#i really like the snapping laura does

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

posting this purely as propaganda

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ it's a gift (you keep those) ]❜

ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ giving him a plushie that reminded you of him┊1k words

setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: fluff, crushes, probably ooc but he’s so cute & wade is hard to write for, written for dp&w logan so idk if he got gifts in xmen, i forgot about laura, they are in touch and have a wonderful father-daughter relationship, i’m so sorry, edited

➤ author's note: i have so many thoughts but too incompetent to write

logan’s never sure who will appear when he opens the door as wade’s quite the extrovert, either vanessa or one of his many other friends whom he’s now become somewhat acquainted with, but he certainly wasn’t expecting to meet the familiar eyes of the cute neighbor who lived a few doors down. he nervously scratched the back of his head, suddenly becoming aware of his shabby appearance, “uh, are you looking for wade?”

“no, i was actually looking for you!” god, your smile is so bright, it’s blinding. he normally hates perfume of any sort as it’s so overpowering to his heightened senses, but the one that you wore smelled so lovely like always. is that a new shade of lip gloss you’re wearing? it really suits you. (why on earth is he noticing all of these details out of the blue? he needs to snap out of whatever spell you put on him after being introduced when he first showed up and only interacting in passing since then).

“looking for me?” he repeated, in disbelief, trying his best not to allow his surprise to slip into his voice. considering he isn’t from this dimension and not the most agreeable person to be around, he had no friends of his own yet and hasn’t been visited by anyone since he got here. a beat of panic struck him, thinking that he was in trouble for something and you came to complain. he really couldn’t think of any other reason you were here for him even though you were so cheerful.

you were carrying some shopping bags with you, dropping them on the ground before reaching into one and pulling out a large fuzzy plushie of a gray cat hidden under layers of glittery tissue paper, “i saw this cutie when i went shopping with my friends and thought it looked like you!” you held it out for him to take, looking so proud of the stuffed animal.

he hesitated for a second before accepting it, trying to take in the fact that you were reminded of him in your day-to-day life. it made his heart flutter, and he found himself dumbfounded by the feeling. he was frequently teased by his roomate about his little “crush” on you, claiming that it was oh so obvious and that the sooner he accepted it, the better, but he never realized until now how pathetic he was when it came to you. was the wolverine really getting butterflies like a fucking schoolgirl in his old-ass age? thank god no one was home right now to bully him about it, he would never hear the end of it.

“it does not look like me,” he scoffed playfully after a quick examination.

“no, it definitely does! it’s a big, grumpy kitty—” you took a step closer to hold it with him, pointing at all the similarities you observed, although it was clear you were exaggerating for laughs. “see the little frowny face and ears? it could be your identical twin separated from birth! willy mentioned that you act like a cat most of the time, and i think it fits perfectly!”

the smile he didn’t realize was plastered on his face faltered at the last piece of information, grateful that you didn’t notice. that idiot has been talking about him to you? he might as well forget about any chance of getting with you, because knowing how he yaps without a filter and loves to play matchmaker, you probably think he’s a freak of some sort. “only good things, i hope…”

you giggled, the sweetest sound he ever heard. “of course, he’s really fond of you… well, maybe a bit too fond, but you already know about that!” you opened your mouth to continue the conversation or say something else, but your phone started ringing and you excused yourself, looking a little shy as you grabbed up your bags. “i’ll talk to you later!” you sounded so excited about the prospect of it before leaving, your voice and footsteps becoming fainter as you walked back to your place.

“wait, you didn’t take back the cat—”

“it’s a gift! you keep those!”

“oh… right…”

he lingered for a moment, unable to say much in response since you left in such a rush. when was the last time someone gave him a present? staring at this brand new item, he still couldn’t see the resemblance in any way, but knowing that it was a gift from you gave him a rare feeling of happiness which returned every time he looked at it from then on among his few possessions. 

“oh my goodness, what is this adorable thing?!” wade exclaimed when he saw it sitting on the couch where logan slept, picking it up to gawk at before tossing it up in the air and catching it before it hit the floor. “ooh, let me guess, it’s a gift from her, isn’t it?” 

the mutant groaned at his mocking tone. “put it down before you ruin it with your grubby hands,” he commanded, snatching it from his grasp (rough enough to make his point clear, but carefully enough not to tear it apart). his roommate didn’t even bother pretending to be offended like he usually would as he was simply overjoyed that his “ship” was coming true. “it doesn’t mean anything, don’t make it weird.”

“it doesn’t mean anything?! how can you say that when it’s going to be the first gift you give to your first child together—”

“first what??”

“nevermind, what are you gonna name it?”

“i have to name it?”

“have you never owned a stuffed animal before? you have to name it! how heartbroken is she going to be when she asks what you named it and you say that you haven’t done that?! she’s gonna think that you don’t value her gifts!” you would think the world was going to end if he didn’t do so if you heard the way he was speaking.

“fine, i’ll name it…” he looked deeply into the toy’s soulless eyes, noting how soft the outer material was against his calloused hand, “... fluffy…”

“that’s such a shitty name—”

“shut the fuck up, it’s been decided.”

[hedwig221b]

Kinda a two part question? Do you have supernatural Stiles recs? (really craving mermaid stuff but all kinds is very loved) and have you thought of writing supernatural Stiles?

and anon asked:

Do you by chance have any creature Stiles or mermaid recommendations? Thank you so much for helping us find stories to read and for writing such wonderful stories!

First of all, thank you! Secondly, to the first anon: I do have a supernatural!Stiles fic, it's called Predators and it's one of my best fics 🖤 I do plan on writing oracle!Stiles, but otherwise, no. Maybe, in the future, I am open to the idea!

So, here are the recs (including merman!Stiles 🧜🏽‍♂️)

Predators (creature!Stiles)

He was born for this. Nature itself whispered into his ear where he should put his hands, how to twirl his tongue just right and when to bite. Stiles knew well enough that his saliva was currently working its magic on this unfortunate man, making him hungry, lustful, and insatiable. Soon, all his thoughts would be consumed by Stiles.

And, just this once, Stiles would allow Derek to consume him.

Sui Tollech Gwanna Tach Omen by jackgyeoms (mer!Stiles)

Mermaid AU. Stiles was five when he first realised that not everybody grew a tail when they entered water.

No Oceans Left by zoemathemata (mer!Stiles)

Stiles has always been a merman. He just never knew how to tell anyone. He hasn’t shifted since his mom died.

It’s A-Boat Time! by Fae_vorite, isthatbloodonhisshirt (mer!Stiles)

He could hear the others talking outside, Scott and Isaac freaking out over something and Stiles snapping at them to shut up and help him get inside.

“Dude, how the fuck can you expect me to stay calm right now! Seriously, that’s a fucking tail!”

“We can talk about it later, just get me inside before someone fucking sees me! I don’t want to end up in a fucking aquarium!”

“Christ, you’re heavy!” Isaac grunted. “How much does this thing weigh?!”

“Shut up and walk,” Stiles snapped.

The Shells at the bottom of the Sea (mer!Stiles)

The one where Stiles is a seal merman trying to fit in with the sharks.

Mermaider by nothing_left_sacred (mer!Stiles)

“So what you’re saying is; you’re a mermaid princess.” Erica concluded.

“Yes, clearly. That is what I am saying. Thank you for putting it so concisely.” Stiles sassed, frowning at her. He wasn’t fucking Ariel; this was so far from being a Disney movie it wasn't even funny.

Or the one where a perfectly normal Beach Vacation escalates way too quickly, because this is Stiles' life.

Somewhere to Start by Lissadiane (fae!Stiles)

Stiles has always known that he isn't quite human - the plant life that tends to sprout around him whenever he gets upset or excited gives it away. He's never really fit in among the regular people in Beacon Hills and is determined to wait it out, go to college, and find somewhere to belong. He's forced to abandon those plans, however, after he desperately agrees to enter into an arranged marriage to save his father's life.

An arranged marriage with an angry, sometimes furry dude with trust issues. It's all very Beauty and the Beast, without the singing candlesticks.

The Last Chills of Winter by LeeHan (fae!Stiles)

“He didn’t magically charm me,” Derek shot back in his defense.

“Oh, so he just regular charmed you?” Laura said with a smirk.

“What? No,” Derek growled.

“Was he hot?”

“No! He just—“ He just had a laugh like a sun shower.

Fuck.

Faith, Trust, And Pixie Dust by Val_Brown (fae!Stiles)

Since he was a baby he had kept it a secret. Something that he shared with his mom. But when something comes after him and attacks his pack, he has to share his secret with them. He knows they won't judge him, hello, they sprout claws, fangs and some wicked sideburns. But he changes to the size of a gerbil and has wings and pretty much farts pixies dust on everything.

Using his new alliance with Peter, Stiles charges in, pixie dust flying to rescue his pack when they are captured by renegade hunters with a strange vendetta.

Bite the Moonlight & Bleed Gold by raisesomehale (creature!Stiles)

He waits until he and Allison are the only two left in the room. “This is a joke.”

Allison says, “Have you ever known my grandpa to have a sense of humor?”

“Really?” Derek’s eyebrows are halfway up his forehead, as he gestures to the word that has been printed under Creature Type on the paper. “‘A Merman’? They’re a myth. No one has ever seen one, let alone caught one.”

Allison leans forward to skim through a few pages and draws out a photo that she sets back down on the paragraph he’d been reading. In it, a marble white ribcage crests the dark, prussian blue of a midnight ocean, the only part of the body visible besides a thrashing, predominantly red tail, curved jaggedly through the waves.

“This image was lifted from Deucalion’s personal channels,” Allison tells him. “His people are keeping the discovery all hush hush, which means they managed the photo, but probably haven’t captured the thing itself yet.” She gives Derek a significant look, “Gerard wants us to get our hands on it first.”

a dying breed that still believes by paxlux (wingfic)

He thinks, Mom, we can do this, we’ll fly.

Hot Pocket Ratio by ShippersList (incubus!Stiles)

At the threat of the alpha pack, all Derek wants is to keep his pack safe and alive. As the last resort, he tries summoning a demon to help with fighting the alpha pack. He gets a bit more than he bargained for.

Or, the story where the classic demon deal of "Will you pledge your firstborn to me?" takes some unexpected turns.

There’s A Beast In My Heart (He’ll Only Bow To You) by RayShippouUchiha (creature!Stiles)

“Stiles.” Derek fucking whimpers and if Stiles wasn’t already dying he’d kill himself for making Derek sound so hurt. Stiles just wants to protect him so much sometimes because no one else ever seems to realize that Derek is so goddamn fragile and Stiles hates them all a little bit for not being able to see that. Or In an effort to expel the Nogitsune Stiles is given the bite but it all goes horribly wrong.

A Most Unusual Hoard by churkey (dragon!Stiles)

Stiles turns into a dragon and no one can figure out what he's hoarding…

My Childhood Spat Back Out The Monster That You See by rightsidethru (demon!Stiles)

Appearances can be deceiving.

Caught by hunters, Derek immediately dismisses his gangly, fellow prisoner as a pressing concern.

After all, the amber-eyed teenager couldn't be more than one hundred and forty-seven pounds soaking wet. What type of threat could he possibly be?

(The answer: a large one.)

9/10ths of the Law by tsukinofaerii (demon!Stiles)

Stiles discovers the hazards of growing up a real boy when, at heart, he's not a real boy at all.

You Were Never Meant to Know by Mooneye (demon!Stiles)

“Not a fan of exorcisms, Stiles?” the figure asked as though he were enquiring about the rain.

“Not really. I could spew black bile if you’d like more authenticity,” Stiles answered.

“Stiles, what’s going on?” Scott demanded, unease growing.

Stiles is a demon, always has been, and never intended for anyone to know. Unfortunately, his secret is forcefully revealed and he has nowhere to hide.

Blodrød by Onlymystory (demon!Stiles)

A demon possessing Alpha werewolves leads a crazed pack to Beacon Hills. He's been stuck inside werewolf minds, when all he wants is a nice human meatsuit. Humans in packs are rare these days and the demon is practically salivating at the thought of possessing Stiles. It's strong, and the pack was taken off guard, unable to protect Stiles before the demon takes control.

But like the demon says…humans in packs are rare.

Blackbird by skoosiepants (shapeshifter!Stiles)

Stiles groans and drops his face into his hands. “I’m seventeen, I can kind of use mountain ash and I can explode houses when I’m mad enough. How am I gonna win any kind of magic fight?”

“We’ll work on it,” Deaton says, as infuriatingly calm as ever. “The important thing to remember, Stiles, is that when everything else is chaos, you’re the port in the storm.”

Or-

Laura Hale never died, and Stiles is magic.

Other fic recs: pack mom!Stiles | angsty fics | historical AU | baby/mpreg | outsider POV | possessive Derek | smut | hurt/comfort | Stiles gets kicked out of the pack | mafia | BAMF!Stiles | omegaverse | witch!Stiles | bad friend Scott | magical!Stiles

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

teasing/testing/kissing 🥵 the devil request for lovely anon it's a short one, sorry about that! this heat's killing me. i might revisit this at some point. thank you so much once again laura for all of your help, advice and encouragement ❤️

Read on AO3

-

So dangerous it was to tease a devil, like holding your hand out near a hungry lion’s mouth. At some point he’d snatch out, faster than she could pull back, and the game would be over – but until then, Tav couldn’t deny the rush she experienced each time she denied him, each time she slipped away just as his claws were about to sink into her soft mortal flesh. The frustration, the intrigue that alighted his clever eyes and tensed his handsome shadowed jaw, were delicious treats she shamelessly feasted on. Holding any semblance of power over a creature like Raphael was addicting. To know he desired her the way she desired him was enough to make her toes curl in her boots.

The more he pulled, the more she pushed. At first it was light, easy. Heated glances shared, a flirty word here or there from a naturally charismatic charmer who liked to talk; words that she would return, equally blasé, equally sultry. To let him know she was interested. That she wanted to play. It was fun. Thrilling. Ah, but she was fanning the embers of a roaring inferno in her passionate devil, and she simply couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to stop.

“Have a drink with me,” he began to ask, to challenge. She wouldn’t be baited.

“Maybe some other time,” she’d say, all faux regret and longing, dissolving into the fog of day-to-day before he could ensnare her, wolf and doe.

She began to see more of him. Raphael wedged himself into her life in spaces she didn’t know existed, always smouldering with the want she’d stoked, always challenging. Tempting, same as she. Push me a little further, sweet thing, his dark gaze promised, and find out what I’ll do.

As it turned out, steal her away to the Hells where she couldn’t escape him was what he’d do. A snap of his fingers after one nudge too far – really, all she did was blow a kiss, hardly cause for kidnapping – and she was in the House of Hope. Nowhere to escape. To be devoured at last.

“You’ve played with fire without consequence for far too long, little mouse,” the devil purred. Crowded her. They were in his personal chambers, she thought. Subtle. “I think it’s time you got burned.”

“I’m fireproof,” Tav declared, arms crossed.

“Are you now? Hmm…I think we should test that claim, shouldn’t we?” He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. His touch lingered, the rough pads of his fingertips hot. He was savouring the sensation of her blood risen beneath her skin by her flush, his eyes intense, a little twitch of amusement in his expression. He dragged his thumb across her lower lip, pulled it a little.

“Yes, we should,” Tav breathed. She was entranced by him. Enchanted. She couldn’t help it. He smelled like fire, smoke, cherries. She couldn’t stop looking at his pretty mouth, twisted into a smirk. How the tables had turned.

“How should we test it?”

“Kiss me,” Tav murmured. Raphael chuckled, a deep and raspy sound that gave Tav goosebumps. His glinting, arresting brown eyes became half-lidded with satisfaction.

“Given your recent behaviour, I don’t think you deserve it,” he crooned, petting at her cheeks like she were a sweet pup. He relished in her brief outrage, frustration, but it didn’t last. She was too sly.

“Well, then. I suppose you’ll never know if my claim was true, will you?” She hummed. Looking up at him. Their faces so close their breaths mingled. “And don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy the game. I thought you devils liked a chase. Unless those things you said about preferring it when clients put up a fight was all talk…”

“Impertinent chit,” he growled without venom.

“Got under your skin though, didn’t I?” Tav said smugly.

“Hardly,” Raphael scoffed. Tav’s smile turned a little mean.

“Then it won’t matter to you if, say…I kiss Haarlep instead, will it?”

“You will do no such thing.” This time Raphael’s snarl was sharp. He gripped her jaw tight, his ring and pinky fingers teasing the column of her throat. She gasped as he nuzzled beneath her ear, spoke directly into it. The scratch of his stubble felt so good. “How comfortable you are with me…such a lack of respect. I wonder, what should I do about it…?”

“Fucking kiss me already,” Tav snapped breathlessly. At last, the devil acquiesced – or at least with what he considered a kiss. Even he couldn’t deny their magnetism forever.

He bit at her. Sank his teeth into her plump bottom lip, sucked it into the humid cavern of his mouth to taste the tiny beads of blood he drew. Tav groaned, grabbed fistfuls of his coat. He still held her jaw, controlled the pace of his “kiss”, but Tav was never one to lay down and take it. She bit him right back, licked at his silky thin lips, lingered in their corners to push her gasps behind his teeth and make him feel them in his throat. In his lungs. Their mouths joined in a proper kiss, and this time Tav greedily swallowed Raphael’s throaty grunt. He kissed the same way he bit: hard, consuming, selfish. Tav couldn’t get enough. One hand abandoned its place on his chest and slid up the back of his neck. She sank her fingers into his lush hair, gripped his locks and tugged. He pressed her against the wall, overwhelmed her with the squash of his body. She could tell how he felt about each indulgent pull of his dark roots by the stiffness nudging against her belly, how his hips jerked with every tug. A pleasant squeeze of arousal settled in her gut. So damn good. Eventually they peeled apart, both breathing heavy.

