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Paternal Instinct

squid game men's x daughter reader

☆ As the title says, this is gonna be a little bit paternal, like, I'm sure they'd be the best when it comes to children (sometimes)

☆ I will put imagines in and out of games and depending on the character the reader will be of different ages.

☆ The next thing I'll post will be a request from Thanos

Hwang In-ho

● Outside of games.

You, being a teenager in this world that your father dragged you into after your mother's death, were complete chaos.

You worked as a supervisor at his side wearing a mask with the figure from the square depicted in the center and despite being part of an organization of sadists you have not killed anyone, In-ho made sure you did not have to.

You walked into your room and removed the mask from your face as let out a long sigh, it had been a long day overseeing the creation of the games that this year's participants would cross and now all you wanted to do was sleep but as soon as you dropped your body onto the soft mattress, the door opened.

In-ho, without his frotman suit, entered your room with a small cake in his hands and the candles lit.

True, it was your birthday, ¿how come you forgot your own birthday? Maybe it's because you spent the day planning the deaths of innocent people.

—I asked for this cake to be made for you —In-ho said with a small, almost imperceptible smile.

They weren't as close as before, but he cared about you and tried to pay attention to everything that had to do with you.

—Thanks —you forced a smile as you sat on the edge of your bed —But it wasn't necessary.

You wanted to take it back when you saw the slight grimace on your father's face but couldn't, you simply weren't in the mood to celebrate your birthday under these conditions, your life wasn't the best and although you didn't hold any grudge against In-ho sometimes you wondered what your adolescence would have been like if he had left you with your uncle Jun-ho and your grandmother.

—I know you think that, you can say it —He said, leaving the cake on the table next to your bed.

—¿Why didn't you leave me with Jun-ho? I don't want to live here, I've had enough with my mother's death without seeing you become a puppet for these games.

In-ho sighed and looked down, you were right, he should have left you with his brother, he could have taken better care of you than he was doing but he didn't want to abandon you, he had already lost the love of his life, he couldn't lose his little world after that.

—You are the only thing I have left —He responded with regret —Believe me, I considered it, letting you have a life you deserved but I couldn't just watch you through cameras ¿Do you think bringing you to this shit was my first choice?

You didn't respond, you just hugged him and let him return the gesture, you still didn't want to continue living there but you didn't want to leave him alone either, after all, both only had each other.

After a few minutes of silence you looked back at the cake and smiled softly.

—¿Is it chocolate?

—dark chocolate, your favorite —He left a fatherly kiss on your head and took the cake again to put it in front of you —Blew out the candles and make a wish

The smile on your father's face was enough to ease your worries for a few moments, you blew out the candles hoping that one day these games would end.

● Inside the games.

In-ho's plan was going just as he thought, he approached Gi-hun and began to gain his trust but seeing you walk towards them among all the players made his heart skip a beat.

—¿Can I be on your team? —You asked with a smile that showed your white teeth.

—¿How old are you, girl? —390 asked with a surprised expression.

—Twenty —You replied naturally, playing with your hands, but In-ho snorted and took two steps towards you.

—No —He looked at you witheringly —No —Now he turned to see Gi-hun's team —She is sixteen, no twenty ¿What are you doing here?

He ended up looking at you again, he really didn't want you to be here and worse because his lie along with his fake name Young-il would fall apart but you were smart.

—¿Do you know each other? —Asked 388, who you found cute almost immediately.

—Yes, he is a friend of my father

—¿What are you doing here? —In-ho asked again, almost desperate to get an answer. You disobeyed him and you can be sure that you will be grounded until you turn thirty.

—The same as you —You answered firmly and defiantly, your smile challenged him because you were sure that he wouldn't scold you or his whole false theater would fall apart —¿Can I be on your team?

—Sure —Dae-ho replied, smiling kindly at you.

You smiled at him too, but with other intentions, just to irritate your father a little and take advantage of the fact that he couldn't scold you now.

—Thank you —you said with a flirtatious smile and a wink, to which Dae-ho lowered his head in embarrassment.

—Sixteen —In-ho repeated with slight annoyance and a tense smile.

Dae-ho tensed and raised his hands in a sign of peace and took a step back, he was just being kind but it was better to be safe than to have to face that man who kept looking at you with annoyance and reprimand.

You would be a problem for your father because not only would you challenge him at every opportunity you had but you would also try to help Gi-hun end these games, that was your wish and nothing was going to make you change your mind.

The Salesman

● Outside of games.

The morning was calm, everything was silent and through the window you could see the clear sky with the sun shining, a good climate but a great contrast with the interior of your home.

The walls were wallpapered and the floor was shiny, you placed your hands on the cold marble table while your father placed a plate with a mountain of pancakes in front of you.

—Breakfast is ready —he said with a wide smile.

A polite smile, but most of the time it conveys coldness and threat. For you, this expression was genuine affection.

—¿Aren't you going to have breakfast with me? —You asked curiously watching him wipe his hands with the kitchen cloth and then fix his hair and walk towards the refrigerator.

—I would love to stay pumpkin but you know I have to go to work —He replied without paying much attention to you —After finishing your breakfast you take off your pajamas, get dressed formally and wait for your teacher to arrive.

You nodded silently as you used the fork to bring a piece of pancake to your mouth.

Life was monotonous.

Every day, you got out of bed to make it, had breakfast that your father prepared, bathed, combed your hair and got ready to take your private lessons at home, did your homework and at night you watched an exact hour of cartoons, brushed your teeth and went to bed.

Your father was a very organized man when it came to your schedule, you remember how one time you watched five extra minutes of television and as punishment he locked you in your room for five hours.

“Television melts your brain”

Despite everything, he loved you, you knew it, he just had a strange way of letting you know.

—I'll be back tonight, I love you pumpkin —He said approaching you to leave a kiss on your forehead.

He was a good father, but you didn't know anything about what he was doing out there.

You didn't know that he recruited and investigated people who would die playing for money or that sometimes he took on dirty jobs that his boss sent him, you didn't know what kind of person he really was and that was what the salesman wanted.

He adored you and that's why he avoided at all costs that you knew about the double life he led, he didn't want to hurt you.

However, there were certain mistakes that he regretted, one for example was that he himself had killed your mother as soon as you were born, he knew that she would want to run away with you, she did not want to continue living the life she had at his side and that was why he had to put a bullet between her eyes.

He didn't let her take you away from him, you were his daughter and even though he locked you up practically every day, he convinced himself that it was only for safety.

He only let you go out for a walk in the park and shopping malls on your birthday, once a year.

Despite how boring your life was, everything was going well until one night you heard moans and sobs coming from below your house.

You rarely heard them and this time you were very curious, you got out of bed, put on your slippers and left your room.

You silently walked down the stairs as the noises grew louder, when you reached what seemed to be the source of the sound, you saw that it was your father's secret room, a door that led to the basement was always locked, but this time... it was open just a little.

—¿Daddy? —You called him softly as you opened the door.

As you walked down the dark basement stairs, sobs mixed with opera music filled your ears, sending a shiver of fear through your entire body, you hugged your teddy bear tighter.

—The probability of dying is one in six and of surviving five in six —You heard your father's voice.

He explained with a polite smile, it was a great contrast to the situation was in, he liked to feel the adrenaline of this game and that way he could also get rid of these two men who had been following him during the day.

However, when he saw you at the bottom of the stairs with a scared expression and on the verge of tears, his smile faded and hid the gun behind him.

—¿What are you doing awake? It's past your bedtime and I told you a hundred times that you weren't allowed to come in here.

He spoke sternly and angrily, the two men he had tied to a respective chair began to make desperate sounds to get your attention, as if you were the only way to get out of there.

—¡Silence! —He shouted furiously making you jump a little in your place, you hadn't seen this side of him —Go to your room, ¡now!

Once you ran out of there, he took out his gun again and pointed it at the man in the red shirt. He was the one who made the most noise and that's why you woke up.

—Excellent, y'all traumatized a nine-year-old girl —He said with a tense smile

Although it was also his fault, he knew that at any moment you would discover his work anyway, but he hoped that wouldn't happen soon.

After you returned to your room you couldn't sleep, a couple of hours passed until your father opened the door and cautiously entered.

—You were disobedient —he began in a serious voice —And as a result you saw something you shouldn't have.

You were still lying face down with your face hidden in the pillow, he still had the loaded gun in his hand, he knew what had to do or else you would cause trouble.

But him couldn't.

The ease with which he killed his father was surprising but he couldn't kill you, you were the only thing that gave this home humanity and the mere thought of ending it made his stomach turn.

He clenched the gun in his hand and twisted his lips, after a long mental battle he put the gun in his pants and sat next to you.

—There are many things that you still won't understand, but what you can be sure of is that I am your father and I love you —With his hand he caressed your hair and felt you relax a little. —No matter what you saw down there, you will still be my daughter, but there will be some changes in this house.

You remained silent, you felt distrust but he was still your father, he was the only thing you knew and even if you were afraid of him you couldn't leave there, you had nowhere to go.

After a few minutes you sat up in bed and hugged him for comfort. He just caressed your hair and kissed your head.

Hwang Jun-ho

● Outside of games.

Being the daughter of a police officer had its advantages and disadvantages.

One advantage was that you could brag about it whenever someone bothered you at school, including teachers, and a big disadvantage was that you rarely got to spend time together as a father and daughter.

