued, “Look. We’ve been inside Cassandra’s lair. The only way out of the void is through her. She can get us home. She told us.”
“Wait a minute, you’ve been inside? And you made it out alive?” Blade asked.
“Bullshit.” Elektra commented, “nobody’s ever done that.”
“We did.” Wade answered.
“Every time one of us has gone up against her, they die. The Punisher, the Quicksilver, the Daredevil.” Remy started.
“Daredevil, I’m so sorry.” Wade looked at Elektra.
“It’s fine.”
“Okay.”
“Even that sweet, baby angel, Johnny Storm. He up and gone missing like, what, two days ago?” Remy said.
“Ah, that’s so sad. Wherever this Johnny feller is, I’m sure he’s thriving. Look, there’s strength in numbers. All right? Us, plus you guys. We can put Cassandra over our knee and force her to let us out of the void. I know what it means to feel self-doubt.”
“I don’t feel that at all.” Elektra looked over at Blade.
“I’m good.” He said.
“Now, I get your gut like a coke duct tape worm.” Wade continued.
“It’s like you’re in the middle of my soul.” Remy said.
“You guys may not have been able to save your universes, but you can avenge them. It’s what Johnny would have wanted.”
“Wait. You knew Johnny?” Elektra asked.
Before Logan could respond, you walked into the room, passing by Remy. “Yeah, he’s the reason Johnny is fucking dead.”
“Ah, ah. I’ll have you know that Cassandra killed him, not me. He was the one who ran his little mouth.” Wade said, throwing up his hands in mock defense.
You clenched your fists, holding back the frustration that boiled beneath the surface. “You didn’t help, Wade. You egged him on. You could’ve shut up for once.”
Wade waved a dismissive hand, leaning back against the wall. “I mean, that’s debatable. Can’t really shut up when you’re this charming.”
“Charming?” Elektra muttered, her eyes narrowing as she looked between Wade and Logan.
Laura’s gaze flickered between the two of them, tension evident in the way she crossed her arms.
Logan’s eyes hadn’t left yours since the moment you walked into the room. He stared at you, the bottle of Jack still halfway to his lips, forgotten. You didn’t look like you had aged, not that much anyway. It was a jolt to his system, like stepping into a memory. There you were, alive. In this damn place.
You could feel his gaze burning into you, and though you tried to avoid it, there was no denying it now. You had locked eyes with him, this other version of Logan. His brows furrowed slightly, like he was trying to figure you out, but there was something deeper in his eyes—recognition.
“I have to go,” you muttered, stepping back outside.
Laura looked between Wade and Logan before following you. “Mom!” she called, her voice sharp and worried as she jogged to catch up.
You didn’t stop until you were a good distance away from the others, your back turned to her. You exhaled, your hands gripping the railing of an old platform overlooking the desolate landscape of the void. Laura slowed when she reached you, her boots crunching lightly against the gravel.
“Mom,” she said again, softer this time.
You closed your eyes, steadying your breathing. “I’m fine,” you replied, though the quiver in your voice betrayed you.
“No, you’re not.” Laura crossed her arms, watching you carefully. “That wasn’t him. You know that, right?”
You turned to face her, your expression conflicted. “I know it’s not him,” you said firmly, but the words felt hollow. “It’s just… he looks the same. Sounds the same. Even drinks the same damn whiskey.”
Laura studied you for a moment before speaking. “But he’s not the Logan you knew. He’s not Dad.”
The reminder hit you like a punch to the gut. You’d had years to grieve, but seeing another version of him alive and well—so close yet so far removed from the man you loved—had ripped open wounds you thought had healed. You shook your head, trying to push it all away.
“I just need a minute,” you said, turning back to the railing.
Laura hesitated, glancing back toward the hideout. “Do you want me to…?”
“No. Go back inside,” you told her. “I’ll catch up.”
She lingered for a moment, clearly reluctant to leave you alone, but eventually nodded. “Fine. But don’t take too long. Wade’s already planning something stupid, and I don’t trust Blade not to stab him.”
You almost smiled at that, but it didn’t quite reach your lips. “I’ll be there soon.”
Laura gave you one last look before heading back toward the others. You waited until her footsteps faded before letting out a long, shaky breath. You gripped the railing tighter, your knuckles turning white.
---
Night had fallen in the void and Logan found himself outside sitting on a log, in front of a fire with a bottle of alcohol. He wasn’t allowed to think about this other version of you, or his own before Laura walked by him.
“Hey, hey. I’m not lookin’ for company. Get out of here.”
Laura sat down anyways, letting out a small chuckle. “You remind me of him. Angry. Drunk. Mean…”
“Sounds like a great guy—”
“Wasn’t finished.” Laura cut Logan off. “Showed up when it mattered the most. Couldn’t help it.” She watched as Logan sighed, his eyes still on the crackling fire. “You might not know it, but… you’re a good man, Logan.”
He chuckled, “you might not know it, but apparently, I’m the worst Logan.”
“I got to have a life because of you. I got to grow up because of you. A lot of kids did.”
“A lot of kids didn’t grow up because of me. Trust me, kid, I’m no hero.”
Laura looked over at him, her eyes trailing over the yellow suit. “That suit says different.”
“Yeah. Do you like it? Scott used to beg me to wear it. So did Jean, Storm, Beast. Y/N.” His voice cracked on your name, but he continued. “All of them. They wanted me to be part of the team, but I wouldn’t. Told ‘em they all look fucking ridiculous. I mean… I couldn’t have ‘em thinkin’ I wanted to be there. And then one day, while I was off on my own, the humans came… and went mutant hunting.”
“I can guess the rest.” Laura spoke.
“No, no, let me… Let me say it. I… I need to say it. By the time I stumbled home shitfaced from the bar, it was too late. They were dead. Every…” Logan stifled a sob, his bottom lip quivering as he remembered the horror almost perfectly.
Scott and Beast’s bodies were at the front of the mansion, clearly trying to protect everyone else, while you and Storm were near the kids with Jean in front of you.
“This suit’s all I got to remind me of who they were. And what I did.”
Laura didn’t speak, just looked at Logan as he sniffled and took another drink of his whiskey. Finally, she spoke, “we’re headed to Cassandra’s at sunup.”
“Have fun. Not my fight.”
“We won’t pull this off without you.”
Logan briefly glanced at Laura before returning his gaze to the fire. Laura clenched her fists and stood up, beginning to walk away.
“Hey,” Logan called after her. “Whoever you think I am, you got the wrong guy.”
She turned around to face him, “you were always the wrong guy.” Laura said, before returning on her way to base.
Logan watched Laura disappear into the darkness, her parting words echoing in his mind like a bad tune stuck on repeat. “You were always the wrong guy.” The fire crackled as he shifted on the log, the whiskey bottle in his hand feeling heavier than it should. He stared into the flames, his jaw clenched tightly, the weight of her words hitting harder than he wanted to admit.
He wasn’t the right guy. He never had been.
The sound of footsteps crunching against the gravel behind him pulled him from his thoughts. He didn’t look up right away, figuring it was Laura again, coming back to throw another jab. But when the footsteps stopped a few feet away and silence followed, Logan finally glanced over his shoulder.
It wasn’t Laura. It was you.
The firelight danced across your features, casting shadows and illuminating the faint lines of tension around your mouth. Your arms were crossed, and your expression was unreadable, though your eyes betrayed a flicker of hesitation. Logan turned back to the fire, lifting the bottle to his lips.
“What do you want?” His voice was gruff, a practiced barrier meant to push people away.
“I don’t know,” you replied honestly, your tone soft but steady. You hesitated before stepping closer, the gravel crunching beneath your boots. “Maybe to talk. Maybe to figure out why I feel like I already know you.”
Logan snorted, shaking his head. “You don’t know me. And I don’t know you.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared into the flames. “Whatever you’re lookin’ for, you’re not gonna find it here.”
You didn’t move, just stood there, watching him. “Maybe not. But I can’t ignore it—this... whatever this is.” You motioned vaguely between the two of you. “It’s like looking at a ghost.”
Logan exhaled through his nose, a humorless chuckle escaping him. “Funny. That’s what you feel like to me.”
Your brows furrowed at his words, but you stayed quiet, letting the weight of them sink in. After a long moment, you spoke again. “Laura told me about what happened to the others. To… your version of me.”
He tensed, the grip on his bottle tightening. “Don’t,” he warned, his voice low and dangerous. “Don’t talk about her.”
“I’m not trying to pry,” you said, stepping closer. “But I think we’re both avoiding the obvious here. In your world, I’m dead. In mine…” You trailed off, the ache in your chest making it hard to finish. “He’s gone.”
Logan looked up at you then, his sharp gaze meeting yours. For a moment, neither of you said anything. The fire crackled between you, the silence stretching until it felt like the void itself.
“Seems like we’re both ghosts,” Logan finally muttered, looking back at the flames.
“Maybe,” you said softly, sitting down on the edge of a nearby log. “But ghosts usually have unfinished business.”
Logan smirked, though there was no humor in it. “Yeah? What’s yours?”
You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you looked up at the dark, starless sky, your hands resting loosely in your lap. “Trying to make sure Laura survives this hellhole. Trying to get us out of here.”
Logan tilted his head slightly, studying you in the flickering light. “She’s a tough kid. Reminds me of someone I used to know.”
A faint smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “She gets it from her father.”
He didn’t respond, just took another swig of his whiskey. But there was something in the way he looked at you—something unspoken but heavy. You both knew what it was, even if neither of you wanted to say it.
After a moment, you stood, brushing the dust off your hands. “We’re leaving at sunup,” you said. “You should come with us.”
Logan shook his head. “Not my fight.”
You let out a murmured growl, “too fuckin’ stubborn.” You said quietly, crossing your arms over your chest and looking into the crowd of trees nearby.
But he heard it. He finally turned to face you completely, that one word throwing him off. It wasn’t that he hadn’t heard you curse before—he had, in one of your other lives—but it never seemed natural coming from you. Now it did, like it fit in a way it hadn’t before.
Logan’s brows furrowed slightly, but he didn’t comment. Instead, he studied you for a moment longer, as if trying to reconcile the you he remembered with the one standing in front of him.
You didn’t seem to notice his lingering gaze, or maybe you just didn’t care. Your arms stayed crossed, and your jaw was tight as you stared into the trees, the firelight flickering across your face.
“You done sulking, or should I give you some space to mope?” you asked, finally turning to look at him.
“Mope?” Logan echoed, an edge of irritation creeping into his tone.
“Yeah, mope. Sit here and feel sorry for yourself while the rest of us try to figure out how to not die tomorrow.”
“Not my fight,” he repeated, leaning back against the log and taking another swig from his bottle.
You rolled your eyes. “Right. Because it’s easier to sit here and wallow than to do something that might actually matter.”
Logan’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t respond right away. Instead, he stared at you, his sharp gaze trying to pierce through the wall you’d thrown up.
“What’s your deal, anyway?” he asked finally. “Why the hell do you care so much what I do?”
You huffed, shaking your head. “I don’t care what you do. I care what happens to Laura.”
“She’s a tough kid. She’ll figure it out.”
“She shouldn’t have to,” you shot back. “And you know it. You’ve got this thing in you, Logan—this need to protect people, even if it’s buried under all the whiskey and self-loathing. You’re just too damn stubborn to admit it.”
Logan snorted, the sound low and humorless. “Yeah? And what makes you such an expert on me, huh? You don’t even know me.”
You blinked, and he wasn’t able to tell if it was you holding back tears or clearing your face of your emotions.
“Why won’t you look at me?” you asked quietly. “You look at me like you don’t know me, but you do. I might not be her, or any of the ones you’ve met, but… I’m still me. And you’re still you. Still Logan. You just—”
Your voice broke, but you stopped yourself from letting it out. Crying wasn’t something you did, not anymore. You held your head high, jaw tight, and swallowed down the lump that threatened to rise in your throat. But Logan didn’t look up.
He kept his gaze firmly on the fire, his knuckles white around the bottle in his hand. His silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating, until you finally gave up. Without another word, you turned on your heel and walked back toward the base. Your footsteps echoed in the quiet void, but you didn’t look back. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing how much this hurt you.
Logan didn’t move, didn’t call after you. The only sound left was the crackling of the fire and the distant whisper of the wind in the trees. He stared into the flames as if they held answers he couldn’t find, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached.
When he finally spoke, it was to himself. “I can’t do this again.”
The words were barely audible, but they carried the weight of lifetimes. He took another drink, letting the burn of the whiskey distract him from the ache in his chest. But no matter how hard he tried to drown it, your voice still lingered, cutting through the alcohol like a knife.
“Why won’t you look at me?”
Because looking at you hurt. Because every time he did, he saw her—his version of you. The one he’d failed. The one he couldn’t save.
And maybe, if he admitted it to himself, because he was scared. Scared of letting you in. Scared of losing you all over again.
---
When you got back to the base, Laura was leaning against the wall, sharpening one of her claws with a whetstone. She looked up as you entered, her expression unreadable.
“Did he come around?” she asked, though her tone suggested she already knew the answer.
You shook your head, running a hand through your hair as you sat down heavily on one of the benches. “He’s too stubborn. I should’ve known better.”
Laura snorted. “Stubborn runs in the family.”
You gave her a sharp look, but she just shrugged and went back to her whetstone. The rhythmic scrape of metal on stone filled the silence, but it didn’t do much to calm the storm in your chest.
“He’ll show up,” Laura said after a moment, her tone more subdued. “He always does. Even when he says he won’t.”
“Maybe,” you muttered, leaning forward to rest your elbows on your knees. “But it’s not my Logan.”
Laura paused, her hand stilling for a moment before she looked up at you. “He’s still Logan,” she said quietly. “And you’re still you.”
You didn’t respond. What could you say to that? She wasn’t wrong, but it didn’t make it any easier.
---
Logan stayed by the fire long after it had started to die out, the whiskey bottle empty at his feet. He should’ve gone back to the base, but the thought of facing you again felt like too much.
The truth was, he wasn’t sure he could do it. Not after everything he’d already lost. Not after what had happened to his world, to his team, to you.
But as the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon, he found himself standing, brushing the ash from his hands.
Maybe Laura was right. Maybe he was too damn stubborn for his own good.
But if there was even a chance he could make this right, if there was even a sliver of hope that he could protect you—this version of you—then maybe, just maybe, it was worth the risk.
---
“Ooh! Look at that there!” Remy exclaimed, looking ahead at Cassandra’s base. You see them biggum hands come closed. Ain’t not a wonna gettin’ up inside there.”
“I think what Gambit’s trying to say is getting Juggernaut’s helmet ain’t gonna be easy. I’m just making stuff up at this… yeah. Tilt up to Blade.” Wade trailed off.
“Gun!” Blade called out, as he stood up in the car through the opening in the roof. You lifted the gun up to Blade, who took it and aimed at the base.
“Where’d he get that little beauty?” Wade asked.
“That’s Punisher’s AT4.” Elektra answered.
“Which Punisher? There’s been, like, five of them.”
“There’s only been one Blade, and there’s only ever gonna be one Blade.” He spoke, before shooting the gun. It hit the closed hands of the Ant-Man suit causing Elektra to speed up, driving through the fire from the explosion before turning the car to a halt.
Cassandra’s minions aimed their weapons at the group as you all exited the van. You and Laura stood in the back with Wade and Remy in the front, and Blade and Elektra to the sides. Wade looked up into the head of the enlarged suit to see Cassandra.
The Odyssey’s trunk opening caught everyone’s attention. Turning to look, you saw Logan exiting the van. His eyes instantly met yours before briefly glancing at Laura. He moved to the front beside Wade.
“Ooh, this is gonna be good.” Blade commented.
“You know how long I’ve been waitin’ for this? Whoo! I’m about to make a name for myself here.” Remy spoke.
“I don’t think you guys walk away from this.” Logan commented.
“You just make sure people know what happened here today. And when you get out of here, you have a drink for me, yeah?” Remy finished.
“You just stay on our six and get inside.” Blad ordered, moving to the front. You, Laura, and Elektra moved with him, standing in front of Wade and Logan. “We’ll make sure you get the package.”
“And we’ll get our ending.” Elektra said.
You pulled out your batons, powering them on as they shone blue, the faint hum of their charge filling the air. Laura slid on her sunglasses, her claws extending with a metallic snikt. Everyone was ready—Blade with his katana, Elektra twirling her sais, and Remy flicking a charged card between his fingers.
Cassandra’s minions surged forward, a chaotic wave of bodies armed with guns, knives, and makeshift weapons. You took a deep breath and moved in sync with Laura and Elektra, forming the front line of the attack.
Logan hung back with Wade, his eyes narrowing as he watched you dart forward, your movements swift and precise. It was like a dance—graceful, brutal, and deliberate. Each swing of your baton hit its mark, dropping Cassandra’s soldiers with calculated efficiency. He couldn’t reconcile this version of you with the shy physics teacher he’d known. This wasn’t the you he remembered, who’d tucked herself away in a world of equations and theories. This version fought with a cold, detached precision that sent a shiver down his spine.
“You seeing this?” Wade said, nudging Logan as he ducked a stray bullet. “Your girl’s got moves.”
Logan grunted, not taking his eyes off you. “She’s not my Y/N.”
“Right, right, multiverse shenanigans. Still, if I were you, I’d feel a little insecure. That physics degree sure didn’t teach her how to do that.” Wade gestured wildly as you flipped over one of Cassandra’s soldiers, your baton cracking down on his skull mid-air.
Logan ignored him and started up the steps toward the lair, his claws unsheathed. “C’mon, we’ve got a job to do.”
“Ugh, fine. Leave the fun to the professionals,” Wade muttered, following Logan while tossing a grenade over his shoulder. It exploded behind him, sending a group of minions flying.
Meanwhile, you spun around, parrying a blade aimed at Laura before kicking its wielder into Elektra’s path. “We’ve got this!” you shouted. “Go!”
Laura glanced at you, her lip curling into a snarl as she slashed through another attacker. “Make sure they don’t screw it up.”
You smirked. “Like I’d let them.”
Logan heard you, but he didn’t turn back. He didn’t want to. Seeing you fight like this, kill like this, wasn’t something he could reconcile. In his world, you wouldn’t have hurt a fly, let alone taken a life. And yet, here you were, effortlessly carving through Cassandra’s forces like you’d been doing it your whole life.