“So,” Tav panted. The tips of their noses brushed. She yanked his hair again just to make him shudder, so she could watch the expansion of his pupils, the pleasure on his face. “Proof enough for you yet?”

The devil’s grin held a fleeting hint of fangs. “Not even close.”

[dawnisdreamlanding]

CHAPTER 1

Ghost x Reader x Konig

(Neighbour!au and Roommate!au cause I can't get enough of them hehe)

Also like for this fic just don't mind how this would actually never happen in real life + don't think too much about the logic in this story. It's all purely fictional and for your entertainment :)

You want to go home.

Your apartment keys jingle as they hang from your fingers. Room 409. You sigh. It’s been a long day, to say the least. All you want to do is to just relax and unwind like you would any other Friday with a glass of wine and that dumpster fire of a Netflix show that is ‘Emily in Paris’. You let out another long sigh waiting for the elevator to reach the lobby. At least Emily lives a much more exciting and drama-filled life than you did with your 9 to 5 job.

You stare at your feet, trying to find something to pass the time that seems to drag on for forever. Your feet are already killing you from your high heels that you’ve been wearing for over 9 hours. Usually, you would be home by 7 — it’s 11 — especially on a Friday. Laura, a close coworker of yours went on pregnancy leave, meaning you’re working more hours to cover her absence.

Your phone buzzes with a reminder from your calendar app — oh great, it’s already 12. ‘RENT PAYMENT DUE IN A WEEK.’ You haven’t found a roommate to occupy that extra bedroom in your apartment even after 2 months of your listing being put online. Granted, you should’ve started looking for a new roommate the moment your previous one told you they were moving out, but you were too busy for that! You tap your foot impatiently. How long does it take for an elevator to travel up 2 floors from the carpark to the lobby?

The elevator doors open with a ‘ding!’ and you’re met with the giant of a man that is this mysterious guy wearing all black. His brown hair and matching brown eyes make him dashing and the scars littering on his face adds on to his good looks somehow. “’s rude to stare, love.” His gruff voice snaps you out of it. “R-right, sorry.” To say he was intimidating was an understatement, but god was he good looking.

When you’re both in the elevator, the usual smell of the clean, bleached scent is replaced with the smell of cigarettes and an undertone of gunpowder? Whatever it is, you much prefer it over the smell of bleach you’ve been used to for months. The elevator ride is silent and you both get off the same floor to go our separate ways… except he was following you!

You get a little bit nervous as anyone would if a tall, maybe 190cm buff guy was following you a few steps behind. “What apartment you in?” You say with panic filling your body with each step. Oh god, you don’t wanna die yet! “410.” He responds. “Oh.” Well, that makes more sense.

“I’m your neighbor then! Nice to meet you.” You smile and introduce yourself. He hums in response. “Simon Riley.” He says, nodding at you in acknowledgement. You would like to chat with this guy more, but he doesn’t strike you as talkative, as if his short replies didn’t already tell you that.

You both turn the locks on your own apartment doors. “Next time, you should really run if you think you’re in danger.” He chuckles a little to himself. You turn to look at him in shock, only to find he’s already disappeared into his apartment. So he did know! Asshole. You shake your head and enter your own apartment.

After showering, you scroll your phone on Instagram mindlessly when a notification pops up on your phone. Oh my god, someone responded to your listing! You waste no time in responding to them, despite it being ass-o-clock. You arrange to meet up with them in the afternoon, and you head to sleep hoping whoever this guy is will be a good roommate for you.

When you wake up, you’re a little behind schedule. Scrap that, VERY behind schedule. You haven’t cleaned up the apartment and made it presentable to your possible roommate yet, and you’re gonna meet him in 20 minutes downstairs! You hurriedly stuff all the clothes you find lying around in the living room into your own bedroom and clean the kitchen counters — you know the drill.

As soon as you’re done arranging the last piece of furniture in the living room, you rush out of the door, bumping into that neighbor you met last night. You give him a quick, “Morning, Simon!” before rushing past him, not even giving him time to greet you back.

Somehow by the grace of god, you’re right on time to meet the guy. You agree to meet him at the café right across your apartment complex, and holy fuck. There’s no way this 2 meter guy is your roommate. You both stare at each other awkwardly before you decide to go up to him. “Konig?” I say, and he nods. Oh he is.

[ramblingautisticman]

As it's kinktober, naturally, I have seen some things. It's inevitable. While I try to avoid reading the actual smut (I am way to asexual for that shit but to everyone who writes it, well done, your stronger than me), I see the titles and promts, and one made my lil autistic brain start churning- weirdly about Wade and the PTSD he would have from the torture. Also some fluff with Logan- you deserve it.

I don't think Wade would like being choked or choking? At all. It reminds him way too much of the oxygen deprivation tank he had to stay in. And it isn't even always in a sexual way- any time something is too tight over his mouth or too close to his neck- he freaks out and starts panicking because the idea of not being able to breath again is terrifying to him. He doesn't go swimming because he can't stand the idea of holding his breath. So when Dopinder suggest all of them go swimming for Laura's birthday (she has never been to a beach or swam before) he shuts the idea down so fast that everyone takes a second to just stare at him before continuing with other suggestions. He also refuses to ever choke anyone else. Whether it's in bed or killing- he knows that feeling so intimately that he doesn't want anyone else to feel that kind of pain or panic- even if they deserve it.

Wade is also extremely afraid of small spaces. He hates them. They remind him too much of the chamber. Logan tries to get him to go inbetween the couch and the wall to try to get the TV remote one time, only for Wade to shut down at the very idea, leaving a very confused Logan to do it himself before Wade snaps back to normal.

He hates belts and refuses to touch them because they feel like the restraints they used. Anything leather really- it feels too similar. It makes his wrists and ankles ache, and suddenly it feels like something is around his neck. So he avoids it at all costs. He doesn't touch Logan's leather jacket- avoids him whenever he is wearing it and never dares move it from where it's been thrown down- and when Logan mentions it he brushes it off. Tells him "Its so old that I'm afraid it will turn to dust if I touch it."

And Logan notices, obviously. He notices how Wade avoids touching leather, he notices how Wade freezes up at the idea of being in a tight space, he notices how Wade hates the idea of swimming. Expect, he doesn't know why. Wade has never shown any fear for water, so why does he not want to swim? He is fine sitting against Logan while he is wearing his leather jacket, but only if Wade is wearing a thick hoodie, so he doesn't like the texture maybe? The only thing he understands is the tight spaces. Some people are clostraphobic, he gets that. The other two though? They confuse him for ages. For awhile, anyway.

One day Wade breaks down- too many reminders and one bad nightmare later- Wade tells him about the cancer and the torture and everything in-between, and suddenly Logan gets it. He hates swimming because you need to hold your breath. It's why Wade likes baths over showers. More control. He hates leather because it reminds him of being tied down. That's why all his belts are fabric, even if they look like leather. That's why he avoids touching Logans jacket with his skin. He hates small spaces because he was practically killed again and again in a fucking tube. Who wouldn't be scared of small spaces after that?

So Logan takes the time to make sure he remembers these things. Trys to accommodate as best as he can. Never suggests something that might mean Wade needs to hold his breath or have something close to his neck. Gets a different jacket to wear, throwing the other one in the very back of the closet. Makes sure that if there is ever a small space they need to get too, Logan goes and does it without asking.

Wade only notices when he drops the TV remote down the back of the couch AGAIN, and Logan quickly grabs it and places it back in his hand, a worried look on his face.

[godsopenwound]

When I first began watching horror, I was drawn in by the display of appetite—specifically female appetite—in all its forms: not only the way Rosemary slices into her steak, but also the way Ginger Fitzgerald begins eating human flesh in Ginger Snaps (2000), her eyes a disturbing jolt of light; the way Justine tears into uncooked chicken with her teeth in Raw (2016); the way Rose and Iris Parker steadily eat their father’s body at the dining table in We Are What We Are (2013), the remake of the 2010 Mexican film Somos lo que hay.

Food-based metaphor in horror is so often visceral and tacky and overwrought, so why does our delight still stand? As a woman, to say that you have found eating uncomfortable at times is not particularly groundbreaking. The anxiety has become mundane because it is so common for women, but isn’t that in itself noteworthy? Horror invites us to sit with this disgust, this anxiety, to acknowledge our appetite, to refuse to let us suppress it. There is something uncomfortable and enthralling about watching a woman devour what she likes with intent. It was the kind of eating I longed for. I looked on with jealousy, with desire, with newly-found resolve.

When I began watching horror regularly, I found its relationship with food satisfying because it often spoke to those dual desires at once: hunger and disgust. It was the same split sensation I had seeing Rosemary plunge into the steak with a fork. I was disgusted, but the disgust arrived with the ignition of my own appetite. The task was to let the hunger override the disgust. To let appetite overwrite the shame.

And, really, wasn’t my shame at eating alone about the shame of being witnessed, being caught desiring, too? To be witnessed wanting, and then to witness the capacity of your own appetite.

What if you allowed yourself to want what you want? What wonderful, terrifying things would happen then? There are dual horrors here: the horror of recognizing your capacity for desire in another person, and where it can drive you—and the horror of being observed in this primal state, unedited and unfiltered, acting on what you want.

— Laura Maw, There’s Nothing Scarier Than a Hungry Woman

[tremendouscreationperson]

Logan x Reader pt.13

So my mate and I took my little brother out and he was like guys can we watch Deadpool/Wolverine so I watched it a fucking 3rd time

Upon my 3rd time watching I'm disappointed that Origins!Wade/Deadpool wasnt with the Deadpool core

And also I've realised how much dialogue I've like messed up 🤣🤣 thank y'all for sticking with me for chapters 1-3, if I ever post this on AO3 I'll have to spend years editing

This is like a part 1 of 2, the chapter was getting really long sorry

<<Part 12 Part 14>> Masterlist

The phone buzzed next to your head causing you to jolt upright.

You grumbled, eyes half open, patting the bed in hopes to stop the infernal noise.

It was your alarm, the one you had set to get up and go. Only you had set it when you didn't have to spend half the night rearranging your room.

“Morning sunshine.” Logan's voice made you turn. Where was he? He was normally right next t- right. He wasn't here. He was heading towards Nebraska.

“Logan?” You muttered, eyes barely blinking open.

“Hello baby.” He purred.

“Hi.” You smiled, God, his voice could just ease you back to sleep.

“It's pretty early for you to be up.” There was the tiniest echo to him.

“Where are you?” You pulled the phone closer, clearing the morning voice out of your throat.

“On route.” He revved the engine.

“Y-you're on your bike?” You squeaked. “Logan! That's dangerous!”

“It's fine, bub. You're on Bluetooth.”

“It's too early for me to even begin to learn what that is.”

He chuckled, the noise warning your chest. “You're fucking cute.”

“No, you're fucking cute.”

“Mm, wish I was.” He drawled, you could picture the smirk on his face.

Eventually you heaved yourself up and dragged your feet over to the drawers. Pulling out a suitable outfit. Some cycling shorts and a large shirt, no one would know it was Logan's but you.

You contemplated putting a bra on but you really couldn't be bothered with it, spending years in the Void with a broken one - snapped wires were a menace - you had grown accustomed to wearing what essentially was a sports bra so now as you looked at the padded cups they felt stuffy. The shirt was a thicker material - you think it was maybe loungewear? - it had long sleeves and a loose neckline where Logan had worn it.

Your hair was washed yesterday in preparation for today, wanting to look your best, so you didn't have to worry about looking scruffy. No, you looked comfortable.

You were put together well enough and when you looked in the bathroom mirror it was an outfit you would see other women wearing. Not that you cared. Maybe a little bit.

You stuffed your feet into some trainers, seriously debating sliders - you had thought socks and sandals were a big no no but the kids these days loved them - but decided on the trainers in case you needed to run. Preparing for some issue or display or anything.

You chucked your half full backpack over your shoulder, tossing a phone charger into it, and went to find the others.

As you opened the door Blade’s back was leaning against the frame.

“Fuck me!” You jumped, hand over heart. “Blade, you're actually going to kill me one day.”

He hummed. “Why has your bitch ass husband stolen my bike?”

“I did tell him not to.” You shut the door behind yourself.

“Mother fucker has a bike.” He tutted. “Ain't as pretty as mine.”

“Blade, I am sorry, I-” You shrugged, having no clue what to say. “He's an ass.”

“If he scratches it…”

“If he does, you have my permission to fight him.” Mock knighting him as you said 'permission'.

He laughed lowly. “We did fight once. Ended up on the same side. He gave me his coat.”

“Who were you fighting?”

“Some bloodsucker. Had an M name.”

Blade hadn't told you that. He hadn't mentioned he had once known a Wolverine. Not even when you had cried on his shoulder as Laura joined your party. You had mourned her, as well as the rest of your family, so seeing her alive and well really did mess with your psyche.

Laura's door opened to your left and she let out a surprised sound. “I was coming to see if you were awake.”

“Me and uncle Blade were just talking.”

“Anything interesting?” Her pupils fluttered between the two of you.

“A wolverine gave him a coat.” You repeated. “I didn't know he had met one.”

She crossed her arms. “Me neither.”

“I don't jabber like you.” He winked, a sly smile revealing his fangs.

You rolled your eyes and passed the man to knock at Gambit's door.

“Why are you up?” Laura asked Blade just in your earshot.

“Wanted to see you off.” He patted her shoulder. “Seeing less of you nowadays.”

She wormed her way into hugging him, not that he really resisted, and squeezed him. “It's strange being here.”

“I know.”

You wish you hadn't knocked at Gambit's door because the fucker opened it pulling your attention from them. “‘ey.” He nodded at you. “Who' ready for some drivin’?” Gambit ruffled your hair and shot passed you to the others. “Didn’ kno’ you'ere comin’.”

“I'm not.” Blade informed.

Gambit shrugged and tugged at Laura, “C’mon!”

You all trotted towards Logan's Jeep and climbed in. Your baby had the back row to herself and she had been clever enough to pack a small pillow in her bag.

Laura was wearing a Megadeth tee on top of a long sleeve with a pair of jeans. Gambit had opted for jeans as well but his seemed to be intentionally low waist. He'd paired it with a shirt that you're sure he had done a DIY crop job on.

All in all none of you looked like you were going to the same place but you looked good and you all felt comfy, all were able to decide what to wear. Not forced into the same outfit day in and day out. Laundry day in the Void was hilarious.

Everyone - bar Laura of course - had seen everyone else naked. You remember Magneto scoffing at yourself, Johnny and Gambit for sitting playing checkers in practically nothing, the odd sock and a ratty old shirt for modesty.

Y/N: setting off now x

You knew Logan would want to know so as Blade tapped the side of the car and Gambit pulled away from the curb you sent the text.

Your phone was sitting on your lap, Waze telling him where to go interrupting your playlist.

The Killers were your newest conquest. They were brilliant. You loved everything they performed, so dancy and fun!

Waze instructed you to get onto the highway you and Logan had had your hot steamy car sex and you had to fight the blush. If you were anywhere else people could've spotted you, well, they probably saw your car rocking… could you get a ticket for public indecency if they didn't have actual proof?

What if the car rocking was on camera?

“She's ‘sleep.” Gambit whispered next to you.

You turned back to see Laura spread out, sparko. “I hope she has fun at the Mansion.”

“Why wouldn' she?” He flicked the blinker on.

“I dunno, she hasn't been there.”

“Neither, chere.”

Gambit merged.

“Well, I know she had herself a Charles, I know he died in front of her. And yeah she's seen the one here for a millisecond, she had him look into her mind, but that's different. This will be informal, this will be- oh, I don't know.”

“You jus’ ‘ave to let things be things.” He shrugged. “You're worrying for her, when you don't need to. She strong. If she need you, she'll ask.”

You let that sit with you. He was right of course. She was tough and she would ask but since your little incident you were worried she had taken a step back. “It's just hard. We've lost so many people, I want to keep you all safe.”

“No such thing as safe.”

Again he was right. Say, right now, someone could have a brain aneurysm and crash their car into yours. There was literally no such thing as safe in a world of ever increasing variables. You, even, still entertained the notion that this was Cassandra toying with you.

“I don't think people give you enough credit, Remy.”

He chuckled. “Yo’ kno’ it serious when you use're my name.”

You laughed with him.

~~

The mansion came into view and you felt a nervous twinge in your stomach. “Laura baby.” You nudged her knee.

The girl cracked an eye and realised where you guys were. “We're here?”

“Yeah, love.”

She sat up and eagerly undone her belt.

“Laura, Gambit, this is the X-Mansion.”

The building was the same, there were slight differences in the foliage but it was eerie how exact everything was. You could see Colossus was standing like a statue at the door to greet you.

Gambit pulled up in front to the entry stairs.

He turned the car off and you all exited.

“Y/N, Laura, Remy.” Colossus greeted in kind. “Welcome, welcome.”

The three of you trotted up the stairs and into the front doors.

Fuck me, even the chandelier had it's one flickering bulb. This was your mansion. Your home. Your sanctuary.

//

“You needn't fear, Miss L/N.” Charles spoke above your head to your mother. “Y/N will be safe here.”

You could hear giggling to the left, giggling and stomping. There were kids having fun. Craning your neck you could see one kid floating mid air whilst the other had their hands extended.

They were using their powers… they were allowed to use their powers.

“Hey.” A feminine voice caught your attention. It was a young girl - a year or so older than you, maybe seventeen? - with bouncy ginger hair and a kind face. “You're new.” She spoke without moving her lips. “I'm Jean.”

“Y/N.”

The girl gave you a bright smile. “I was asked to show you your room.”

You turned back to your mother who was still engaged in conversation with Professor Xavier. She looked different. Her shoulders weren't sagging and her eyes seemed hopeful. She wanted you here. Wanted you to be safe and, well let's face it, she'd be safer without a fucked up child.

“You're not 'fucked up'.” Jean rolled her eyes. “You're just something new.”