Jun-ho worked constantly but he also tried to keep an eye on you. "She's your daughter, before you know it she'll be your age," his mother constantly repeated to him reproachfully, she was right, time was flying and if he continued looking for his lost brother or working double shifts at the police station he would miss more years of your life.

For that reason, he decided to leave work early that day, and went to buy two hamburgers, some chips and candy while he thought of some fun activity to strengthen the family bond.

But when he got home he found you sitting at the table next to your teacher.

He twisted his lips, assuming you had gotten into trouble.

It was no surprise, you missed some classes, you didn't bring homework and your grades weren't the best but you were a great girl in terms of your behavior, just very distracted and Jun-ho couldn't help but feel guilty about that behavior on your part, yeah, sometimes you did it to get his attention.

After talking for two hours with your teacher she left and your father looked at you tiredly.

—You haven't taken any algebra classes, if you continue like this you'll fail the year.

You formed a fake smile on your lips.

—The teacher hates me —You stated, getting up from your chair to go towards the bag that your father had brought. —You left work early.

—I thought I'd do something fun, you know... father-daughter

You saw him with a raised chest, it was not usual, it was already customary for Jun-ho to spend most of the day outside the house, either looking for your uncle or immersing himself in his work.

—¿It's a holiday and I forgot? —You asked funny and sarcastic, turning around to get a juice from the refrigerator.

—Funny —he responded falsely —Now bring your notebooks, let's study together.

It was not the entertaining activity that he had in mind but if it brought them closer as a family it was an opportunity that he would not waste.

—¿Oh really? I mean, I already missed the school year anyway.

The look on Jun-ho's face let you know that he wasn't joking, they were going to spend the next four hours studying numbers and equations.

You really thought it would be a waste of time but it wasn't like that, as the conversation about algebra flowed the confidence did too, Jun-ho had been absent many times but this help made you remember that no matter what happens or how, no matter how big or small the problem is, he will be there for you.

● Inside the games.

You were stubborn, you always disobeyed any order they gave you, even if your father asked you not to get involved in his affairs you ignored him because were family and you should support each other.

The last few days you had seen Jun-ho more worried and anxious than normal, so you decided to follow him and find out the reason for his current state but you didn't imagine that it was something related to the disappearance of your uncle In-ho, apparently he had already got some clues and you wanted to help him.

He scolded you when he discovered you and warned you not to get involved, he even went to leave you with grandma with the excuse that he would be away for a couple of days but you escaped through a window and followed him again.

That led you to where you were now.

Your bare feet were sweating and your hands were shaking, you tried to avoid looking down through the glass you were in but curiosity got the better of you and you looked down into the void.

You were terrified.

The night you followed your father, one of the men dressed in pink with a circle mask discovered you, left you unconscious and when you woke up you were wearing a green uniform with the number "455" lying on a bed and surrounded by several people who dressed the same, you thought it was some joke, you didn't know what you had gotten yourself involved in, and when you saw that had to play a series of games to avoid being killed, you felt as if the soul was leaving your body.

You looked for your father among all the players but you couldn't find him and shortly after you learned that he had infiltrated the guards, he told you when he came in during a fight between players and was able to talk to you for a few seconds.

—I don't want to die —You murmured fearfully as you heard another glass breaking accompanied by a scream.

—You're not going to die, you have to relax —218 spoke behind you, you were one of the last to cross these crystals and you were more than grateful for that.

You gulped and continued jumping to the next crystal that fortunately had already been tested by another player.

Meanwhile Jun-ho felt his stomach turn and his heart beat like crazy.

He tried to maintain a firm and calm posture, he was still an infiltrator and he couldn't let them notice his concern, but seeing you there between life and death made his heart stop.

One of the so-called "VIP" with a gold mask called him to serve him more liquor and he obeyed, however, the conversation that these people were having about the players made his blood run cold, they talked as if they were just entertainment, some circus animals so that these people could have fun as spectators, but what caught their attention the most was the way they talked about you.

"She looks about fifteen years old" one said with amusement "I say sixteen" spoke another.

Wrong, you were thirteen years old and Jun-ho felt like the worst father in the world for letting you get involved in this.

—¿Will sell the body if she dies or will they cremate it? —One asked interestedly and earning laughter from the rest, Jun-ho only felt nauseous listening to it.

Jun-ho returned to serve liquor to one of the masked men but when he heard a glass break followed by a female scream that he immediately identified as your, he turned around and felt his world collapse.

Where you were previously standing was now 218 with the gaze lost downwards and the body tense, when it was your turn to decide between the two crystals you refused, you didn't want to do it and saw the man who helped you survive each game was there behind you ready to push you.

Another breaking glass caught the attention of the guests, guards and the frontman, Jun-ho had dropped the tray with everything and bottle of liquor.

—I apologize —he murmured, bending down to pick up the mess of broken glass, taking advantage of the fact that no one could see his face, he shed tears of pain.

[...]

A few months had passed after living that nightmare in the games, Jun-ho left there with a bullet in his shoulder and with the disappointment of discovering that it was his brother who was leading all that, but also thanks to that you left alone with some broken bones.

In-ho recognized you instantly and made sure that you could get out of there alive, when you fell from that glass platform your body did not fall directly to the ground, the blow was cushioned by a pad that had been placed specifically for you.

He pretended you were dead and sent you to the hospital, When Jun-ho found out that you were there, he cried with happiness knowing that you were still breathing.

He walked into your hospital room with a set of clean clothes in his hands and when he saw you sitting on the bed eating Jell-O and watching TV he couldn't help but laugh.

—For you this was a vacation.

—Falling from a great height brings its advantages —You said with a triumphant smile, you had gotten rid of many exams and schoolwork.

He always apologized to you for everything you had to go through, from that day on he stopped looking for In-ho (or at least he did it secretly from you) and he was more attentive to you, he took you to school, he was never missing to any event that was special for you and he promised to put you ahead of everything.

Seong Gi-hun

● Outside the games.

He's not the best father but he tries.

You were standing in the forum of your school wearing a dark blue robe and the characteristic mortarboard on your head, in your hands you held your diploma and tried to smile for the camera of the photographer that the school had hired.

You still looked between the seats in the stands for your father but there was no one, your mother had gone with your sister to the United States with her new husband and you had stayed here because you didn't want to abandon Gi-hun.

You formed a grimace on your lips and looked down with sadness and disappointment until suddenly you heard him voice among the people and you looked up again.

—Yes, my daughter just graduated, ¡Oops! Sorry if I stepped on you —He spoke embarrassedly as he crossed the row of people to get to his seat.

You laughed softly and inevitably raised your hand to greet him and get his attention even though your teacher scolded you.

Gi-hun carried a beautiful bouquet of flowers and a gift box in his hands, he sat in his respective place and smiled at you affectionately.

To be honest with himself, he had not planned to come to your graduation, he would apologize to you later by taking you to eat, giving you a gift and flowers, but in the end he decided to go, late but he arrived.

It took him a long time to find the salesman again and he was practically investing all his money in it, this day was not going to be different, ¿what made him change his mind? The photo of you as a baby that he had saved on his phone, the one-year-old you would cry inconsolably if he knew he was going to be without him on this special day.

When the ceremony ended you ran towards him, who welcomed you with open arms.

—Congratulations my life, I'm proud of you —He said, giving you a fatherly kiss on the forehead.

—Thanks for coming —Your smile was enough to confirm that he had made the right decision.

He gave you your flowers and the gift, when you opened it you found a beautiful sewing machine, it was the most appropriate gift considering that you had just graduated as a fashion designer.

—¡Thank you dad! —You said happily, hugging him tightly again.

You were excited and he was also happy to share this moment with you, he had isolated himself from everything for the last three years but you managed to get him out of his comfort zone to also make him smile.

Sometimes he isolated you to protect you, he didn't want anyone involved in those games to know that he had a daughter, a great weakness if they asked him and if something happened to you he was sure that he would never forgive himself and he would be capable of doing the unimaginable for defend you.

He called you "my life" and it was because that's what you were to him, his entire life, his oldest daughter was all he had left.

● Inside the games.

The last thing he wanted to happen was exactly what happened.

The night they took him back to those games you were also dragged with him, not by your own will because you didn't know anything about this but by the simple fact of being the closest to him you found yourself involved in this conflict.

—¿Why didn't you ever tell me about this? —You asked him cautiously as ate the food those pink guards had given them in silver cans.

—I didn't want you to get involved in this —He admitted with an expression of failure and anguish —But now you're in danger.

—We'll be fine —You smiled at him with motivation —They're just... they're child's games ¿right? We will get out of here alive.

—She's right, we just have to be prepared —Young-il said agreeing with you.

You stayed quiet and sat next to your father while you finished eating until a dispute between players caught your attention, one with purple hair and his friend forcefully pushed another to the ground.

A grimace of pain formed on your lips as the poor guy was kicked in the abdomen, knocking the wind out of him.

—¿Aren't they going to help you? They are hurting him —You complained, turning to look at the group of allies that your father had formed, but when you saw that no one was going to do anything, you stood up.

But as soon as you took a step, Young-il put a hand on your shoulder as a sign that he would take care of the situation.

After he hit the two bullies you went to player 333 and helped him stand up.

—¿Are you okay? Come with me —You said leading him to your group.

He gave you his name as a thank you, Lee Myung-gi, while you were talking to him you noticed that he was attractive and he was only a couple of years older than you

Well, eight years to you wasn't much of a difference but your father wasn't too happy about it.