“Seriously,” Wade panted as they reached the top of the stairs, “how are you not having, like, a major existential crisis right now? I mean, you’re watching your not-wife turn into a murder machine. That’s gotta mess with your head.”
“Shut up, Wade,” Logan growled.
Meanwhile, the five of you stood in front of the stairs, bloodied and battle-worn. Blade smirked, flicking blood from his sword with a casual shake of his wrist. “Heh. Some motherfuckers still trying to ice skate uphill.”
There wasn’t time for banter. Cassandra’s remaining minions surged toward you like a swarm. You darted forward, Laura beside you, the two of you moving as a deadly unit.
“On your left!” you shouted, swinging your baton in a sharp arc to deflect a blade aimed at Laura’s ribs.
“Got it,” Laura replied, ducking low and slashing through the attacker’s legs before finishing with a swift upward strike.
The chaos of battle roared around you, but your focus locked on the figure in the center. He was barreling through the fray, tossing bodies like rag dolls.
“Mom, we take him together,” Laura called, already moving toward him.
You nodded, gripping your batons tightly. “Go high; I’ll go low!”
As you charged, Juggernaut swung his massive fists toward you. You ducked under one blow, the force of it creating a shockwave that rattled your teeth. Laura leaped over the other, her claws slashing across his arm. Sparks flew as her adamantium claws met his reinforced suit.
“Damn it,” Laura growled, flipping back to avoid his retaliatory strike.
“Helmet,” you reminded her, dodging another swing.
“Working on it!” she snapped, lunging forward again.
You feinted left, drawing his attention, while Laura climbed his back like a feral animal, her claws digging into the material. Juggernaut roared in frustration, reaching back to grab her, but you jabbed your baton into the back of his knee, sending him stumbling forward.
“Keep him down!” Laura shouted, her claws ripping through the side of his helmet.
“Trying!” you yelled, slamming your baton into his other knee. The impact sent a jolt through your arm, but it was enough to drop him to one knee.
Laura didn’t hesitate. She yanked his helmet free and flung it toward you. “Catch!”
You grabbed it mid-air and shoved it into Laura’s backpack. “Got it!”
Juggernaut let out a guttural roar, swinging wildly in an attempt to regain control. Before he could stand, Laura’s claws flashed, slicing clean through his neck. His head toppled to the ground with a sickening thud, and his massive body collapsed seconds later.
“Nice work,” you panted, wiping sweat from your brow.
“Don’t get cocky,” Laura replied, but there was a hint of a smirk on her face.
The two of you turned your attention to the giant Ant-Man helmet, Cassandra’s lair. Laura adjusted the backpack on her shoulders you handed her and glanced at you. “Boost me.”
You crouched, lacing your fingers together. Laura stepped into your hands, and you launched her upward. She caught onto the edge of the massive helmet, her foot claws extending as she began scaling the structure.
“Almost there,” she called down.
You stayed on guard, fending off any straggling minions who dared approach. Laura reached the top, pulling the backpack from her shoulder and tossed it into the lair where Wade grabbed it.
“Catch that?” she asked.
“Perfect throw,” you replied, knocking out a soldier with a swift elbow strike.
Before Laura could climb down, one of Cassandra’s soldiers used a psychic lasso, yanking her down. She fell, twisting mid-air to land on her feet, but more minions rushed toward her.
“Laura!” you shouted, moving to intercept them.
“I’m fine!” she snapped, slashing through one of the attackers. “Just keep them off me!”
The group fought with renewed vigor as the minions closed in. Elektra moved like a blur, her sais spinning with lethal precision. Blade fought alongside her, his katana carving through the enemy ranks. Remy flicked charged cards into clusters of soldiers, the explosions creating openings for you and Laura to strike.
The battle reached its peak when a low, rumbling growl filled the air. You looked up to see a massive dark cloud—Alioth. It loomed closer, its ominous presence sending chills down your spine.
“All clear!” Blade shouted as the last of Cassandra’s minions fell.
You exchanged a glance with Laura, both of you breathing heavily. “Let’s move!”
The air shimmered as a glowing portal opened above you. You watched as Wade and Logan jumped through it, disappearing into the unknown.
You felt a pang of something—loss, maybe?—as you saw Logan vanish, but you pushed it aside. There was no time to dwell on it.
Especially when not even moments later, orange doors appeared in front of you.
---
“So, how does it feel to be in the past, Sparky?” Wade asked you, putting an arm over your shoulder.
You promptly shoved it off, “don’t call me that, suka.”
Wade let out a dramatic gasp, clutching his chest like you’d just stabbed him. “Ouch, that hurt, Sparky. Right in the feelings.”
You gave him a look. “Try again, Wilson.”
“Fine, fine.” He sighed, adjusting Dogpool in his arms. The little thing was fast asleep, drooling all over Wade’s sleeve. “But you gotta admit, it fits. You know, because of the—” He made an exaggerated exploding motion with his fingers.
Laura rolled her eyes. “Can we just go? I’d rather not stand in the middle of a parking lot looking like a rejected Suicide Squad lineup.”
“I don’t know, I think we make it work,” Wade said, waving a hand between the three of you. “Got the grumpy old man, the feral murder daughter, and the ex—” He stopped himself, side-eyeing you before clearing his throat. “—the badass chick with secrets. Feels like a sitcom waiting to happen.”
Logan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just get us where we need to go, Wilson.”
“Alright, alright. Welcome to Casa de Deadpool—where the beer is warm, the floors are sticky, and the roommates are blind. Follow me.”
Wade led the way, humming some off-key tune while you, Logan, and Laura followed. You glanced at Logan. His face was unreadable, but you could see the tension in his shoulders. He hadn’t said much since the fight, and you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.
He wasn’t your Logan. You weren’t his Y/N. But still… it was hard not to see the familiarity in his face, the way his brow furrowed just so, the way his jaw clenched when he was thinking too hard about something.
You looked away. No point in getting caught up in what-ifs.
“Alright, home sweet home!” Wade announced, throwing the door open.
The inside was… exactly what you expected. Empty pizza boxes, half-drunk bottles of something questionable, and the faint smell of something that had probably died under the couch.
Blind Al sat in her usual spot, her head tilting slightly in your direction. “Oh great, more people. Just what I needed.”
“Oh, don’t be rude, Al,” Wade scolded. “These are my very special guests. We’ve got Grumpy Claws, Murder Jr., and Timey-Wimey.”
“I’m not calling them that.”
“You don’t have to, but the audience will.”
Al sighed, clearly used to Wade’s antics. “Are they staying?”
“Just for a bit,” Wade said, tossing Dogpool onto the couch, where he immediately curled up. “Logan here needs a drink, and I’m guessing these two need a place to not be hunted by crazy bald ladies in giant Ant-Man skeletons.”
Al’s head tilted toward Logan. “You drinking my whiskey?”
“...Maybe.”
“Then you can sleep outside.”
Laura smirked, and you huffed a quiet laugh. Logan just shook his head, muttering something under his breath.
You leaned against the back of the couch, arms crossed. “So what now?”
Wade clapped his hands together. “Now? We celebrate. We drink. We unwind from our very successful murder spree. And then, bright and early tomorrow—” He paused, leaning in like he was about to share some big, dramatic secret. “—we figure out what the fuck to do with you guys.”
“I’ll tell you what’s gonna happen. I have some money stashed somewhere, I’ll go get it, come back, then me and Laura can leave so we never have to see your faces again.” You said.
Wade let out a loud, exaggerated gasp. “Leave? Leave? Y/N, honey, sweetheart, my beloved time-traveling murder mom—why would you ever want to leave me?” He clutched his chest like you’d just driven a knife into his heart.
Laura crossed her arms. “I can think of about twenty reasons.”
“Okay, rude.” Wade pouted, shifting Dogpool in his arms. The little thing let out a content sigh, completely unbothered by the chaos. “But seriously, you’re gonna take off just like that? No heart-to-heart? No teary-eyed goodbye? No passionate ‘will-they-won’t-they’ moment with Grumpy Claws over there?”
You rolled your eyes. “Not interested.”
“Are you sure?” He wiggled his eyebrows, then pointed at Logan, who had yet to say a word. “Because that face screams tension.”
Logan let out a long breath through his nose, like he was physically restraining himself from punching Wade in the throat. “I’m not dealin’ with this shit right now.”
Wade gave him finger guns. “That’s a tomorrow problem, huh, bud?”
Logan ignored him. Instead, he looked at you. “This money you’re talkin’ about—where is it?”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t trust you to go off alone, get it, and come back in one piece.”
Laura scoffed. “She can handle herself.”
“I don’t doubt that,” Logan said, looking at her before turning his attention back to you. “But I ain’t gonna let you run off and get yourself killed when we just finished dealin’ with enough shit.”
You stared at him for a long moment. The way he was looking at you—it was careful, measured, like he was trying to keep himself in check. You knew that look. Your Logan used to look at you the same way. Like he was always preparing himself to lose you.
But this Logan wasn’t yours. And you weren’t his.
Still, you looked away first. “It’s in a lockbox at a storage facility a few miles from here.”
“Great,” Wade said, clapping his hands together. “Field trip!”
“No.” You turned to Logan. “I’ll go. Alone.”
“Not happenin’.”
“Logan—”
“No.” His voice was firm, final. “I’ll go with you.”
You exhaled through your nose. “Fine. Just let me freshen up.” You walked off to where you hoped the bathroom was, but not before mouthing, “parar” to Laura.
You locked the bathroom door behind you, glancing around the small, cluttered space. Wade’s idea of ‘freshening up’ probably involved nothing more than spraying deodorant over questionable hygiene decisions, but you had other plans.
Stepping up to the sink, you turned the faucet on, letting the water run just to make it sound like you were actually doing something in here. Then, moving quickly, you flipped the lock on the window and shoved it open. The cool night air hit your face as you glanced outside—an alley, empty except for a couple of overturned trash cans.
Perfect.
You hoisted yourself up, slipping through with practiced ease before lowering yourself down onto the pavement below. The moment your feet hit the ground, you took off down the alley, keeping to the shadows.
Back inside, Laura leaned against the wall near Wade’s stained couch, arms crossed as she watched Logan shift impatiently.
“She takin’ a damn shower in there?” Logan grumbled, arms crossed over his chest.
“She said she was freshening up,” Laura replied casually, not looking up from the knife she was idly flipping between her fingers.
Logan huffed. “It’s been long enough. I’m gettin’ her.”
Laura didn’t move as he pushed off the wall and headed for the bathroom. The moment he reached for the doorknob, she spoke.
“You should wait,” she said.
Logan shot her a look over his shoulder. “Why?”
Laura finally looked up, her expression unreadable. “Just ‘cause.”
That made Logan pause. His eyes narrowed slightly as he glanced between her and the closed bathroom door. Something wasn’t adding up.
“Kid,” he said, his voice low and edged with suspicion, “where’d she really go?”
Laura met his gaze evenly. “She’ll be back.”
Logan’s jaw tightened. “Damn it.” He turned, pushing the bathroom door open with enough force to slam it against the wall. The running faucet mocked him, the open window sealing the truth of it.
“She ditched us,” he muttered, running a hand down his face.
Wade peered in behind him. “Oof. Classic Sparky move. You love to see it.”
Logan turned on his heel, his glare cutting through Wade like a knife. “Where’d she go?”
Wade shrugged dramatically. “Beats me. But if I had to guess? Probably somewhere far away from your grumpy ass.”
Logan growled, storming back into the room. “Damn stubborn—” He turned to Laura. “You knew.”
She didn’t flinch under his stare. “Yeah.”
His fists clenched, frustration mounting. “And you let her go?”
“She can handle herself,” Laura said simply.
“That ain’t the point,” Logan snapped.
“Then what is?”
Logan opened his mouth, then shut it. What was the point? That he didn’t want her runnin’ off alone? That the thought of her out there, possibly in danger, made his gut twist?
“She’ll be fine,” Laura said again. “She’ll be back before you know it.”
Logan shot her a sharp look. “And you knew she was gonna pull this shit?”
Laura didn’t even flinch. “Yeah.”
Logan exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “Damn stubborn woman.”
Wade, now comfortably sprawled on the couch, feet kicked up on the armrest, wiggled his fingers dramatically. “Aw, look at you, all worked up. It’s almost like you care.”
Logan glared at him. “Shut the hell up.”
Wade gasped, hand over his heart. “Ouch! That’s no way to talk to your bestest buddy in the whole world. You know, if you keep scowling like that, you’re gonna get wrinkles.”
Logan ignored him, turning back to Laura. “Where’d she go?”
Laura shrugged. “She didn’t say.”
“Bullshit,” Logan growled. “She told you something.”
Laura arched a brow. “Even if mom did, why would I tell you?”
Logan stepped forward, voice dropping low. “Because she’s out there alone, and I don’t trust her not to get herself into trouble.”
Laura tilted her head. “Sounds like a you problem.”
Logan clenched his teeth, nostrils flaring. “Damn kid’s just as bad as she is.”
“I take that as a compliment.”
Wade, now peeling an old banana he found on the coffee table, piped up. “Look, let’s be real here—Sparky probably ditched us so she could do some shady, assassin-y, Black Widow type shit. Maybe she’s robbing a bank! Maybe she’s breaking into a top-secret government facility! Maybe she’s meeting a mysterious lover who—”
Logan shot him a look that could’ve melted steel.
“Or,” Wade continued, grinning, “maybe she’s just getting her money so she can take Little Miss Stabby Hands here and leave your grumpy ass behind.”
Logan’s jaw tightened.
Wade snapped his fingers. “Ohhh, there it is. That realization. That little pang in your chest. That Oh no, I don’t want her to leave feeling.”
Logan ignored him. “She said somethin’ about a storage facility,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. “A few miles from here.”
Laura sighed. “And now you’re gonna go after her?”
“Damn right, I am.”
“She doesn’t want you to.”
“I don’t give a shit.”
Laura watched him for a moment, then shrugged. “Fine. But don’t get all dramatic when she punches you for following her.”
Wade sat up, tossing his banana peel over his shoulder. “Ooooh, I gotta see this. Road trip!”
Logan grabbed his jacket off the chair, shooting Wade a glare. “You’re stayin’ here.”
Wade pouted. “Rude.”
Laura smirked. “Good luck.”
Logan muttered something under his breath and stormed toward the door, already regretting whatever the hell he was about to do.
---
You hadn’t been at this storage facility in almost 2 decades, from before you joined the x-men. It was a standard procedure, you left large amounts of cash, fake id’s, and weapons hidden in almost every major city.
The lock clicked open with a soft beep, and you tossed it onto the floor, pushing the storage unit door up. The metal groaned as it rolled upward, revealing the small space packed neatly with everything you’d left behind years ago—cash, fake IDs, weapons, emergency supplies. It was all still there, untouched.
You exhaled through your nose. Good. This would be enough to get you and Laura far away from New York.
You crouched down, lifting a duffel bag from the pile, zipping it open. Stacks of cash, bundled and secure, sat inside. Grabbing a few more rolls, you stuffed them in before reaching for one of the smaller, locked cases in the back. Inside were passports, IDs, credit cards—everything you’d need to disappear.
Your fingers brushed over one of the old IDs. It was worn from time but still legible. A name you hadn’t used in years. A version of yourself that no longer existed.
“Never thought I’d see you here.”
The voice sent a jolt up your spine. You knew it before you even turned around.
Logan.
You let out a slow breath before standing, keeping your expression neutral as you turned to face him. He stood at the entrance, arms crossed, his gaze flickering between you and the duffel bag.
“Took you long enough,” you muttered, zipping the bag closed.
He stepped inside, boots heavy against the concrete. “Could say the same about you,” he replied. “Sneaking out like that. Real subtle.”
You slung the bag over your shoulder. “Wasn’t trying to be subtle. Just effective.”
Logan scoffed. “Right. And this little errand of yours—it’s just about gettin’ cash?”
“That’s exactly what it is.” You met his eyes, unwavering. “I came here to get what I need. Then I’m leaving.”
His jaw tightened. “And by ‘leaving,’ you mean what? Takin’ off across the country? Across the world?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yeah,” he said sharply. “It does.”
You clenched your jaw, adjusting the bag strap. “Not to you.”
Logan’s brows furrowed, a flicker of something in his eyes—frustration, maybe something else. “You really think I don’t give a shit?”
You exhaled, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Logan—”
“No, you listen,” he cut in, stepping closer. “You don’t wanna stick around, fine. You wanna take off with the kid, start fresh? I get it. But you don’t get to act like I don’t care.”
You looked away, pressing your lips together.
“I know I ain’t him,” Logan continued, voice lower now. “And you ain’t her. But that doesn’t mean I’m just gonna let you walk away without sayin’ a damn word.”
A lump formed in your throat, but you swallowed it down. “Fine.” You walked out of the unit and picked up the lock you’d tossed to the floor. You threw it toward Logan, not bothering to hide the annoyance in your voice. “Mind lockin’ up for me? Thanks.”
Without waiting for a response, you turned on your heel and headed down the narrow hallway, duffel bag weighing on your shoulder. You knew he’d follow. Hell, part of you expected it. Still, you kept your pace brisk, eyes forward, determined not to let him see the mess of emotions churning behind your calm façade.
Sure enough, you heard his footsteps closing in on you just a few seconds later. “Hey,” he called, his tone halfway between annoyed and concerned, “hold up.”
You didn’t stop. “I don’t recall askin’ for backup, Logan.”
“Yeah, well,” he said, voice low, “I didn’t ask for your permission.”
Rolling your eyes, you quickened your stride. “This is none of your business. I just need what’s in that storage unit. Then I’m done.”
“Done with what?” He stayed right on your heels. “You keep sayin’ you’re leaving, but leaving for where?”
“Somewhere that isn’t here,” you shot back, pushing open the heavy exit door. The chill of the evening air hit you like a slap, but you welcomed it. At least it was better than the stale, fluorescent-lit corridor.
Logan grabbed the door before it slammed shut, following you outside. “And what about Laura?”
“What about her?” You spun around to face him, jaw tight. “She’s comin’ with me. That’s it. We’ve both been through enough.”