Your eyes widened. “Can you hear my mind?”

“Yeah, sorry. I can't turn it off all the time.” She had genuine embarrassment splattered on face. “I don't mean to, I'm still practising.”

“Okay.” You nodded. “I'll try to keep my thoughts quiet.”

\\

The familiar sound of wheels pulled you from the memory. “Ahh.” Charles came into view. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

The others had clearly picked you as the spokesperson so you smiled. “Thank you for having us.”

“Of course.” His eyes crinkled with glee. “It was your home previously and apparently it hasn't changed. Would Laura and Remy care for a tour?”

The others looked at each other before nodding, unsurely.

“I'll call you both a guide.” He spoke before just sitting still. To an onlooker it would look rude, sarcastic, to say that and then sit motionless but you knew otherwise.

A girl with dead straight, long blonde hair and an unearthly feel to her sauntered into the entry. “I take Laura to Ellie and Yukio.” She spoke with a thick russian accent.

“Thank you kindly, Illyana.” Charles spoke over his shoulder.

You weren't 100% comfortable with Laura leaving but she had an eager expression on her face so you let her go with nothing more than a “call me if you need me.”

The two girls walked up the first flight of stairs, there were many in this labyrinth of an estate, and as they did they passed Rogue. She had darker skin than your Rogue but there was no mistaking that hair. Her hair was thick, voluminous and curly.

Her hips swayed as she strutted down the stairs. Adorned in ‘people clothes’ but looking every bit the X-Man she was.

“Y’all alright Sugar?” She placed her gloved hands on her hips. “I'm Anna Marie, they call me Rogue.”

“Remy LeBeau.” He bowed next to you. “They call me th’ Gambit.”

“Mmm. A Cajun, I can't wait to get some recipes outta you.” She waved him along, towards the right of the stairs and then disappeared underneath them to the kitchen.

Gambit clapped your shoulder before he jogged after her.

You were left with Charles. He was still smiling sweetly at you, it was a little unnerving.

“So…” You clapped your hands. “Who's my tour guide?”

“You don't need one, dear.” He told you simply. “You're free to explore, if you need me, call me.” He then whirled and zoomed off.

You were just left.

Again, to an onlooker it was rude. But maybe he knew you’d feel awkward paired with a X-Man. You would have to pretend to be in awe of the jet or the grounds or even just them. You knew a lot of these people but they had no clue you even existed.

If the TVA really went back and altered the reality was it still the same universe? How could they take their Logan out of it when he was the original Anchor being to the whole thing?

You pushed those thoughts aside and stomped through into one of the sitting areas.

It was large and decorated warmly. There were four sofas, three of which were in a square by the fire and the other was behind the one adjacent to the flames. There were coffee tables with board games and empty cups, messy bookshelves stacked high with trinkets and more games.

Two kids were playing chess, one had wings and the other was orange. Both were humanoid and young. Maybe 12?

//

You didn't care where you landed but you needed to sit by a fire. Stomping the light sleet off of your boots, you slipped out of your wet coat and scarf. Abandoning them on the floor - no one would be awake now - you rushed through into the first sitting available room. You flipped over the back of the sofa, face buried in pillows as your socks felt vague embers of warmth.

It was dangerous that it was still roaring but you didn't give a flying fuck.

“You alright bub?” A voice asked, opposite you.

You scrambled into a more presentable position and saw it was the new guy. What was his name? James? Jackson? Jonathan? It was definitely a J-Name.

He was sitting on the sofa opposite, in an X-Men hoodie and tracksuit bottoms, his feet were bare. The clothes led you to believe he had come from his bedroom.

“Yeah.” You nodded, hands outstretched to the flames. “Sorry, didn't realise anyone would be up.”

“It's alright.” He moved his hand to show that he was nursing a drink.

You questioned in disbelief, “is that bourbon?”

“Don't rat me out and you can have some.”

Now, that was an offer too good to pass up. “Sure thing. I saw nothing.”

He didn't have another glass so emptied the liquid into his mouth, wiped the rim and handed you a full glass. “Don't mind the-”

“It's fine.” After the day you had sharing a glass with a handsome man was nothing. “Working here I'm immune to any disease you could imagine.” You took a healthy swig, the liquid burning your throat. Immediately warming your insides. “I dunno if this is good stuff is but it's fucking strong. So cheers to that.”

He raised the bottle and took a gulp. You both sat in silence. After a while you had to shed your jumper, the heat making you sweat. He waited for you to fold your jumper before asking. “How long you been here?”

You did the mental maths. “Seven years.”

He hummed, the fire casting shadows that danced beautifully against his skin.

“Used to be everyone's favourite student, now I'm their favourite teacher.”

“Pretty thing like you, I'm sure you're right.” You had to pull your eyes away from him as he smirked. “What’d you teach?”

“Self defence.”

“Maybe I'll pop by.”

You took another sip. “You should. It'd be good to show the kids how to take down a bigger opponent.”

He sniggered. “It's a date.”

You prayed that the heat in your cheeks was from the fire.

“Why're you getting in so late?” One of his brows met his hairline. His hair was bonkers but endearingly cute, he looked like a little kitty cat. You wanted to see if it was as soft as you imagine.

You heaved a sigh. “I had to walk, the bike packed in.” Scott had loaned you his bike, drilling into you that you needed to refill it after using it. Well the fucker hadn't because it had conked out halfway through the journey.

The man opposite gave you a guilty smile. “Scott's?” You nod. “I might borrow it without his permission every now and then.”

You rolled your eyes. “So you're why I had to trek in the storm for 30 minutes. You owe me more than a drink Mr.”

“Logan.” He offered. Huh, you could've sworn it was a J-Name.

“Y/N.” You replied.

“I'll make it up to you Y/N. Somehow.”

\\

A buzz in your pocket centred you back to reality.

Logan: Picked up his scent a while back. He's walking in circles

Y/N: Why? X

Logan: Classic misdirection, maybe shield weren't so careful

Y/N: Just be safe baby x

Logan: Course

Logan: How's the mansion?

Y/N: Memory lane has nothing on this place x

Logan: That good?

Y/N: Think so… just remembered meeting Logan for the first time. We'd sorta been introduced before but actually talking was a while after

He had read the message but didn't reply immediately. Perhaps he had to put the phone away to track Victor?

Logan: I'm here if things get overwhelming

Y/N: I'm not gonna call you on a hunt, love x

Logan: You're allowed. No one else.

Logan: You have any sort of 'wobble', you call me. No tears without me knowing

Y/N: Okay x

Logan: I gotta go but I love you Y/N

Y/N: You more baby x

The kids kept giving you confused side eye so you carried on into the next room. Surely they had seen a random person before, your mansion had a new person daily.

//

“Big brother is watching you.”

“Please, I beg you, I will do anything. Please do not spoil this.” You begged. He had found you sitting on the floor in a small crevice, 1984 clutched in hand. “This is the only book the students haven't read. ‘did you like that part miss?’ no I haven't got to that part yet, Sanhu!”

“I won't.” His hands met his hips. “What are you doin’?”

“Isn't it obvious? I'm Hiding.” Your eyes scanned the room before you eased yourself up, Logan caught your hand and steadied you.

“Sorry to pull you from your spot.”

“It's okay, wasn't you I was hiding from.” You dogeared the page and closed the book. “They keep finding me. There's only so many inane questions I can stomach.”

Logan chuckled. “It's ‘cause half have a crush on you and the rest are trying to imitate ya.”

You scoffed. “I highly doubt that.”

“Bub, trust me.” He rolled his eyes at your expression. “Here.” He handed you a blank CD case. “I came to give you this, it's the band that sings Sexical.”

“Oh cool!” You accepted the CD and flipped it. It looked man-made; ‘She's an angel’, ‘fuel to run’ and ‘cream’ scrawled in Logan's messy scratch. “You made this?”

“There are some songs I don't think you'd like, so I thought I'd put the good ones together.” He shrugged, the wall behind you becoming interesting.

You opened the case to see he had thankfully written the band's name - Love/Hate - with the same marker on the disc.

“Well, thank you. I'll dig my Walkman out.”

Logan gave you a nod and stalked off.

~~

Christmas was wholly celebrated in the Mansion as there were those who couldn't return home. Storm and Jubilee had convinced you to help with the decorations and it took little to no convincing to get a certain gruff man to assist.

“Every year there's more.” You gestured to the decs.

Logan was leaning against the wall, he had helped you with the foil garlands, arms folded. “You love it.”

“Of course I do but taking it all down haunts me.” Last year it had taken four days to rid the Mansion of every last bit of tinsel. Angel had found a missed snowflake in the middle of June, it had fallen and landed on top of a portrait frame.

“If you had it your way, they'd stay up all year.”

“No.” You were adamant. “Halloween trumps Christmas.” Logan's brows rose to his hairline. “What? It's the superior holiday.”

“Wow, I knew you liked Halloween but hearing that from little miss kringle is something else.”

You rolled your eyes and gave him a playful shove. “Shut up.”

Logan caught your wrist and placed it back down to your side, pulling you closer as he did. “Don't start things you can't finish.”

“Oh, we all know I can take you.” You gave him a smug smirk, spurred on by his intoxicating gaze - there were flecks of green hidden in his dark eyes - you added, “And in a fight.”

Logan's eyes bugled yet they slipped to your lips and back up.

“Hey, tweedle Dee and Dum!” Ororo’s voice called. “I'm seeing a lot of gazing longingly into each other's eyes and not seeing a lot of decorating.”

You turned to see Storm standing at the opposite side of the room, box in hand, one brow raised.

“Gazing longingly?” Logan scoffed as you called out: “We needed a five minute break!” You gave a nervous chuckle at his response and the situation in itself before trotting over to Storm, Logan let your wrist go a second too late, causing another awkward laugh.

“You can't tell me this room isn't festive enough.” Your voice was slightly higher than usual, no one commented but you knew they knew.

“It isn't festive enough.” Storm deadpanned, handing you yet another box, she did crack a smile at your ‘wtf’ face. “This is the last one. I promise.”

You didn't believe her in the slightest but let her vacate the room as you opened the storage box. It was faux greenery, garlands and wreaths and mistletoe.

“Ooh, Logan look!” You presented the herb. “Poisonous to werewolves.”

Logan was still standing by the wall but took a couple steps forward to look. “Lucky we don't have any.”

“Yet.” You added. “With all us mutants it wouldn't surprise me if we got a Vamp or an Undead being. I mean you're pretty grizzly, not far off a wolf.”

A familiar smile settled onto Logan's face, it was the same one he wore whenever you went on a tangent. You suppose being the silent watcher he was, he must be used to people yapping around him, hopefully you didn't annoy him too much.

You tried to refocus. “Where should we put it?”

“Depends on who you want to catch out.”

“Well, Jean won't tell me that her and Scott have a thing… but they totally have a thing. Maybe we try to catch them.”

“‘We’ yeah?”

“Are you backing out of my incredibly complex and well thought through plan?”

“Never.”

~~

“Get out!” You screamed. “Go!”

The children behind you sprinted. They didn't wait for another order.

The humans had decided that they'd start out their New Year by killing children.

Your fields held strong against their bullets but you had known they would - if they could last against Adamantium they could last against a few bullets - creating bubbles of safety.

You were defense. Always on the lookout, always trying to hold back the onslaught so that the others could either fight or flee.

The footsteps behind you were out of earshot, meaning the children had got to safety. An underground tunnel would get them to a safe point. They would wait there for an adult.

You had done many drills and tests but you never thought this was a possibility. Fucking ridiculous!

You made a huge bubble and shoved the humans back, most of them being flung out of windows, glass shattering everywhere, but some hit the walls being knocked unconscious.

You were in bed, meaning that you had no shoes on so you tried to avoid blood, glass, bullet shells and any other debris as you examined each room.

You needed to get back to the others, you were protecting them from afar when a child screaming interrupted your flow. Logan's eyes had made contact with yours from his position in the garden and he gave you a few frantic nods. You didn't need permission but it was good that one of the team knew you weren't hit. If your fields suddenly vanished without explanation they might think the worst.

Shouting across the hall severed the silence and you jumped right back into the action. Jogging down the corridor, keeping low as you passed exposed areas.

Entering the room, you found nothing. It was just some of the teenage bunks. There were no children, no enemies, nothing.

Where had the shouting com-

Hands wrapped around you and you struggled, snarling as they strapped something to your neck. You tried to shove them off and create a field to prevent the rope? from winding around your neck. To stop it getting tighter.

No.

It wasn't a rope.

It was cold.

Metallic.

Why weren't your fields working?

“Not so strong now, cutie?” A masculine voice spoke from behind, he circled you and gripped your jaw with one hand. “It's a shame you're one of them, you're fucking hot.”

“Is that a gun in your pocket?” You sassed. “Wouldn't want mommy to know you liked a freak like m-” He yanked your hair, making your neck click as he pulled you backwards.

“Tsk, tsk. A girl like you should know what comes out of your mouth should be prettier than what goes in.”

You spat in his face.

“That's it, bitch.” He struck you across your face - releasing his grip on your hair - with such force you landed on your knees.

He looked unimpressed as he stalked over to you and yanked on your arm, dragging you along with him. You fought back of course but felt inadequate without your powers. What sort of technology did they posses to force the Mutant gene into submission?

He groaned at the top of the stairs before you were tossed down them.

Your vision was blurry when you came to, he was dragging you again, bruised and aching. You could feel warmth flow from your hairline, down to your eyebrows, also leaking from your nose. Moving your arm was painful but you wiped your nose and found a blurry sticky red substance on your hand.

“Oit!” He yelled.

You were yanked down another few steps - each one sending a new jolt of pain through your body - but as you felt the floor it was hard. Small cold stones met your bare legs.

Outside. You were outside.

“You Muties, stick together right?” He presented you, slumped on the floor, squinting up at him. “Sorry, one second.” The man threaded his hand back into your hair and pulled you up, deciding kneeling wasn't good enough and forced you to stand on throbbing ankles. “What's her mutant name? You all have one, right?”

Your eyes focused and refocused trying to make out who was on the field. Storm was easy to see because of her hair but you could also see Hank and Scott. You knew Logan was there earlier but couldn't see him now.

“What? No one wants to play now?” He turned your head towards him and gave you an over exaggerated frown.

You had just enough sense in you to spit in his face again.

“That's it you fu-” he didn't finish his sentence because he was too preoccupied with punching you straight in the face.

You, again, landed on the ground but this time you were giggling.

“What's so funny?”

“You got-” You wheezed, closing your eyes. “Mutant spit in your mouth.”

He turned back to the others, addressing them. “I was going to bargain with her life but she's pissing me off, so I'm just going to kill her instead.” He chuckled. “Uh-uh-uh Cyclops. You can't kill a human under the new bill.”

“What?” Scott voiced the question you all thought.

“No mutant can kill a human, not even in self defense. Starting on January 1st. It's too bad for your lo-” He cut himself off with a choked gargle.

“No, it's too bad for you.” Logan taunted. “You had 6 minutes.”

The clamp on your neck fell away and hands were on your cheeks.

“Y/N?”

You tried to open your eyes but it was agony. “Hey, bub.”

“That's my line.”

~~

Laying on the grass had become somewhat a passtime of yours now. For some reason you found comfort in the field.

When you had nightmares of that sadistic man and the bill and the humans and everything in your life, coming outside and laying on the dewy ground recentered you.

Charles and Erik had called a truce and began battling political opponents instead of each other. The bill was bullshit. It had passed and been withdrawn within a month.

It was odd classing Erik and Raven as enemies again when you knew ultimately you wanted the same goal but you would have to get used to it.

“I thought I'd find you out here.” You extended your neck to see Logan standing behind you.

“Hey, Lo.”

He collapsed next to you, sitting with one leg bent, his elbow resting on the knee. “You alright?”

You'd been the only mutant in the Mansion so far to have a collar fitted around your neck. You'd been the only one truly defenceless. Truly useless!

“I like the stars.”

He hummed, falling into a weighty silence with you.

There was no denying the two of you had grown closer, hell, he was probably your best friend at this point.

The two of you were paired together in training drills and in your lessons because you could really fight each other. Neither holding back. Your power could stop his. You were evenly matched.

He had gifted you more CDs and you had let him borrow a David Bowie LP. If he found you laying on the sofa reading he would sit next to you and keep you warm. He was so warm. Once, he even read to you. Your eyes were so tired and he plucked the book from your hands and finished the chapter.

You would never tell anyone, least of all him, but that was one of your fondest memories. His voice was so soothing and, bless him, he had even made up voices for the characters.

Logan always sat next to or opposite you as you ate, he was usually the main reason you ate, saving you a plate or bowl.

He was… well, like every other person with eyes here you'd formed a crush on him. He was just so kind. So generous. And it didn't hurt that he looked like that.

“I was thinkin’,” He started. You looked over, expecting him to still be sitting but he had moved. He was lying next to you, watching you. His nose inches from yours. “Tomorrow, I'll take you to to the bar I like.”

He was known for sneaking off premises at night. Coming home smelling like booze and smoke.

“The bar you like?” He had never confirmed he went to a bar - he was oddly secretive about certain aspects - but you all knew, it was something for him to admit it.

“It's a real shit hole but it's cheap and close.”

Your lips upturned at his blunt response. “Okay. You and me tomorrow. It's a date.”

“It is.” His face was serious. “I am taking you on a date.”

Oh.

“Me?” You were flabbergasted. There were goddesses like Jean and Ororo and Raven and Psylocke knocking about and he wanted to take you on a date?

“There was only so much rolling about in the simulator we could do before I asked you out.” He joked but you could see an undercurrent of fear in his eyes.

“Yeah. Okay.” Your cheeks were warm. “I'd really like that.”

His cheeks pinkened and he looked up at the stars trying to suppress his smile. “Good.”

You felt his hand intertwine in yours and tried so hard to act natural. Tried to keep your breath steady and appear calm and collected.