During the next game in which they had to team up with five players, Gi-hun tried to keep you close.

—Well, the five of us are here, we are complete.

—Myung-gi doesn't have a team yet —You said, approaching 333 who was still standing next to you but looking in all directions in search of some team —I'll go and form another one with him.

Those words didn't seem pleasant to Gi-hun either, but before he could refuse, Young-il interrupted to help you a little.

—That's good, this way it will be easier for you to find team.

You thanked him with your look and before your father could say anything you took 333 by the hand and the two of snuck through the players in search of a team.

Even so, you could feel your father's gaze on your back and not to mention Myung-gi, he did feel somewhat intimidated but he also couldn't deny a certain attraction he had towards you since he saw you.

It was incredible and made you laugh how despite the circumstances he was still protective of you, not only protecting you from physical harm, but also emotional harm and keeping an eye out in case someone wanted to break your heart.

With the salesman I didn't put it into the games because I think it's obvious that that man would never allow something like that when it comes to his daughter.

Thanks for reading and the next thing I'll post will be about Thanos, a pending request :D

GUYS GUYS‼️

inho grabbing you during mingle (3rd game) when they call for two, but there’s a pair already inside the room. while you wrangle one of the men outside, youngil (inho) takes care of the one inside. when you close the door:

“Fuck—” you croak, nearly in unison with the loud buzz of the timer.

“I did it for us,” he tells you, still leaning against the wall with the body at his feet. There’s blood smeared all over the floor, in the shape of arcs where the man’s feet had kicked while being suffocated.

The desperate pleas and gunshots outside the door are quiet in comparison to the pounding of your heartbeat. You don’t move, not even when Youngil stands and moves closer. The door won’t open, not until the circles take the bodies.

“We’re alive,” he says, now inches away from you. “I did this for us.” His hand comes up, gentle as it cups your face. It’s steady— clean. Not what you thought a killer’s hand would be like.

The way his mouth meets yours is soft, tender. And the way his thumb traces your cheek is the same. There’s a shaky inhale, your lungs stuttering in turn with your brain.

The guards might see you through the slot, but the thought is half-hearted at best, smothered when Youngil tilts his head to kiss you a little harder. You don’t know when you grabbed him back, cradled his face and sank your fingers into his hair.

“For us.” He repeats when he pulls away, lips slightly reddened.

And you believe him.

Silco's Enforcer Child

...

Chapter One

Swirling your brush in a cup the clinking sound echoes in the open space, reminding you of the click of a gun. The once red color in the cup turned a murky violet. A dark dusk of sorts. Your head spun as you tried not to focus on the color, fire filling your vision before it disappeared as you pulled your paintbrush back and dipped it in a soothing blue, some light green tipped on the now wet brush end.

Staring at a picture of a blurry silhouette with sharp clothes you hum wondering what color eyes they had. As you stir new shades and tints on your pallet you imagine what the person's nose shape was like. If their mouth was big or small. Where they belonged in the jumble that was your brain and the locked past it held. The fish swimming around the person's head was a stylistic choice but as you mixed the blue and green you wondered if there was more to it. If the person enjoyed the aquatic creatures or perhaps lived near the river edge?

"(Y/N)." Not looking up from your latest artwork as Caitlyn walked in you frowned, taking a step back to try and piece it all together. The last light of the day leaked through the giant studio windows giving your work a golden halo, putting it in a new perspective. Studying the edges and the details you'd painted they became blurry with the sunlight. Clutching your pallet knife you tilt your head, this piece had less detail on the person than your other ones. However, the colors were bolder and more defined with sharper lines. The background was the emphasis but for once you felt like you actually knew what this person looked like. You just weren't able to paint it yet, not fully committed to the details.

How strange that you remembered this outfit so clearly, having drawn it a million times but not the features of the person who wore it. Mixing a different color on your pallet without looking down you purse your lips trying to concentrate as you add something else to the background. You could faintly remember sea blue. Maybe a soft gray or green. A lighthouse or the ocean perhaps? Is that why you added the fish?

Whoever he was, he was important as this wasn't the first portrait you'd done of him. He was a lanky man in a red and black suit with a white dress shirt. The background was a blur of grays and greens with purple brush strokes that looked like fish but maybe smoke if you squinted. The whole picture was odd. Staring at it too long made your head hurt because it felt strangely familiar. He was important to you. Whoever he was. Just another piece of the puzzle that was your past.

"You know usually I'm the one obsessing." She states referring to her yellow tape and red thread board back home. "Come now you can't wear your smock to the art show tonight." Caitlyn scolds as she places a nice outfit down on the cleared part of your glass art desk. You shook your head in response tsking softly.

That was a risky move given the fact paint somehow always got on your clothes no matter what you did in this room. Briefly glancing at the ensemble you wonder if she was trying to ruin the clothes to make an excuse to skip the event, whatever it was tonight.

As the natural light began to fade the painting no longer glowing, you signed placing your brushes and pallet down. The blank face of the man you were trying to paint wasn't going to get any more detail any time soon. Though you guessed that's just how it worked. Reaching out wishing you could pull the man out of the painting, ask him all your burning questions, you paused not wanting to touch the wet paint.

He wouldn't be able to answer you anyways. Bits and pieces, never the whole picture. Always searching and wanting for more. Insatiable…

"(Y/N)." Caitlyn states again as she tries to gain your attention but your focus was elsewhere, lost in this room and your work. Taking a deep breath to try and gather yourself for whatever she was going to say next, you could feel a headache coming on and you didn't like it. Rubbing at your temples you hum indicating you want her to continue but she remains quiet waiting for you to speak.

Rolling your eyes before staring at your painting as your hands touch the glass of your art desk behind you, you try and ground yourself. To bring yourself back to a safe space. Instead you think of your endless collages, or the box of failed faces. As one hand came to press against your forehead pushing your hair back and giving you some clarity you spared a glance at said box which you'd pushed into the corner out of frustration. Another recently failed project. You'd tried placing different details from different paintings and projects together, overlapping them over one another to try and get a full person. They always came out looking horrid. Like some kind of twisted nightmare rather than a real person from a memory. Very occasionally you'd get a full face but mostly you had slightly warped portraits or very blurred places. Nothing solid if it was anything before you came to Piltover.

As your fingers touched the box observing the torn pieces of canvas and failed attempts you realized you'd crossed the room without noticing. Humming you paused, wandering if you should worry about that. About to sass Caitlyn, your words suddenly die on your tongue as your eye catches something. One of your shredded pieces that had bright pink and blue. Your hand shook as your thumb grazed the ungesssoed canvas and faintly you heard distant laughter. Echoing in an alley.

"Art… Art show?" You finally question Caitlyn, composing yourself as you let your hands fall to your sides so you could steady them and let her untie your messy smock. As you let go of the canvas and stepped back from the box slowly your mind was getting out of painting mode. You began to relax as you focused on your friend and what she was saying rather than your lost memories. The woman in question groans in exasperation before pinching her nose as she steps back letting you shrug off the apron. Noticing she's in her enforcer uniform and not a dress for what you assume is a galle event you smile and shake your head as she takes the apron from you hanging it up on its hook with the others. Stepping towards your curtains as she does that, you close them before the room's timer goes off and gas powered light fills the space with an artificial glow.

Only gone a minute and you already missed the sunlight.

"Honestly I thought I was the obsessed one. Your dad rented out the gallery again," She informs you like a mother scolding a child who forgot something important. Needing to do something not able to sit still as you come out of your trance state she begins walking around the room cleaning up things in the messy space as she tries to get you ready to go. Scraping paint off pallets and dumping them into soapy water to soak you watch with an amused smile as she places your brushes on the counter to be cleaned later. She paces nervously fidgeting with one of your brushes before turning towards you looking worried. Her Violet eyes seeming unsure.."... Don't you remember? He's showing your work tonight. He's been talking about it all week." Caitlyn states before she pushes off whatever emotions she was feeling as she crossed her arms. You briefly remember that conversation but was that really tonight? The week had been a blur of research and projects and events, flashing cameras and reporters all over the campus as you tried to study and work. There was barely a moment's rest to yourself until you locked the door to your art studio for some peace and quiet. Groaning as you pinch your nose and clench your eyes you wish one of your maids had reminded you but with how distracted you'd been lately maybe they had.

Swallowing you looked towards a vase in the room. Flowers your father had dropped off while you were deep in thought and surrounded by your artwork. Thinking back you couldn't remember the conversation but logically it was likely about the gallery. Pulling at your hair out of habit you hummed, you really were a mess as of late. With the anniversary of you being found soon you guessed that made sense. Your thoughts and feelings all being in disarray, your "spells" being worse than usual.

Staring at the water cup with the swirling purple you see the smoke again, you taste the gun powder. Thinking back that was one of your more clear memories, the first you were sure was true. Blinking you were back on that bridge again. The smoke making you choke before the rush of clear air as your dad's heavy enforcer mask settled over your face. You could feel yourself being small, feel his uniform as he pressed you into his shoulder and took you home. The question had been deeply ingrained in you for so long but you still didn't know the answer; What were you doing on that bridge?

Closing your eyes not wanting to think of that right now you took another deep breath to steady yourself. You didn't want to spiral.

"That's tonight?" You ask not sure how you forgot as you begin to take off your shirt to change. Caitlyn's face goes red and she turns away from you before tapping her foot angrily. The sound bounces around in your head and something about this feels familiar in a way you can't quite explain.