“Enough of what, exactly?” His gaze flicked to the duffel bag. “You got money, IDs, weapons in there? Where’re you even plannin’ on goin’?”
You tightened your grip on the strap, resisting the urge to throw a punch at the damn question. “Somewhere quiet. A place we can actually live. Maybe not a perfect life, but a life that’s ours, away from… all of this. Away from Wade and the insanity he brings. Away from you.”
Logan’s expression clouded, though he tried to mask it behind a scowl. “Could just as easily do that in New York. Wade might be a pain in the ass, but he’s not forcing you to stay.”
You huffed a humorless laugh. “Because it’s so easy, right? Laura and I just hole up in some apartment, pretend everything’s normal when half the city’s got vigilantes flyin’ around? When there are still people lookin’ for us—always will be?” You shook your head, glancing at the ground. “No. We’re done with that.”
He took a step closer, voice lowering. “So that’s it. You’re gonna vanish and start over. Another new name, new ID, new everything.”
You shrugged, trying to ignore the flutter of guilt. “Worked before. It’ll work again.”
For a second, you both fell silent. A car drove by in the distance, headlights flashing across the storage facility’s cracked walls. You squared your shoulders, forcing yourself not to look at him. The way he studied your face was too familiar, too painful.
Finally, Logan cleared his throat. “I know I’m not him.” His tone had lost some of its edge. “I’m not your Logan, and you’re not… mine. But that doesn’t mean I’m about to stand here and watch you self-destruct.”
Your breath caught, heart pounding in your chest. “Self-destruct?” you echoed, voice trembling with anger. “That’s rich, comin’ from the guy who’s been drinking himself into oblivion every night since I laid eyes on him.”
He clenched his jaw, but he didn’t deny it. “I’m not sayin’ I got my shit together. I’m sayin’ you don’t have to do this alone.”
“How ‘bout you cut the crap,” you fired back. “We don’t know each other. We’re strangers. I’ve known you for, what, two days? I’m doing what’s best for my daughter. And if that includes taking her out of this state, then that’s what I’m gonna do.”
Logan’s expression darkened, his patience fraying at the edges. “You really think you can just pack up and disappear?”
You tightened your grip on the duffel bag, your stance unwavering. “Worked before.”
“That’s not an answer.” He stepped closer, his voice low, edged with frustration. “You’re actin’ like I’m some kinda obstacle. Like I’m one more thing you gotta shake off before you can breathe easy.”
You huffed a humorless laugh. “That’s exactly what you are.”
Logan’s jaw tightened, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “Bullshit.”
You rolled your eyes and turned to leave, but his voice stopped you cold.
“You’re runnin’,” he said.
You exhaled sharply, spinning back around. “I am not running.”
“Feels like you are.”
“No, Logan, you don’t get it.” Your voice sharpened, cutting through the tension like a blade. “This isn’t about you. This isn’t about Wade. This is about Laura. About what we need.”
Logan’s eyes flickered with something unreadable. “And what? You think ditchin’ the only people who’ve got your back is the answer?”
“I think getting away from this life—your life—is the answer.”
Something shifted in his expression, something bitter and tired. “So that’s it? You wanna go play house somewhere, pretend none of this ever happened?”
You squared your shoulders, forcing yourself not to flinch at the weight of his words. “No one’s pretending anything. I just don’t want to look over my shoulder every damn day.”
Logan scoffed, shaking his head. “Yeah? And what happens when the past catches up to you? Because it always does.”
You stepped forward, closing the space between you. “Then I’ll deal with it. But I’m done doing it your way.”
For a moment, neither of you spoke. The night air pressed in, thick with everything left unsaid. Logan’s gaze burned into you, searching, waiting. But you didn’t give him the answer he wanted.
He exhaled, looking away. “You’re makin’ a mistake.”
“Maybe,” you admitted. “But it’s mine to make.”
Logan clenched his jaw, nostrils flaring. You half expected him to argue, to push, to demand something from you. But instead, he just nodded, stepping aside.
“Fine,” he said, voice gruff. “Do what you gotta do.”
You didn’t linger. Didn’t give yourself time to second-guess. You adjusted the strap on your shoulder and walked past him without another word.
As you disappeared into the night, Logan stayed where he was, fists clenched, jaw tight. Watching.
Letting you go.
---
The car you bought from a used-car dealership was silent, other than the radio softly playing pop music that Laura liked as she stared out the window, her sunglasses over her eyes.
You had just exited the New York City traffic and were heading south—but other than that, you didn’t know where you were going. Maybe you would stop somewhere in Pennsylvania, or West Virgina if you were lucky.
Laura tapped her fingers against her knee in rhythm with the song playing on the radio, her sunglasses perched on her nose as she stared out the window. The highway stretched ahead, empty except for a few distant cars.
"You know where we're stopping?" she asked, her tone casual, but there was an undercurrent of curiosity.
You kept your hands on the wheel, eyes scanning the road ahead. "Not yet. Somewhere quiet, somewhere we can lay low for a bit."
Laura tilted her head slightly, still watching the trees blur past. "So, nowhere specific."
"Nowhere specific," you confirmed.
She nodded, letting a few moments pass before speaking again. "You think he's following us?"
You exhaled through your nose, gripping the wheel a little tighter. "Probably."
Laura hummed. "You gonna punch him if he shows up?"
You smirked. "Maybe."
Laura smirked back, adjusting her sunglasses. "Can I watch?"
"If he pushes his luck, I'll make sure you get front-row seats."
Silence settled between you, only broken by the soft hum of the music and the occasional sound of the tires on the road.
Then, Laura spoke again, her voice quieter. "You sure about this?"
You glanced at her briefly before turning back to the road. "What do you mean?"
She shrugged. "Just… we’ve been running for a long time. Feels like that’s all we ever do. What happens when we stop?"
Your fingers flexed on the wheel. "Then we figure it out."
Laura nodded slowly, like she was mulling it over. Then, after a beat, she said, "We’re out of snacks."
You snorted. "I’ll stop at the next gas station."
"Good." She leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms. "But if he shows up, I’m picking the next destination."
"Deal," you said.
Neither of you said it out loud, but you both knew Logan would catch up eventually. The only question was when.
---
“Whaddya think about Florida?” you asked, swirling your milkshake with the red-and-white striped straw. After two days of driving, you and Laura had landed in Nashville—not exactly planned, but necessary. The money situation was getting tight, and you had a stash here.
Laura sat across from you in the dingy diner booth, picking at the fries on her plate. Her sunglasses were still on, even though the place was dimly lit, the neon “Open 24 Hours” sign flickering against the window beside you.
She shrugged. “Kinda humid, isn’t it?”
You snorted. “That’s your issue with Florida?”
She popped a fry into her mouth. “I don’t like humidity.”
“Well, we’re runnin’ out of options,” you said, taking another sip of your milkshake. “I’d rather not head west, too many people I don’t wanna run into. And the north? I’m done with the cold.”
Laura considered that, chewing thoughtfully. “So, Florida.”
“Yeah.”
She tapped her fingers against the table. “Ever been?”
“A couple times,” you admitted. “But never long enough to get comfortable.”
Laura leaned back, arms crossed. “What’s in Florida?”
You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Hopefully? A quiet place. Some space. Enough cash to keep us moving if we need to.”
Laura was quiet for a beat, then said, “And what if we don’t need to?”
Your hand froze over your cup. You looked up at her, but she wasn’t looking at you—she was staring at her plate, pushing a fry around in the ketchup.
You exhaled, setting your drink down. “Then we don’t.”
Laura didn’t say anything, but she nodded slightly, like she was mulling it over.
You let the silence settle for a moment before reaching into your jacket pocket and pulling out a small envelope. You slid it across the table.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“Fake IDs. A couple different names for you, just in case.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Where’s yours?”
You smirked. “I’ve been doin’ this longer than you, muñeca. Mine are already handled.”
Laura picked up the envelope, flipping through the IDs. Her lips twitched when she landed on one. “Carla?”
You rolled your eyes. “It was short notice.”
Laura shook her head, stuffing the envelope into her pocket. “How much cash do we have left?”
“Enough to get us a motel for the night,” you said. “Then I’ll hit the stash in the morning, and we’ll go from there.”
She tapped her nails against the table. “And if someone’s watching it?”
You took another sip of your milkshake. “Then I deal with it.”
Laura didn’t argue, but she gave you a look.
You raised an eyebrow. “What?”
She tilted her head slightly. “You sure you don’t want him to come after us?”
You froze for half a second before scoffing. “Logan?”
Laura shrugged, popping another fry in her mouth. “I mean, it’d be kinda funny. Watching him all pissed off, trying to track us down.”
You smirked. “I’d give it a day before he gave up and found a bar instead.”
Laura chuckled, shaking her head. “Yeah. Probably.”
The conversation shifted after that—lighter, easier. You finished your food, paid in cash, and headed back to the car.
As you pulled onto the empty road, Laura leaned back against the passenger seat, her feet propped up on the dashboard. “If we go to Florida, I’m picking the first place we stop.”
“Deal.”
The road stretched ahead, dark and open, with nothing but the hum of the engine and the occasional song crackling from the radio.
For now, it was enough.
---
The Florida heat wasn’t as unbearable as you’d expected. It was different from the suffocating summers in New York or the bone-chilling winters in Canada. Here, everything moved slower—the ocean waves rolling onto the sand, the palm trees swaying in the breeze, the distant hum of cicadas at night. For the first time in a long time, you and Laura weren’t running.
The job at the high school had been a last-minute decision, something stable to keep you grounded. It wasn’t hard work—not compared to everything else you’d done in your life. Wrangling teenagers in gym class was nothing compared to dodging bullets or teaching mutant children to use their powers. And Laura? She was doing good. She got her GED, started talking about what she wanted to do next. It was a normal life, or as close as either of you could get to one.
You leaned back in your chair on the porch, the scent of saltwater drifting through the air. Laura was sitting across from you, flipping through a book while picking at the remnants of her dinner.
"You gonna eat that or just mutilate it?" you asked, raising a brow at the half-demolished slice of pizza on her plate.
Laura shrugged, still looking at her book. "Not hungry."
You snorted, reaching over and stealing a piece of crust. "Then quit wasting good food."
She kicked your shin under the table, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to make a point. "I was getting to it."
"Sure you were." You chewed the crust, glancing out at the ocean beyond the dunes. The sky was starting to darken, the sun dipping below the horizon, casting everything in shades of orange and pink.
Laura shut her book with a soft thud. "You think he's still looking for us?"
You didn’t need to ask who she meant. "Probably."
She rested her chin in her hand. "You miss him?"
The question made you pause, your fingers tightening slightly around the crust before you set it down. "I don’t know."
Laura gave you a look. "Liar."
You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. "It’s complicated."
"It always is with you two."
You huffed out a quiet laugh. "And how would you know?"
Laura smirked. "Because you get that look whenever I bring him up."
You frowned. "What look?"
"The one you’re making right now."
You rolled your eyes, leaning back in your chair. "Even if I did miss him—which I don’t—it wouldn’t matter. He’s not the same Logan, and I’m not sticking around to see if he turns into him."
Laura was quiet for a moment before she said, "He still came after us."
"Yeah, and?"
"And that means something."
You shook your head. "It means he’s stubborn."
"Or it means he cares."
You scoffed. "He knew us for two days."
Laura shrugged. "Sometimes that’s enough."
You didn’t have an answer to that. Instead, you picked at the label on your beer bottle, watching the condensation roll down the glass.
After a while, Laura stood up, stretching. "I’m going to bed."
You nodded, not looking up. "Night, muñeca."
She hesitated for a second. "You’d tell me if you wanted to go back, right?"
You finally looked at her, meeting her eyes. "I don’t want to go back."
Laura studied you for a moment before nodding. "Okay."
She disappeared inside, leaving you alone with the sound of the waves and the quiet hum of your thoughts.
You didn’t want to go back.
But that didn’t mean you didn’t expect him to show up.
---
He showed up.
You were walking out of the store, picking up some more food since Laura ate a lot, when you saw him across the street, talking to some guy.
It was clear he hadn’t seen you—if he did, it would’ve been a miracle, spotting you in a parking lot full of suburban moms and their SUV’s. You quickly put the final bag in the trunk and closed it, getting into the driver’s seat, glad that an SUV was blocking the window, and of course that you were wearing a wig.
You scrolled through your phone, quickly looking up plane tickets before purchasing two for Anaheim, California, which left in three hours. It would be a short trip, long enough to take Laura out to Disneyland—somewhere she wanted to go when she was younger, and maybe see the sights before coming back.
With the tickets secured, you tossed your phone onto the passenger seat and gripped the steering wheel, exhaling slowly. You could still see Logan across the street, standing near a bar, talking to some guy you didn’t recognize. His stance was the same as always—broad, solid, like he was ready for a fight even when there wasn’t one. You couldn’t tell if he was actively looking for you or if it was just dumb luck that put him in the same town. Either way, it didn’t matter.
You put the car in drive, pulling out of the parking lot with careful ease. No sudden movements. No panic. You were good at this—disappearing.
By the time you got home, Laura was already sprawled on the couch, flipping through channels with half a bag of chips resting on her stomach. She barely glanced up when you walked in.
"Got food," you said, setting the bags on the counter.
"About time," Laura muttered, grabbing another chip. "I was starting to think you got lost or arrested."
"Very funny," you deadpanned, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. "Pack a bag."
That got her attention. She sat up, eyeing you with suspicion. "For what?"
"California," you answered, twisting the cap off your bottle. "Leaving in a few hours."
Laura blinked. "Wait… what?"
"You heard me," you said, taking a sip. "Disneyland. Quick trip."
She narrowed her eyes. "You saw him, didn’t you?"
You paused mid-drink before lowering the bottle. "Doesn’t matter."
"That’s a yes," she muttered, tossing the remote onto the couch. "You’re seriously dragging me to Disneyland just to avoid him?"
"I’m taking you to Disneyland because I promised," you corrected. "Avoiding him is just a bonus."
Laura folded her arms. "You know he’s gonna find us eventually."
"Probably," you admitted, leaning against the counter. "But not today."
Laura exhaled through her nose, clearly debating whether or not to argue. Finally, she stood up, brushing chip crumbs off her shirt.
"I’m picking the first ride," she said.
You smirked. "Deal."
---
The airport was busy but not unbearable. You and Laura moved through security without issue, your fake IDs holding up just as they always did. It was second nature at this point. The two of you boarded the plane, settling into your seats with practiced ease.
Laura put her headphones in, shutting the world out almost immediately. You, on the other hand, couldn’t quite relax. You had that feeling again—that gnawing sense that you were being watched, even when you knew you weren’t.
Logan would look for you. You knew that much. But you also knew how to stay ahead of him.
For now, at least.
You leaned back in your seat, closing your eyes. Just a few days away. That was all you needed.
Just a few days.
---
“Wade,” Logan growled into the phone. “Your contact was fucking useless. They’re not here.”
There was a pause on the other end before Wade let out an exaggerated gasp. “Oh no! You mean my totally legitimate, not-at-all shady informant lied? Color me shocked.”
Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling through his teeth. “You told me they were still in Florida.”
“Well, yeah, because I thought they were,” Wade replied, his voice way too casual. “Turns out, your little murder mom and stabby daughter are really good at vanishing. Who knew?”
Logan clenched his jaw, his patience wearing dangerously thin. “Did you actually talk to this guy, or did you just pull a name outta your ass and hope for the best?”
“Okay, first of all, rude,” Wade said. “Second of all, I did talk to him. And third of all, I’m beginning to think you have trust issues.”
Logan let out a low growl, glancing around the dimly lit parking lot. He had been following a lead for hours, only to find himself at a dead end. Again. “You got anything else, Wilson, or am I wasting my time?”
“Well, I mean, if you’re asking me—”
“I wasn’t.”
“Fair,” Wade admitted. “But if I had to guess—and I am very good at guessing—I’d say Y/N is doing what she does best.”
“And what’s that?” Logan asked, already annoyed by whatever bullshit answer was coming.
“Running.”
Logan’s grip on the phone tightened. He knew it was true, even before Wade said it. He had seen enough of you to know your patterns, and disappearing was your specialty.
Still, something about it didn’t sit right. You had said goodbye. He just hadn’t wanted you to go.
“So what’s your next move, grumpy pants?” Wade asked.
Logan exhaled sharply, kicking at a loose rock on the pavement. “I don’t know yet.”
“Well, I do,” Wade said. “You stop chasing her like a crazy ex-boyfriend and let her live her life.”
Logan ignored the jab. “They ain’t safe on their own.”
“Oh, please,” Wade scoffed. “Y/N could take both of us in a fight with one hand tied behind her back. And Laura? That kid is a human blender with anger issues. What exactly are you worried about?”
Logan didn’t answer.
Wade sighed dramatically. “Look, I get it. You’ve got feelings—gross. But maybe, just maybe, you should consider that she doesn’t want to be found.”
Logan clenched his jaw, saying nothing.
“Or, you know, keep chasing her,” Wade continued. “Nothing screams ‘healthy relationship’ like stalking.”
Logan ended the call without another word.
He stood there for a moment, jaw tight, before slipping his phone back into his pocket. His eyes scanned the quiet street, but there was nothing. No sign of you.
Not yet, anyway.
---
It was the first time in a while—months—that you saw Laura this happy. Being in the Void had been hard on both of you, but now, as you walked around Disneyland with Mickey Mouse ears perched on your head and a churro in hand, things felt lighter.
Laura, wearing her own pair of ears, pointed toward one of the bigger roller coasters. “That one.”
You raised an eyebrow, taking a bite of your churro. “You sure? You’ve got that look.”
“What look?” she asked, arms crossed.
“The look you get when you won’t admit you’re nervous.”
Laura scoffed, turning toward the ride again. “I’m not nervous.”
You smirked. “Uh-huh.”
“Are we going or not?”
You chewed thoughtfully, glancing up at the towering structure of the coaster. “I dunno. I’m kinda enjoying this churro.”
Laura grabbed your wrist and started dragging you toward the line. “You can eat and walk.”
You laughed, letting her pull you along. “Pushy.”
As the two of you weaved through the crowd, the excitement buzzing in the air was infectious. Kids in princess dresses, parents trying to wrangle toddlers, and groups of friends laughing between bites of overpriced snacks. It was normal.