“So, uh, what does one wear to a real shit hole?”

Logan's shoulders shook with his laugh.

~~

It wasn't easy to take things slow when you lived and worked with the person.

Logan was ever the gentleman and gave you space but it was a strange mixture of wanting to be with him platonically and wanting to be with him romantically.

He was your best friend. You wanted to talk to him about your newest date but you also needed to act cool and casual.

You failed miserably at both of those things.

In fact you almost had a heart attack when he kissed your forehead for the first time.

He was yet to actually kiss you.

Which was good because it meant he liked you enough to listen and wanted to be around you without getting into your pants but you wanted him in your pants.

Which brought you to the present.

You were currently standing outside of his room - having knocked - waiting for a response.

“Lo, it's me.” You called through the wooden door.

“Come in.” He answered, slightly muffled.

You entered the room, he wasn't in view but the door leading to the bathroom was open, and flopped onto his bed. Letting out an exaggerated sigh - definitely not to inhale his smell - you spoke against his duvet, “I'm bored.”

“Yeah?” His footsteps got closer and you lifted your head and took a double take.

The fucker was glistening, a towel sitting far too low on his hips. His torso was gorgeous, he looked spectacular. He had strong pecs and chiselled abs, dusted with a coating of soft hair and there was one vein that disappeared into the towel that you ached to lick.

“Bub?” When your forced your eyes onto his face you saw a cocky grin.

“Yes?” You blunk, trying to figure out if he had spoken anything else. How long had you been ogling him?

A droplet of water fell from his hair and ran down his neck, passed his pecs and journeyed further- no! Don't look again.

Do not get caught twice!

“It should be illegal to look like you.” You spoke to your hands. They were resting on the duvet where your face had been.

“Kettle. Pot. Black.” One of his hands settled onto the towel, he usually had a belt to hold, so the movement could've been innocent but with the way his eyes scanned you, you knew it wasn't.

You eased yourself up, sitting on your folded legs and stared at him. Maybe you shouldn't. No either way you win. Either you call his bluff or... “You got a condom?”

The smile could've split his face in half, he licked his teeth, walking closer to the bed. Leaning down to open his bedside table he presented you with an unopened pack.

“Just for you.”

“I feel so special.”

Logan's right hand met your cheek and his thumb caressed the flesh. He was taller than you in this position so he lent down to kiss you. He was slow about it, giving you time to back out, but once his lips met yours he fastened the pace.

Your hands didn't know where to rest. One was fiddling with his chest hair whilst the other clawed at his back. You didn't want to be the one who disrobes their partner after less than thirty seconds of kissing but there was no robe. Can't disrobe someone who isn't wearing one, right? A mere piece of fabric barely covered him.

Oh my god.

He was naked.

Naked under the towel.

Fuck.

His tongue brushed against your bottom lip and you eagerly allowed access. Logan's chest rumbled, vibrating your hand, and you pulled back eyes wide.

“Do that again.”

He complied and you kissed your way along his chest. Sometimes you forgot how animalistic you were. How primal you could be.

Your cavewoman brain liked big strong man making noise.

Logan's nose nuzzled your neck, kissing your jaw and he ran his tongue across your jaw downwards to your collar bone.

It was almost embarrassing how wet you were but the steadily growing length poking your thigh made you feel better.

“I can smell you.” He ran his nose by your neck again. “Can always smell you. You're so sweet.”

“Always?” That better not be a hint.

“I know if you've been in a room.” He nipped your cheek. “I'm tuned into your frequency but now,” his voice deepened. “I can smell here.” The touch was phantom but his fingers were where you wanted him most.

You only had on a baggy shirt and ratty pj shorts so you were quick to slip out of the shorts, tossing them behind your shoulder.

“Towel.” You ordered.

“I-” He paused, conflict flashing behind his eyes. “If we start I'm not su-”

“There is nothing that could make me not want this.” You didn't know how else to say it. "I would do a lot of bad things to do a lot of bad things to your body."

He smirked and allowed you to tug on the towel, it loosening, revealing his dick.

Oh, it was fucking fantastic.

You couldn't help but kiss his abdomen, dragging your tongue along the low vein. Wrapping a hand around his length you kissed the tip and he shuddered.

“You're beautiful.” You spoke to his dick, licking the slit.

“Take your shirt off.”

You grumbled, ignoring him, and licked the underside from shaft to head.

“Y/N. Shirt. Off.” His hand held your neck, halting your movements - you were stopped, your tongue poking out just shy of him.

Pulling up you made a show of removing the shirt and his hands were instantly on you. One was at your hip whilst the other kneaded your breast. He dipped his head and captured a nipple between his teeth, making your spine arch.

“You, er, you experienced?” He questioned releasing your nipple from his lips, his eyes gazing up at you.

Why did it feel like he was embarrassed to ask?

“I've had a couple not great fucks,” You shrugged. “Prefer my own company.”

“That's about to change.” He captured your lips again.

~~

You were snuggled up in your bed watching the credits roll on a VHS you'd finally got your mitts on.

Logan slipped into your room and under the covers, wrapping a hand around your waist and dipping himself to kiss your cheek.

It was wet. Why was your cheek wet?

“Y/N?” What had happened?! Who did he have to kill?

“Spock fucking died!” You explained, frantically wiping your cheeks. “He just like sacrificed himself?”

If you had known that would happen you wouldn't have watched the movie at this particular time of the month.

Logan gave you a sympathetic noise and rolled you onto your spine, kissing your nose.

“It's okay.”

“No, it isn't.” Your eyelashes were wet but your eyes were no longer glossy. "Jim is alone, now."

"We'll get through this together."

Logan's palm found your abdomen and he kept his hand there, warmth radiating through easing some of the pain. “That's really nice.”

“I always get a fright each month when I can smell blood on you.” He nuzzled his face into your neck, placing delicate kisses to your flesh.

“How was the mission?” Your lips grazed his ear.

He had told you that your neck was his favourite part of you because it smelt the most. He was eager to mark and claim your as his own because it mingled the scents and apparently that was amazing. Logan seemed to get off on your scent alone so when there were hints of him on you he was wild.

“Distracted.” He sucked the junction between neck and collar bone. He had been chosen because of his unique sense of smell. It was a gift that he could track so easily. “Could smell you on my fingers, I didn't want to get bad guy blood on my hands because it would fuck it up. You'd smell wrong.”

Your body twitched as his tongue soothed the sore flesh. “That why it took longer?”

“Hmm.” He produced a small navy box from his jeans pocket, laying it on your chest. “This is why.”

You frowned but opened the lid to see the most beautiful pair of earrings imaginable. Diamond studs, each with three individual chains dangling, covered in more diamonds.

“O-Logan?”

His face was buried into your neck for an entirely different reason now. It was fucking adorable that this big strong man still blushed around you. “Was gonna wait til your birthday but…”

“Thank you, Lo.” You kissed where you could reach on his cheek. “They're beautiful.”

“I brought them because…” He pulled back, his hazel eyes studying your face. “I want to take you out more. Take you to places that aren't natural or manmade disasters. I want to show you off to the world. I like having you on my arm, I really want to show you off. I think we should go out more. You and me just see the world, maybe? Travel? And, well, I've also realised that I fucking love you.”

Neither of you had quite admitted that yet. There were close calls where you almost did after a bad mission but it felt wrong to tell him on your deathbed. Felt like you'd cheat him. He deserved more than a ‘hi and bye’.

“I love you, too. I think I might even love you more, Logan.” Your fingers stroked his temple, gruff hair itching your hand.

He let out a sigh of relief and you almost laughed because how could you not replicate the feelings? Then you considered the way he rambled. How much this must have meant to him, he always wanted to do it right; to make sure everything was perfect for you but it was when he stuttered and said things out of order that you really saw how much he cared. He was unable to form literate sentences because he loved you so deeply. That was true, real love. Not the smooth talking, lady killers in the movies.

“No you don't.” He pecked your forehead.

~~

“Who wants to see me kick Mr Logan's ass?” You cockily placed your hands on your hips.

Logan was standing next to you, hands in his hoodie pockets.

He was wearing matching grey sweatpants and you were dying. How did grey sweats look that good?

“He can't die.” Marcus - a little shit - sassed. “What's the point in fighting someone that can't die?”

“Well, self defence isn't about killing.” You set him straight. “It is about protecting yourself. Being able to keep yourself safe in this world is the most powerful thing you'll ever learn.” Hopefully, they would never know the hopelessness you felt when that collar locked around your neck, hopefully they could live in peace. Live freely.

Marcus just rolled his eyes.

“She's right, kid.” Logan backed you up. “There's a lot to fighting that isn't killing. I've been around a long time, I'd know.”

“Then shouldn't you fight someone more evenly matched?” He raised a brow. You knew this was coming. He had grown up in a very strict household. His parents were cultists, if he hadn't been a mutant he would've been the next leader. Shame. Women were beneath men in his eyes - which wasn't necessary his fault and you were trying to carefully show him but the fucker was pissing you off.

“She's kicked my ass more than any other opponent.” Logan shrugged playfully but you could see the twitch of his jaw.

“That's because you fight often. It's a matter of quantity and not quality.”

“Okay.” You clapped your hands before the kid would get on Logan's nerves. “Who wants to show me their skills?”

The lesson went smoothly after that. You saw a lot of potential in Erica and begged Winston to keep practising.

Marcus refused to show you - or anyone - his ability.

You had assumed it was because ‘mutant is wrong’ was drilled into him as a child but perhaps he just didn't trust you. You'd have to figure out how to bring him out of that shell.

The students left your class with a varying amount of glee.

“I don't know how you're so nice.” Logan lit a cigar. “You just put this smile on and keep going.”

“He's a kid.” You answered. “A stupid kid but a kid.”

“I think we're evenly matched.” He winked.

You scoffed and tidied away some of the equipment.

It was nagging at you.

It had been all class.

‘I've been around a long time’

Yeah, you knew.

Everyone knew.

But woul-would you be old and shrivelled and he'd still be the same?

Would he look at you in disgust once you started greying?

“What's the most dead you've been?” The words were sudden and far from eloquent.

Logan blinked, his brows meeting. “The most dead I've been?”

You nodded.

He pondered the question. “I was a skeleton at one point. My skin and organs regrew it was trippy.”

You considered the answer.

He could literally operate as a skeleton and you were out for a week because of a bad cold.

Was this the first chip?

Was this something that would slowly become a larger crack?

Would your relationship survive this?

You plastered a grin on your face. “Okay.”

~~

“Hey handsome!” You strutted straight up to Logan. He looked amazing, wearing a dark button down and black dress trousers. You wanted to take him straight upstairs.

“Baby.” His arm automatically wrapped around your waist, kissing your hairline before reconnecting with Kurt.

You didn't catch what they were talking about, too drunk to care but sober enough to nod along when they looked at you.

Kurt poked your nose before he disappeared and you sneezed.

“Bless you.” Logan bent his neck to look at your scrunched face.

“That was so tickly.” You rubbed your nose, hoping your makeup stayed in place.

“Have I told you you look beautiful tonight?”

“Only a thousand times.” You grinned upwards, tiptoeing to capture his lips. “I know it's Hank's birthday but you look so yummy. Want to take you upstairs.”

Logan growled at your words, wrapping his other hand around you, “I won't say no.”

“Let's go then.” You kissed his chin.

“Hey lovebirds!” Bobby called across the room. “I need another teammate.”

“Go on.” Logan nudged you, you had all night and the rest of your life to fuck. Maybe you should enjoy your friends company. Linger in the room too long. “You'll be terrible but it'll be fun to watch.”

He was standing next to Sunspot at one end of a Beer Pong match. Jubilee, Kitty and Rogue were at the other.

You mock gasped but knew he was right.

The game was rigged, you were sure of it. You had to drink every time and barely managed one cup. Logan took pity on you after the second beer and downed your drinks, the others weren't best pleased but no one was going to argue with the Wolverine about his girl.

It was so good to let loose.

After having your hysterectomy and being without your best friend for months this was bliss.

You hadn't realised how much he was a part of you. Removing him from your life left it cold and empty.

It was cliché but you had slowly tumbled into a depression without him. Much like any teenage lead in a shitty romcom being without your boyfriend was agony.

He understood your reasoning, didn't condone the actions but was able to see it from your perspective.

You were rarely allowed to be out of his eyeshot, now. He had become even more protective of you, wanting you to feel loved and supported even if you told him you didn't need that. He wanted you to come to him with any issue, to trust him, no matter how big or small.

And you wanted to be strong.

You wanted to prove that you were okay.

But being carried up to bed and coddled was fucking lovely.

“It's Alice in Chains!” You excitedly clapped Logan's arm. He had played you this song more than once, you think it was called Nutshell. Did Hank borrow some of your CDs? “This is your favourite song!”

He smirked. “Not my favourite but it's a good one.” He wrapped himself around your body, his front to your back, watching Jubilee sink one for Bobby.

“What is your favourite song?”

He hummed and you felt his shoulders move. “I don't know, I'd have to think on it.”

Okay, you'd allow that. It wasn't an easy question so you reworded it. “If you were dying right now what would you want to listen to?”

“You humming in the kitchen.” He answered without a second thought.

You giggled, turning in his hold. “No, come on, seriously.”

He rest his forehead against yours. “When you hummed Elvis… making those flapjacks… the sun was-it made you look ethereal, you were an angel. I want that.”

You remembered that day. Everything had gone wrong even though you followed the recipe to a tee! He had walked in on you mid tantrum and made life better. If he thought you looked angelic covered in sugar and chocolate then imagine what he thought when you made an effort.

“You always leave me speechless.”

He kissed your temple.

~~

“I never meant to cause you any sorrow.” You spoke seriously.

Logan looked up from the papers he was grading. His eyes squinting slightly in a silent question.

“I never meant to cause you any pain.” You injected sadness into your voice, it cracked slightly.

“What's happening?” He looked really worried, taking off his reading glasses.

“I only wanted one time to see you laughing.” You used your hands animatedly.

“Y/N?”

“I only want to see you laughing in the purple rain.”

He heaved a sigh of relief. “You had me worried. I was trying to figure out if I'd missed a birthday or an anniversary.”

“I can't grade these papers. The song is rattling around in my head.” You thunked your head against the desk. “Why did we say we'd help Jean again?”

“You told her you could grade more papers in a day then she could.”

“Pathetic fallacy this, juxtaposition that.” You groaned. “Why do I get so competitive?”

“I don’t know.” He spoke honestly. “We could be spending our evening any other way but you have us reading shitty analysises on An Inspector Calls.”

You didn't answer him. You wouldn't let him goad you. Wouldn't stoop to his level, despite wanting so badly to stoop in front of him. Biting the inside of your cheek you stood. “Nope, sorry, I have to play the record.”

He watched you wander to the shared pile of music. Your LPs and his CDs intermingled in the corner of his room.

“Is the Prince album in here?” You flicked through the LPs.

“All our music is. Did you let anyone borrow it?”

“I don't know.” You knelt, opening the cupboard underneath the record player, he panicked, jumping up.

“Don't look in-”

“Ha!” You waved the cover smiling but your enthusiasm ebbed away making room for suspicion. “Don't look in here?”

A hand stretched his face. “Please don't ask questions.”

“If you're hiding a present somewhere make sure it's not somewhere I'd look, Howlett.” You closed the doors. “That's like the first rule.”

“I don't have that many hiding places.” He defended. “We live together.”

That was technically true and untrue.

You still had a room.

You just spent most of your time in his.

“I can vacate i-”

“Shut up.” He took the record from your hands and secured the vinyl onto the spindle and placed the needle accordingly. He flipped the machine on and the last chords of ‘baby I'm a star’ played before the familiar strum.

He offered you his palm and you took it, easing up from the floor. “Dance with me?”

“Always.”

The two of you swayed to the music. It was the last song on this side of the record so you'd have to change it soon but just leaning against him, listening to Prince sing and play his guitar was heavenly.

Logan's nose was buried in your hair. He would tell you later on that he wouldn't have minded if you found what he was hiding.

He would've just got down on his knee then and there.

He didn't want to propose publicly but he wanted to make the day special. Make you feel loved like you deserved.

\\

“Y/N?” You turned your head. You were upstairs. Outside of Logan's room.

It was empty. Unoccupied.

“Storm.” She looked amazing. Had she even aged? Maybe she was born later in this universe.

“The professor asked me to check on you.” She spoke with ease but it wasn't the friendly chatter you were used to.

“Yeah sorry, I've just been wandering like a ghost around this mansion.” Your cheeks warmed. “I'm absolutely fine, though, thank you for checking up on me.”

Part 14

@littlecrowtime @geeksareunique @lovelyvaderx @br3nt-12 @st1nkabutt @maximumchilddreamland @catiwinky @twinkywink @ravenmedows @electricreader @racetrackheart @vulgarfuckinvirgo77 @bisasterbisexual @tzurue @narniansmagic @seamlessepiphany @4ria790 @caramelatae @mei-simp @slightlymediocree @h0n3y-l3m0n05

[mrs-barnes-rogers-writes]

Pretty As A Picture - Chapter 10

Marvel

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Theme: Soulmates - Feeling the connection as soon as you see each other.

Summary: When Bucky fell from the train, their soulmate was told he was gone. When Steve Rogers disappeared into the ice, their soulmate was again told one of her soulmates were gone. But she didn't believe it. Couldn't believe it. Committed to a mental health institute, she dies of a broken heart. That's at least what the hidden S.H.I.E.LD files say, but if that's the case than why is there a photo of her. A photo that shows her side by side two redhaired Avengers.

Warnings will be per chapter.

For this fic reader will be British, but let your imagination replace if needed.

Chapter Summary: The reader wakes up.

Chapter Warning: Mentions of hospital care.