Sharp blue eyes on a stern face and crossed arms come to mind as a black boot taps impatiently away but the flash is gone as soon as it comes. Touching your desk feeling cool glass under your fingertips you swallowed. Did you take your meds today, your headaches were worse than usual, these flashes more frequent… your therapist warned the incoming anniversary of you being found could trigger some repressed memories but this felt excessive. You'd been doing so well.

"Yes, now hurry up and get dressed! I'm your escort and bodyguard tonight. Marcus tried to put me outside but I didn't want to miss anything. Just..." She hesitates and you smile softly as you put on the white shirt with the looped gold collar. The golden hoop of the white dress shirt hung heavy around your neck as it looped and clicked behind your shoulders but sliding the black slacks on you admit Caitlyn chose well, never one for fashion didn't mean she didn't have a good eye. You'd be lost without her in more ways than one. Slipping on a dress jacket that was your favorite color you hum glancing at the wall of mirrors in your studio. Doing a little spin watching seven you's spin back in response you nod to yourself.

"Just in case." You finish her thought for her as you smooth out the shirt and jacket with a blank face. Seeing your reflection she sighs and you hum smiling as you keep adjusting your clothes to look presentable. Your headaches had been at an all time low before today and despite your forgetfulness and the dreaded upcoming date you felt confident. I mean your skull was pounding and the flashes were more frequent but you knew you could handle the gala tonight, you had done it before with way worse pain and you didn't want anyone to think something was wrong.

You were fine, everything was fine…

"Just please tell me you didn't forget! I couldn't get off duty tonight to attend as a guest. To schedule myself at your gala as a guard I had to take a double shift at work and to be your personal escort and guard that was a whole nother mountain of paperwork and personal favors. A lot of enforcers like your work ya know, and all the new guards want to meet you. I mean you are your father's child. Everyone wants to show their support. Or get… favors." She states matter of factly with slight distaste making you chuckle. The both of you were no stranger to your families status and the luxuries that came with your last names.

"Right, my hero." You hum a teasing smile on your lips as you watch your friend rant getting out her emotions about these type of events and what people really wanted from them. They were meant to help people and yet help was often the last thing on people's minds unless it was them getting it. You had to admit as she lectured the wall she was cute. Her overprotectiveness always made you feel special and even as her new job as an Enforcer you were always on her mind. Maybe not in the same way as before but you could accept that. As you adjust your jacket, sticking your hands into the pocket, you send her a playful smirk.. "Oh and you do know escort has a double meaning, correct Caitlyn darling?" You ask in a sultry voice wanting to tease her hoping it'll loosen her up a bit. She turns and staring at her, her violet eyes scan your form. Puffing out her cheeks embarrassed as she understands what you mean you walk out of the studio with her following close behind.