By the time you reached the front of the line, Laura was practically bouncing on her heels.
“You gonna scream?” you teased, nudging her.
She shot you a look. “No.”
You snorted. “We’ll see.”
The ride operator waved you forward, and you both climbed into the seats, pulling the safety bars down.
As the coaster lurched forward, Laura gripped the handlebar a little tighter.
You smirked. “Told you.”
She didn’t have time to retort before the coaster shot up the first incline. The wind rushed past you, the clanking of the tracks beneath adding to the anticipation. Then, the drop.
Laura let out a yell—not quite a scream, but close enough.
You threw your hands up, laughing. “Told you!”
“Shut up!”
The ride twisted and turned, the loops pulling at your stomach in a way that was both exhilarating and oddly grounding. For those few minutes, there was no running, no fighting—just pure, unfiltered fun.
When the ride finally slowed, Laura’s breathing was slightly heavier, her face flushed from the rush. You grinned at her. “Admit it, that was fun.”
She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.
As you stepped off the ride and made your way back into the park, Laura bumped her shoulder against yours. “Okay, you pick the next one.”
You took another bite of your churro, already eyeing the spinning teacups. “Oh, you’re gonna regret that.”
---
The fireworks exploded in bursts of color, painting the night sky over Disneyland. The crowd around you and Laura watched in awe, gasps and murmurs of excitement filling the air. Laura sat cross-legged on the grass, her arms resting on her knees as she stared up at the display.
"You know," you said, breaking the comfortable silence between you, "when I was your age, I never got to do this kind of thing."
Laura glanced at you, one eyebrow raised. "Watch fireworks?"
"Have a normal night," you corrected. You leaned back on your hands, feeling the cool grass beneath your palms. "Theme parks, vacations, junk food... not exactly things you get when you're trained to kill people before you hit puberty."
Laura hummed in acknowledgment, turning her gaze back to the sky. "Guess we’ve got that in common."
You exhaled through your nose, nodding. "Yeah. But at least we’re here now."
She didn’t say anything for a moment, just let the fireworks crackle above her. Then, almost reluctantly, she said, "It’s weird."
"What is?"
"Not having to fight," she admitted. "Being... normal."
You tilted your head, watching her carefully. "Do you like it?"
Laura shrugged, pulling at a loose thread on her jeans. "Yeah. I think so."
You smiled, though she wasn’t looking at you. "Good."
The fireworks continued, shimmering reflections dancing across Laura’s sunglasses. The two of you sat in easy silence, the kind that didn’t need filling.
Eventually, Laura spoke again, quieter this time. "How did you and dad get together?”
You glanced at Laura, the question catching you off guard. She was still watching the fireworks, her expression neutral, but you knew her well enough to recognize when she was fishing for something.
You took a slow breath, leaning back on your hands. "That’s kind of a long story, kid."
Laura shrugged. "We’ve got time."
You huffed a small laugh, shaking your head. "Yeah, I guess we do."
For a moment, you just watched the bursts of color in the sky, letting the memories settle in before you spoke. "When Ororo first brought me to the mansion I had heard stories of the X-Men—and of the Wolverine. I kinda hated them all at first, how they were able to live an almost normal life even though they were all mutants.”
You shrugged, “took me a while to get used to them—to tolerate them. Took me the longest to get used to Logan though.”
Laura glanced at you, her expression unreadable behind her sunglasses. "Why?"
You let out a short breath, watching the last of the fireworks fade into the sky. “From the second I arrived he was always… there. Not in a ‘grumpy old man’ way like I thought he would be, but he would save me a spot for dinner, did the chores I didn’t want to do that Scott assigned me. Hell, he was the first person to show me Star Wars."
Laura turned her head toward you, adjusting her sunglasses. “Wait. You had never seen Star Wars before?”
You smirked. “Believe it or not, I had other things to do growing up.”
Laura hummed in response. After a moment, she said, “So, was that when you knew?”
“Knew what?”
“That you loved him.”
You hesitated, watching as a little girl in a princess dress skipped past, holding her father’s hand.
“No,” you said finally. “Not then.”
Laura raised an eyebrow. “Then when?”
You thought about that for a second. “I don’t know. I guess all the gestures caught up to me. The way he wasn’t afraid to be around me like some of the others were. It wasn’t until one night when I snapped at him, asking him why he had been doing all this that he confessed.”
Laura shifted slightly, crossing her arms over her knees. "Confessed?"
You huffed a quiet laugh, shaking your head at the memory. "Yeah. It wasn’t some big romantic moment. It was just… him being honest. Told me he wasn’t the type to say things out loud unless they meant something. Said he didn’t expect me to feel the same, but that he wasn’t gonna pretend he didn’t care."
Laura raised an eyebrow. "And?"
"And… I kissed him," you admitted, a small smirk tugging at your lips. "Told him he was an idiot for waiting so long to say it."
Laura scoffed. "Sounds about right."
You tilted your head, glancing at her. "What, you expected some fairytale confession? A love letter? Logan wasn’t that type of guy."
Laura shook her head. "No, I just… I don’t know. It’s weird thinking of him like that. Like, all soft."
"He wasn’t soft," you corrected. "He was still stubborn as hell, still grumpy, still fought me on just about everything. But he never made me doubt how he felt."
Laura was quiet for a moment, looking back up at the sky. "Guess that’s what matters."
"Yeah," you said softly, following her gaze. "It is."
A comfortable silence settled between you as the last of the fireworks fizzled out, leaving nothing but smoke trails and the distant hum of the park.
"So," Laura said after a moment, "if he never said anything that night, do you think you would've?"
You thought about that, your fingers tapping against your knee. "Eventually. But he beat me to it."
Laura nodded, processing that. "Good thing he did."
You smiled slightly. "Yeah. It was."
Another pause. Then, in a quieter voice, Laura asked, "Do you think you'd ever—" She stopped herself, shaking her head.
You turned to her. "What?"
"Nothing."
You studied her for a second before letting it go. Instead, you nudged her shoulder. "C'mon, we've got one last ride before the park closes. You promised I got to pick the next one."
Laura groaned but got to her feet anyway. "If it’s the teacups, I’m never forgiving you."
You grinned, standing up. "Guess you’ll have to find out."
As the two of you made your way through the thinning crowd, Laura side-eyed you. "You know, for someone who says they don’t like talking about the past, you sure didn’t shut up about it."
You shrugged. "Maybe you caught me in a good mood."
Laura smirked. "Or maybe you just like remembering the good parts."
You didn’t respond to that. You didn’t have to.
Because maybe she was right.
---
After coming back from Disneyland the lightness didn’t leave. Maybe because it was the first ‘normal’ thing you two had done in months—maybe ever. Just a mother and daughter enjoying their time together.
The grocery store was quiet for a weekday afternoon—just the usual crowd of retirees, moms wrangling their toddlers, and bored cashiers going through the motions. You moved through the aisles quickly, grabbing the essentials: eggs, bread, milk, and way too many snacks to keep up with Laura’s ridiculous metabolism.
You checked your list, crossing off the last item, before making your way toward the checkout. As you tossed the groceries onto the conveyor belt, you let yourself breathe. Things were steady. Normal.
Laura was getting comfortable, and, for the first time in a long time, so were you.
It wasn’t permanent—you knew that much. But for now, it was enough.
You grabbed a carton of ice cream, but something made you pause. That feeling. The faintest prickle at the back of your neck. The one that always hit when someone was watching you.
Cautiously, you moved closer to a nearby Employees Only doorway, keeping your expression neutral as you reached for a yogurt on the shelf. You adjusted your grip on the container, using the reflective surface of the glass door to scan the store behind you.
There.
A figure standing near the magazine rack, pretending to skim through an issue of Sports Illustrated. Too broad-shouldered to be just any guy, too stiff to be casual. You knew that build. That stance.
Logan.
Your stomach clenched, but you kept your movements easy, natural. It didn’t make sense. He shouldn’t still be here. You had been gone for days—long enough that he should’ve moved on, left Florida entirely. You had given him nothing to follow. No trail, no leads.
So how the hell did he find you?
You put the yogurt back, pretending to consider a different brand. The reflection shifted—Logan wasn’t at the magazine rack anymore. He was moving. Closer.
Before you could react, a hand grabbed your wrist, pulling you toward the Employees Only door.
Big mistake.
Years of training kicked in before you even thought about it. You twisted sharply, breaking the grip, and slammed the person into the wall inside the backroom. Your dagger was out in a flash, pressed firmly against their throat.
Logan.
His jaw was tight, eyes sharp but not surprised. He barely reacted to the blade at his neck, just met your gaze with that same unreadable expression.
“Took you long enough,” he muttered.
Your grip on the dagger tightened. “I should gut you for grabbing me like that.”
Logan arched a brow. “Go ahead. Might be the only way to get rid of me at this point.”
You exhaled sharply through your nose, pissed but not at him. At yourself. Because you should’ve known he’d find you. You should’ve been more careful.
“What the hell are you doing here?” you asked, your voice low.
Logan smirked slightly, like the answer was obvious. “Lookin’ for you.”
“Try again.”
He held your stare, his throat moving slightly under the blade. “Not here to fight, darlin’. Just talk.”
You scoffed. “That why you dragged me back here? Didn’t exactly scream ‘peaceful conversation.’”
“You were gonna bolt.”
“Damn right I was.”
Logan exhaled through his nose, his patience clearly thinning. “Can you put the knife down?”
You hesitated, then pressed it a little harder—not enough to break the skin, but enough to prove a point. “Give me one good reason.”
Logan held up his hands in mock surrender. “Ain’t gonna hurt you.”
“That’s not a reason.”
He sighed, then, softer this time, “Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.”
Your stomach twisted, but you ignored it, stepping back as you lowered the dagger. Logan exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders as if he’d been expecting you to actually use it.
“Thanks,” he muttered.
“Don’t thank me yet,” you shot back. “Because if you don’t explain yourself in the next ten seconds, I’m gonna drag your ass out of here and dump you in a very public place.”
Logan smirked, but there was something tired beneath it. “You sayin’ I can’t handle a crowd?”
“I’m sayin’ I don’t want to deal with security after I kick your ass in front of an audience.”
He huffed a quiet laugh, then leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms. “Been lookin’ for you,” he admitted. “Figured you wouldn’t make it easy, but damn, Y/N.”
You crossed your arms. “Didn’t know I owed you a trail to follow.”
Logan’s jaw flexed, something flickering in his eyes. “You don’t. But that doesn’t mean I was just gonna let you disappear.”
Your fingers curled against your biceps. “Why not? That was the whole point of leaving, Logan.”
He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Because I don’t think you actually wanna run.”
You let out a humorless laugh. “You don’t know me.”
Logan tilted his head slightly. “Really? ‘Cause anytime your frustrated with me you get this,” Logan gently traced your skin with his thumb, “little crease between your brows—”
You grabbed his wrist, peeling it away from your face, your grip firm but careful. Logan didn’t resist, just watched you, his expression unreadable. His hand was rough, calloused—familiar and unfamiliar all at once. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet his gaze.
“You don’t get to do that,” you said, voice low.
Logan tilted his head. “Do what?”
“Touch me like that.” You let go of his wrist, stepping back. “Like you know me.”
Logan let out a short breath, his eyes never leaving yours. “I do know you.”
“No,” you corrected. “You know her.”
His jaw clenched, and for a second, you thought he’d argue. Instead, he exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Alright. Maybe I don’t know this you. But I know enough.”
You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Yeah? And what exactly do you think you know?”
Logan’s eyes flickered over you, his expression softer now, more cautious. “I know you’re scared.”
Your stomach twisted. “Of you?”
“No,” he said simply. “Of this.”
You swallowed, your nails digging into your arms. “You’re reaching.”
Logan’s lips twitched in something that wasn’t quite a smirk. “Am I?”
You shook your head, turning toward the exit. “I’m not doing this with you.”
“Yeah, you are,” Logan said, and you felt his presence behind you before he even moved. He wasn’t blocking your way, but he was close enough that you could feel the warmth of him, the weight of his stare. “You can run all you want, sweetheart, but I’ll still be here.”
You gritted your teeth, turning on him. “Why?”
Logan held your gaze, his voice steady. “Because I don’t think you want to leave.”
You let out a sharp laugh, shaking your head. “You don’t know what I want.”
“Don’t I?” He stepped closer, just enough to make your breath hitch. “If you really wanted to disappear, you would’ve done it by now. You know how. Hell, you’ve done it before. But you didn’t.”
“I took Laura to Disneyland,” you shot back. “Not exactly the best place to fall off the grid.”
Logan’s brow arched. “You sure that’s all it was?”
You hated how easily he was reading you—how he saw right through the excuses. He wasn’t wrong. You could’ve taken Laura anywhere. Could’ve changed your names again, disappeared into some far-off city where no one would find you. But you didn’t. Instead, you stayed just close enough. Close enough for him to find you.
Logan’s voice softened. “You keep tellin’ yourself you don’t want this, but you’re still here.”
Your throat tightened. “And what about you?”
Logan’s jaw ticked. “What about me?”
“You followed me,” you said. “I told you I was leaving. I told you I was done. And yet here you are.”
Logan exhaled through his nose, his gaze locked onto yours. “Yeah. Here I am.”
The silence stretched between you, thick with everything you weren’t saying. You hated the way your chest ached, the way his presence felt—not just familiar, but right. And that was the problem, wasn’t it?
You swallowed hard, forcing your voice to stay steady. “You should’ve left.”
Logan didn’t flinch. “So should you.”
You clenched your jaw, your fingers tightening around the strap of your bag. This was dangerous. Not because Logan was a threat, but because he wasn’t. Because for the first time in a long time, someone had chased after you—and you didn’t know what to do with that.
Logan stepped back, giving you space. His expression was unreadable again, but his voice was softer this time. “I’m not gonna force you to stay.” He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a quiet sigh. “But I’m not gonna pretend I don’t give a damn, either.”
Your throat tightened, but you didn’t let it show. Instead, you turned, pushing the exit door open.
You didn’t look back.
But Logan didn’t stop you.
And somehow, that made it worse.
---
You brought the bags of groceries inside, the faint smell of lemon cleaner hitting your nose as you made your way to the kitchen. Laura was sprawled out on the couch, flipping through Netflix with the kind of lazy ease only she could manage.
“You clean?” you asked, setting the bags on the counter.
“Obviously,” she muttered, not looking away from the screen.
You arched a brow, glancing around. The place did look cleaner—the floors weren’t covered in her usual mess of books and abandoned socks, and the kitchen counter was actually visible.
“Wow,” you said, pulling out a carton of eggs. “Guess Disneyland really did change you.”
Laura scoffed. “I just got bored.”
You snorted, shaking your head as you started putting things away. “Whatever you say, muñeca.”
She finally glanced over, eyes narrowing. “You were gone a while.”
“Traffic,” you lied easily, shoving a loaf of bread into the cabinet.
Laura sat up, crossing her legs. “Liar.”
You shot her a look. “Excuse me?”
She tilted her head, studying you like she could see straight through you—which, knowing her, she probably could. “You saw him, didn’t you?”
You didn’t answer right away, focusing instead on the milk you were putting in the fridge.
Laura sighed, rubbing her face. “God. And you didn’t deck him?”
“I didn’t exactly have time,” you muttered, shutting the fridge door with more force than necessary.
“So, what happened?”
“Nothing,” you said, turning to lean against the counter. “He was at the store. He grabbed me. We talked.”
Laura’s brows lifted. “He grabbed you?”
You waved a hand. “Not like that. He pulled me into a back room.”
“That sounds worse.”
“It wasn’t.” You exhaled, crossing your arms. “He just… wanted to talk.”
Laura scoffed, leaning back against the couch. “Right. Because Logan’s known for his communication skills.”
You smirked. “Yeah, well. He tried.”
Laura studied you again, her expression unreadable. “And?”
“And what?”
“What did he say?”
You hesitated, running your tongue along your teeth before answering. “That I don’t really want to run.”
Laura huffed a quiet laugh. “He’s not wrong.”
Your jaw tightened. “It’s not that simple, Laura.”
She shrugged. “Never is.”
You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “It doesn’t matter. We’re here. He’ll move on.”
Laura hummed like she didn’t quite believe that. “If you say so.”
You pushed off the counter, deciding this conversation was over. “Go set the table. I’ll make dinner.”
Laura didn’t argue, just stood up and stretched before heading toward the kitchen. As she passed, she muttered, “You should’ve decked him.”
You smirked, shaking your head. “Maybe next time.”
---
Logan was right—he didn’t leave. But he didn’t force you either.
You assumed he learned your schedule because for the next few weeks he was there, always in the background. After work he’d lean against his truck across the street from the school.
When you went grocery shopping he was there, following from a distance.
remember that there is a second part to this!!
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#james howlett x reader#james howlett x you#logan howlett#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett x fem!reader#logan howlett fic#deadpool & wolverine#deadpool#wade wilson#worst!logan howlett#worst!logan#worst!logan howlett x reader#worst!logan howlett x you#worst!logan howlett fanfiction#i love you in every time#i love you in every life
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bucky barnes deserves baby reg reader!!!!
i completely agree!! i saw a tiktok of a mom who brought her kid to a martial arts gym so she could practice and her kid had a little set up in the corner and one comment said: “You watch Bluey while momma chokes the life outta someone, k pumpkin?” and i thought that was hilarious, so that's the inspo for this
notes: cg!bucky, cg!nat and reader live together but buck and nat are not in a relationship (i think they're both super gay)
~1k words
You enter the boxing gym on Bucky’s hip, head resting on his shoulder. A group of you planned to spar together in a gym that you have access to. Peter had saved the owner’s daughter from getting robbed one night and now he could use the gym whenever he wanted. At least once a month you, Peter, Natasha, Bucky, Matt, Frank and Wade (sometimes a few other vigilantes) sparred together. You had planned on sparring but when you woke up feeling smaller than usual, Bucky decided it would be best if you didn’t participate (you were a little disappointed but still happy to come).
Matt, Frank and Peter are already there when the three of you arrive. Natasha trails behind Bucky, holding two gym bags and your backpack. You squeal when you see the others, slapping your hand against Bucky’s chest in excitement. He laughs and bounces you a bit before letting you down. You run to Peter and give him a big hug.
“Hey Petey!”