“So, I’m gonna make it really clear, you’re going to have your work cut out with her. She’s stubborn, a know it all, unfortunately because she does know it all, photographic memory and all that, the situations she sometimes gets herself in aren’t always great but she always and I mean always has a way out. She doesn’t eat right. Her sleep pattern is worse than a teething toddler and believe me I know” He said looking down at Nathanial in his arms, “but she is fiercely loyal, if you call her for anything, she could be having tea with a royal and she’d drop everything to save your ass or in Laura’s case so you can have a shower without a screaming child and take a nap in peace. She’ll hold you through your nightmares, be your biggest supporter and snap a guys neck if they’ve hurt you. She feels all her emotions at ten times the level we do. Sometimes that’s great, sometimes it’s really not. Now, I’m gonna ask you, don’t pursue this unless you’re sure. Please.”

“She’s our soulmate Clint, there’s no way we aren’t pursuing this.” Replied Steve.

“I know she’s your soulmate but….”

“But what?” Asked Bucky.

“She sometimes, well it’s not my place to say.”

Steve and Bucky both huffed in response. They’d been sick of those words over the last few days. When you’d gripped the bed rail and bent it right in front of them it was clear you were different in some way. Match that with carrying Pietro like you did, Steve and Bucky were sure you were like them. A super soldier.

When Helen Cho entered the room after you’d been sedated, and spoke quietly to Bruce as they set up the cradle, they didn’t miss Bruce’s whispered “accelerated healing” or the mention of having to possibly rebreak some of your bones as they’d have already have set wrong. When they asked Bruce the response was “it’s not my place to say”. The same words were uttered when Steve asked Natasha why her and Clint were her emergency contacts and next of kin.

“You know I’m sick of hearing those words.” Steve told Clint.

“You know what fine, fuck it, yes I know language in front of the baby. He’s heard worse. Natasha and Y/N are his godmothers, he probably knows the f bomb in six different languages already. Look she struggles with the whole soul mate thing.”

Bucky’s head snapped up.

“How so?” Asked Steve.

Before Clint had chance to answer you groaned from the bed, causing the three men to jump to their feet, Nathanial jostling in Clint’s arms.

“Lightsssss, bright light, bright light.” You groaned, squeezing your eyes tightly.

“Shit, I forgot, F.R.I.D.A.Y dim the lights.” Clint instructed. “Good morning you little gremlin.”

“Gremlin?” Steve asked. “Sweetheart can you hear us?”

“It’s from a movie.” Bucky answered “Don’t put it on your damn list, it’s awful. Babydoll?”

“It is not. It’s a cult piece.” Clint replied.

“Whatever. Doll, can you hear us?”

You groaned again and muttered Clint’s name. He pushed past Steve and handed him a wiggling Nathanial, squeezing your hand and stroking your face affectionately. Bucky wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

“Hey kid, I’m here, open your eyes, you’ve had us all worried. Laura’s even started knitting again, you know how she hates it, only does it to keep herself busy, and don’t get me started on Natasha. I thought we’d have to sedate her at one point.”

“Natty.” You replied as your eyes started to flicker open.

“She’s upstairs, probably already on her way down.”

Bucky huffed. He didn’t want everyone in here. He wanted to speak to you, hold you, take care of you, figure out how the hell you were here. You started to look around, still squinting, jumping when you saw you were in the Med Bay.

“Easy kid. You’re in the compound Med Bay. You've been out for three days.”

You started to fidget in the bed.

“Y/N, listen.” and he gently cupped your jaw, moving your face to look at him. “You’re gonna be OK kid, you scared the shit out of us all, but you’ll be OK. You’re in the compound. Only Banner and Cho have looked at you. OK?”

You nodded in reply, your eyes full of tears. Clint kissed your forehead.

“Pietro? Did he? Is he?”

“He’s alive. See?” Clint stood upright and pointed to the next room in the bay. You followed his pointing to see you were separated by a glass wall but sure enough there was Pietro. Wanda and Vision at his bedside. He waved weakly at you and you attempted to wave back.

“Careful sweetheart.” You glanced up at the voice, meeting Steve’s eyes. “Hi honey.”

Spotting baby Nathanial in his arms, you reached out and made a gesture for Steve to pass him to you.

“Gimme.”

“Y/N,” Clint said as he perched on the bed “really?”

“Baby, gimme please.” You looked up at Steve with puppy eyes, who realised he immediately had no defence against your sad face and he turned to Clint, not knowing what to do. You pushed out your bottom lip for added effect and looked back at Clint.

“Fine, but you’re gonna need to sit up a little. Clint replied, before gathering up some pillows.

You tried to push yourself up as much as possible and Bucky silently tried to help. Why were you ignoring them? Clint moved around to the side of the bed Bucky was at and placed a pillow under your arm, saying something about it being the best side as your drip was gone, before whispering to you.

“Maybe stop being a brat and acknowledge your soulmates.”

You shifted uneasily and glanced at Clint as he gave you a knowing look, before he gestured at Steve to come around with Nathanial.

“Hello.” You said quietly, not making eye contact.

“Babydoll” “Sweetheart.”

Bucky placed a kiss on your head as you side eyed him.

“Is this a good idea?” Steve asked as Nathanial wiggled in his arms some more. “You said yourself how unsettled he is.”

“Just watch.” Clint laid Nathanial in the crook of your arm, making sure the pillow took most the weight. Nathanial snuggled into you, taking out his pacifier to give you a drool filled grin.

“Hi baby.” You said softly. Nathanial snuggled down more and closed his eyes, gripping on to the blanket Clint had placed over him.

The three watched you fondly as Nathanial drifted off to sleep, as you stroked his face affectionately. Bucky and Steve both felt a lump form in their throat as they watched. Thoughts of what could have been and what could be filling their heads. White picket fences seemed so far away now but there was something about you, their soulmate, with a baby in her arms.

Clint slipped back discreetly from between the two and moved to the other side of the bed. Spotting Natasha and Bruce hurrying down the corridor he gestured for them to slow down and wait, nodding back at Steve and Bucky. Steve slipped his arm around Bucky’s shoulder and Bucky mirrored his actions in return.

“We got her back bud.”

Bucky went to speak but let out a sob instead, as tears began to run down his face. Steve pulled him into a hug. You side eyed them not really knowing what to do. Clint noticed your uncomfortableness and squeezed your hand affectionately as tears formed in your eyes. You leaned back into the pillows, shaking your head.

“It doesn’t make any sense.” You almost whispered. “I can’t be their soulmate.”

Enjoy this fic? Fancy a cuppa? My Ko-Fi.

TAGLIST

@abaker74 @animegirlgeeky @calwitch @slowlyshycomputer @paasrin @cjand10 @otterlycanadian

[fandomfics]

Please Don't Leave Me

Pairing: Wade Wilson x Logan Howlett 

Based on this post from @wolvesofinnistrad

Description: Wade and Logan are stuck in the bodies of their variants, who also happen to be grossly lacking in the mutated gene department. 

Masterlist 

⚠️Warnings⚠️

Angst, fluff, mentions of suicide, suicidal ideations, suicide attempt, PTSD, violence, language, lgbtq, 4th wall breaks.

. . . 

"Papa! Daddy! Wake up!" 11 year old Laura says as she bounces onto the plush mattress holding her dads. 

Logan's eyes shoot open before scanning over the handsome man that lays next to him. The other man does the same as Laura babbles about how excited she is to spend the weekend with "Auntie Vanessa". 

"Hey hon, why don't you go get yourself ready?" Logan says softly without taking his eyes off the other man.

"Okay Papa!" She bounds off again out of the room, closing the door behind her. 

"What the fuck?" Logan sits straight up exposing his chest.

"Mornin' Peanut, treating me to a show so early? Really know how to make a girl feel special." 

"Wade?"

"Who else would it be sugar tits?" Wade says, bringing a hand up to rub his face. He feels the smoothness beneath his fingertips and lets out an almost inaudible gasp. His eyes widen as he looks over his hand and arm before feeling all over his body. He's like he was before. The shock keeps him quiet until he feels Logan's hand on his shoulder.

"You alright bub?" He knows Wade's internal struggles with his appearance, he covers it with self loathing jokes at his own expense, happy to bury it deep down, still, it creeps up on him.  

"Of course. Look at this beautiful fucking face!" Wade jumps out of bed to spin around like a princess in a flowy skirt before grabbing the hem of his boxers to curtsey to Logan. 

"Okay, but what the fuck?" He looks over himself again, his eyes drawn to the ring on his left hand. His eyes widen as he looks up to Wade once more, a similar band adorning his ring finger. Wade snaps out of his reverie when he catches on and jumps back onto the bed on his hands and knees, crawling towards Logan. 

"Wanna put a baby in me honey badger?" He says seductively, "We are married... and maybe Laura needs a sibling!" 

"Shut the fuck up Wade." Logan moves to extend his claws and stab him for his comment but nothing happens. He feels his hands. They're gone, he doesn't feel the adamantium beneath his skin, "something is wrong."

"Yeah, you haven't stabbed me yet."

"Exactly! My claws are gone." 

"Your claws are gone, I don't look like ground beef, we're married...sounds kinda nice to me." Wade says as he grabs a photo of their little family with a small smile. Logan sits there aghast, why is Wade so...relaxed?

. . .

"You're stuck. At least until Ouroborus recalibrates the rogue tempad that did this to you. Until then, just play house. This is a fairly innocuous timeline you happened to get stuck in. Just don't go looking for trouble. We'll arrange for time off from your variants jobs and give you additional funds, hopefully this will lessen the disturbance of the timeline." B-15 says sternly through the communicator.

"How long will that take?" Logan says, turning to Ouroborus. 

"A week or two maybe to source all the components and get everything together. Here's the address I'll be at if you need anything." He slips Logan a piece of paper before exiting their apartment. 

Logan growls in frustration before turning to Wade, "This is fucking ridiculous. How did you manage to grab the wrong Tempad?"

"Fuck if I know, I can't be held responsible for my own actions! Let's snoop around, find out about ourselves, shall we?" He says with a small clap.

"Nah, I'm going to the bar. Don't wait up."

. . . 

When Logan stumbles back into the apartment around 2am he finds Wade asleep on the couch, photo albums scattered around the coffee table and floor, open to various pages. He glances at the album laying on Wade's stomach, their wedding. The images of happy people surrounding the couple as they take their first dance together sends a pang of sadness to his heart. These are all people he recognises, people that he let down. He packs up every album, doing his best not to look at the photos, desperately wanting to avoid feeling his past.

He doesn't want to be here. He wants to go back to what he knows, not live in this weird fairytale where everything is normal and perfect. He leaves Wade where he is and lays in bed staring up at the ceiling, contemplating what he's going to do while he's stuck like this.

. . . 

The smell of breakfast food makes its way to Logan's nostrils as his eyes flutter open in the soft morning light. He groans heavily before standing and making his way to the kitchen, when he rounds the corner Wade yelps in surprise. 

"Damn it Wolvie, warn a girl you're coming! Now there's blood on the cantaloupe!" He raises a finger to point out a cut. When he looks at the area again his eyes go wide. "It's not healing."

They didn't think about the fact that they were entirely human. No mutation whatsoever, they could die. They risked everything to save Wade's timeline, and as difficult as it is for Logan to say out loud, he has found his family. Both he and Wade had found something to live for again. Neither of them wanted to lose that now.

"Fuck. Wade, you need to be careful." He starts to move towards him but stops short, turning towards the fridge instead. "You need to stay out of trouble."

"No Merc work for me then." Wade sighs before cleaning up the cut and returning to the task at hand. He plates the food and places the meal on the table where Logan now sits with a cup of coffee. 

"Thanks." He mumbles. 

Wade is quiet as they eat, deeply unsettling Logan. "Awfully quiet over there bub." He tries to look Wade in the eyes but his head remains down and focused on his food. "Wade. Earth to dumbass. Hello?" 

His head snaps up and he smiles at his breakfast companion, though Logan notices it doesn't reach his eyes. 

"You're too quiet. I don't like it."

"Eh, you're always telling me to shut the fuck up! Maybe I've finally taken your words to heart." He grasps his chest in mock pain. "Anyways, I was just thinking of all the boring normal people stuff we get to do while we're here! Really get to see how the other half lives!"

. . . 

 Throughout the day Logan catches Wade drifting off with his thoughts, a deep sadness glazing over his eyes. 

“Get up pretty boy, we're going out.” Logan says shrugging on a jacket, he feels a desperate need to cheer him up, help him work through whatever is going on in his head. 

Wade's eyes snap up from the TV show he's not really watching, and he blushes, “Nah, I'm good here for now.” His gaze returns to the show. 

“No the fuck you're not.” Logan steps between him and the TV. 

“Let me watch Gilmore Girls in peace, Logan!” His voice is raised, anger contorting his features. 

“Not until you let me take you out. Or tell me what's wrong. Or both! Fuck, Wade, you've been miserable all day!”

“I have not, I've just been… contemplative.”

Logan rolls his eyes and grabs his hands, pulling him up from the couch. He pushes him towards the bedroom, “get dressed, or I'll do it for you.”

“Jesus, okay.” Wade complies. 

Nothing about Wade is normal right now, no witty comebacks, not sexual innuendos. Logan's worry only grows with each moment his friend is not his usual talkative self. 

“Where are we going anyway?” Wade asks as they walk out the door.

“The boardwalk.”

“Why? That's like top date ideas for fanfic writers.” He says plainly, disturbing him further. 

“Just let me take you out.”

“Like a date? No thanks.”

“I- what? You wouldn't want to go on a date with me? I-” Logan stops, he doesn't know why he said that, or why Wade saying no sent a sharp pain through his chest. “Just come on.”

Logan walks faster, wanting to forget the feeling of Wade's rejection. When they finally arrive at their destination they are met with a colorful atmosphere with bright lights and the sound of joy framed by the deep blue black of the night sky. 

“Come here.” Logan grabs his hand and pulls him to a dart toss game. When they stand in front of the booth Logan drops his hand, a light blush creeping up his neck.

“I'm gonna win you that giant unicorn right there.” Logan says with a smile. When he looks at Wade he sees something other than sadness finally, his eyes light up and a smile starts to form. 

. . .

“That game is rigged.” Logan snarls as they walk away.

“Yeah, this unicorn is definitely not worth anywhere near the $200 you spent trying to win it.” Wade beams as he squeezes the plush tightly. “Thank you.”

“I didn't exactly plan to spend all the money I brought trying to get that unicorn…” Logan looks sheepishly to Wade. 

“S’alright honey badger. We can go home and play poker.” Wade winks. “There’s a specific one I’m thinking of that doesn’t involve money.” He wiggles his eyebrows. 

There it is. 

. . .

“So are you going to tell me what's going on?” Logan breaks the silence halfway through their walk back. 

“I-” Wade stops and Logan follows suit, turning to look at him. “I didn't think it would be like this. I didn't think I would feel disappointed being…normal. Maybe it's because I know I'll have to go back to my regular ol’ ugly mug when this is over.”

“That's what this is about?”

“And…”

“And what Wade?”

“You don't like that me.” His answer is nearly inaudible, “but clearly you like this me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You married this me. Called me pretty boy. This version of me is what you want. The one you want to hang around, try to cheer up. The one you won a stupid stuffed unicorn for.”

“That's what this variant wants. I don't want this. I don't want to be stuck here where everything is normal and you aren't you.” Logan continues enraged, “I'm trying to cheer you up, I won that for you. Not your variant. I can't wait to escape this hell and go back to normal.”

Wade's eyes glisten with tears, one spills over and Logan wipes it away before cupping his cheek. “Come on, let's go ho-”

A sudden scream from a nearby alley echoes through the quiet. Wade runs full speed towards the sound, Logan hot on his heels. When they reach the source they find a woman being held at gunpoint. 

“Gimme your purse lady!” The man dressed in all black pushes her against the brick building behind her. 

Before she can comply the men catch the robbers attention, “Cliché much?” Wade yells out. 

“Mind your business asshole.” The man retorts. 

“Watch your fucking mouth in front of the lady!” Wade charges full force towards the man unicorn still in hand.

Logan follows yet again, he flings his fists out before recalling that he is powerless. Fear courses through his body as he yells, “Wade no, you can't!”

Just then a shot rings out through the alley and Wade falls to the ground, stuffing and blood flying everywhere. The man runs off and Logan drops to his knees next to Wade, screaming for the woman to call an ambulance. He puts pressure on the wound in his stomach, tears stream down his face as Wade looks up at him from below. 

“Fuck, don't do this to me, please.” He pleads

“It's fine, I'll heal.” Wade says weakly.

“No, you won’t, you idiot. You can't leave me like this.”

. . .

Logan is a mess of emotions, his mind continuously revolving around one thought. This is his fault. If they had just stayed home… if he hadn't spent all their money on the one stupid game so they could stay longer… if he had rushed the asshole with the gun before Wade could, he would be the one on death's doorstep instead. He deserved it, he fucked up plenty in his life. Wade didn't deserve to bear the brunt of his mistakes. 

After hours and hours in surgery the doctor enters the waiting room, “Mr. Wilson, your husband is in recovery now. He's got a long road ahead, but he'll be fine.”

“When can I see him?”

“He won't be awake for a while, but you can stay with him, come this way.”

. . .

Logan sits in a chair beside Wade's hospital bed. Head in his hands, contemplating everything he's feeling at the moment. The relief is there, but something else nags at him, eating away at his insides until it bursts forth in a fit of word vomit.

“I’m so sorry Wade, this is all my fault. I should have just stayed home with you. I just want to go back to our home, in our timeline, with our people. I don't know what I would do if I lost you too. I've lost so many fucking people, but I don't know if I could survive losing you. I don't know if I'd want to.”

He sighs heavily as the weight of his words settle in his chest. Exhaustion takes its hold and he finally drifts off, sitting up in the chair. 

He's standing in the alley again, the moment Wade gets shot replays in slow motion, again and again. He is unable to move from his spot as he watches on in horror, entirely useless. He jolts awake to find Wade safe in front of him, happily snacking on jello.