You catch her smile in the corner of your eye but say nothing simply walking outside into the hallway and through the large manor to the awaiting carriage outside.

~~~

The ride had been quiet the last few minutes. You'd joked about opening a bottle of champagne to celebrate but Caitlyn gently informed you she couldn't drink tonight and you didn't want to be sipping alone. A rock had formed in your throat and as you fidgeted with your hands every jolt of the carriage put you on edge. What had started as a fun ride was slowly turning into your worst nightmare as the Galla got closer.

Caitlyn these last couple months had gone from your closest friend to your body guard, one of her most frequent Enforcer jobs being to watch you. As work and friendship crossed you were unsure where your new relationship stood. If you were just overthinking and if it had changed at all.

As the carriage stops suddenly you hum feeling your stomach doing flips. Adjusting your accessories and clothes nervously, you close your eyes feeling the pulsing behind your eyes worsen. The thought that you could claw your temples open to feel some relief crosses your mind but you stay silent not voicing that thought. Caitlyn frowns noticing your unsteady state before she takes your hands into her own.

Eyes snapping to look at hers at the surprise contact her thumb brushes the back of your palm. "You're not looking very well. If you're not up for it we can turn around. Say you got sick…" She suggests softly before looking towards the curtain separating you from the driver. Staying quiet not wanting to be teased, one of her hands goes to your cheek and leaning into her hold you close your eyes taking a deep breath. What a nice thought…

"I'm just tired. I'll be fine after some wine." You joke before sighing deeply as she just stares at you waiting for the truth. You shift in the plush seats and just breathe. These events could be fun or cumbersome, tonight seemed to be the later. Shifting the curtains when you no longer feel bumps you realize you'd arrived. As you watch cameras flash, high society people get their pictures taken before entering the galla. You were no stranger to being in the spotlight and yet you felt you never quite belonged there. Your art told a story, your story. And you weren't sure if you wanted to share it. Especially since you barely knew your story yourself. You don't remember how the Gallas started, only that once your first piece was put up it hadn't stopped since.

A prodigy some called you. An imposter you told yourself.

"I-" She starts but your hand is already on the carriage handle before you lose the nerve. Twisting and pushing it open light floods your eyes as your regular driver waits outside for you. Voices surround you and you feel woozy as you're transported to a different place with different sounds. Your driver bows, snapping you back before holding out his hand. Feeling disorientated you reach out, your touch going from cold metal to warm leather. As he grips your hand firmly your eyes widen. Stepping down from the carriage into his hold you get a memory of someone holding your hand as you hop down from a curb. A man in a red and black suit…

As people chatter away excited to get a glimpse of you, reporters ask questions as cameras flash. The drivers grip remains and each step down the carriage steps contains a different image but right as your about to get the whole picture, the flashes are over in an instant. Just like the camera shutters around you.

As you stand there eyes wide in surprise, Caitlyn puts her hand to your back shocking you. You snap out of it, grounded by her touch and knowing smile before you begin to walk forwards at her silent instruction. Waving at reporters from famous newspapers you act normal. Enforcers nod keeping the crowd contained but the familiar faces do nothing to soothe your feelings.

Standing tall you walk forward with practiced elegance, reminding yourself you only need to make it to the entrance. As journalists fire off their usual questions about your outfit, your art, and if you've had any recent episodes you smile and wave not answering any of them. Caitlyn stands close as she follows you, her hand pressed firmly against your back and soon you stand in front of two polished doors. The enforcers on either side glare at Caitlyn before smiling at you as they bow and let you both inside. You don't miss Caitlyn's frown but it's gone as quick as it comes, similar to your flashes.

Unable to dwell on it, you walk through the open entrance and into the large art gallery. As you hear the familiar click of the heavy doors behind you, the light changes as you go from outside to inside. Your familiar work hangs from every wall in the space and you know every guest in this room.

Breathing heavily Caitlyn opens her mouth to say something but decides against it. You're grateful, only needing a minute from her. Leaning down and closing your eyes you hum, taking a deep breath before you nod and compose yourself.

Observing the space you took comfort in seeing your work. Some of the pieces are projected as holograms lighting up the room, while others are sculptures scattered about, and elsewhere are large oil paintings and mixed medium collages. Letting out a deep breath you didn't know you were holding you let yourself relax. While the night isn't over it feels safer surrounded by things you understand. With Caitlyn's hand moving from your back to more comfortably settle on your shoulder you nod at her feeling the episode pass.

A real smile begins to overtake your face as you take in all your old work. Your father was good at asking before picking some of your pieces to sell and getting his friend who owned the gallery to hang and price them. While some were harder to give up then others you always said yes putting all the money you made towards the Undercity and the relief effort you'd started there. The orphanage and jail always appreciating your efforts. It wasn't much compared to what else you could be doing but your father liked to organize these for you to give you some peace of mind about the UnderCity and its limited resources. You know he'd much prefer you'd paint full time and let him handle the charity affairs. He didn't want you going into any dangerous job options like Caitlyn and him had.

"A full house tonight. You never cease to impress." Caitlyn states as she bumps your shoulder. Nodding as you come out of your haze, seeing a lot of familiar faces and some new ones in the corner of your eye you watch as people mingle and talk about your art. Trays stacked high with hor de vours and various selections of alcohol pass making the guests smile and laugh as they took their fill.

Searching the room you get a wide smile on your face as you see Jayce and Victor standing off to the side. They're looking at one your father insisted on displaying so he could buy it and support your cause. Running towards them you hug Viktor before he can respond. He stumbles back leg nearly buckling but hugs you back with the same enthusiasm you do him. His laugh lightens your mood as Jayce helps support his fellow inventor and you hum as he squeezes you tight. Jayce joins the hug with his own laugh before he takes you from Viktor and picks you up spinning you around.

"Show off." Viktor teases as he taps his cane against Jayces leg. Jayce simply snorts and puts you down much to the amusement of onlooking guests. He ruffles your hair before doing the same to Viktor with that same hearty smile. Caitlyn, while seeming unamused, has the tinest smile on her lips at your childish behavior.

"Look at you. You're a regular Divinchi." Jayce compliments before he wraps an arm around your shoulder and gestures to your work. Feeling your cheeks darken you lean against him happy he could make it with his busy schedule. He chuckles at your flustered expression and tucks some stray hair behind your ear as you smile up at him.

"Often insanity and creativity walk hand in hand I admit. Though Divinchi is a high title to live up to." You respond making him shake his head. His chocolate eyes shine as he squeezes you close.

"And a poet too. Viktor look at our little idealist, they're all grown up now." Viktor rolls his eyes at Jayces antics before he stares at you. Shifting his cane to be center he leans slightly forward and nods agreeing.

"You my dear have many talents. I envy them all." He says genuinely tilting his head towards the piece they'd been looking at. Staring at it you smile, the portrait of you and your father making you happy. You'd wanted to gift it to him but he wanted to support you, so here it hung with his bid already placed. A man who's actions spoke louder than any words he'd ever said.

"Oh." You state eyes widening as you notice a large canvas with the school painted on it next to your family portrait. "Is Heimerdinger here?" You question, suddenly curious about your teacher and the oldest council member. You had no idea why they came to these things but the council members always stopped by to show their support, ever since your first galla. It was only kind of you to return the gesture by thanking them for coming and catching up. Even if you didn't always want to.

"You know Heimerdinger he's… everywhere." Caitlyn lets out a snort at Jayces unhelpful comment and Jayce flicks her hats feather in response. As they begin to argue you turn to nod your head at Viktor before you slip off into the crowd to find the council members and maybe your father.

Grabbing a glass of champagne as it passes the waiter nods his head at you before he goes to service other guests. Smiling as you sip at the bubbly liquid your eyes scan the space looking for various people to say hi too.

Catching a glint of metal from across the room you pause turning your head to get a better look. Spotting Marcus you smile before waving at him, holding up your champagne to toast. His associates all have wine glasses but his hands are suspiciously empty. As he nods his head at you politely holding up his hand to give a small wave you chuckle gesturing for him to come over. He shakes his head no and waves his hand away gesturing for you to go back to your friends. Humming you take a step closer noticing he's with an odd crowd. One you haven't seen at your galas before.

Beginning to walk towards them to see what they're all looking at you pause before pushing that feeling of suspicion away. As you stop shoes no longer clicking against the tile you swallow. Caitlyn told you to have fun and the night was young, you couldn't be focusing on your delusions now. Blowing him a little kiss he shakes his head and taps his chest on the opposite side of his badge, gesturing to you that he received the kiss and was keeping it safe. An old and bit odd inside joke. But one you refused to let go of regardless. You wave before turning to disappear into the crowd. Taking another sip of champagne you do your best not to feel anxious as Marcus's strange friends stare a hole into your back.

As a hand grabs your shoulder you quickly turn eyes wide as you get ready for a fight. "You can't just wander off!" Staring at Caitlyn your body unstiffens and you once again relax as you almost finish off your champagne. Just a few hours anyone could do this for a few hours.

"Sorry, just saying hello." You hum much to her displeasure.. Smiling softly as she relaxes you once again sip at your drink trying to soothe your rattled nerves. Nothing was wrong, you needed to calm down. You could do this.

Wandering around with Caitlyn looking for various people you pause as you reach a quieter part of the galla. Someplace more in the back. Tilting your head in front of a painting with a blue haired girl your eyes trace her face. Caitlyn was usually pretty stiff during her job but she puts her arm on your shoulder leaning on you in a rare moment of loosening up. With no one around to witness this you feel more open then you had in awhile. Short blue hair that frizzed at the end and had odd knick knacks woven and tied into it.

"She's pretty." She says softly and you nod wrist shifting to bubble your second glass of champagne. The liquid swirls as you do the repetitive motion and Caitlyn frowns concerned as she studies your action and face.

"I've been calling her Sapphire." You say suddenly, your eyes flicking up to stare at the faceless girl with blue hair.

"Cause of her hair?" Caitlyn questions and for a second you get a flash of sapphire eyes staring up at you as you braid choppy hair. Laughter ringing lightly in your ears as a girl with pink hair sits close by. She's smiling as you giggle tying trinkets into messy blue locks, giving the girl little braids. Three boys sit in the room observing but not interrupting as they do their own things. A smaller one occasionally handing you little knick knacks that'll sparkle in her hair.

"Yeah something like that." Taking a sip of your drink you frown as it goes down rough and not smooth like the other sips. "Hey you saw Marcus with those people right?" You suddenly question feeling like you knew them from somewhere despite not recognizing their faces. The woman in purple especially catching your attention.

"Marcus is here? He wasn't supposed to come tonight. I guess he made time for you." Caitlyn hummed surprised before she turned towards you. "I know my boss can be suspicious but tonight is about you. Your father wants you to be happy and unlike my parents he really tries. Let's just get through tonight since we already committed before we're back to the red string and endless questions." She suggests and you nod slowly but that feeling in your gut doesn't disappear. As much as you tried to dispel it, it kept creeping in the back of your mind.

As Caitlyn goes to lead you away you pause as a familiar face greets you.

"Your art has come so far. I marvel at your talent and envy all your fans." Mel teases. Caitlyn bows her head in respect and you nod at her. The girl swallows but nods pointing to where she'll be waiting as you chat privately with Mel.

Smiling at the Council woman looking at the work she's observing you hum seeing a large canvas you'd done of her and the Council at a meeting your father had asked you to attend. It was one people had flocked too all night you observed from the bidding stickers but it was just you and Mel looking at it now.

"Mel it's been awhile. We should schedule a painting session together. I miss those." You respond smiling warmly as you settle next to her.

"Yes, well life has been busy as I'm sure your father's told you." Swirling your glass of champagne faster you hum frowning softly. Staring at your reflection in the golden liquid you look back up at the painting. He hadn't. Not lately.

He wanted you away from his work. From him. You and Caitlyn knew something was wrong but as two high Noble society children your concerns were often brushed off and not taken seriously. You were close to something big and yet…

"Dads been quiet about work. You know after all I've worked for and all he's prepared me for he wants me to switch careers. Caitlyn and I may have passed the physical and mental exams with flying colors but he... worries." You murmur quietly as you fidget with your glass. "Caitlin's dad supports her but my dad... he'd prefer I chose to continue my law studies. Or change my schooling altogether and focus on something else." You state solemnly. As much as you loved your father you felt it was unfair. Like there was something bigger that he and everyone else was hiding from you.

"Hextech?" She asks surprised bringing you out of your sprailing thoughts. Smiling at the name Jayce gave his invention, that explosion that kick started everything felt like it happened yesterday. It felt like you were found on the bridge yesterday.

"More medical field I believe but I think he'll take anything other than Enforcer at this point. Even regular old painter." You remark as you observe the details of the meeting you'd chosen to paint.

"And that bothers you?" Mel asks. Tilting your head you squint at the details of the picture in front of you. Such a different piece than your other ones which were blurry and indistinct. And yet everyone kept hovering to this one. Easier to understand and more straight forward you supposed. Something from your new life and not your old. They always seemed to prefer that.

"... Mel is something going on I should be worried about? Some kind of civil unrest? The undercity. I've heard rumors and my dads making excuses for me not to go to any of the prisons or my charity anymore. I have friends there. People I'm trying to help. I need to know the truth. You need to tell me the truth." You state.

The woman remains quiet for a moment. Her brown eyes seem to search for the right words as she sips at her drink slowly. A red wine that seemed too much like blood to you. "Perhaps focusing on work outside your father's would be good. He worries about you. We all do. With your..." She hesitates before waving her hand dismissively trying to change the subject.

"My spells?" You demand and her brows furrow as she glances at you. The silence is all you need for confirmation. Sighing you look away from the Council Meeting and towards a different picture. A silhouette of a man with a halo around his head. You see that blue green color again. You can hear a chuckle. Mel's touch brings you back as she squeezes your shoulder.

"... I've said too much. Please be kind to him. Your father loves you much more than you know. You're very lucky to have him. You know," Mel hesitates, something you've rarely seen her do. As she looks at your painting and you stare into your glass a wistful look crosses her face. "My past is tricky when it comes to family and relationships." She admits in a rare moment of sincerity, no politics, no deals. Just the truth.

Or perhaps it's manipulation. You can never tell with Mel, you do your best not to dwell. You like to think your relationship and mentorship with her is genuine, but in a place like Piltover… you never know.

Nodding you look away from your least favorite piece onto other things. Your eyes stop on a more symbolic painting, an older one. It was crudely done as you hadn't cleaned the edges or made the details fine. Fangs and claws and fur. Oh to be the fox and wolf as Mel often told you.

"... Mingle?" You question and her eyes light up like the fox in your painting sensing your planning something.

"You don't usually enjoy networking." She observes watching you carefully and you shrug before finishing your flute of Champagne in one final swig.

"Feels like a night to try something new." You state waving down a waiter to take your glass so you could grab another.

…

With Mel by your side you'd avaded Caitlyn and most of the Enforcers walking around the party. While you loved having her around having her around as an Enforcer was much harder than having her around as your friend. While you'd tried to stay calm the whole night and not make it into a conspiracy your suspicion grew every time you saw Marcus from the corner of your eye with that group of people. As you inched your way closer throughout the night you glanced around. No one was watching you…

Slipping away from Mel while she was distracted with a council member you kept your head high as you walked with purpose. As you get closer to the odd group, your focus goes to one of the people Marcus is talking to. Your eyes catching on her arm and how it's covered by a pretty velvet cape.

"No you can't talk to them-" Marcus insists, not yet noticing you as you got closer. The lights on this side of the room were dimmer as there were less art pieces. It made your curiosity burn brighter as you wondered what Marcus and this strange clinte were talking about. If they were clinte at all.

"Why are they painting him? Who are they? He's mad Marcus! He wants some serious answers." The woman snaps back angrily. Coming closer and getting more questions than answers the woman notices you staring and shifts to better cover her arm. Her friends stiffen at your presence and adjust their suits and dresses which you notice are more worn than anyone else in the room.