“Hi bug! No sparring for you today?”
“Nu uh, papa says ‘m too small.” You look beside him where Matt and Frank are watching the interaction. Matt greets you with a small wave and you give him a quick hug before turning your attention to Frank. You raise your arms, requesting to be picked up, and try to give him a convincing look.
“Please Frankie?” He tries to keep his hard expression but everyone knows he has a soft spot for you anyway, so he lifts you into his arms. When you snuggle into him, he smiles a little bit, but enough for Peter, Matt, and Wade (who just came over) to notice. They give him teasing looks and Frank just rolls his eyes.
Natasha sets down your backpack, and pulls out a blanket to spread out beside it. Frank carries you over to your area, in a spot close to all the action. He places you down on the blanket and then hands you your sketchbook and markers from your bag. You smile up at him gratefully, and he gives you a pat on the head before heading towards the ring. Nat crouches down in front of you, a soft look on her face.
“You sit here and watch mama kick these boy’s asses, alright pumpkin?”
“Yeah!”
They’re right over there, you can literally see all of them, and yet you feel left out and needy. Colouring inside the lines is too frustrating but you can’t let go enough to scribble like you want. You tear up, getting overwhelmed by your confusing emotions. As it happened, you are in the presence of people trained to be observant, so it doesn’t take long for someone to notice your tears. Nat is fighting Matt in the ring, so Wade nudges Bucky, who stands beside him as they watch the match.
“Buck, your kid’s crying.” Bucky looks over his shoulder to where you are on your blanket with wide, wet eyes, and your bottom lip wobbling. He jogs over to you, and carefully picks you up.
“What’s up baby?” He looks concerned as he wipes your tears with his thumb and then softly brushes your hair out of your face.
“I dunno, jus’ feel sad ‘n miss you.”
“Aww kid, you can keep me company while I watch the others spar ok?” You nod, sniff, and rest your head on his shoulder. He makes sure you’re secure in the crook of his arm before rifling through your bag and grabs your pacifier. He taps it against your lips and you open your mouth slightly to accept it. He walks back over to the others who are watching by the sidelines, and you hear Peter coo when you get close.
“We got a gym baby with us?”
Bucky bounces you a bit and then turns his body so you can see Peter. You look spaced out and cozy as you rest against Bucky. The group only stays about 10 minutes longer, and the whole time you’re attached to Bucky.
When you get back to the apartment, you lie on the bed, waiting for Bucky to get out of the shower. You play with the ring on your pacifier and roll around on the duvet. You perk up when you hear the bathroom door open, and reach out for him as he comes out.
“I’ll be right there cutie, let me get something quick.” You grumble and watch him as he walks over to the closet and pulls fabric out of a box.
It was Bucky’s birthday recently and Peter gifted him a special fabric that he can use to carry you around the house. There hasn’t been an opportunity to try it yet, but you’re currently clingy and tiny, and dinner needs to be made, so it’s the perfect time.
You watch with curiosity as Bucky wraps the fabric around his stomach and then pulls it over his shoulders.
“Alright come here baby.” He reaches his hands out and you crawl over to him. He picks you up under your armpits and rests you against his chest. You’re squished against him so you can’t see what he’s doing but you feel the fabric wrap around you, making you nice and snug. You take a moment to shift around, getting used to the new position.
Bucky watches as you wiggle a bit before closing your eyes and relaxing fully. When he walks into the kitchen, where Nat is chopping carrots, she coos when she sees you and pauses her cutting to brush her hand over your head lovingly.
“We got a little snug bug hm?”
“I think we gotta get this soup started so this one can eat. That sound good baby?” With your eyes closed, you respond with a quiet “mhm” and Bucky kisses the top of your head.
i've been meaning to write for bucky so thanks for the push anon!
#little reader#little!reader#agere fic#sfw agere#cg!bucky barnes#cg!natasha romanoff#caregiver!natasha romanoff#caregiver!bucky barnes
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firegirl
pairing: luke castellan x daughter of Hephaestus! reader
word count: 5.2k
warnings: mention/description of drowning, very little angst.
summary: in which a date by the lake goes wrong, including a lack of swim lessons and tearful confessions.
-
You’d heard about the stories of the god’s wrath. Hera’s jealousy, Demeter’s wrath, Aphrodite’s envy - your mother had warned you through the tales of Psyche and Io and Persephone long since you were a child wading through fire. A child born of ash and fire, that was what you were. A force of destruction, born only to create with the very hands that burn through flesh and blood.
The stories didn’t mean much at the time, ancient tales of caution now serving as bedtime stories for a little girl that refused to sleep due to constant nightmares. But you should’ve paid better attention, should’ve noticed the urgency in your mothers tone when she warned you again and again that the gods are not forgiving gods.
But maybe facing a jealous goddess’s wrath was better than any other gift your father had given you. Blessed with the knowledge of forgery and fire, you should’ve known that you’d have to stay away from large bodies of water unless you wanted to turn a pool into a hot tub.
You never really learned to swim, not in the way that counted. Sure, you knew how to hold your breath and doggy paddle from one end to another, but your expertise in swimming never extended past the basics. It was something you weren’t so keen on sharing, not when everyone knows how to swim.
When you were smaller, taking a bath meant going outside and having your mom spray you with the hose before you could turn the water to steam. Pool days meant dipping your toes and fingers in the water, and nothing else.
You can look, but don’t touch, your mom had told after one particular accident. It was your cousin’s birthday party, another pool party to relax during the sweltering days of summer. While your cousins and their friends played chicken and cannonball into the water, you stayed at the edge of the pool, watching and just wishing to feel more than a droplet of water splash onto you.
The gods must have heard your wishing because the next thing you knew, you were submerged into water. Little six year old you in six feet deep water, what could go wrong? You don’t remember much from that day, only that you screamed and splashed and cried and soon the other kids screamed and splashed around you too.
It wasn’t until later that you learned that due to an overheating issue in the pool’s pipes, the pool’s water began to heat up until it was as boiling as the hot tub. A freak accident, the pool company called it after getting bombarded with angry parents threatening to sue. You also learned more years later that your panicked state brought that pool to its near boiling temperature.
From that day forward, your mom made a strict rule - no more pool parties, no more swim lessons, and no more unnecessary contact with water. It was too dangerous, she said. And you were too young to argue, so you agreed.
It wasn't until you arrived at Camp Half Blood when you realized how much you were missing out because of that rule. The camp itinerary was filled with fun activities that had dangerous monsters sprinkled in between the activities - perfect for someone who has no idea what world they've gotten themselves into.
There was pegasus riding in the morning, then water balloon fights between cabins, some days had sword practice against some monsters in the forest, then a lunch break while the satyrs played ancient songs on their pipes. You often watched other campers jump into the lake during the hot summer days, wondering if you’d ever get to swim freely like they do.
You quickly learned the dynamic within the camp, at how quickly your life can change with a simple symbol. The day that a fiery hammer hovered over your head was the day that you realized you weren’t alone. Your absent father wasn’t a piece of shit that couldn’t afford child support but the god of fire and forgery - Hephaestus.
All the weird coincidences in your life seemed to make sense. Your constant sweating and overly warm body, your skill with handiwork despite having no experience with tools - it was in your blood to create dangerous flames, to burn and rebuild in the same breath.
The other children of Hephestus didn’t seem to mind having an addition to their cabin, welcoming you with open arms that were stained with grease and oil. They were the siblings you never had, your quirks within the outside world becoming a norm within Cabin 9.
No one seemed to mind the constant overheating from their bodies or the unfinished projects that were scattered along the floor, no one made a face at the sweat that slipped down your face from a hard day’s work of building and destroying and rebuilding again. It was like you could finally belong somewhere, maybe you could even call it a home.
Your siblings never complained about the countless forgery, the mixture of sweat and smoke clinging onto your clothes. There were more days where grease stained your hands and face, which left you in a sour mood after laundry duty, or when you wished you could skip dinner to finish this project because you’re so close to getting it to work.
Overalls and aprons became your favorite items to wear, your pockets filled with scraps of metal and loose screws that you’ve scrapped from the other cabins. You’ve learned how to
But despite the warm welcome you received from your siblings and the amazing cabin life you adapted to, you could never shake the jealousy within you when it came to lake days. You’d often spend your time watching the campers with a longing gaze, wishing you could join them in the cool water that left them squealing and laughing when they touched the water.
Luke had suggested you spend time in the lake with him for the afternoon, saying something about needing a day to yourselves. And you agreed - most days seemed to blur together after an influx of Ares children played too roughly amongst themselves. Shields and spears needed modifications, swords needed to be resharpened, even armor needed to be fixed from some mysterious stabbings that appeared along the chest plates.
So there you were, standing just a couple feet away from the lake, towel in hand as if you were ever going to get into the water. Luke wasted no time getting ready for his swim, as evident by the smears of sunscreen along his nose and cheeks that hadn’t been smoothed properly.
There was something about the lake that always had Luke acting excited. Maybe it was because he could step away from his duties, dropping the mask of confidence that he carried around the younger campers. Or maybe it was the sense of normalcy the lake brought, as if you weren’t demigods fighting for your lives everyday and just a couple of normal teenagers enjoying a hot summer day.
“Aren’t you going to get in?” Luke asked, his calm tone bringing you out of your thoughts. He gave you a questioning glance at your attire, a simple once over before raising an eyebrow at you. You were still dressed in your camp shirt and shorts, stained with grease and oil from your morning in the forgery.
You shook your head, giving Luke a sympathetic smile. “I can’t.” you said simply, brushing at the stains in your shirt as if it were the only thing stopping you from swimming. Your towel laid limp in your hold, still folded from the years of sitting in your closet, and you made a mental note to throw it out one of these days.
Luke still doesn’t know of your mother’s rule or the pool incident all those years ago - mostly because you just didn’t know how to tell him and because he never asked. There was hardly a day where you could have a day to yourselves as demigods, constantly preparing for war against monsters and gods and each other. Swimming seemed like the least of your worries when Zeus was threatening to smite down a certain demigod when his lightning bolt went missing.
“You don’t know how to swim?” Luke snorted, giving you a disbelieving look. He was the one to suggest a pool date in the first place and while you were inclined to agree because you do love seeing Luke shirtless, you soon began to wonder if you should’ve declined his offer.
You rolled out your beach towel, a burnt orange color similar to your camp shirt, and sat stubbornly in the middle. You left your sandals on the grass, enjoying the slight freedom from the You didn’t bother shrugging off your clothes despite your swim suit underneath, it’s not like you’d get it wet anyway.
You can look, but don’t touch.
“Fire and water don’t mix well, Luke.” you scowled, crossing your arms defensively. You felt your cheeks heat up with embarrassment and you knew it wouldn’t be long before your body began to heat up as well. In an attempt to distract yourself, you grabbed a small bottle of sunscreen from your bag, relishing in the coolness of the cream as you applied it to your arms and legs. “It’s basic science, you nerd.”
Luke raised his hands in mock surrender, casually tugging his Camp Half Blood shirt off and tossing it by his shoes. He was always so comfortable in his body, his sleeves usually rolled up to his shoulders to show off his biceps that were toned from years worth of training. And though you’ve been dating for a while now, you tried not to stare at his defined stomach, at how his biceps casually flexed with every movement.
Luke cleared his throat, and you quickly looked away from his body, catching his gaze instead. “Like what you see?” he asked teasingly, giving you a suggestive smirk. You playfully scoffed and rolled your eyes, turning away from Luke to hide your own smile.
It’s been two years since you first started dating Luke and yet he still tries to court and flirt with you like the first day you met. His ego was constantly inflated with your stares and small flirtatious quips, though you loved to act annoyed at how easily he revels in your attention. Lingering touches and lovesick glances was the trademark of your relationship with Luke, most dates filled with sneaking away from your camp to escape the reality of your lives.
“You wish, Castellan.” You huffed, slowly toeing your own shoes off. You didn’t mind not knowing how to swim, you never needed it growing up. Instead of swim lessons, your mom put you in welding and crafting lessons. Instead of wading through the deep end of pools, you learned how much heat you could handle from a fire before you could feel the burn.
You never complained about your lack of experience, it didn’t seem like something worth complaining about. But now, as the summer days started to grow hotter and hotter, you started to envy anyone who could splash around in the lake.
Luke shrugged, taking no mind to your tone and immediately getting into the water. He let out a satisfied groan at the temperature, wadding further and further into the water until it was up to his waist. You watched with a smile as Luke let himself get used to the water, occasionally trying to float when the sun wasn’t in his face.
“Are you sure you don't want to come in? The water is soooo nice” Luke looked up at you from his spot in the lake, his hair already sopping wet from his plunges underwater. It took all of your strength not to let your gaze wander along his chest, down further to his abs before the water obstructed your view.
You gave him a reassuring smile and nodded, casually toeing the water as if you were checking the temperature. The cold water of the lake stung at first, always clashing with the overly warmness of your body. But after keeping your feet dipped in the water. It felt nice, refreshing even, to feel the biting cold of the water against the heat of your skin.
For a second, you forgot that you were the daughter of the fire god, blessed with eternal warmth and cursed with hotheadedness. You were just another body in the water, enjoying the refreshing cold the water offered after a long day’s work of crafting. The water seemed to call to you, inviting you closer to the crystal clear deep of the lake, promising an ice cold plunge that would soothe your aching muscles.
A splash of cold water to your face brought you back to reality, and you opened your eyes to glare at the perpetrator. Instead of facing your annoying boyfriend, you found yourself face to face with a guilty looking son of Poseidon.
Percy Jackson winced at your glare, giving you an awkward wave. The water was at his shoulders, though the boy seemed to have no trouble standing along the deep end with your boyfriend. You waved back, giving the boy a small smile while he streamed out his apologies as quickly as he could.
“I meant to hit Luke, I swear!” he said, raising his hands in surrender. Another wave followed his hands movements and splashed you again, drenching your clothes in ice cold water. You wiped your hair from your face, letting out a hiss at the freezing sensation, but gave the boy a dismissive wave. “Sorry! Sorry again!”
“Percy, stop drenching my girlfriend,” Luke said with a laugh, splashing water onto the boy. The water moved around Percy smoothly, as though the waves had a mind of its own, and crashed upon another camper nearby. In retaliation, Percy swept more water towards Luke, still splashing you with droplets whenever Luke dodged and moved around to avoid the water.
Though you couldn’t join them, you enjoyed watching Luke relax on days like this - where his duties as cabin counselor didn’t weigh on him and he didn’t have to worry about accommodating another unclaimed child in his already crammed cabin. Instead, he was roughhousing with Percy, now determined to win whatever made up game they had thought of.
“I didn’t mean to!” Percy exclaimed, still waving his hands around. Stronger waves surged towards you, hitting you with more force until you were soaking wet along the edge of the lake. Luke laughed and launched at the boy, wading deeper and deeper along the lake until Percy disappeared beneath the water and reappeared somewhere else.
You don’t remember what happened next.
One moment, Luke is splashing more water onto Percy and you’re laughing at how they’re moving within the water. Then in another a giant wave rushes at you, immediately pulling you deep into the water. Your surprised gasp is muffled by the sound of moving water and before you knew it, you were engulfed by the freezing sensation all around you.
The water was cold, ice cold, stinging your entire body with the freezing temperature as you fought against the invisible force in the water. You opened your mouth to scream, to call for Luke or Percy or anyone that could help, but water filled your mouth and lungs and all you could do was panic. Above you, you could see Luke and Percy halt in their roughplaying, their bodies still as you struggled underwater.
Swim, you needed to swim.
But you didn’t know how, didn’t know anything other than to frantically kick at the water, your arms reaching out for something, someone to hold onto. The pounding in your head wouldn’t stop as you tried to push your way up, towards the surface that seemed to move further and further away from your reach.
You can look, but don’t touch, those mocking words echoed in your mind once again, taunting you. A small part of you wanted to give up, there was no point in fighting a losing battle. But as you kicked at the water, pushing yourself up,up,up against the numbing water, you wondered how much longer you could struggle before anyone would help.
Panic clawed at your chest as the roaring of the waves crashed over you again and again. Your lungs burned, your heart pounding wildly with fear at the prospect that you might not be able to make it to the surface. You could hear the muffled shouting from above, the sound of someone shouting your name though you could barely hear it.
A disgruntled sound came from your mouth, weak and sad, as your arms and legs burned in agony with every movement. The burning in your lungs only grew and the salty taste in your mouth made you want to gag as you slowed your flailing to a stop. You weren’t sure if you were crying or if your eyes were burning from the water, you couldn’t tell anymore when all you could do was let yourself sink slowly to the bottom.
All you could do was stare at the surface, watching the light slowly dim as the silhouettes above you rushed towards you. You thought of Luke, how he wanted to have a lake party with his girlfriend before the last days of summer ended. Was that his voice calling out your name, or were you starting to hallucinate? You weren’t sure anymore, not when the water numbed your entire body and the cold turned into a comforting feeling of nothingness all around you.
Maybe your mother was wrong, you thought as your eyes closed, maybe the water wasn’t so bad after all. A rushing sound of water filled your ears, or maybe that was another thing your mind was making up. Maybe you could rest for a bit, let your body relax before you’d swim back to the surface.
Rest - rest was good you decided. With the last bit of consciousness that you had, you thought of Luke one more time before everything faded to black, and your body felt like the nothingness that surrounded you.
Pressure against your chest was the first thing you felt, the thump, thump, thump of something against your chest in a rhythmic beat crushing your chest. It continued in a familiar pattern, thump, thump, thump until more pressure filled your throat and lungs - air.
You woke up with a start, sitting upright and spitting out water you didn’t know you had in your mouth. Tears streamed down your face as you coughed, air finally filling your lungs again as you took in deep, wild breaths. The lights were too bright, blinding you are you tried to take in your surroundings, searching for something familiar to ground you.
The sound of murmuring surrounded you, and you found yourself staring at concerned campers still clad in their swimwear and summer clothes. Sandy blonde hair, deep tans, some with freckles and others with almost glowing eyes - you recognized them as the children of Apollo, all watching you from their spots around your cot.
“What happened?” you rasped, glancing up at the closest person around you - a boy around Percy’s age with a grim look on his face. You recognized him from some of the games, he was more known for his healing skills than anything though he was equally as dangerous with a bow. But you couldn’t remember his name, not when the slight ringing in your ears filled your head.