“Hey Peanut. Are you good? Looked like one hell of a nightmare.”

He nods his head, relief seeping through his pores as he looks at the man in front of him. “I'm fine, I'm just…happy to see you awake.”

“Is she okay?”

“Who?”

“The woman, from the alley?”

“Yeah, she made it out without a scratch thanks to your dumb ass.”

“Then it was worth it.”

Logan's face falls. His head and his heart conflicted by Wade's words. Sure, he's glad the woman is safe, but at what cost? Is it selfish to wish they never came across the situation?

“Hey, I'm fine. I did hear everything you said Logi Bear…” Wade says as he focuses on getting the remains of the Jello. Logan's head snaps up, a look of panic on his face, “The clown strippers, the giant hot air balloon that looks like a dick, the thing with the birds…” 

Logan rolls his eyes, realizing Wade is fucking with him. 

“So you did say something vulnerable and touching! I was just taking a guess. You know, it's guaranteed when any character is asleep in a hospital, whoever is with them makes some grand confession.”

“Maybe I'll tell you when we get back home.” He says with an air of finality. 

. . . 

“Daddy!” Laura runs into the room ahead of Vanessa. 

“Whoa there,” Logan catches her before she attempts to jump onto Wade's bed. “We have to be very careful, Daddy got hurt. You have to be gentle when you sit with him, okay honey?”

Laura looks up, big doe eyes full of confidence, “Okay Papa!”

His heart melts at the sight as he places her next to Wade on the bed, he wraps his arms around her and kisses the top of her head. He's enjoying every second of the part he's playing, something Logan never would have guessed. 

“Thanks for bringing her by, and taking care of her while we're here.” Logan says to Vanessa. 

“Anything for the two of you. I'll be back for her in a few hours. Text me if you need anything, okay?”

He nods a silent thank you to her, eternally grateful that he doesn't have to deal with all of this alone. 

Laura presents Wade a book, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. “Can we finish it?”

“I just hope this timeline’s JK isn't a terf that our variants are supporting.” He chides, “but yes tiny peanut, we can finish it.”

He opens the book and reads to her as Logan watches in awe. He's different again, but not in a bad way. In a way that Logan appreciates, his voice is softer, his usual asides are a bit more kid friendly, and he's smiling. A lot. Logan can't help but smile too. 

The happiness doesn’t last long as the time drags by, days passing so slowly it’s torturous. The smells and sounds of the hospital igraine itself on Logan's senses, grating his nerves more by the day. The monotony does little to alleviate the worry building through him every moment his thoughts are allowed to roam. 

He puts on the mask of a brave face for Wade but the cracks become more evident the closer they get to the two week mark. 

“Peanut,” Wade says softly, breaking his blank stare at the TV, “what's going on, you've been… broody. Like, the kind of broody you were when we first met.” his voice trails off as he makes the connection between his history and his behavior now. 

“Leave it alone.” Logan says gruffly, fighting against every fiber of his being to go find a bar to drown his feelings. It was easier without the healing factor, cheaper too.

“No way. You tried to help me so–”

“Yeah, and look where it got ya! You could have died, and it would have been my fault. Again.”

“Lo, stop-”

“No, you stop! You pretend everything’s peachy, but I could have got you killed. It doesn't matter where I am, destruction follows. I'm fucking cursed.”

Without another word Logan leaves. He can't stand it anymore, he needs to get away from the people he cares about. Wait the rest of this hell out, then return to the void and let Alioth take him. It's what he should have done before. 

He hides in the home their variants share, every call and knock on the door goes unanswered. It's only a few more days before Ouroborus arrives to return him to normal. The relief that washes over him nearly brings him to tears when he opens the door.

“Let's make this quick. You step through the portal, your variant will stay behind, you'll be you again.” He says as he crosses the threshold. 

“Wade?” 

“Already home.”

“Can you send me to the TVA? I have something to take care of.”

. . .

Logan opens his eyes to a familiar sight, 20th Century Fox. 

He doesn't really know where to go from here, so he wanders the vast open plains, hoping that Alioth will swallow him whole sooner, rather than later. Eventually he comes across a welcome familiar sight, Sister Margarets. 

He enters the dilapidated building surprised to find plenty of liquor still available, maybe Remy hadn't found this place, he thinks to himself. He grabs an arm full of bottles and situates himself at a table to await the sound of his impending death. 

He drinks heavily straight from the bottle, trying hard not to think about the pain he brings wherever he goes. Eventually, with enough alcohol, the numbness overtakes him, his vision goes fuzzy at the edges and his head spins, another deep gulp sends him over the edge and his head falls to the table with a thud as he passes out. 

Eventually he wakes to the sound of rumbling thunder roaring towards him. A mixture of relief and despair pulses in his chest as he steps out into the open and takes in the view of the monstrous clouded being in the distance. Slowly he walks forward, allowing his mind to wander to Laura, Vanessa, Al, dogpool, Peter, Wade. His family. He closes his eyes, allowing their images and happy memories to play in his head as the beast approaches quickly.

“Logan!” he hears Wade’s voice calling to him as his face appears in his mind's eye. 

Suddenly he’s pulled back towards the bar, entirely caught off guard by the change. His eyes shoot open and he turns to see wade, “Logan, what the fuck are you doing? Come on!”

Logan pulls away and faces Alioth again, “Let me go Wade, you’d be better off without me around. Everyone would.”  “You selfish fucking prick, no. We wouldn’t be.” A loud shot resounds and Logan’s vision goes dark. 

. . .

“Oh, look who’s finally awake.” Wade stands over Logan as his eyes flutter open and he lifts his head. “Did you shoot me in the fucking head?”

“Yeah Peanut. I shot you in the head to keep you from unaliving yourself. Ironic, but it worked.” Wade Scolds.

“Why couldn’t you just let me go?” He closes his eyes and lets his head fall back to the floor with a thump.

Wade scoffs and walks towards the bathrooms of the bar. The dread Logan feels at this moment makes him sick to his stomach, he knows he needs to do something to convince Wade to let him do this, he'll waste too much time fighting him otherwise. Logan makes his way to the door of the bathroom he entered and sits just outside the door.

“I can’t keep living like this Wade, I just hurt everyone around me. None of you deserve whatever comes for you if I stay. If I’m not around you can all live happy lives.”

Wade exits the bathroom and sits next to Logan, with his mask removed he can see the tears that glisten in his eyes. “I’m going with you then.”

“No Wade, you’re not. You’ve got plenty to live for, you’ve got Vanessa.You’ll be happier without me.” Logan stands and returns to the entrance of the bar. He opens the door to see that the danger has passed and he allows a heavy sigh to deflate him.

He feels a hand on his shoulder and turns to see Wade, tears freely flowing. “I will not be okay without you, and Vanessa is just as much your friend as she is mine.”

“Wade I-”

“Please don’t leave me.” Wade’s words strike a nerve, the visual of him the hospital bed invading his mind, bringing tears to his own eyes.

“You almost died, and it was my fault!” he shrugs his hand off his shoulder.

“It wasn’t your fault Logan!”

“If I hadn’t taken you-”

“It was my fault. I knew what I was doing when I took that tempad.” Wade looks down in shame, “I didn’t mean for you to get caught up in it too. It was just supposed to be me. I wanted to be normal for a bit. Know what it was like.”

“You risked your life to feel normal in a timeline that you were stuck with me?”

“You say that like you're not a total catch.”

“I'd say I can't believe you'd do something so stupid, but I'd be lying.” 

Wade chuckles, “Please, tell me you'll stay.”

“You can't change my mind. It was still my fault, I couldn't protect you. I don't want to be the reason the people I love die.”

“You…love me?”

“Fuck, of course, you're…my best friend.” Logan whispers, rubbing his face in exasperation as he turns back to the bar. “It doesn't matter, I'm not good enough. Go back home to Vanessa.”

Wade’s face drops, “I don't want her, I just- If I can't leave with you, I'm not going.”

“Why do you have to be so fucking stubborn?”

“Because I love you, and not just because you're my best friend, I'm in love with you, and I can't do this, I can't watch you destroy yourself like this. It fucking hurts Logan. I wouldn't be okay. I don't care if you don't feel what I feel, I just… I can't lose you, please. We can get you help…please, come home.” Wade sobs.

“Okay.” Logan is just as shocked by his answer as he is by Wade's confession. It takes a moment for his brain to catch up, but when it does, he finds himself with his arms wrapped around Wade, profusely apologizing. Wade settles into the crushing hug, holding on tight.

. . . 

A four month hiatus from TVA work, therapy, and no alcohol. Logan was feeling lighter, better equipped to handle the fierce emotions he felt at his lowest. He still has so much work to do, but he was well on his way. 

The initial embarrassment of needing the help quickly fell to the wayside when Wade offered to keep quiet about the situation until he was ready to talk about it himself. The whole experience helped him see Wade in a new light, he was still the same off the wall merc with a mouth, but he cared deeply for Logan's well being, and it showed more and more as every new challenge arose. 

Soon after their return Wade gave Laura his spot in the apartment with Althea and proposed a new living arrangement to Logan. Just the two of them, he could still have Wade for support, but his own space to escape to if needed. 

. . .

One afternoon as the light streams into the living room, casting an angelic golden glow on Wade as he sits on the floor playing with dogpool, Logan admires him. His soft smile as he talks to her about the upcoming doggy pageant she'll be a part of, the ridiculous plan to dominate the competition, the weird references he makes that Logan doesn't understand. Over time things that he once found annoying about the Merc he came to appreciate. 

Logan is too lost in thought to realize that Wade has spoken to him. “Huh?”

“I was asking what you think would be best for the talent portion Wolvie! Knife throwing or a gymnastics routine?”

Logan snorts a laugh, “Why not both?”

“Genius!” Wade looks down to Mary, “ohh, someone's butthole’s puckered! You need to go for walkies?” Mary prances around in reply.

“Mind if I tag along?”

“Wolverines need walkies too!” Wade smiles up at Logan, “let's make it kinky, I'll get your leash.” He says with a wink.

Logan rolls his eyes, “Watch it, mouth.” 

. . .

“Wade?” Logan stops and turns to him as they make their way back to the apartment. 

“Yeah Peanut?”

“I want to thank you.”

“No need to thank me, I'll take you for walkies any time. Exercise releases happy chemicals that make your brain go brrrr. You know what else does? Fu-” “Wade! Listen to me.”  Wade puts his hands up in mock surrender and allows him to continue, “I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me in the last year. Bringing me into your home, helping me through… everything.”

“It’s what you do for the people you love.” Wade says with a smile. “Keeping that sweet ass around for eye candy is just an added boner, I mean bonus.”

Logan chuckles at the crudeness he’s come to expect, “There was something else,” he moves closer to Wade, searching his eyes, “I-” Logan closes the distance between them, wrapping his arms around Wade’s waist and pulling him close. “I’m in love with you Wade. Please tell me you still feel the same.”

“Ah, it’s one of those dreams.” Wade says disappointedly.

“I understand.” Logan hangs his head and releases Wade before walking into the apartment building. Wade stands where he left him in shock. 

“That’s never happened in these dreams before.” Wade pinches himself, “Ouch! Oh, fuck.”

He runs up the stairs and slams the apartment door open, catching sight of Logan just as he slips into his room and closes the door.

“Here baby.” He releases Mary Puppins to run free before going to knock on Logan’s door. “Lo, I’m sorry, I was confused. Can we talk?” The door swings open and Logan leans against the frame, eyes red and glistening with unshed tears. 

 “You don’t wanna be stuck with this do you?” Wade points to his face with a sardonic chuckle, “You’re just confused right? My feelings never changed, but you don’t need to do this out of some sort of weird obligation for helping you, I know this-”

He’s cut off when Logan crashes into him, an arm slipping back around his waist with the other resting against the side of his neck as he pulls him into a searing kiss. A year of longing funneled into a passionate embrace that neither wants to break as Wade clutches onto Logan. 

“I’ve wanted to tell you for so long, but I need to be better for you.” Logan says after finally breaking the kiss, “I fucking love you.”

-End

. . .

WHOA WHOA WHOA, you can't just leave a glaring plot hole like that. Come on, tell us what happened to our variants after we left! One of em woke up in a hospital after getting shot, two weeks of missing time, and a raging hard on!

Bro, no one cares about that, they just wanted to read about Logan realizing he caught feelings for you. They honestly might have wanted smut too, but I thought it might cheapen the story. I was focusing on your pasts and insecurities, really wanted to hone in on that, explore those thoughts and feelings.

You write so much fucking smut and you couldn't do me a solid here? Plot hole and a cock block. I'm with everyone else on this site, I WANNA FUCK THAT OLD MAN. no lube, no protection, all night all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to bedroom, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, exponential, logarithmic, while i gasp for air and scream the lord's prayer, HE CAN TOP ME. 

Look, I get it. Me too, sincerely, from the bottom of my heart, I'd tap that. I'm sorry, but you're not fucking in this one. 

How about part 2, ALL SMUT. 

Maybe if I can get a few comments or reblogs asking for it. 

I BESEECH THE, USERS OF TUMBLR, PLEASE, GET ME LAID. 

Wait, I thought you wanted to know about the plot hole. 

Nah, I'm too horny now.

[violetfairydust]

WIP Whenever

Thank you to the lovely @endwersed for tagging me! I'm really excited about ghost whispering Stiles, so here's a conversation between him and Laura.

-

The darkness swallowed the world leaving the only sight in front of Stiles the chill of his breath. He swung the bat back and forth while he waited for hopefully nothing. The preserve was asleep. He stood with the soles of his shoes glued to the ground. He shouldn’t have been left alone. He may have been in the safest corner of the woods, but if it was just him and his bat he couldn’t protect himself from the coven. Being stationed at one of the higher points made him the watchtower.

“Useless, isn’t it?” Laura said.

“Having me here?”

“Vampires are just as fast as werewolves, if not faster. You won’t be able to see them move. And that bat won’t stop one.”

“And why are you here? To keep me company?”

“I have a... special type of sight, too, you know. It’s lighter on this side. It may be two in the morning for you, but for me, it’s dusk.”

He scoffed. “You’re here to protect me?”

“I can see things you can’t.”

“That’s pretty laughable when you’re saying that to the ghost whisperer.”

She leaned against the trunk behind Stiles. He only turned when a branch snapped under her boot.

“I wanted to ask you some questions.” Her eyes followed the trail to the right, checking for unwanted guests. “I’ve never met anyone who can actually see us. The number of people who call themselves ghost hunters who come traipsing into our house with their recorders and cameras can’t.”

“You don’t show yourselves to Zak Bagans?”

She cracked a smile. “Sometimes I knock things over, blow cold air, but you’ll never catch me on camera. That’s Aurora. And I thought I was asking you questions? How did you get it? There are only rumors of people like you.”

“It’s genetic. We call it the Sight. My mom’s mom had it and her grandmother and her grandfather.” He shrugged. “It just happened.”

“Does your dad know?”

Stiles scoffed again. “Yeah, no. There’s no fucking way he’d believe it. He’d have me committed. I’ve never had a reason to tell him, and it doesn’t affect him, so it doesn’t matter. I don’t really want him to know. I don’t want him to look at me differently.”

Laura nodded. Relief prickled in his chest she wasn’t going to press it.

“How many of us do you see in a day?”

“At school? Dozens. Just around town? Hundreds.” Stiles shrugged. “I’ve gotten used to it.”

“Do we look different?”

“There’s a... a kind of... faintness about you. It’s like you’re muted. I can’t see through you, but you’re not in full color, either. It’s like a faded picture or something.”

“Huh.”

The questions stopped. Too many sprouted in his mind to pick one to ask. What was the other side like? Was there even one? Did she see a white light when she died? Was her family there to greet her? How did she see him? How could she tell he had the Sight?

Her breath came out fast. Her eyes were locked on something in the distance. The lines in her forehead deepened. When Stiles looked in that direction, he couldn’t see anything but darkness. It was darker than it should have been, darker than the rest of the woods.

“Stiles,” she breathed tightly, “hide.”

-

I'm not sure who has and hasn't been tagged, but I tag you if you want to have a go!

[dontcallpanic]

I was tagged by the unbelievably incredible @patolemus to do a not-wednesday WIP. And it's wednesday! So have a not-wednesday wednesday WIP!

Because you are the queen of breaking and filling my heart with your beautiful writing I wanted to share something deep and meaningful and profound. But I can only write goofy situational humour. So have this from the small strange town au WIP instead!

____________

Stiles only makes it about ten paces down the street before he hears the bang of a door and angry sounding footsteps. He’s not even sure how footsteps can sound angry but somehow they do. He doesn’t turn around because hey, not everything is about him and in this case, he really hopes it’s not about him. Besides he only knows Alison in this town and he may not know her well, but he knows her well enough to know she doesn’t stomp.

Then someone shouts his name.

Again? Seriously? How can this many people want to talk to him, he’s barely been here a day!

He turns around slowly, exercising a healthy amount of trepidation, wondering what the hell is going to happen now. His worries aren’t at all assuaged when he sees Cora of all people, stalking towards him with a perpetual scowl drawn across her face.

Stiles tries his hardest, he really does, but he can’t help taking a reflexive step back in the face of such unwarranted aggression. He does however, manage not to raise his hands in surrender as she walks right up to him and thrusts a paper bag into his chest.

“Here,” she says baring her teeth at him in what Stiles thinks is supposed to be a smile. Or an intimidation tactic.

It’s definitely an intimidation tactic.

“Wha – what the. What?” Stiles says eloquently, flinching bodily as if she has just handed him a live racoon. “What is it?”

Cora rolls her eyes.

“It’s food?” She says. The dumbass is implied.

Stiles blinks and stares suspiciously at the paper bundle. “Why is it?”

Cora rolls her eyes again and Stiles watches in awe as the corner of her mouth actually curves up in a sneer. He wishes his own sneer was that effective. This one could wither a man’s testicles at 50 paces. 10/10. Very effective. He swallows hard.