"They're nobody. It's a side hobby, just a thing they sometimes do-" Marcus states and you tilt your head unsure if you should be insulted or not. Was he protecting you from something? From someone?

"Marcus?" You question finally catching his attention as you take in his new friends. He immediately goes pale hearing you call his name and turns to face you. As the woman smirked you could see him getting stressed like you weren't supposed to be here. Squinting you hum as you observe the chief, what was he up to?

"(Y/N)! Why aren't you with Caitlyn?" Marcus demands and you step back at the tone of his voice. The intensity of his question. As the group continues to stare you begin to piece together that they're from the Undercity or at least a lower class section of Piltover.

"She's talking to Jayce. Marcus I need-" You start but he ignores you. Unlike his playful disposition earlier he was being much colder now. As you swallowed something about this whole situation didn't settle right with you. This clearly had nothing to do with your galla.

"I'm sorry this is a private discussion I need you to-" Marcus starts in a much kinder tone trying to direct you away but the woman ignores him. Stepping in front of him to get to you Marcus glares, his fists balling at his sides. She tilts her head observing you before she smirks. Maroon lipstick catching the limited light.

"(Y/N) Right?" The woman was tall, elegant, and walked with authority. Several scars of different sizes littered her face and shoulders. Taking in her physique she seemed like she'd had a harder life. A laborer perhaps?

Her purple slit dress with the black velvet coat stood out amongst the other dresses tonight and you found yourself intrigued. Almost pulled in by her. As you studied each other you could see Marcus gritting his teeth. Knowing you'd walked into a possibly dangerous situation you smiled feigning ignorance.

"Yes, that's my name. I guess you could say this is my Galla." Acting shy at the attention you reach up to fiddle with your jewelry and hair. Something about this woman seemed familiar. Maybe it was her voice or maybe it was her face but you had this odd itch in the back of your brain. Like when you were painting right after a flash.

"I'm Sevika." She introduces before holding out her left hand. Confused, you peaked under her cloak to look at her right only for her to take a step back hiding her arm behind herself. Shaking the left trying not to be bothered by it or ask any questions that could get you in trouble you smiled at her.

"Are you interested in this one?" You hum tilting your head towards the canvas as you try to subtly change the conversation. "I don't know if you know this because I haven't seen you at any of my shows before but my paintings are all for charity." You explain with a smile. "All funds go back to the community. As someone so fortunate I try to give back to those more in need then myself." Sevika paused for a moment before her hand wrapped tightly around yours, her grip firm but not crushing like you'd first expected.

"... I'll keep that in mind." She hums softly. "My boss, he's interested in this one." She explains before letting go and gesturing to the painting they'd been talking In Front of for the past few hours.

"Oh your boss? What do you do?" You ask curiously. It was always the same faces at these Gallas, Sevika didn't seem like an average socialite. She screamed adventure but also safety. You feel like you knew her and that wasn't something you felt often when it came to new faces. While there was a danger with interacting with her that you could sense, she knew more than she let on.

"We work in…" Glancing at Marcus amused she focused back on you, eyes seeming to study your every move. It reminded you of an Enforcer or someone running from one. "Exports." She explains and you nod slowly, not sure if you believe her or not. Looking at the painting when she does you suddenly freeze, familiar blue eyes greeting you.

"My dad wasn't supposed to grab this one." You murmur as you step forward. It was one of your favorites hidden behind a sheet so he wouldn't see, one of the only full faces from your past you'd ever been able to complete. You were working on some fine detailing and had moved it from the safety of your room to the studio. It was a bit fuzzy on the edges still and some of the detailing was blurry because you couldn't seem to decide on things like sharp or round features, smooth or bumpy skin but it was an important piece to you.

"Oh?" Sevika questions and you frown looking at the bid at the bottom. "My boss, he'll pay a small fortune for it. Guaranteed." Sevika swears and you turn towards her.

"They said it wasn't for sale. Can we continue-" Marcus tries to regain control of the conversation but Sevika seemed more interested in you than him. The people also focused on you suddenly ignoring Marcus' presence. She stepped closer leaning in to observe your face. As their eyes focused on yours, really taking you in you noticed the sudden way she stiffened. Like she was seeing a ghost.

"Think of all the people in the UnderCity it could help, that is what you're doing isn't it? Your charity?" Quirking a brow at her surprised, you turn your head suddenly. The intensity of her stare suddenly making you uncomfortable.

"I don't like to announce it because I get less sales which means I can help less but yes… That's true." You admit quietly. Did Marcus tell them that? How did they figure it out? The longer you stayed in this corner the more questions you had.

"So a small fortune to help others is surely worth this painting?" Pausing you think of the deal, of what you would be giving away. Reaching your hand out you tap the bottom of the canvas, tracing the intricate picture frame. Was this some sort of psychological test from your father? Did this even have anything to do with you or were you misinterpreting the entire situation?

Focusing on the painting to remain calm, the ravenette man with blue eyes and sharp features made you feel at ease. Swallowing you hum. You wanted to know more about this woman, about the group with her, and her relationship with Marcus.

"And this bosses name? I'd love to meet the man giving so much to my charity." You offer watching Sevikas' body language closely.

"He doesn't do names." She responds quickly and you nod.

"A picture then?" You question. "It's customary for all customers to take a picture with the piece they're buying." Before she can say no like you assume she will, you grab her hand in another firm handshake and smile wide as a flash fills the dark space. As Sevika blinks in surprise and her friends slink into the shadows you take your chance to leave back to the main party. As the photographer walks away you do the same disappearing into the crowd with stolen film in your hand.

While you had a lot of questions you're sure they could wait until that photo was printed. You think you just found another piece of the puzzle.

...

Taglist: @pinkninja200 @shadow-pancake9 @athenapspspsps @mercenarystrike @strawbebe-dk @joscelyn02 @wanna-plan-world-domination @meep-moop-mystic @ebony-wolf @shadow-pancake9 @zeros-rot @beasalmeh @ihatemylifeuwu @domoron @ackermanbitch @ihatemyselfmorethanmydepression

thinking about giving some relief to your stressed husband before he has to attend an important meeting with his colleagues later in the afternoon…

you’re awakened by the shower of gentle kisses from your neck and face provided by none other than your own darling husband. your gaze softens when you notice that desperately hungry look in his eyes. then, when your eyes travel downward, you were pleasantly surprised by the sight of your husband’s naked body. the sunrise shone through your bedroom window, basking your husband in a golden light. he looked near damn ethereal.

you greedily took in his meaty thighs, toned arms, rock hard abs, and his useless, thick, leaking cock. sometimes you wondered how in the hell you were able to marry a hunk like him. you could distinctly remember that your husband had many admirers in his life who would give anything to be able to have a chance with him.

you felt pride bubble in your chest knowing that none of them would ever be able to see your husband like this: looking down at you with pleading eyes, not even having to say a word to let you know what he wanted. for you to fuck him like a cheap whore until your bedroom stank of sex. how could you deny your baby when he’s been good for you all week long?

“you look so pretty on top of me baby, mhm, move your hips just like that,” you praised as the grip of your husband’s quivering legs tensed around you as he raises his hips until just your tip is inside him before plopping down, his skin slapping sinfully against your cum stained pelvis; evidence of your previous rounds that your husband was so desperate to keep inside him as it continued to leak out with every frantic movement of his hips.

“yer cock feels so good, i needed this so much— ah!” he gasped when you grab hold of his waist and snapped your hips up to match the pace of his feverish riding. you could hear the tear of fabric beside your head as your husbands claws at your pillows, his breathless moans increasing as you continue to plow into his hole.

“oh fuck yes! please go faster, i’m so close,” your husband begs so beautifully as he rest his forehead beside your neck, he pants against your ear as his climax creeps closer. the final straw for him was when you wrap your fingers around his girth and stroke him along with your erratic thrusts. he muffled his whine by biting into your shoulder as he added more to the white mess of your abdomen. overstimulation cuts him like a knife as you continued to use him until you quickly follow suit and you slam balls deep into his ass and fill him with warm cum.

you husband lays flat against you like a puppet without strings as you both try to catch your breath. he lifts himself from your shoulder to stare down at you with so much tenderness. only you had the privilege to see your husband in such a mess. a mess that you had created to perfection.

you felt yourself grin as your husband starts to slowly ride you again, making your cock harden just minutes after your previous session. your handsome man was just as greedy as you. if not more.

ghost, gaz, soap, price, miguel, choso, sukuna, vander, jayce, gojo, geto, ur fav characters <3

I miss my sunshine pookie😭😭

Regarding The Bad Batch Season 3 trailer,

Lowkey forgot i blog revealed... anyways thinking of bratty logan jealous of u taking a call =p

You and him are holding each other closely as you lay in bed, him choosing to be the big spoon despite being much smaller than you, and you aren't paying as much attention to him as he'd like. Usually, you'd have your hand in his hair and scratch at his scalp, but you'd been on your phone for the past ten or so minutes and he was getting annoyed by the lack of attention.

So, he began trying to earn it from you. He pressed languid, open-mouthed kisses to your neck as he tried to peer over your body to see what you were holding to more importance than him, but gave up after a few minutes of nothing.

"What're you even doing?" Logan muttered out roughly, earning a hum from you.

"Working things out with my boss. Issue came up, we think it's the new hire's fault but he's pissed at me," you explained, showing Logan the long conversation you were having.

Logan groaned. "Pay attention to me, asshole," he scowled.

Logan bit at your neck. He pressed hickeys and bit down on your pulse points, tongue running over your pulse points and practically scenting you.

"Logan, quit."

"No."

You scoffed and frowned as your boss rang your phone to call. "I have to take this call. Keep quiet."

Logan turned over in the bed and you had felt bad, but he didn't care that you needed to get this done. As you focused on the call, you didn't even notice Logan had turned back... until you felt your boxers being tugged down. You shot an angry look over at Logan, but he only grinned lopsidedly and took your soft cock in his hands.

Logan rubbed you to half-mast and then took you in his mouth. You choked back a gasp and continued the call.

"Y-Yes, I know I was the last to document it, but I wasn't the last to... to handle it," you stammered out as you grasped Logan's hair roughly and helped him swallow you whole. You muted the call, ignoring your ranting boss.

"You fucking slut. You want my boss to hear us? I thought you didn't like sharing," you spat. Logan moaned needily while he choked on your cock, drizzling lube on your free hand's fingers and pumping them.

He blinked up at you with defiance in his eyes, rutting against your leg like a bitch in heat. You pulled him off your now-hard dick and motioned for him to let you prep him.

With just one finger in his tight heat, Logan bit down on his hand as to not squeal. You unmuted as you pushed your index in and out of his asshole and talked to your boss. After three fingers, Logan was breaking and healing his fingers so that he wouldn't make noise, but the second you muted he groaned out, "Fuck me, please, oh—right there, please!"

(Ummm i was gonna finish this but i wanna take a nap so pretend i wrote the rest where he rides you on call 😭😭 maybe ill finish another time)

-faggotblvd, AKA wolverine pussyfucker

I AM GOIJF TO GO FUCKING INSANE WHAT DO YOU MEAN BREAKING AND HEALING HIS FIBGEFS TO KEEP QUIET TTHIS IS THE ABSOLUTE BEST THING IVE RRAD RODAY

OKAY. LET ME COOK. Can I request abo with Omega Wolverine (💀) and he is going into heat. And he needs his alpha to come take care of him and leads to wolverine and reader taking care of him to make sure his omega is okay.am fucking dying 💀 -😉

Logan Howlett x Male Reader

Word count: 5,841

Warnings: Smut, A/B/O/ Omegaverse, !!Deadpool and Wolverine spoilers!!, mentions of Wade and Logan figting (Logan repetedly breaking Wade's jaw, Logan has a knife in his shoulder, Ect..), Bottom! Logan, Omega! Logan, Top!Male!Reader, Alpha!Male!Reader, Marking, scenting, regular A/B/O stuff, Breeding, heat inducing wet dreams, breaking and entering.

(A/N: First fic back Hooray! I haven't written for Wolvie in years so bear with me)

Finding a man passed out drunk in your living room wasn’t something you planned for. You were actually planning to use your day off to catch up on some sleep, but this man- you recognized him as your neighbor, Logan, after taking a closer look- was really preventing that from happening. Your unexpected guest had taken over your couch and smelled very heavily of alcohol, you pushed him onto the floor so the smell wouldn't soak into your couch. You knew Logan was tough, and that he slept like a fucking 300 pound brick according to Wade, pushing him off the couch felt like you were trying to push a car with a dead battery but you were able to move the man onto the floor in an unceremonious heap after a couple of minutes of trying. A heavy thud followed his fall, but he didn’t so much as grunt when he hit the floor, and for a moment you wondered if he was actually dead, but the slight twitch in his hand told you he was fine, probably.

You weren’t going to let this ruin your day off, taking another look at the man, you did feel a little bad leaving him on the floor, not enough to put him back on your couch- no you paid way to much for it to do that- but bad enough for you to grab a spare pillow and blanket for the man. It felt a little weird, tucking in your intruder rather than calling the police on him, but you knew Logan well enough to know that he almost definitely meant to break into his own apartment and got a little mixed up. Being drunk will do that.

Moving away from him and into the kitchen, you decided to make breakfast, as your plans of sleeping had been completely ruined at- you looked at the clock on your stove- 6:37 in the morning. You just wanted to get some water before you went back to sleep, but no, now your making breakfast because even though you knew that Logan was relatively friendly- in his own way- waking up to him in your living room was fucking nerve wrecking and you falling back asleep wasn’t likely.

Opening your refrigerator, you took out a couple of eggs, then remembered that Logan was an absolutely massive man and promptly took out a couple more. You figured that eggs and bacon was an ok impromptu breakfast. Pans clinging together as you try to find the right one in the cabinet, trying to light your shitty gas stove without starting a fire, finally beginning to cook the bacon in the pan. 

When Logan walked in a couple minutes later, seemingly still asleep as he nearly reached into the pan to grab the bacon that wasn’t even done cooking yet, you grabbed his wrist, nearly dropping your spatula as you yanked the man's hand away from the pan.

“Dammit, be careful!”

Your voice seemingly woke him up, eyes opening wide as he stared at you, then his face morphed into one of confusion as he looked around, realizing that he definitely wasn’t in his own apartment.

“Good morning, could you please get out of my kitchen, you smell like beer.”

He blinked, “How the hell did I get here?”

Releasing his wrist and turning back to the stove, flipping the bacon as you said, “You broke in.”

You heard him groan, probably in embarrassment or annoyance, you’d be pretty embarrassed if you broke into your super nice neighbor’s apartment too.

“Fuck..” He muttered under his breath. 

“It’s fine, Logan, just let me finish cooking- and don’t sit on my couch!”

He left the kitchen almost immediately, but slowly. You figured he was hungover- you weren’t sure if that could happen with a healing factor like his but with the way he held his head in his hand, you figured something had to be happening. 

Wade had pretty much filled you in on his little multidimensional adventure. He also had a tendency to break into your apartment, (which is probably why you had a relatively calm reaction to Logan) he basically just declared that you were friends one day, it was pretty unceremonious actually. He told you everything, usually things you didn’t want to know, but you didn’t mind his company.

A couple more minutes passed and you finished cooking, making plates and grabbing forks before leaving the kitchen to find Logan. It took you a second, but you found him back in the living room, sitting on the floor, in front of the TV, cover draped over his shoulders. You sat down next to him, silently handing him a plate- he looked a little surprised, but took it with a quick, “Thanks.”

You ate quietly, you could tell Logan appreciated his sizable plate. When he was finished he sat it on the ground next to him. Hesitating for a moment before speaking,

“Sorry about breaking in,”

You hummed, “It’s fine, really, you’re not the first person to break in.”

He grunted, “I know Wade comes over sometimes.”

“Yeah, he’s bought me at least five new doorknobs in the past year, he acts like knocking will kill him.”

The irony made Logan snort, “Yeah, I wish.”

You sat your now empty plate on top of his.

“No you don't, you think Al will let you stay with her if he dies?”

“I’ll get my own place” 

“Uh Huh,” you hummed, “With what money?”

That made him laugh, even if it was a small one.

A moment passed and neither of you spoke, the house grew quiet and the space between the two of you became awkward.

Another moment passed and he pushed himself up off the floor, “I better get going.”

You followed behind him, to the front door where your door was left slightly open and what remains of the handle laid on the floor. You both paused at the sight, Logan glanced over at you, a bit of worry on his face.

You let out a sigh, “I'll get Wade to pay for it.”

The soft, humorous smile on your face made Logan relax as you kicked the sliced metal that used to be your doorknob to the side. 

“Thank you- for breakfast..and not calling the police.”

You laughed before saying, “Anytime, really. Just..call next time.”

He smiled as he left, deciding, deep in his subconscious, that he liked you.