The boy sighed, wiping his brow as he shooed the rest of the onlookers away. The children of Apollo murmured amongst themselves as they were ushered away, concerned glances cast your way as you watched the boy move with authority. Though he was shorter than some of his siblings, the blond carried himself as if he were wiser beyond his years.
You almost felt bad for him, seeing the same weight of responsibility that constantly hounded Luke crash upon the boy, probably more with the responsibility to heal the wounded. If he had any sense of resentment for his job, the head counselor didn’t show it, save for the tired look on his face once the final camper left your cot.
You attempted to lift yourself from your cot, barely bringing your legs over the edge before hissing in pain. Soreness shot from your thighs down to your calves, and you dug the palms of your hands into the soft mattress as you continued to move towards the edge.
As if realizing your plan, the blond rushed to the side of your cot, holding onto your shoulders in warning. Though he was younger, the child of Apollo was not weak. His grip tightened on your shoulder, as if holding you in place, and you didn't dare challenge his hold. He stared at you, blue eyes daring you to move any closer to the edge, and you felt compelled to heed the hidden warning in his gaze.
“You drowned, I don’t even think calling you lucky is the right thing to describe your situation.” he said softly, his grip never loosening. He reminded you of those doctors you see on those dramatic shows back at home, with a stern and yet disappointed look on his face that made him look older than he really was. “I don’t know how long you were out, but you didn’t have a pulse when they brought you here…” He trailed off, and you sunk into your bed at the realization that you were more than just unconscious. Gods, you almost died drowning. An embarrassed flush spread at your cheeks at the image of the younger campers watching you horribly flail around in the water. You made a mental note to look for swimming lessons from the naiads around the lake, as if they’d be more help than the only child of Poseidon in camp.
“Is Luke-”
“He’s taking a break, he’s been here since you got here.” he said, his light blue eyes gleaming with a knowing look. You let out a small sigh of relief, falling back into the soft pillows of the Apollo cabin’s cot. The pain in your arms and legs had now dulled to soreness, and you knew you’d have to take it easy for the next few days until you could return to the forgery again.
The camper didn’t say anything else as he rummaged through the cabinets and drawers of the healing station. You’re not sure how long you were out for, and a small part of you was too afraid to ask. The knowledge of the time that passed while the children of Apollo tried to bring you back to consciousness made your head feel dizzy and something like bile threatened to rise at the thought of Luke seeing you like that.
Sometime later, the familiar sound of the dinner bell rang throughout camp. Voices all flooded outside the cabin, conversations carrying into your side of the Apollo cabin as the campers made their way to the dining pavilion. You’re pretty sure you heard your name in a couple of the conversations, and you turned away from the window to avoid the wandering gazes of the curious campers walking by.
The door to the cabin opened and the setting sun’s light peered into the cabin, bringing a dramatic backlight to whoever entered. You tilted your head towards the light, eyes blinking at the golden light as you took in the silhouette of none other than your boyfriend.
Ah, Will Solace, you suddenly remembered the familiar freckles and subtle Texan accent that could only belong to one child of Apollo here. You’ve seen him run throughout camp a couple times, sometimes wandering close to
“She’s been up for some time,” Will murmured, more to Luke than you. Luke mumbled something to Will before moving past the boy, walking up to your cot, pressing his fingers against your palm before gently brushing his thumb against your cheek. You leaned into his soft touch, glancing up at him for the first time since the incident.
“Hi,” you whispered softly, looking up at Luke with a sudden shyness. Part of you wanted to hide under your covers, to pretend that you lost your memory and conveniently forgot everything that happened at the lake. But the bloodshot red in Luke’s eyes and slight frown on his lips had a pang of hurt echo throughout your chest at the realization of just how devastating Luke looked.
“Hi,” he whispered back, his voice cracking slightly. He cleared his throat, looking away slightly while he blinked his tears away, and you glanced at your hands instead. You gave him the time he needed, holding his hand with shaking fingers and squeezing it gently. “I’m sorry for….everything.”
You frowned at Luke’s words, at the sullen look in his face and guilt in his tone. He was always so quick to blame himself when things went wrong, so selfless and yet selfishly taking the blame. It was the burden he always seemed to carry as one of the eldest campers, to accept more and more responsibility until the weight broke you down.
“It’s not your fault,” you said softly. Guilt lay heavy in your words, at your own fault for scaring Luke this way. But he needed comfort, he needed you just as much as you needed him right now, and you were okay with ignoring what happened if it meant that Luke would calm down.“It was an accident, that’s all.”
Luke continued, as if he didn’t hear you, his words coming out in a jumbled stream of panicked breaths. You could practically see his train of thought, the anxious thoughts leading with what if, what if, what if, pulling him down a rabbit hole of worse and worse situations. “I should’ve known. I wasn’t thinking and next thing I knew, you were underwater-”
“Luke,” you said sternly, dropping his hand. He turned towards you, that same sad look still in his eyes, now amplified at your tone. Gods, what you would give to make it go away, to make him laugh once more and see that stupid smile you love so much. “I’m okay. I just can’t swim, it’s not a big deal.”
Luke blinked, the only indication of surprise he’d give you. You could see the internal battle within him, forcing him to choose one or the other - to scold or cry, to hold or push away.
“You didn’t have a pulse.” Luke said at last. His eyes were full of tears and when he looked at you, you saw fear, true fear in Luke’s eyes. Luke, who never hesitated to break up a brawl between campers, who wasn’t afraid to speak of his father with spite and venom in his voice. Luke, the greatest man you’ve ever known, regardless of his demigod status or parentage, was afraid. “When we got you back on land, you didn’t have a pulse.”
You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out. There were so many things to say, comforting words mixed with a thousand apologies, but you couldn’t find the words. Today was an accident, but you were here, you were okay.
“I started CPR, but you never…” he cleared his throat and blinked at the tears despite the fact that they’ve fallen down his cheeks already. You lifted a hand to his cheeks, your thumb gently brushing away the tears and tracing down the scar that bore down his face. He was always so brave, but a small part of you wondered if you truly scared Luke for the first time in your relationship. “It wasn’t until Will got to you and started doing compressions, you finally started to regain consciousness.”
“I thought I lost you,” he admitted. You didn’t say anything, letting the words settle within you. Luke looked up at you, lips trembling and tears falling. His confident cool-guy persona was gone, the mask finally broken and revealing Luke’s vulnerable side, the one he kept so secretly hidden from everyone in his life. “I don’t...I don’t know what I would do without you.”
Luke’s shoulders slumped, as if his confession had been weighing on him the entire time. You patted your hand at the now empty space on the other side of your cot, smoothing out the blanket’s wrinkles. Luke looked up at you, as if asking for permission, and you nodded.
“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” you said softly, scooting towards the edge of your cot and looking up at Luke expectantly. Luke just stood by the side, watching you with caution, as if he were afraid you were going to fall unconscious once again. You tried to ignore the pang of hurt that echoed in your chest at his stillness. “You’re stuck with me, Castellan. Forever and ever.”
Gently, Luke settled into the space next to you, shifting his body ever so slightly to avoid the creaking of the cot beneath you. His strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to his body until you could rest your head on his chest. You nestled into his embrace, the solid warmth of his chest offering solace in the empty room around you.
His heart beat in a soft and steady rhythm, the faint ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum of his heartbeat bringing a soothing comfort only Luke could ever bring. It was your favorite sound - the promise of his eternal devotion, the reminder that he’s just as okay as you are.
“No more lake days.” Luke murmured more to himself, his voice a soft whisper against your neck. His breath felt warm against your skin, and you shifted slightly in Luke’s hold to look at him better.
Dark, curly hair swept along his forehead, nearly covering his eyes. You brushed his hair away from his face, fingers gently playing with his curls. But it was his eyes that truly captivated you - pools of soft brown that gazed at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat, drawing you into their depths like a moth to a flame.
In their depths, you could see a myriad of emotions swirling - love, longing, and a hint of vulnerability hidden beneath the surface. It was as if his eyes held the secrets to his soul, bared for you and you alone to see.
As Luke looked at you now, his gaze soft and full of affection, you couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth in your chest. In the soft brown of Luke’s eyes was the reflection of your own love, mirrored back to you in all its raw and unbridled beauty.
You hummed in response, stretching your arms out to wrap them around his broad shoulders. His arms flexed as he held you tightly, as if he were afraid to ever let go, and you didn’t mind. “No more lake days.”
You laid entwined in each other’s arms, the weight of today’s actions leaving your mind. Tomorrow, you’d ask Percy for swim lessons and maybe offer some food to Poseidon as an apology. You’d definitely thank Will Solace later, maybe with a handmade gift that could hold his medical instruments.
But for now, you were content laying with Luke, the gentle rise and fall of his chest lulling you to a dreamless slumber.
#percy jackson#percy jackson and the olympians#pjo series#luke castellan x reader#percy jackson x reader#charlie bushnell#pjo tv show#pjo fandom#the lightning thief#au where luke isn't evil because i wish things were better for him#luke castellan#luke castellan fluff#luke castellan imagine#luke castellan pjo#luke castellan fic#luke pjo
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𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫
↠ female reader. no description of features. no mentions of size.
a/n: pictures made by me, spoilers I guess if you haven't watched Deadpool? No warnings just fluff and dumbassery.
Some time after Deadpool & Wolverine, they get back together, and you're a total surprise for them despite the two wanting a baby before Vanessa died.
"So... are we having a Sonny or a Cher?"
Not being called either of those names and definitely not being called anything 'strippery'... or Wade Jr, Wada, Darth Wader and definitely not Todd, either.
No matter how much Wade worried about being like his dad, all that went out the window when you were actually born.
"I've only had a daughter for a day and a half, but if anything happened to her, I'd kill everyone in this room and then myself... come back to life fuck shit up and die again. Rinse and repeat."
Wade leaving you with Blind Al as a babysitter (sometimes she wouldn't even realize you're there).
"Wade, you can't just leave the baby with a blind person." *Surprise Pikachu Deadpool * "...ableist..."
I feel like Wade, at some point, either dropped you or you fell when you were a kid, but it's for the best since that's how he and Vanessa found out that you're a chip off the ole' block when you heal super fast.
Despite what Vanessa thought when they first agreed to make a baby, they did, in fact, make a 'super baby.'
Always following your 'Uncle' Logan around no matter how much he tries to get rid of you.
"'Babypool' go-... play or something, okay kid?"
Growing up surrounded by mutants means you never think you're different or a freak but instead becoming very protective of your mom. After a talk with your dad about your mom dying, you realize just how fragile people are.
Surprisingly, Wade makes a great girl dad. He does the tea party thing and, of his own accord, puts on the dress and clip earrings; he serves tea to the plush bears and scoffs when others mock him.
"Clearly, you people have no class."
As you got older, you started to look more like your mom, but no matter what situation you found yourself in, you could stop the snark, so much so that it earned you the nickname 'Mini mouth' – Wade was so proud.
Wade took you to the roof of the building to 'bond,' which Vanessa knew was him teaching you how to fight – something she was okay with until you both fell off the roof... more than once.
Them both knowing that despite wanting to give you a normal childhood and life you were going to be some kind or 'hero/antihero'. So they roll with the punches, and Wade makes sure you know exactly what you need to know about it.
"No, spermpool, red is my color. Just ask your mom when we-"
"Ew, Dad... and don't call me that."
On that note, investing in headphones was something you picked up the older you got, asking the store which ones cancel noise the best and then buying earbuds to go with them.
"Minipool, Girlpool, not-as-good-deadpool, Wishpool... ow... okay! We'll think of a better name for you!"
Despite you and your dad both being mercs who have been killed or hurt in every which way, your mom still rules the house. That's how you two find your katanas confiscated when you started playing 'Star Wars' during Thanksgiving.
Your dad makes a lot of Batman and Robin jokes when you're working together, only after he made a weird Batman and Catwoman joke until he realized why that was gross. So you became his Robin.
For someone so laid back about love and sex, Wade is very protective when it comes to you. Seeing the bad guys flirt with you, his deadpan snark reaches a few levels higher than his norm – it doesn't help when your mom hypes up your catsuit.
"I told you we should have gotten her a costume like what the lady three floors down wears."
“Red, that's a Muumuu.”
Being impulsive is like an inherited trait from both of them, which just makes up a chaotic household, and yet you all love every minute of it.
"One of the best things my dad ever gave me, not by choice, are these two gold-plated 50 caliber desert eagle pistoleros...."
𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗲 𝗦𝗼𝗻𝗴𝘀
The Nights by Avicii
GDFR by Flo Rida
X gon' give it to ya by DMX
𝗥𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝗧𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲𝘀:
Chaotic parents x Inherited Chaos (you)
Matching Family Energy
Dumbasses (wade, you) x Oh, those are my dumbasses (vanessa)
#Marvel#MCU#deadpool and wolverine#Deadpool#x female reader#x daughter!reader#deadpool x daughter!reader#deadpool x you#deadpool x reader#Deadpool's daughter#x platonic reader#reader insert#imagines#headcanons#vanessa carlysle#deadpool headcanons#brunettemarionette
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, familial judgement/bullying, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Your mother invites a lonely coworker to Thanksgiving, a bit too lonely.
Characters: Andy Barber
Note: this is the second of my autumn fics as decided by all of you!
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.
Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖
The smell of nutmeg hits you as you enter the house. That and the garble of voices. You take your time as you unlace your boots, keeping your jacket on as the rack is already overflowing with the like. You mentally ready yourself to face your famiiy and their annual judging panel.
You peek into the front room as you keep a firm hold of the boxed pies you grabbed from your favourite bakery in the city. You promised dessert and you brought it. You'll put them down before you wade in the deep end.
You enter the kitchen, rehearsing your greeting for your mother, but you're met with a stranger's back. He stands at the counter, scraping cranberry sauce from a saucepan into a serving dish. His brown hair is combed back neatly, though you can only see the ends from your vantage, and he wears a pressed shirt too white for the task at hand.
You hesitate. Where the heck is your mom? You can't see the man's face but you can tell he's a bit too young for her. Or so you would assume. He could be a cousin's boyfriend and yet he might be a bit above that.
"Um, hi," you say as you approach the end of the island counter, well away from him, "I'm looking for my mom."
"Your mom? Doris?" He wonders.
"Yeah," you answer as you set the pies on the counter. "I know I'm a little late..."
"She just went to grab something from the cellar," he explains. "I'm Andy--"
"There she is," your mom sweeps in with her seasonal gravy dish. "Mm, I knew you'd bring store bought."
"They're from a local bakery."
"You never did like being in the kitchen," she reprimands. "Oh, Andrew, that looks perfect. Not too runny."
You glance at the man. This strange man draws praise from her like honey from a comb, whereas you find the task as easy as squeezing juice from a stone. You let it roll off your back like you have for years.
"I got pumpkin, apple crumble, and some pecan. They usually sell out of that." You say.
"Ooh, pecan," the man, Andy, says.
"Oh, Andrew, my younger daughter," your mother introduces you as an afterthought as she goes to wash the gravy boat, "The typist."
"Typist? Mom, I'm an admin assistant," you counter. "I guess it doesn't matter."
"Just her, I'm afraid," she shuts off the faucet. "And her pies. No grandkids from her yet."
You see that this year is going to be just like the last. You're better off facing the rabble of aunts and uncles waiting for you in the front room. Heck, the kids' table might be the place for you.
"Thirty this year," your mother adds.
You force a tight-lipped smile. When you were a kid, it was your grades or the stubborn bit of hair at the back of your head or that your sister, Tia, did it better. Now you're an adult, it's your lack of ambition or lack of kids. You don't think you lack the former and you don't really want the latter. Life is what it is. You have a job that pays your bills and you don't need to add to your cost of living.
"I work with your mom." He offers. You look at him again.
He’s tall, blue-eyed, distinguished. He’s older but carries it well enough. The thin lines around his eyes only add to his looks, and his thick beard further defines his jaw.
"Oh, the law firm?"
"He's a new partner," your mother preens. "Oh, he gave your brother some good advice too. Hopefully he can move out of that public office soon enough."
Right, Rodney does everything right. He got into law, just like your mother told him too, and he has a pretty house and a pretty wife and three spoiled brats. Tia only has the one and a husband who works out of town every weekend. They're real grown-ups but to you, growing up seems boring.
Your life isn't glamourous. You do diamond art or catch-up on the last issue of your favourite comic when you're not too tired. You get takeout once a week, otherwise you put the ready-made meals in the microwave and eat it in front of the television. It's not special but it's your life.
"Public defenders do a service to the community," Andy says. "I did it for twenty years. It's not bad work. He can move up."
"Mm, and yet you moved to a private firm," your mother challenges him.
"Maybe you should be partner," he chortles at her playfully as he wipes his hands on the tails of the borrowed apron tied around his torso.
"My mom makes really good stuffing," you say, "I'm sure you'll enjoy it, even if you're not home for the holiday." You drag your feet along the tile, "I'm going to say hello to Auntie Toya."
"Good luck. She's in one of her moods," your mother tuts. "Must be menopause."
You leave before she can aim another snipe in your direction. She can't help but let the bullets fly and see where they hit. It might be thanksgiving, but you're struggling to find much to be grateful for.
🍂
"Mandy has a Christmas recital. I'll be sending the invite in the family chat," Tia, your sister, proclaims. "If you can make it, she'd be so happy, huh, sweetie?"
She pets behind her daughter's ear and makes her giggle. Every awes and cooes at the little girl. Just like when your sister was her age, she's the princess of the family.
"I can try to bring the kids," Rodney says. "We're thinking to get Kelly into dance next year. I need to get used to those things."
Everyone laughs. You're not very amused. You're happy the kids have hobbies, that they are doing interesting things, but you just don't care that much. Still, your happy to be able to fade into the background.
"I'm sure your sister can make it," your mother says, bring you back into the universe, "she doesn't have anything else going on."
Your eyes dart back and forth. Your mouth is full of potatoes. You gulp painfully.
"I can set the date aside. I still have some vacation left," you choke out. You can't make up an excuse with a whole audience to call you out.
You sink back into silence as Tia goes on about the show. They're doing The Nutcracker. Oh joy. You were never a fan. Why can't they do something fun, like The Grinch?