“Laura called,” Cora snaps. “She said you probably hadn’t eaten today and I had to give you food if you showed up – or whatever.”

She literally looks like she is too cool to be having this conversation with him and Stiles can’t help but feel like he’s the one who inconvenienced her, even when she was the one who chased him down. He quite literally, does not know how to feel about any of this.

“I uh. Wow. Um Thanks? That’s… nice?”

“Yeah, calm down. It’s just yesterday’s leftovers.” She turns to walk away before she abruptly spins back around and pokes a very threatening finger towards his chest.

“And stay out of the woods.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Wh - why should I stay out of the woods? What's in the woods? What do you know about the woods?”

Cora literally growls in frustration and throws her hands up in the air.

“Or don’t – whatever. I don’t care. But don’t say I didn’t warn you, okay!”

And with that she spins around and stomps back into the coffee shop leaving Stiles gaping after her.

“Ohmygod, this town is weird,” Stiles mutters to himself, shaking his head and throwing an arm up in exasperation or despair – even he’s not sure at this point.

“Don’t worry dearie,” says a little old lady, awkwardly patting his elbow as she shuffles past. “She’s like that with everyone.”

“Oh. Great – thanks!” Stiles calls after the lady’s retreating back. “That makes me feel… so much better,” he trails off, the usual sarcasm falling a little flat but he supposes that’s only to be expected after receiving both threats and lunch in the same conversation.

Unfortunately, for Cora at least, she needn’t have bothered. All Stiles heard is ‘there’s definitely something going on in the woods. You really need to check this out.’ And let’s face it anyway, who really hears ‘don’t go into the woods’ and thinks ‘huh. That’s not suspicious at all. There’s definitely nothing there and I’d better not look.’

People just love to be dramatic.

______________

I always feel awkward tagging people in these because I'm extremly conscious of how incredibly well all the amazing people I could tag can write (and that they might have to read this if I tag them!) and I also don't want to bother anyone! But there's so many people I'd love to read snippets from sooo no pressure tags include:

@gege-wondering-around @hellameyers @oldefashioned (just if you want to share at any point when you're back <3) @patolemus (again if you wanna share anything else now or in the future!)

And anyone else who wants to - feel free to tag me too!

I have been obsessed with what everyone has been sharing recently! There have been SO MANY amazing words I can barely cope!!

[endwersed]

WIP Whenever

Tagged by the lovelies that are @dear-massacre & @violetfairydust 💘

Here's a little snippet from my main WIP: an ABO humans-as-second-class-citizens AU 😊

-

“Um, yeah,” Stiles stutters out, trying not to cringe at the strength of Talia's grip. “That’s... hi. It’s nice to, uh – to be here, too.”

Her painted mouth is pursed as she releases his hand, and he quickly tucks it behind his back, flexing his sore fingers out of sight from her appraising stare. There is an almost regal posture to her as she stands, her shoulders drawn back and her torso stretched out, her hands clasped together in front of her stomach. It makes him want to shrink a little, to be honest, but he fights that instinct back down.

“Yes, I can imagine,” she says primly, before letting her gaze drift to his side, where it lands heavily on her eldest daughter. “And has my Laura been behaving herself?”

Not really, he thinks.

“Yeah, absolutely,” he says out loud, smiling briefly at Laura with a tip of his head. “She’s been nice enough to start showing me around the place.”

Laura smirks back at him. “I’m a regular one-woman welcoming committee.”

Talia hums, narrowing her gaze towards Laura for a moment.

“Yes. Quite.” The corners of her eyes crinkle as she pulls her focus back to him. It should be a kind expression, of laughter lines and etchings of joy, but instead of any of that, it just seems disingenuous. “So, Mr Stilinski. You graduated high school last month, is that correct?”

He nods. “Yes, ma’am.”

“And you’ll be starting college after your time with us here?” she presses.

“Nursing school,” he corrects carefully. “I have a place locally back in Beacon Hills.”

Talia’s smile, perfectly perfunctory at best up until this point, suddenly shifts into something actually like real. Her teeth flash, and there is a certain sharkish quality to it that makes his heart want to miss a beat in his chest, because it’s nothing like Laura’s specific brand of vibrant cheekiness.

No. With Talia, it’s almost… malevolent.

Huh, he thinks. He’s never noticed that before, when he’s seen her photographs in the papers.

“My son is due to begin medical school in the fall,” she announces proudly, and he doesn’t miss the way that Cora rolls her eyes down at the floor, just behind her mother's vision. “My boy, Derek. I imagine you’ve heard of him.”

Oh – Stiles has heard of him, all right. Being the only son and the only alpha, and with his dashing good looks and notoriously bad attitude, Derek Hale is by far the most well-known of all of the Hale children. And that – that is saying something, considering how much press time Laura and Cora get.

For sure, Stiles knows precisely who he is.

Also, he may or may not have jerked off to a shirtless picture or two (or twenty) that the paparazzi managed to snap of the guy at a private beach about a year back, too.

Obviously, he does not say this part out loud to the guy's mother.

“Yep,” he says instead, nodding slightly. “That’s, uh… great. For him.”

“Yes, it is.” There is a sharpness to her tone that implies she is not at all impressed with Stiles’ underwhelming levels of enthusiasm. He ducks his head and shuffles under the discomfort. “Well. I should let you and dear Laura get back to your tour. I do hope you enjoy your stay with us here, Mr Stilinski.”

“Thank you,” he hastens to reply. “I – I’m sure I will.”

-

No pressure at all tags! @aurevell @crownofstardustandbone @hedwig221b @lucky-bishop @thotpuppy

[utilitycaster]

🔥 about each member of the mighty nein (instead of sending you a million separate asks lol)

Fjord - this is actually the only character from all of Critical Role where if someone does not like that character I am immediately done with anything they have to say. Ashton and Vex are my favorites from C3 and C1 respectively but I get not being particularly into what they're doing even if I disagree, but like, if you don't like Fjord you either have no understanding of the idea of characters being defined by their settings and narratives and vice versa and therefore you have no media analysis statements worth hearing; or you made a snap judgement based on like 20 minutes of campaign 2.

Beau - I wish the circlet had gone to Veth; I liked Beau's arc a lot but she started as one of my favorites and was later surpassed by a number of other characters and I think it was in part because I liked her getting things the hard way and also doing more with the Cobalt Soul and Dairon than she ultimately ended up doing.

Caleb - I think I kind of covered it with my post about his trauma recently, namely, I think he's a fantastic character and Liam did a great job and also whenever someone acts like Caleb is objectively correct at all times or should have murdered everyone in the assembly it's a MASSIVE red flag.

Veth - weirdly unpopular in this fandom but I like her more as a halfling. Also, I actually think arcane trickster was a phenomenal fit for Sam mechanically even though he wants more spells and would love to see him do another 1/3rd or half caster.

Jester - I feel I've covered my main one repeatedly (people LOVED to talk about her agency and the second she kissed the wrong person she was suddenly a stupid baby girl who didn't know what was good for her) so I think my other one is that as with all of Laura's characters she is much more fun, especially early on, if you lean into the fact that she does say a lot of shit that makes people really uncomfortable or annoyed instead of trying to turn this into a SHE LOVES SO HARD AND NO ONE LISTENS because both can be true, your love can come out in ways that people are very annoyed by, this is how cats feel all the time actually, and so much of Jester's arc is figuring out how to share this love in a way that other people can appreciate without losing her own personality in the process.

Caduceus - I've also covered this a zillion times but I will say it again, Caduceus deflected so many attempts to check in with him and he does not want to like, fix Molaesmyr, he was not neglected, he was built out to be a character who was more of a low-key support guy and Taliesin did an incredible job with that.

Molly - honestly my unpopular opinion remains that I simply found him very well built and a great concept and also irritating as hell, and the Nein's response to him was valid but the fandom's post-death lionization was very tiresome. I'm genuinely not sure the party could have bonded the way they ultimately did if someone who was throwing around "enthrall" like that were still around.

Kingsley - now, while I don't mind if you dislike Kingsley, acting like Kingsley and Molly are the same character is actually equal to the not liking Fjord thing; that's an instant "this person's interpretations of media are so bad I am blocking so as to not accidentally see anything they have to say."

Yasha - I'm not sure I have any unpopular opinions? I do think she is at times underappreciated but I also think specifically she is, like Caleb, a victim of the terrible and weirdly common fandom idea that the only way to move on from abuse and horror is by killing everyone and everything that hurt you rather than rejecting violence and finding your own path and your own meaning.

Essek - sticking specifically to his role in the Nein, again, I love Essek and he is a member of the party and also he is an NPC and acting deeply offended that he doesn't get the same treatment in terms of comic books or merch or appearances in one-shots is very childish.

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

wip wednesday

thought i would do this since it's gonna be really hot again over the next few days and heat always makes me super sick (i wouldn't last 5 minutes in avernus lol)

for context it's part of a fic i thought to write since i felt like i didn't fully explore the Raphael-hunts-Tav request i got from a lovely person (and i also wanted to write something dark again since i am not good at it)

welcome to me writing mean and angry raph lol (tbh can't be sure if i will finish this)

thank you laura for labbing raph's dialogue with me ❤️

-

“Why would a power-hungry magelet with a chip on his shoulder abandon decades of ambition for some little bint he found on the roadside, when he could have hundreds – thousands of warm and willing holes to wet his cock with if he becomes a so-called god? Do you think you’re worth that sacrifice? Does Gale think you are? I’m sure he says lots of sweet things when he’s inside you, just as I’m sure he said the same things to Mystra, and we all know how that worked out…”

“Stop,” Tav begged. Sobbed.

“No,” the devil sneered. Utterly merciless. “It’s high time you faced the reality of your actions. You have doomed a future for the githyanki free from tyranny, you have doomed your friends’ chance to escape the emperor’s machinations, and you have doomed yourself, sweet pet, to reap what you sow – all for the sake of a man who rolled over you because you were the first woman in years to say yes. You wanted to enter my house without permission? Then you’ll stay for eternity.”

“You can’t keep me here!”

“I think you’ll find I can, girl,” Raphael rasped, malicious, quiet. His gaze flayed her alive, peeled away layers of skin and muscle to stare at her very soul. “For in this house, in this pocket of Hell, I am the master, and that means I can do whatever I want.”

A sick, bitter pill to swallow: he was right.

“Fine!” Tav laughed maniacally, the futility of the situation driving her to anger. “Fine, you evil bastard! I suppose you’ll have a pet squid soon, then. Have you always wanted one of those? Was it a boyhood dream, if you were a boy once? I hear ink stains are a bitch to get out of silk rugs.” As soon as she said it, Tav wished she had kept her mouth shut. She’d done everything wrong since entering that portal. Everything. Raphael’s shrewd yellow eyes narrowed as he considered something. Tav watched him raise his fingers, ready to snap, with dawning horror; if he did this, she wouldn’t just be stuck with him forever. She would owe him forever. A fate so much worse. “No! Wait! You don’t – I’m sure I won’t transform! It’s different in Hell, right?!”

“I’d rather not take the chance,” Raphael murmured, enjoying this moment of despair. “I’m not too fond of tentacles, you see. And besides…I promised I could be your saviour, didn’t I? Even though you hardly deserve it, but I’m nothing if not magnanimous, after all.”

CLICK. Such a small sound heralding a monumental, irreversible change.

Agony. The likes of which Tav couldn’t comprehend. Her skull splitting apart, bursting from the inside, her brains chewed up and spat out, eyes and teeth and tongue destroyed, sinuses burning…it only lasted for a few brief seconds, maybe, but the next thing she knew she was on her hands and knees. Frothy blood and bile oozed from her nose and mouth. Her body shook violently. Her head felt like it was full of water. She wasn’t sure, but she might have pissed herself a little bit. She stared up at the devil through bleary wet eyes and saw him watching her. Savouring her suffering. Floating in his palm was her tadpole, sluggish and covered in gore. Covered in her brains.

“Hmmm…I suppose I could have used less force for the extraction,” Raphael mused, unapologetic. He squinted at the ugly cosmic horror larva with disdain. “I was lead to believe these things were near-impossible to remove. Clearly not. Such weak magic. That worthless boy still has a lot to learn.” He curled his fingers inward and the tadpole caught fire, writhing and screaming as it died. Rendered to ash. Then he smiled at Tav, placid, almost business-like, as if he hadn’t just up-ended her entire existence. Her suffering had greatly improved his mood. “There we are. Now you won’t have to worry about those lovely guts of yours dissolving any time soon. Not before I get to sample them, at least.”

“I’d rather be a mind flayer,” Tav slurred quietly. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She felt hollow. Without that tadpole – as awful as it had been – she couldn’t reach her friends or even the emperor to beg for help. She knew they were pragmatic. They’d realise something went wrong and cut their losses. They wouldn’t risk storming this infernal psycho’s little castle to rescue her, not when the elder brain was so unstable and they were so close to vanquishing the Absolute cult, but at least pretending it was an option would’ve given her something to hold onto. 

“And ruin that delightful complexion of yours? Perish the thought.” The devil reached to wrap one big paw around her forearm and tugged her upright. Tav was too weak to pull away. She barely stayed on her feet. The room and everything in it swayed. Until it was forced to stop by his hot clawed hand holding her jaw firm. Raphael’s image swam into focus. He gently turned her head this way and that. He was examining her; examining his new property. “Can’t fault the magelet’s taste. You are a pretty little thing. And now you’re my pretty little thing.”

He pushed his thumb into her mouth. She could taste the sulphur and hellish magic even over the copper sticking to her gums and teeth. She bit him, tried to, but Raphael wasn’t phased. He dug his thumb claw into her tongue instead, pressing until he pierced the muscle, until Tav cried out. Fresh blood welled from the small puncture wound.

“Behave,” the devil simply said, like he was talking to a naughty puppy. 

“Never,” Tav spat. Raphael seemed to like that answer, if the sparkle in his eyes and his rich chuckle were any indication. 

“Oh, you’ll learn, my little mouse. One way or the other.” He dragged his thumb out of her mouth, smearing blood and spit across her lips. His pupils expanded as he looked upon her. He found this arousing, Tav realised, more repulsed than she’d ever been in her life. 

“You make me sick,” she hissed. 

“You have no idea just how sick I could truly make you,” he purred around a sinister smile, “but we have all the time in the world for that, don’t we, pet? Thanks to you, I’ve got a lot more work to do now. Plans to tweak, contingencies to set up, that sort of thing. I don’t expect you to understand, but unfortunately it means I won’t be able to break you in quite yet. But fret not, you shan’t be alone. Haarlep can keep an eye on you until I return.”

[jpmarvel90]

Don't let me down - Part 8

Masterlist Scarlett Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Relationship: MamaScarlett x 16 yr old Reader

Summary: Jess meets Lizzie and Chris for the first time and the family get a surprise visit from Scarlett's lawyer, Danny.

Word count: 4728

Y/n's POV:

They're just normal people. It's what I've been telling myself for the last hour as I hide away in my room. Lizzie and Chris are coming over today and I'm really nervous. It's the one thing I've struggled with most since moving in with Scarlett. There are so many people that I need to be introduced to. Though I am grateful that she's not hiding me. She actively wants me to meet her family and friends. It shows that she really does want this.

Since moving in with Scarlett, I've gradually gotten more comfortable. My trust in her and Colin has grown so much. That pain I feel of being left, is slowly starting to fade away. Don't get me wrong, it's still there and I know there is still work in trusting Scarlett fully, but she has been doing all the right things. For the first time ever, I feel safe. I'm not waiting for her to snap and hurt me. This must be the normal childhood that people talk about!

The only thing with meeting Scarlett's friends, is that most of them are famous. It's very intimidating to be meeting people that you know are movie stars. Add the pressure of wanting to make a good impression, it's making my nerves become a little overwhelming.

"Sweetie, are you ready? They'll be here any minute." Scarlett asks me through my door. "I uh. Yeah. Just a minute." I respond, knowing that I can't hide away for much longer. "Ok, I'll be downstairs. Remember, this is all on your terms, if you're not comfortable, we can call it off and do it another day." She reminds me. Just like she has the last few days. But it would be rude to call it off now when they're almost here.

I grab my phone, hoping something might distract me there. Turns out I get my wish when I see a text from Laura waiting for me. A smile instantly creeps on my face as I open it up.

Laura ❤️ Have an amazing time today. Just be yourself and they are going to love you. I can't wait to hear all about it tomorrow. xxx

Seeing those words, gives me the confidence that I need. I quickly shoot her a text back and slip my phone into my back pocket. Taking a deep breath, I open my door and make my way downstairs where I can hear Rose excitedly greeting someone. As I round the corner, I see Rose hugging Lizzie tightly, whilst Chris is greeting Scarlett and Colin.

"Oh, you're here." Scarlett smiles widely when she sees me. "Sorry I wasn't here straight away." I apologise, but Scarlett waves me off. "No need to apologise. Now come meeting Lizzie and Chris." She says, taking my hand and pulling me towards the group. "Lizzie, Chris. This is my daughter Y/n." She introduces me with a proud smile on her face. Her hand let's go of mine and she moves it to rest on my back, providing me a comfort I didn't know I needed.

"Y/n, it's nice to finally meet you." Lizzie greets me once Rose let's her go. I can tell that she's unsure whether to hug me or not. I'm assuming Scarlett has mentioned a bit about my history and she's doesn't want to make me uncomfortable. Which I appreciate. "Wow you really do look like Scarlett." She whispers as she gets a good look at me. "Thankfully, you've been blessed with height." Chris jokes, earning a jab in the ribs from Scarlett. "What? It's the truth." He defends whilst holding his hand out to me. "It really is lovely to get to meet you." Chris says genuinely.