~~~~~~~

You didn’t see him for another month after that, you’ve caught glances of him in passing, but nothing quite as friendly as your first meeting. Until one day, at about two in the morning, you could hear fighting next door. It woke you up out of your sleep as something was thrown against the wall over and over and over, then there was the yelling and growling and snarling. You knew Logan and Wade fought a lot in a mostly unserious way, but it was way to fucking early for DIY WWE. You knew better than to get involved in one of their fights. They were mutants, you weren’t, and you were not about to get in the middle of whatever they had going on. It’s kinda funny, considering what you’ve been told your whole life- the typical Alpha propaganda, being the strongest, the fastest, the leader. Your sure it worked on some people, but you were very fortunate to not fall down the aggressive uber dominate typical male alpha rabbit hole- you knew you wouldn’t always be the fastest, the strongest, or the most eligible leader just because you were an alpha (which most alphas should have figured out by now, considering that, like, half of the fucking Avenger are omegas- it was really funny trying to see people grabble with that fact when it came out.)

Pulling yourself out of your thoughts, you realized that the fighting had stopped, and now it was eerily quiet. You decided that it wasn’t your problem and rolled over to finally get some sleep. Your eyes were closed for maybe thirty seconds when a rapid banging on your door forced you out of bed.

Your door had long since been fixed, unlocking the door and swinging it open, a deeply tired look on your face.

Logan stood in front of you, covered in more blood that you’ve seen on a person in your entire life. A large gash on his face sealing itself right before your eyes. 

“Are you two done?” You asked tiredly.

He nodded, you stepped aside to let him in, only to look down and notice the trail of blood left by his boots. You grabbed him by the back of his shirt like you’d grab an unruly cat by its scruff.

“Take your shoes off, go shower.” He paused, turning around with a questioning look on his face, but he obeyed anyway.