"Don't think I'm included in that invite," Andrew says under his breath from your left shoulder. As the two loners at the table, you're put together. "Kinda awkward."
He chuckles, trying to ease the tension. You shift and hide your embarrassment. You forgot there was a complete stranger here to witness your judgement.
"Right, well... I'm sure you have enough going on," you say.
"I'm sure you do too," he pokes at the yams. "Kids keep you busy but life is already hectic."
"Sure," you agree dully. You don't want to be rude. "you have kids?"
"One. A son. Grown. He went to his girlfriend's for the holiday and his mom... is not in town."
"Bad timing," you take another bite of potatoes. Maybe next year you can come down with a timely case of the flu.
"Don't be silly. She doesn't have a boyfriend. We'd all know," your mother trills with laughter. You pop your head up as the hairs on your neck tingle. You know she means you before you even catch her gaze. "It'd be such an achievement, she'd have to shout it from the rooftops."
You lost track of the conversation and you're not sure how you became the butt of the joke, but you're tired. It's supposed to be a day for family but it just feels like you're being cast out of yours. You put your fork down.
"I'm going to clear my plate. Think I had too big a snack on the drive here," you stand, gritting back your irritation. "As usual, stuffing's delicious."
You get up and make your way along the table. The silence is dense. Oh well. If they want to make this painful, you can do the same.
You go to the kitchen and find a container. You scrape your leftovers into it and shake your head. You suppose you are behind. You're thirty years old. Next year you'll be thirty-one and her chiding will be even louder. The ticking of the clock will only ger worse as the years go by.
"You're right, stuffing's good," Andy says.
You wince and glance over your shoulder. "Uh, yeah. Like I said, think my eyes were bigger than my stomach."
He comes up next to you and rinses off his plate, "well, I think my stomach would be turning too after that."
"It's whatever," you shrug.
"Thirty isn't old. You got time," he says.
"Thanks," you reply tersely.
"Not that it's any of my business."
You're silent. It isn't but you're not going to be rude enough to say that out loud. Unlike the rest of your family, you can keep your thoughts to yourself. They might think you're immature because you're not living behind a white picket fence, but at least you don't act like a teenager.
"It's better to take your time. You know, you rush into big decisions and you can't undo them. They don't always turn the way people promise," he says. "You follow that road map, take one wrong turn and you're wife's spending Thanksgiving with her 'work husband' at a hotel." He opens the dishwasher and wedges his plate between the metal, "Work husband, secret boyfriend, you know..."
You're struck by the revelation. You can hear the tension in his voice. The hurt, the anger.
"Oh, I'm sorry," you utter dumbly.
"You're sorry? She isn't," he reaches for your plate and rinses it next. "I'm not telling you because I want you to feel bad for me. I guess I'm trying to commiserate. It could be worse." He adds your plate to the washer, "you're doing nothing wrong. Being alone means you have choices. Being tied to someone... you have obligations."
"Yeah, sounds about right," you say. "Well, thanks. Not to benefit off your pain but yeah." You put the lid on the tupperware and sidle along to put it in the fridge, "I think I'm going to get some fresh air. Getting a bit overcrowded in here."
"A little," he agrees.
You leave and hold your breath until you get to the front door. Who knew the stranger at the table would be the only one to make you feel welcome?
You grab your coat from the guest room and push your feet into your boots at the front door. You go outside into the brisk air. It's actually nice. Refreshing almost.
You sit on the porch bench. In the colder months, it's rarely used. It hasn't snowed yet but the frost glistening on the grass is foreboding.
You tuck your hands into your sleeves and look along the street. The other houses with yellow windows, glowing with the warmth and shadow of happy families. This time of year has only ever been stressful to you. You're never a part of the fun, you're usually the source of it.
The front door opens and you fight to keep your unease under wraps. You don't need your mom lecturing you. Again. Or Tia telling you not to be jealous. Whatever happens is always your fault.
"Whew, it's cold," Andy's voice eases your nerves as it assures you it isn't who you fear.
"Yep, I don't mind. It's the only thin I like about this time of year."
"Really?" He nears and sits on the other end of the bench. "I'm a summer person, I guess. Used to be we'd go to some resort for New Years." He says.
"Sounds nice," you say.
"I know. I'm moaning about a luxury," he scoffs, "trust me, I get it. I got it all, what do I got to whine about?"
"I wouldn't say that. You never know what people have going on."
"Nope," he agrees and rubs his hands together. He's quiet as he leans forward, resting his elbows on his legs. He bends and unbends his fingers as he examines them then sits up again. "Brrr. Only good thing about this weather, snuggle weather."
He laughs. You try to. It's an awkward joke.
"Maybe I should get a cat," he suggests.
"Maybe," you clutch your hands tight. You should go inside. You know he's being nice but he's ruined the moment.
Your teeth chatter as you take a deep breath of the late autumn air. Just a little longer before you go back. You close your eyes.
The bench creaks and you think he's getting up. He must get the hint. Instead, as you open your eyes, you feel a weight across your shoulders. You flinch and peek at him from the corner of your eye.
"You're shivering," he says.
You look at him then back to the road. You should pull away but you can't. It feels mean.
"God, my hands are so cold," he grips your shoulder as he puts his other hand on your thigh.
"Woah," you catch his thick fingers.
"Come on, let's get warmed up," he breaks through your resistance and rubs your leg.
"Alright, I don't know what you think--"
"What's so wrong about it? Like trains passing through the night. My wife's cheating, you're single, we could have some fun," he purrs as he holds you against him.
"Um, no thanks," you grab his fingers again. "I'm flattered but--"
"Shh, shh," he peels his hand away from your leg, once more evading your grasp, and grabs your chin. "Your mom told me all about it. How you can't get a date--"
"That's not--" you latch onto his wrist, "stop, please, Andy."
"Come on," he turns your head and nuzzles your nose with his, "I'm so fucking lonely. My wife hasn't touched me in over a year."
"Your wife-- Andy," you hiss.
"Just kiss me, please? That's all I want. Just a little affection. To feel wanted."
"You're-- stop. Let go of me," you try to dislodge his hold on you. He's too strong.
He tilts his head and presses his lips to yours. You murmur and slep his chest with your other hands. He hooks his arm around you as he angles you toward him. You writhe and bite his lip.
He gasps and pulls back, keeping you locked in his embrace, "listen, sweetheart, you wanna play hard-to-get," he squeezes your jaw until you whimper, "what's mom gonna think when she catches you all over her married coworker?"
"No, that's not--"
"I'm sure she'll believe you," he snarls and slides his hand down to your throat.
"Why..." you croak.
"Baby, please, it's not a bad thing," he moves you with him as he edges off the bench. He turns, one arm still around you, his other hand locked onto your neck. He bends and forces you onto your back as he settles over you. "I'm going to make you feel just as good as you make me feel."
You wriggle and whine. What he says is just as scary as what he hasn't said. He'll make you feel as good as you do him, or as bad.
#andy barber#dark andy barber#dark!andy barber#andy barber x reader#one shot#fic#autumn#defending jacob
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My Father's Daughter pt 14
Summary: Dick and the others have finally caught up to Y/n and her "Red Team", but have they gotten there too late?
Dark.
That's all you saw, just darkness. You felt like you were floating in a sea of pitch black water, unaware but uncaring at the immense peril you were in. You floated, faintly hearing a noise in the background, something telling you to wake up and fight. But you wanted to ignore it, it felt good. Good to just float, not worrying about a thing.
But then there was a light.
A piercing bright light that hurt your eyes as you stared into it. And a ringing. A ringing that made your eardrums feel as if they were about to burst.
"Hello."
Who the fuck was that?
"Who the fuck are you?" You say with a hoarse voice, still not grasping the situation you were in.
"Such a foul mouth." The man tskd, " The signature of a Stark I guess."
You look around and feel the restraints on your wrists and ankles. You look down to see that you're splayed out on a table.
"That, unfortunately, shall be the first thing to go."
Panic floods your body.
You finally realized what is happening.
They got you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
" What do you mean she's gone?!"
Christine screams at the her children, " She- She was just here! She was in her room! She was safe!"
Dick looks up from the ground, feeling like he was twelve again, " Mom they.. they just came from nowhere. We had just gotten there when they attacked.."
Bruce was already making his way towards his suit, Dick and Jason had burst into the house, rushing the battered Peter, Wade, and Dopiender.
They were all caught off guard when they had finally found you, literally across the street only to see a group of armed men dressed in black descend on your unsuspecting friends.
They took out who they thought would be the biggest threat, Wade Wilson.
Or at least they tried to. They first shot him in the chest, hoping that the blast would take him out of the game, but to no luck. He flew back allowing them to shoot you with a tranquilizer, but he quickly rose and started firing back. It was only when they got him with a headshot that he went down and stayed down.
Peter, although he didn't have his suit, tried his best to get to you dodging multiple tranquiliser darts and managing to knock a few of them men to the ground. He was however overwhelmed and swiftly knocked out by a hit to the back of the head.
Dopinder actually managed to kill two men before he was shot in the arm and passed out from the blood.
By the time the shock from it all wore off and the Bat crew rushed to the scene, it was all over.
You were gone, and weren't even able given the chance to defend yourself.
The sight of your limp body being carelessly lifted haunted Jason's mind. He chased the SUV for twelve blocks before he lost them. By the time he made it back to the abduction spot, Peter had woken up and was panicking.
His best friend had just gotten kidnapped and he was being interrogated by Nightwing and Robin. Jason, fueled by adrenaline and rage tried to slam Peter into the taxi but was deflected by said boy. Surprising everyone and sending into attack mode.
But before any fighting could happen, Dick came in to be the voice of reason.
They piled into the nasty taxi and headed off back to the Batcave to allow Wade and Dopinder to recover and to think of a plan to rescue you.
"Jason," Bruce said, " What are you thinking?"
Jason looked at him from where he stood, " They were watching us."
Bruce nodded, " They knew she was here the whole time."
Christine stopped her yelling, " What?"
Bruce looked at her, " They knew she was here. That's how they were able to grab her so quickly. They had a plan."
Dick looked angry," We don't even know who these people are! How are we supposed to get her back?"
And for once, Bruce didn't have an answer to that. Despite the amount of time you had been with them, there has been little to nothing found about the people who were after you. Not by Bruce and not by your father. He had spent nights sitting in front of that computer trying to help figure out how to keep you safe. But without whatever information Tony had found, he knew next to nothing.
Christine held in her tears, she thought she had ran out of tears earlier but here they come again. She had that feeling again. The same feeling she had when she left you. The same feeling she had when she listened to the voicemails and read the emails you sent her. The same feeling she had when the movers told her about your outburst, and the same feeling she had when she saw you at that gala.
Was it sadness or guilt? She couldn't tell anymore.
But she was afraid.
Afraid for you, and what these people had planned for you. This was the one thing she had been terrified would happen and it's happened. They've taken you from her.
"It's my fault." She cried," If I had just listened to her-"
"Miss Christine, I'm afraid now is not the time for your pity party." Alfred said from where he had been helping Dopiender, who was stll unconscious.
" Alfred." Bruce said in an exhaused manner
"I am sorry Master Bruce, but I believe it's best if we focus on Y/n and not tiptoeing around Miss Christines woes of failed motherhood."
The whole room froze. It was rare for Alfred to criticize Christine for anything, as she was his favorite.
"Woah..harsh Jeeves"
Everyone turned to see Wade rising froom his bed, wound healed.
"What the fuck?" Jason said, " This dude took a headshot!"
"Not the first time" Wade shook his head, forgoing the dirty joke that popped into his head, " Now where the fuck am I?"
Everyone again froze, but Bruce emerged from the shadows, full on Bat mode.
"Who are you."
Wade took one look at Bruce and laughed in his face.
"hahahaha oh oh I'm sorry- I just hahahahaha" Another burst of laughter came from his mouth, "You're so scary I promise!"
The room looked at the man uneasily. The one person that was crazy enough to laugh in Batman's face was the Joker.
"Wade stop it." Peter said from where he stood, "Y/ns gone."
Laughter ceases immediately, an eerie aura fells the room, " What was that bugs?"
"They got her."
"Then what the fuck are we standing around here for!" Wade shouts, the sudden shift in personalities making the family of bats unsettled.
Except for Jason.
"Can I just ask who the fuck are you?"
Your two friends turn to him," We're Y/ns family."
Jason pauses and nods," Okay then."
Then proceeds to give them the rundown on what they have discovered, which is not a lot.
There's a heavy silence that fills the air.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Panic fills your veins.
"That will be the first thing to go."
Those words riddled your brain as you were strapped down to this table. The room was white, almost like a hospital room.
Now, this wasn't the first time you had been kidnapped, but most of the time it was petty. Ransoms and whatnot. And your dad always managed to find you within the hour.
This was different. This was people who truly had no good intentions.
You were scared. Your dad had no idea where you were. You were worried about your friends, and even about the Waynes.
You had no idea on whether they were looking for you or still thought you were in your room. For all you knew, they were having a grand time thinking you were sulking and weren't going to discover you were gone till it was too late.
And what would happen to your dad if you die? He could barely take care of himself when Christine left him. He needed to you. He needed you to be okay so he can be okay. You couldn't dead. And your mom, you couldn't leave her to pick up your dads pieces. She didn't know how. Not like you did. and what about Jason-
"Ah, you're aware."
A woman came in this time.
"I apologize for the rather rude introduction, I'm afraid men just don't have the same gentle touch as us women."
She had a small frame. She was pale, almost deathly so. With graying hair that had no cut, just long and curly. She didn't look old however, that's what unsettled you the most. She looked about a few years older than you.
"Please don't pay no attention to whatever these men say to you, we do not intend to cause you any harm."
Her voice was calming, it soothed your panic and eased your anxiety. It made you feel like you were floating.
"Now, Ms. Stark I know you are probably wondering why you are here."
You couldn't even bring yourself to care, you felt at ease. A frail cold hand carding through your hair.
" This building we're in used to be a prestiges lab. We studied the human mind and its capabilities. With the rise of people such as Wanda Maximoff and such, this research was well needed. We searched far and wide for the people with these capabilities. Which was hard because they are so rare as I am sure you know."
She rises from her place next to you, hand leaving your hair. She walks over to a table next to you. When did that get there?
"Well, the search for these people was fruitless as you can imagine. Not many people are as forthcoming with their capabilities as we hoped. It became so bad that we had to force these poor subjects out of their hiding spaces. But even then the search didn't turn up much. So we decided that we would make our own."
You really didn't comprehend what this woman was telling you. All you wanted was to go back to sleep. You felt so relaxed.
"As you can imagine, that didn't particularly go as planned. We didn't mean to kill them, their minds just weren't strong enough."
Wait what?
"There were many that came through ; young, old, male female. And only one group was ever rarely successful. And can you guess who it was?"
A cold chill went down to your bones as you were piecing together her story.
"Young women, age 15-25." She said calmly, " Of course they did."
You didn't respond, just stared into this womens pale eyes. She was starting to creep you out.
"Now, I bet you're wondering where you factor into this equation." She hmms, hand back in your hair. A little rougher.
'Well my dear, I am afraid you just got caught in the crossfire. You see, one of my little experiments just so happened to escape." She sighs, eyes showing some sort of emotion, "She was beautiful, with a strong mind. I even came to view her as a daughter of my own. My little petal."
"Wait..what?"
"Don't interrupt it's rude." This women chides, not cruelly but you knew not to say anything else.
"Now, escaping just wasn't enough for my little petal, oh no. She decided that she needed to expose our...little secret. It was all covered up of course, you know how the government is about things like this, but our funding was cut and our doctors were arrested."
While she was talking you can feel an intense amount of pain. A deep sorrow penetrating your soul and heart. You felt betrayed, hurt.
"Well, imagine my surprise when I turn on the television and see a girl who looks exactly like my little flower."
That's when you knew.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Back at the manor, Peter was frustrated.
All these people were doing was arguing. Arguing about who should've been watching you, Arguing about what they should have done, what they did do, what they should be doing.
It baffles Peter that these were the feared vigilantes of Gotham.
Bruce was too busy trying to figure out just where you were taken and Christine had deemed him too normal to even be able to help (They didn't know he was Spiderman). Dick and Damian were out trying to find any footage that might have been taken on the scene. Wade was out talking to some of his connections with Cass because Bruce didn't trust him to be alone. So he was stuck being babysat by Tim and Jason who are arguing about the best course of action.
"I'M SAYING WE GO BACK TO THE DINER AND RETRACE OUR STEPS"
"Oh yeah that's a great idea, go to the bad side of town and ask about that one crime that happened in that one alley at night. As if anyone will talk."
"Well it's better than sitting here all-"
Peter tunes them out. He tunes everyone out. He's worried about you.
He knew that you only came here to make things easier for your dad. So he didn't have to watch you 24/7.
But the ironic thing is, Tony was worried out of his mind. He worked endlessly to find these people, people that he may have crossed in the past, people who may want to hurt him through you. Just to turn up with nothing everytime. Peter knew everyone one missed you. Your presence was not unnoticed.
He hated not being able to talk to you everyday, it was like you just didn't exist. He couldn't imagine how you felt, cut off from the only life you'd known
And all that pain for what? Just for the one thing no one wanted to happen come true in the end.
"Ahem." a throat cleared, breaking Peter out of his thoughts
"Sir, I don't mean to disturb you but perhaps now would be a good time to...call in some reinforcements." Alfred implied, softly talk as to not alert the other members of the family of his plan.
Peters brows scrunched in confusion before rising in clarity. He nodded softly, before standing and pardoning himself to the bathroom that Alfred showed him to.
When he was safely away from the commotion, he pulled out his cellphone.
*ring* *ring*
"Talk to me."
"It's Peter!DeadpoolkidnappedmetocomeseeY/ningothamandnowshesgoneandidontknowhattodoan-"
"Woah! Woah slow down Spiderboy, what do you mean you're in Gotham? That's a terrible place to be in."
"No it's Y/n sir! SHe's gone!"
A pause hits Peters ears, he almost thought he got hung up on"
"Peter, what are you saying?"
"They got her Mr. Stark. I'm sorry."
......
"Give me your location, we'll be right there."