I take his hand easily and give it a firm shake. "Well, let's not stand in the hallway. You all get comfortable, and I'll get us all some drinks." Colin instructs with a clap of his hands. Rose takes Lizzie's hand and tugs her in the direction of the living room whilst Chris follows behind Scarlett and me.

We take up our seats on the sofa. Rose decides she wants to sit with Lizzie and Chris whilst I sit on the sofa with Scarlett. Cosmo is happily napping in his rocker next to me and I smile down at his cuteness. Rose takes the lead in socialising with our guests as she fills them in on everything that has happened recently. I'm grateful for it as it gives me a chance to relax and find my confidence.

"Are you ok honey?" Scarlett asks me quietly, not gaining attention from the others. I nod as confidently as I can. She reaches over and gives my hand a comforting squeeze. Colin is soon in with our drinks and a places a plate of cookies on the coffee table. This gets Rose's attention and she's soon distracted by the sweet goodness in front of her.

I take a sip of my coffee as a silence falls over the group. But it doesn't last for long until Lizzie speaks up. "So, have you lived in New York all your life?" She asks. I'm pretty sure I see Scarlett tense beside me at the question to my childhood. "Yes, I have. But I grew up in Brooklyn." I respond with a smile, showing Scarlett that the question hasn't bothered me. "So, the Upper East Side is a bit of a change." I add on with a chuckle. "I bet. I've been trying to convince her to relocate to Boston but with not luck." Chris jumps in. "Literally, my whole life is here. You're the only thing in Boston." Scarlett retorts. "All I'm hearing is the biggest reason to move." Chris jokes, earning an eye roll from Scarlett.

I like that Scarlett and Chris seem to have this sibling relationship. He's funny and I get the feeling he gets his kicks out of winding up Scarlett! "You went to college here, didn't you?" I ask Lizzie, hoping it doesn't sound too stalkerish. "That's right I did." She smiles widely. "I went to Tisch School of arts at NYU. I fell in love with the city and love coming back to visit." She responds. "She also spent a semester in Russia." Scarlett shares proudly. "Wow! That's amazing! I've never left the country before, let alone get anywhere near Europe." I reply, amazed she had that opportunity.

"Wait. You've never left the US?" Scarlett asks me shocked. "Nope, I don't even have a passport." I respond, but I frown when I notice the sad look on her face. "Well, that is going to chance. We'll go on holiday in the summer, and you can pick where we go." She decides. This gets Rose excited who now starts to ramble about all the places she wants to visit.

Conversation flows easily between us. Once I got over the fact, they are both famous, I found it easy to talk with them. They're funny and seem to be genuinely interested. "Y/n has been teaching me soccer." Rose tells them proudly. "I heard you play and are very good." Chris looks to me and I blush. I can't believe that Scarlett has talked about me so much. "I've just got a good team." I deflect. "That's a lie. Well, not entirely, her team is great. But Y/n is their star player. Seriously, she has some talent." Colin chimes in with a proud smile on his face.

"I think I should see a game whilst I'm here in New York. When is your next one?" Lizzie asks. Before I can answer, Scarlett is responding for me. "The next two games are away but in three weeks she's playing back here at her school." She answers, taking me by surprise that she knows it off by heart. "Well, I'm here for a couple of months so I will definitely be at your next home game!" Lizzie shares excitedly.

"Oh, you don't have to do that." I shake my head, not wanting her to go out of pity. "No, I want to. You're my niece now, so it's like a given." She smiles at me. "Niece?" I question. "She's auntie Lizzie!" Rose exclaims to me, and it seems to make sense. "And now you're my niece, we have to get a day in the diary where I can spoil you. When I visit, I always get a day with Rose, and we do everything she wants to. I'd like to do the same for you." She informs me. "Oh uh. Yeah, that would be lovely." I respond in shock.

"We'll need to find a weekend that you're not busy with soccer or your girlfriend." Lizzie smirks at me, making my cheeks instantly flush. I then move my head to Scarlett who's grinning. "You told her?!" I ask through embarrassment. "Of course, I did! You were so happy, and I was excited to share that." She defends. I want to be mad, but seeing how much she wants me to be happy and as a result how happy that makes her, I just can't.

"I'm sure I can find some time." I respond, hoping to move the topic on and not getting caught up in a conversation about my girlfriend. "Perfect. Give me your phone and I'll put my number in it." Lizzie instructs me, standing up and holding her hand out to me. I place my phone in her hand and watch slightly amazed that I'm getting Elizabeth Olsen's number!

She sends herself a text and adds my contact on her own phone. "I'll text you tomorrow when I've checked my schedule. We can arrange a date." She smiles at me. I get a warm feeling with Lizzie. She is really kind and just gives off this caring aura. "Well, now I feel left out. When I'm back in New York, I'm stealing you." Chris pouts, making us laugh. "In fact, how about to make up for it, we go out and play some soccer?" He asks. "Yes! I'm on Y/n's team!" Rose jumps up. "We'll work on dinner." Lizzie declines joining in. "I guess it's you and me buddy." Chris claps his hand on Colin's shoulder. "I think we can take them." Colin says confidently, making Scarlett scoff. "Course you can babe." Scarlett smirks, pressing a kiss to his cheek before Rose is ordering us outside.

"Oh wait!" I call after Rose, making her stop in her tracks. "I forgot I have something for you." I tell her, running off upstairs and grabbing the surprise from my backpack. When I get back downstairs, Rose is waiting patiently for me. I hand her the wrapped gift and her eyes go wide. "I spoke to coach and was able to pull a few strings." I say proudly as I watch Rose open the gift.

She is quick to tear the paper off and her eyes go wide when she see's what it is. "You go me a jersey?!" She squeals excitedly, unfolding the top and holding it in front of her. I had explained what I wanted to do to Coach Sanders and he help to put me in contact with the kit supplier. "Turn it around." I tell her and she is quick to follow my instructions. "It's got my name!" She shouts excitedly, showing Scarlett where it says Rose with the number 9 underneath, matching my own number.

"Wow, Y/n. This is amazing. You know you didn't have to do that?" Scarlett says to me, placing an arm around my shoulder as we watch Rose excitedly pull it over her head. "I know. But I wanted to do something special for Rose. I know this has been a big change in her life as well as my own. Getting her a shirt was something I could do." I explain.

When Scarlett doesn't reply, I turn to look at her and see she's already looking at me with glossy eyes. "You really are one special kid. Do you know that?" She tells, and I drop my head as my cheeks turn a red. "Thank you. You've made her week." She tells me, pressing a kiss to my head. "Come on sissy! Get your shirt too and we can match before we beat them." Rose says confidently. It makes us laugh whilst Chris and Colin look on in shock.

I do as I'm told and quickly put my own shirt on, though I hesitate when I see the name Y/l/n on the back. I run my fingers over it as my mind starts to over think. "I wish is said Johansson." I think to myself, but quickly shake my head. Maybe I am starting to see Scarlett as my mother. The more I think about it, I want this to be my family. I feel safe and loved here. Something I didn't think I'd get in life. Maybe, I need to let it happen. I can either hold on to the past and always hold a grudge against Scarlett. Or I can see that she is doing everything she can to make things right and allow her to be the mother she desperately want to be for me and the one I've so desperately needed.

Scarlett's POV:

Lizzie and I work on dinner whilst the kids are outside playing soccer. I find my gaze constantly wandering to the window to watch them playing. They all look so happy and seeing Y/n and Rose in matching shirts is so cute. I obviously made them pose for a load of photos, which they both ended up complaining at and I froze for a moment when I noticed how alike the two of them were in that moment.

I couldn't believe that Y/n went to all that effort to get Rose a top. Rose would have understood that the tops are for the players and that she couldn't have one. But Y/n made sure she got what she wanted. Rose's face lit up when she saw it and I have a feeling she's going to be wearing it all the time now.

I've adored watching their relationship grow. Y/n is so patient with Rose and always makes time for her. Considering she's 16 she could easily be hidden away in her room, but she makes the effort with both Rose and Cosmo. Getting to see my three kids altogether is everything I could ask for and I am forever thanking the Gods for allowing Y/n back in my life and giving me a chance to make things right.

"You know, I thought you were exaggerating a little when you talked about Y/n. But she really is as sweet and caring as you said." Lizzie breaks my trail of thought with her observations on my daughter. "After everything that she has been through, she has every right to hate the world, but she has so much love and goodness to give." I share, making Lizzie stop in her actions.

"You'd never know she'd experienced so much pain to look at her. I barely know her, and I want to throttle the people that hurt her." She says, a look of anger on her face. "You have to include me on that list." I admit ashamed. "Scar no." Lizzie tries to deny but I shake my head. "None of it would have happened had I not made a selfish decision 16 years ago." I say, focusing on cutting the carrots in front of me.

"You had no idea what she would end up going through. It was a horrible situation where a group of people decided they wanted to manipulate the system. You trusted she would be safe." She tries to comfort me whilst I fight back tears. "I can never forgive myself for it Lizzie. How can I ever expect her to do so." I ask her the question that has been plaguing my mind.

She reaches over and places her hands over my own, stopping my actions. She then turns my body so I'm looking out the window, her hands on my shoulders. "You are doing right by that girl now. Look at her and see the happiness. You can see it is genuine. Yes, there is pain within her, but she's healing. You need to heal yourself so you can live in the future and not get lost in the past. It's the way that you can best make things right with her. Focus on your future together as a family." She shares her words of wisdom.

As she finishes speaking, Rose scores a goal and her and Y/n celebrate together. Y/n lifts Rose into the air, cheering loudly. She's right, I can see that she is healing. She has come so far from that night we brought her home with us. I need to focus on keeping that smile on her face and not allowing my own insecurities to ruin this.

"You're right Liz." I admit. "I know. I'm always right." She sasses, making me laugh. "Ever the humble one." I chuckle. "Just remember that I'm here for you whenever you need me." She says, placing a kiss to my head and returning to the pot on the stove.

Just as we're finishing up dinner, the four of them come into the house, all laughing and smiling. "So, who won?" Lizzie asks. "That's not even a question." I jump in. "Oh, did the boys win?" Lizzie pouts at Rose as she comes in. "No! We kicked their butt!" Rose cheers triumphantly, high fiving Y/n. "I feel cheated. You said she was talented, but you didn't say she was as good as Messi." Chris complained, but a smile was still on his face.

"Oh, I know. Both of my girls are talented, and I had no doubt they would win. I think that calls for extra desert for the winners." I declare, earning another cheer from Y/n and Rose. "We'll go and get cleaned up and then come and help lay the table." Y/n says, taking Rose's hand and leading her upstairs.

"She's well trained." Chris jokes, but it makes me falter. "Sorry, did I say something wrong?" He asks when he notices the change in my demeanour. "With her adoptive parents she was always expected do everything around the house. If she didn't, she would get punished. We've been trying to show her that she doesn't need to do that here, but it's been hard to get the habit out of her." Colin explains for me.

It's been a sore spot for me. I always see the slight fear or doubt in Y/n's eyes if she doesn't do something straightaway or she feels like she should be doing something I've done. Like lay the table or clean up. I'll never forget in her first weeks here she fell into a panic attack when Colin started cleaning up before she could. She just kept saying sorry and that she will do it and we don't need to punish her. It was horrible to watch. Since then, we've both made the effort to show her that there isn't an expectation like that for her here.

Thankfully, the awkwardness doesn't last, and we focus on getting dinner served up whilst Colin wakes Cosmo and gets his own dinner ready. The girls are down shortly after and go straight to the draws to get cutlery for us all. With the table laid, Lizzie and I bring out the food and invite everyone to sit.

It's a lovely evening and I can see that Y/n has become more comfortable around Lizzie and Chris. I was right that Lizzie would take to her and want to be her bestie. She's asking lots of questions about her relationship and it's funny seeing how shy Y/n gets about it all. She's so adorable!

When it came time for Lizzie and Chris to leave, there was a lot of pouting from Rose, though Lizzie reminded her about their day together next week. She then moves her attention to my eldest. "I'll text you tomorrow to arrange our own day." She reminds Y/n who nods. "Can I hug you?" Lizzie asks tentatively.

I had noticed how she held off when she first met Y/n. I could see she was dying to wrap her in a hug, but she was being respectful and didn't push Y/n's boundaries. Lizzie is a hugger, and I knew it was a struggle for her to hold back but I'm very grateful that she was so understanding. "Of course you can." Y/n responds, opening her arms. "Yay!" Lizzie lets out a quiet cheer and practically barrels Y/n over, making her laugh.

"It really was lovely to meet you Y/n. I can't wait to get to know you even more. You'll be sick of me in no time." Lizzie jokes as she finally let's Y/n go. "It was great meeting you too. I can see why Scarlett likes you so much." She compliments. "Aw, you like me?" Lizzie teases. "You're going to pay for telling her that kid." I joke. "Some payback for everything with Laura." She quickly retorts, making me gasp. "You've gotten sassy." I smirk.

"Before you embarrass your daughter anymore, I'm going to sneak right in here." Chris says, standing between us, a hesitant look on his face. "You can have a hug too." Y/n laughs. Chris doesn't need telling twice and wraps her in a bear hug. "Hmm, you're a good hugger." Y/n smiles contently into their hug. "Thanks. I aim to please." Chris responds, giving her one last squeeze and letting her go. "When I'm back in New York, I'm coming to one of your games. I can't wait to see you in action." He tells her before moving to say goodbye to Rose.

We watch as they get into Lizzie's car and all wave them off from the door. Colin being the adorable goof he is and waving Cosmo's hand to them. With the door closed, I see Y/n let out a breath. "Was that ok? They weren't too much were they?" I ask her, a little worried. But my concerns are eased when she shakes her head. "They were not what I was expecting." She admits, sitting on the sofa.

I smile as Rose crawls next to her and she instinctively wraps a protective arm around her and pulls her into a cuddle. "They're both big kids aren't they." Y/n shares her observation making both Colin and I laugh. "You're right there!" Colin agrees. "I like them." She states simply and it makes me happy to know that it went ok. I know there are more of my close friends she's too meet, but I'm confident she'll be able to take it in her stride.

We decide to have a quiet evening and watch a movie together, though the silence is broken by a knock at the door. I get up to answer it but I'm surprised when I see Danny at the door. "Hi Scarlett, I'm sorry for coming by so late, but I wanted to share this with you as soon as I could." He greets me. I let him in as nerves start to take over.

"No problem, Danny, you're always welcome here." I respond, trying to hide my nerves. "Is Y/n here, it concerns her too." He asks. I nod and lead him into the living room. "Rosie, how about you take Cosmo into the playroom?" I suggest, knowing that we're about to have an adult conversation. She agrees easily and carefully picks up her little brother and disappears to the room next door. I switch on the monitor we have in there so I can keep an eye on them.

"Hi Danny, is everything ok?" Y/n asks, a worried look appearing on her face. I take a seat next to her and hold her hand in mine. I have no idea what he's about to share, but I have a feeling she is going to need some comfort. Colin senses this too and takes the seat the other side of her.

"I had a call this evening. Mr Woodstock had his arraignment hearing this afternoon. The state has brought a number of charges against him, but he has pleaded not guilty." As Danny shares the news, I watch as all colour drains from Y/n's face. I wrap my arm around her, and she melts into my touch, trying to gain any comfort that she can. "What does that mean?" Colin asks, the only one of the three of us with any composure.

"It will go to a jury trial. The state will build a case against him with evidence and witness testimony." He responds. "And by witness testimony you mean Y/n." I speak up, holding Y/n closer as fear builds in her eyes. "Yes, the DA has contacted me about arranging a meeting for you to talk with them. As the oldest of the children at the home, your testimony will be the most valuable." He says with a look of sympathy on his face.

"I can speak with the DA, and we can put in a request for Y/n to do it via video link, so she doesn't need to be in the same room as him. It's important that you are as comfortable as possible in this situation." Danny now directs to Y/n who is trembling slightly in my arms. She starts shaking her head and I'm sure she's about to outright deny the request.

"No. I want to be there." She declines, taking us all by surprise. "Sweetie, you don't have to." I try to reason with her, but she cuts me off. "I don't want him to think I'm scared of him. He'll think he's won. I want to look him in the eye. Had I spoken up sooner, I could have stopped him hurting the other kids too." She explains as tears start to fall down her cheeks. "Y/n, that was not your responsibility. You are just a kid and were doing your best to survive. There is no blame on you in any of this. Do you understand." Danny says firmly, his gaze never leaving Y/n's. "You were brave to step forward when you did, and we'll be by your side when you testify. But you don't have to put yourself in an uncomfortable position because you believe you have something to prove." He adds on.

I'm not comfortable with her going to a courtroom and testifying in front of the monster that hurt her. But I will support whatever decision she makes. This isn't something that I can decide for her, but it is something I must show unwavering support to. She looks to me and I give her a soft smile. "It's your choice my love. If you want to go to the courtroom, the both of us will be by your side." I reassure her. Colin places his own arm around Y/n for additional comfort as she thinks over her options.

"No, I want to be there in person. I want to show him that despite what he did, I'm happy now. I'm safe and in a home where I'm loved. Something he never wanted for us." She states confidently. I'm full of pride for my daughter. Sometimes I forget that she's only 16. Her maturity is something I marvel at.

"Ok Y/n. I'll speak with DA, and we can have our initial discussions. They'll be able to provide further information on if it will be a statement or an examination of testimony." Danny says, making my mind panic. If she is cross examined, his lawyer is probably going to do everything that he can to discredit Y/n, make her seem like a liar. That won't be any good for her mentally. "I promise you Y/n, that I will help you with everything. When you go in that courtroom, you'll be prepared for every possible scenario." Danny smiles at her. She gives a tentative smile back as he decides to leave us be, with a promise he'll be in touch tomorrow.

Colin sees him out as I just hold Y/n in my arms. I do everything in my power to comfort her in this moment. "It's ok my sweet girl. I know this is going to be tough, but you have us and we're not going anywhere. You are not alone."

Part 9