#marvel x reader#marvel#tony stark x daughter!reader#reader insert#dc comics x reader#jason todd x reader#dick grayson x reader#x reader#bruce wayne x daughter!reader
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‧₊˚✧ ❛[ where he finds home ]❜
ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel
╰₊✧ you and your daughter have managed to fall into a comfortable pattern of life with logan by your sides, but your ex shows up one night to stir up some trouble and the wolverine isn’t having any of it┊2.9k words; prt one, prt two (here), prt three (coming soon)
setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: hurt/comfort? mostly fluff, ooc logan probably, single mother reader with an unspecified age but still younger than logan, this chapter is mostly in your perspective, asshole exes, rushed ending what, but love confessions & getting together isn’t that cute
➤ author's note: alright, part two of the single mom! reader & her daughter!! the amount of support i’ve had on this was overwhelming, so sorry that this chapter isn’t on par with the first one, hopefully the next one will be better!
ever since that night, logan found himself rarely going a single day without interacting with you or your daughter. he can’t explain the force that seems to pull him towards the two of you, but he can easily realize that the sheer magnitude of it overpowered the little voice in the back of his head spewing pessimistic comments about how this couldn’t possibly end well just like everything else in his life did. his little made-up rule not to get attached is thrown out the window every time he sees either of you, reminding him that one simply cannot fight against the impossible no matter how much of a hardened killing machine he used to be. how could he try to avoid these feelings when they seemed to fill the hole in his heart until it was bursting at the seams with affection as if it was as easy as the apple pie you sometimes baked to share?
besides, even if he tried to hide this rapidly growing fondness, it’s not like anyone would have let him: not when wade keeps on offering to babysit while you’re at work, not when your baby has picked up the habit of running up to him to ask for hugs or to be picked up, not when you’re a sight for sore eyes as you follow up in the evening in your formal attire and pearls to pick her up, and especially not when althea keeps asking you when you two are getting married with the claim that she doesn’t need sight to see the chemistry happening at the dinner table.
you’ll laugh and brush it off as the old lady watching too many romance films in her free time, but your cheeks are secretly burning in embarrassment at how literally everyone can tell that you’re crushing like a high schooler in your grown age except for the subject of your fancy.
logan himself is pretty difficult to read, but thankfully, his roommates are open-book, blunt to a fault, and willing to tell you anything and everything you need to know whether or not you even asked. for example, they confirmed he did indeed have a soft spot for you and your daughter, one that made them howl with laughter as they bully him relentlessly for it (feel free to tell them that they shouldn’t because he’s just being nice, they aren’t going to listen to you). he tries his best to refrain from swearing within earshot, not even under his breath on the off-chance she will hear it and pick it up. he fixes his appearance whenever he knows he’ll see you in an attempt to look more approachable. he never cares to listen to the ongoing conversations about other friends, but he’ll lean in a little closer if it’s about you. he even buys toys or stuffed animals on occasion because he thinks of her when he sees them.
you probably shouldn’t be thinking about these things during such a busy moment of your life when you’re focused on raising your daughter, getting that job promotion in the bag, and finally agreeing to take your ex to court for him to take responsibility by paying child support. although he’s as kind as a man who is as gruff and rugged as he can be, he’s still an older man (both chronologically and biologically) who is a mutant superhero with powers you were still unaware of. it’s not you questioning if he’s safe to be around, it’s you questioning if it’s in his best interest to have a family with all that going on (especially if he wanted to play father to a toddler who had no blood relation to him. playing uncle is one thing, but father? you can never be sure).
still, you would be lying if you said that seeing him being so tender and sweet with your daughter didn’t stir up a domestic image in your mind. a girl could only dream, right?
recently, he’s been showing up at your doorstep with a toolbox in hand every other day. you’ve been complaining lately about how nothing under your roof seems to work anymore and every time you inform the landlord, you get a half-assed job that falls apart within the span of a week: the pipes are leaking, the windows refuse to open, the gas stove won’t start, and there are also other things you never got around to fixing yourself like a wobbly desk or putting together a little bed for your baby since she’s outgrown her crib.
the conversations usually go a little something like:
“oh, you really don’t need to—”
“no, no, i insist— it’s not like i have anything better to do, and i’ll do a much better job than whatever the fuck those maintenance men have been doing anyways.” he’ll purse his lips at the unintentional curse word which slipped and then push past you. “anyway, which windows have been giving you trouble?”
it takes him an hour maximum to work his magic, always leaving behind something fully functional and stable enough to last for years. you’ll compliment his handy skills and try to push a wad of cash into his hands, but he refuses it every single time. you can’t match his stubborn personality for more than a few minutes, so you’ll sigh and offer him to stay for dinner instead because you refuse to let him go home empty-handed after helping you out so generously.
while you’re busy rummaging through your pantry and fridge for ingredients to cook something of varying degrees of complexity each time, your daughter will make an appearance to keep logan occupied because you refuse to allow anyone to enter your kitchen ever since that incident with wade. yes, he is more careful and mature, no, you’re not taking any chances.
tonight, she’s playing forcing him to play with an assortment of dolls. he’s never done this before, and it looks so awkward to see a grown-ass six-foot-two man holding a little blonde barbie limply in his hand without any idea what the setting is or the storyline or the characters supposed to be played, but your girl was smiling and cheerfully babbling something barely legible every time he played along so he wasn’t about to complain about it.
you hummed a tune while slicing thin slices of beef, completely on autopilot and enjoying the night of peace. the doorbell suddenly rang throughout your apartment and you rushed to wash off your hands before wiping them off with a dishrag, assuming it was one of his roommates. who else could the unannounced visitor be at eight-thirty in the evening?
the smile on your face immediately dropped when you saw the unusually unkempt appearance of your ex-fiancé, reeking of booze with his hair sticking out a little past his ears and rough stubble lining his jaw. before you could even say something, he rudely pushed past you and stood in the center of the unfamiliar space. maybe it was for the best since he definitely would have caused a massive commotion in the hallway and disturbed the neighbors who didn’t need to be subjected to your personal issues. your daughter had fallen silent and stared at him in a mix of confusion and something else that was unreadable yet clearly not joyous in any way.
the entire world seemed to stop for a moment as you held your breath in anticipation of his next move, wondering if he was going to be amiable or (more likely) stir some trouble to disturb the peace. your eyes met with logan’s and you shifted your gaze to the hallway entrance for a split second to signal him to bring your daughter into her bedroom, sparing her the scare that would come when her father would inevitably lash out.
he understood immediately and picked her up in a single swift motion, “come on, bub, it’s time to go to bed.” his hand rested her head on his shoulder and she appeared to be okay, just wide-eyed with her thumb in her mouth, almost as if she could recognize the gravity of the situation despite barely being able to comprehend such things.
“it’s only been a few months, and you’re already living with another man…:
“it’s actually almost been a year, but what are you even doing here? i thought you had a wedding to plan.”
“... wedding’s been canceled…”
“aw, really?” you could already tell where this was going. althea told you plenty of times that once he saw how much better you were doing without him while his life quickly tumbles down a slope, he would come crawling back. she made you promise on your life that you wouldn’t take him back no matter what, whether he begged on his knees promising he’ll be better or revealed he was the new ceo of amazon with riches beyond your imagination. you didn’t quite understand her concerns because the thought of it never crossed your mind once, but she just tutted and reminded you that love was unpredictable before revoking her statement when she remembered you wouldn’t get back together with your ex when the wolverine was on the table.
“she was seeing someone else…”
“well, well, well, you know what they say, ‘karma’s a bitch.’ it’s about time you got a taste of your own medicine, you cheating bastard.”
he took a step towards you and you flinched in response, making the other man standing in the shadows straighten his posture. he was never physically abusive, but you had no idea how he would behave under the influence. “you know she was the reason everything fell apart…”
“oh, don’t try to pin the blame on her when you were the one who was about to get married and you were the one who made the choice to abandon her family. good on her for leaving, and you should do the same.”
“do you ever think there would be anyone who would love you like i did? i was your first, and there isn’t anyone else who would take you as is. hell, i don’t even think the other guy will be around for much longer—”
“alright, i’ve had enough of this.” logan came forward from his spot in the shadows, getting closer to your ex until he was clearly intimidated by his looming figure and threatening aura. it’s the first time you’ve seen such a dangerous edge to him, yet strangely enough, you still felt safe knowing he was acting in your defense (if it was any other man, you probably would have kicked them both out before it could escalate). “get out of here.”
“can’t believe this,” he spat, turning his head to look back at you, “you bitch—”
he grunted at the insult, feeling more pissed off about it being directed at you rather than him, promptly throwing a punch into his face and gripping onto his collar before he could stumble over. an unfamiliar *schlikt* sound was heard before your eyes managed to process the long metal claws mere inches away from gouging out your ex’s eyes, making you gasp quietly in shock.
“okay! okay! i’m leaving!”
“i’ll escort you out,” he growled, still not letting go of him as he shoved him out of the door and closed it behind him, wanting to make sure that he would never come to bother you like this ever again and also drag him to apartment security to ensure they understood not to let him in ever again.
then once he was gone, logan stood outside in the slight cold for a moment wondering what to do next. he just revealed his true nature to you that he’s been trying so hard to suppress: violent and animalistic. he should just prepare to hear you say that you are now scared of him, that you would prefer it if he didn’t come over anymore and to stay away from you and your daughter.
the worst part is that he can’t even blame you, and a part of him feels like this was for the best. he was stupid to hope for a peaceful domestic with two human civilians when he was a mutant through and through. still, his heart drops at the thought of your eyes looking at him with fear rather than the usual caring, gentle look that made him forget all of his pain.
there was more impending doom weighing on him as he stalked up the stairs than there ever was for certain death missions.
his hyper-sensitive hearing easily picked up the sound of a baby crying, one that he immediately recognized as your daughter’s. he slowed his pace to hear you trying desperately to calm her down.
“oh, oh, shh, i know, i know,” you sighed, “god, logan, please hurry back…” he practically ran when he heard that, bursting through the door and rushing into the nursery which was in the process of being turned into a proper bedroom. there were slight tears pricking at your eyes when you looked at him, “sorry, can you put her to sleep? s-she won’t stop crying…”
“it’s okay, it’s okay, i got it,” he assured, taking her off your hands and soothingly patting her on the back, “please stop crying, you’re breaking your momma’s heart.”
after a minute or so, her high-pitched wails gradually quieted down, falling asleep in his strong arms and allowing him to place her in her little bed which was newly constructed by him just a few days ago. you led him out of the room, being careful not to make any sudden noises so as to not wake her again, and returned to the living room where it all started.
“i’m sorry you had to do all that,” you groaned, placing a palm on your forehead in a poor attempt to ease the forming headache. “i really don’t know what i would have done without you…”
“don’t apologize, i’m happy to help… but i completely understand if you don’t want to see me ever again…” he wasn’t sure why he brought it up when you didn’t even say anything about it, but perhaps he wanted to get the inevitable over with because this conversation would have happened sooner or later.
“what? why would i never want to see you again when you just saved me from my ex?” you asked, genuinely confused as you moved to pour out two glasses of wine and plopped down onto the couch with your head thrown back. “is it because of the claws? i don’t really care about that stuff— i mean wade runs around with at least one knife and gun on him at all times. besides, it’s not like you can’t control them, they only came out because you were trying to protect me…”
“well, yes, but—”
“logan, i really don’t care that you’re a mutant or a former killer or whatever— you’re a superhero who runs around in yellow spandex, fights evil, and is the only one who can get my daughter to sleep most of the time— i trust you.”
“... you do?”
“of course, i do,” you reach out and motion him to join you, leaning against his frame and feeling all of your stress dissipate at the contact. “i trust you with my life and you’ll always have a home here, i want you to know that..”
logan was silent for a moment, trying to remember the last time he heard words along those lines. “i don’t know if you mean that…”
“of course, i do, why wouldn’t i? although…”
“although?”
“i… i don’t think i could handle being just friends for much longer.” you cringed at your own words, sounding like a fucking teenager who was confessing to her first love. something straight out of a cheesy romance movie, or as deadpool would say, straight out of a fanfiction written by a lonely teenager who is trying to move the plot along and finish up. “god, that was so stupid—”
“well, no one said we had to be ‘just friends.’”
you looked at him ludicrously, “really? do you mean that?”
“i mean… if you’re okay with an old man who has adamantium claws in his knuckles…”
“are you okay with a lady who’s a single mom?”
“i think mine is a lot worse than that. sweetheart,” he chuckled, returning to the light-hearted tone. “so… does that mean i can kiss you?”
you hummed, “of course, you can.”
even with your spoken consent, he still seemed a little hesitant when his hand found its way to the back of your head and he stared deeply into your eyes. his gaze was honestly a bit overwhelming since you’ve never seen anyone else look at you that way before, making you wonder if this was how to felt to be truly desired as a person.
you leaned forward to finish the kiss for him, a quick peck at first, then a deeper one that carried all of the bottled-up feelings from the previous few months. it wasn’t anything too crazy, yet it felt like your very first kiss all over again, clumsy and inexperienced. when you finally separated from him, you pressed your nose against his and giggled, “spend the night?”
“i thought you would never ask.”

tag list: @natsukitakama @fandomxo00 @wolflover-20 @dannsparrow @honestlysublimecherryblossom @acescutejeans-1247 @burkayyy @hotmesshobbit
#📜. her works#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#wolverine#wolverine x reader#deadpool and wolverine#x men#x men x reader#marvel#marvel x reader
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imagine with me, if you will, a nwh potential fix-it involving none other than the multiverse saving duo deadpool and wolverine.
i know, i know - but please, let me cook.
wade and logan now jump across timelines to "fix" things aka travel the multiverse for funsies and deal with the consequences later and somehow end up in a universe where peter parker doesn't exist, but spider-man does. and wade, blessed with the power of "i know this for the plot", immediately knows that is bull. shit. and sure enough, they find one very depressed, very lonely, and very jaded peter parker.
after much annoyance, light stalking, and following spider-man while he's on patrol, they get peter to spill how he ended up in this situation. and after hearing everything, logan breaks the silence with a simple, yet effective: "shit, kid. that... shit."
"yeah, well... now you know, so you can, like, leave me alone."
"nope, not gonna happen." wade shakes his head and tactfully ignores logan's imploring look of what-the-fuck-are-you-getting-us-into-now "i take my job as marvel jesus very, very seriously, so frankly, this is my job to fix your sorry little life, buddy. and if flat-out telling them you exist didn't work, then - "
"oh, i actually... i never told them."
"...come again?"
"i tried to tell them, but i couldn't. so..."
"i'm sorry... your best friend and girlfriend were crying, telling you to come find them and remind them of you, and you chose not to?"
"they're happy and safe without me! i wasn't going to ruin - "
"oh my god. you sweet, self sacrificial, idiot spider-baby. okay! we can fix this! we're no tony stark, but consider us your pseudo daddies for the time being, kid. let's get you your life back."
which is how one very emotional and determined deadpool, followed by a stoic, nonchalant wolverine (who, in all honesty, probably should be completely against this, but once wade commits to something, he can't be talked out of it, and the sooner he gets his fix from this the sooner he can go home, so fuck it we ball), end up in a certain cafe, all up in a poor barista and her friend's face with a cut-out yearbook photo of some kid, yelling "LOOK AT HIM! LOOK AT THIS BOY! HE'S SO LONELY! LIKE A SMALL, FORLORN, VICTORIAN CHILD! REMEMBER HIM, GODDAMMIT!"
(their efforts result in two confused and scared teens, and getting kicked out of said cafe.)
peter practically begs them to just leave him alone, that this was his choice, and he's fine with it, but both wade and logan know a lie when they hear one. they both know what being alone can do to a person, and peter is just a kid who got dealt the shittiest cards in life and at this point, it just feels wrong to leave him here without trying to do something. and maybe they both have a small soft spot for the teen, so what?
and peter knows both men can see through his broody, teenage angst front he's been putting up since the spell, and he's tried so hard to hate the two of them, get them to hate him so they would leave, but they're not budging, so really, there's no point in trying to push them away, right?
and so, he lets them in. he learns that while logan is stoic and intense and kinda terrifying, he's also someone who just wants to do the right thing for the people he cares about. he's also lost people, and he blames himself, but he's come out on the other side. he would tell peter about his daughter, laura, who wouldn't let him wallow in self pity because she is good, better than he has ever been. he never saw himself as a father, but she's still around, so he must be doing alright.
and at first hearing it would result in a pang in his chest, memories of thai food after walking into a smoke-filled kitchen, assurances that things will work out when everything feels hopeless, a tombstone that can never convey everything she was, but now... it's nice to hear that logan still had someone after losing everyone.
so, peter listens to logan's stories. in return, peter tells logan all about his mom.
and wade was brash and loud and conceded and really, really annoying, but he's... no, that's it. he's all of those things, but in a weird way, it's like all those bad qualities merge together to make him a good guy. and yeah, he can walk away at any point, he has absolutely no obligation to help peter, but he does it anyway.
("nonono, don't you dare make me some selfless hero type, kid. i know for a fact that every deadpool has a peter. i'm doing this for the me in your world."
"you're... huh?"
"bottom line, i'm a selfish bastard. i'm doing this for me, 'kay?")
peter didn't fight it. he's had experience with seemingly self-absorbed, deflecting type heroes.
wade doesn't replace him, not even close, but... still.
maybe peter will never get back what he lost. but, for the first time, peter sees a light at the end of the tunnel. that, maybe, he can stop being just spider-man, and he can start being peter parker again, too.
(and if there's a barista talking to her friend about how it's weird that two guys would show up holding a photo of an odd customer from weeks ago, demanding they remember him, and despite not knowing him she felt something, and her friend couldn't help but agree, well... that's neither here nor there.)
#basically two friends of mine had brought up this concept to me in separate instances and now i cannot stop thinking about it#i IMPLORE you to take this... write this... do what you will.#it's free real estate!#my own personal marvel what if...? episode if you will#spider-man#deadpool & wolverine#mcu#deadpool#deadpool and wolverine#spiderman#nwh#no way home#spider man#marvel#marvel cinematic universe#spider-man au#deadpool & wolverine au#mcu au#mcu fic idea#ela word vomits!#ela posts!#mcu spider-man#mcu spider man#spiderman mcu#spider man mcu#peter parker#peter parker needs a hug#wade wilson#logan howlett#poolverine
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