Taking off his bloodied boots and tossing them out the door. You could smell something different in the air, but you were too tired to care- it wasn’t smoke or gas, so you weren’t worried about it, but it was something- something distinctly sweet.

You pointed Logan to the bathroom, flicking the light on with him trailing behind you. You could feel the energy practically draining out of your body every second you were conscious.

Muttering, “All the towels in the cabinet are clean-” you paused for a moment, really taking in the state of the man clothes, torn and bloodied- you noticed the small knife sticking out of his shoulder and didn’t even bother panicking, “You can leave you clothes on the counter, put the knife in the sink though. I’ll bring you something to wear.”

He listened well, you figured he must be tired too, his half-lidded expression and general obedience was surprising, but welcome at 2 in the morning.

You walked past him, turning the shower on before leaving without saying a word, closing the door behind you.

You left out a spare pillow and cover for the man, the same ones as last time, washed, of course, because Logan left them smelling like alcohol and you really didn’t want that stinking up your apartment. You moved on to half heartedly cleaning the blood off the floor with a couple of paper towels- cleaning may have been too strong a phrase, you really just threw them over the bloody footprints and moved on for the night. 

Finding Logan some clothes was really a guessing game, you couldn't really ask the man what size he wore, and it took you an embarrassingly long time to find something you thought would fit him. 

~~~~~~~

A sudden waft of cold air that filled the bathroom when you swung the door open, Logan could hear you moving around. Hot water cascaded down his body, washing away any evidence of the fight he’d had with Wade- really he needed to learn to shut the fuck up sometimes, that clearly wasn’t happening anytime soon, so Logan would settle for breaking his jaw over and over again until he got the point. It never stuck through, not with Wade, even after breaking his spine at least twice the man kept talking. The fight ended when Al woke up, not that Wade really cared, because even then he wouldn’t leave Logan alone. Because he likes Al, and to prove Wade wrong, he headed over to your house.

Despite what Wade had heavily insisted, he’s not avoiding you, and he’s not suppressing any feelings for you because there weren’t any to be had in the first place.

“‘Left you some clothes, i'm gonna wash yours, I’ll try and fix them in the morning but they’re pretty beat up.” He could hear how tired you were, and if he was anybody else he might have felt guilty for keeping you up this late. Surprisingly, he was enjoying the attention.

You were gone before he could respond, by the time he got out of the shower he couldn’t hear any movement around your apartment, so he figured you went to bed. Cracking the bathroom door to let some of the steam out and wiping his hand on the fogged over mirror, his body had healed completely, no longer bruised or caked with blood. Rubbing his hand over his face, suddenly feeling just as tired as you had looked, looking down at the neatly folded pile of clothes replacing his old ones. A large black Superman t-shirt and a gray hoodie, long, red checkered pajama pants, and navy blue underwear, folded right on top. The clothes smelled like you, and not just like the detergent you used, no, they had your natural scent on them. Logan wasn’t going to not wear them, considering he had nothing else to wear and he really didn’t want to walk over to his place to get clothes. He thought back to what happened last time he was here- when he broke in. He doesn’t really remember much of that night, but he does remember his dream. It started off as nothing, the usual black void that kept him calm as he slept, then an unfamiliar scent changed that- he had what he considered an under-active imagination, but that scent kicked it into hyperdrive. He dreamed of being held and loved, but most prominently of getting fucked. Logan would be the first to say that it’s been a long time for him, and that was partially his own fault, chronic self isolation did that, and partially because the only people he’d ever wanted to fuck him were dead. Not all of them, apparently, because whoever scent it was driving him insane. He’s been called feral before, along with other things, but it made him feel like his heat was about to start at that very second. It was miracle he didn’t wake up covered in his own slick that moring- or worse, start his heat in your fucking living room- and that was just from having a cover on him, actually wearing your clothes might put him in a coma.

He figured the strong scent of alcohol covered any of his lingering arousal, or maybe you were too nice to say anything. And you cooked for him- he broke into your house, damaged your property and you fucking cooked for him.

Wade swore he has a crush on you- which led to them fighting, of course, but they fought most days over any little thing. This wasn’t anything new.

He put on the clothes more hesitantly than he’d ever admit- and it was almost overwhelming, but he pushed through it, cutting off the light in the bathroom and navigating through your dark apartment. The light in the living room was on, as well as the TV, the remote was sat on top of the folded cover you left out for him. He quickly settled, he didn’t usually watch TV when he went to sleep, but he needed something to distract from your scent right now. Finding some shitty home improvement show and settling on the couch, keeping his mind as blank as he could, he had Jean to thank for that skill because it was really useful right now. Couldn’t think of sex if he wasn’t thinking at all. Letting the mind numbingly boring show be the white noise as he drifts off.

Logan, however, could not control his thoughts while he was asleep. His subconscious was working overtime, now, with a face and a voice to put to the alpha whose scent had effortlessly disarmed him and brought him to his knees.

It was such an easy image to conjure, you sitting in front of him as he rested his head on your thigh, running your hands through his hair as he stared up at you with pleading eyes, you smiled down at him, a small, warm smile, swearing lightly as he slowly unzipped your pants, already hard and waiting for him, you’d grab him by the hair and he’d let out a slow purr as you pulled him closer. Taking the tip of your cock in his mouth, sliding his tongue over it a few times, finally getting a taste of what he so desperately craves. He took as much as he could in his mouth, feeling it hit the back of his throat. Looking up at you again, a string of moans fell from your open mouth, your eyes just barely open, staring down at him. Your grip on his hair tightened for a moment, the shot of pain coursing through his scalp for a short moment, a muffled moan left him, before settling as you released him. Using his tongue to feel every little vein in your cock, moving slowly as you ran your fingers through his hair again. Feeling no need to rush as the heat in his chest and in his stomach grew hotter and hotter.

His own cock throbbed between his legs but he didn’t touch it, even as it leaked and mixed with the mess of slick in the boxer you gave him, he had no doubt that you would handle it. Letting your cock prod his throat and push past the barrier. Almost all his airflow was blocked but he didn’t pull back, trying to take you as deep as he could only to be yanked back by his hair. Pulled completely off your cock, he looked up at you, confused.

“What?” He said, his voice rough and deep.

You didn’t respond, instead, you stood, still holding onto him- and practically dragged him to your bedroom. He tried to keep up on all fours, panting and moaning at the pain and at how much this turned him on.

He was practically purring in your hand as you guided him onto your bed.

“You look so good like this,”

Your voice was sweet and genuine, quiet praises fell from your mouth as you slowly removed his clothes piece by piece. He only got hotter the more you revealed of him, the burning under his skin reaching an all time high. Once he was completely bare in front of you, you ran your hands across his body, starting at his chest, moving all the way down to his stomach and the thick trail of hair leading down to his cock, then back up again.

“Tell me what you want sweetheart.” You muttered, leaning down and pressing a kiss on his collar.

“I-” he breathed out, vision slightly blurred, “I want you.”

You smiled, kissing his neck, his jaw, his lips, “I want you, too.”

~~~~~~~

The almost overbearing smell of burning oak and honey pulled you out of your sleep, checking your phone, you saw that it’s been less that three hours since you let Logan in, and his scent, which was usually calm and almost unnoticeable, was filling your bedroom, even with him nowhere in sight. Running your hand over your face with a tired groan, then you took a deep breath, and any irritation you felt rising at being woken up again melted away. You enjoyed the scent longer than you should have- it made you feel warm on an otherwise cold night.

For a second you considered opening the window- you were practically drowning in his scent and you aren’t even in the same room- but a sudden and overwhelming feeling of possessiveness kept you from doing it. Logan was vulnerable right now, what kind of friend would you be if you let just anyone encounter him like this- god, what if Wade of all people found out, you nor Logan would ever hear the end of it. A small part of your brain that wasn’t completely clouded by Logan’s utterly intoxicating scent wondered why he suddenly decided to present so strongly, a louder, more primal part of your brain screamed “Heat!” until it's all you could think of. The thought made a shiver shoot through your spine as blood pooled straight downward.

You tried to think of what could have started his heat so suddenly, but any detective work would have to wait until you didn’t feel like breeding him anymore. That quiet, logical part of your brain was telling you to stay in your room- but it was too quiet and you ended up leaving your room and heading into the pitch black darkness that was the rest of your house. You moved completely out of muscle memory, heading straight to the living room. You could feel the heat radiating off the man the second you entered, reaching for the light on the wall, missing it twice before flipping the switch. The room lit up immediately. Logan was truly something out of your wildest fantasies, face buried in a pillow, cover completely discarded on the floor, his shirt rode up while his pants were riding down in an attempt to relieve the heat burning in his skin. Hips rolling against the couch cushion as soft, almost inaudible moans escaped the man. You just stared for a long moment, frozen in shock at the sight.

You were fully aware you shouldn’t be watching this, your heart was pounding it your chest, and your dick was throbbing in your pants. 

Your breath caught in your throat when he stopped, a long groan emitting from him as he rolled onto his back.

Fully hard and straining against the pajama pants you gave him, taking a deep breath in through his nose, then his body tensed, a second later his eyes snapped open and he stared you down, just a few feet away from him, just as flustered, heart pounding just as hard as his, pants just as tight and straining. He pushed himself up, swinging his legs over so he was sitting upright. He gave you a small challenging look. That’s all it took for any bit of resolve you had to be thrown out the window.

It was a messy, desperate first kiss, your hands practically clawing at each other's bodies as you pressed your lip to his- Logan decided that you were definitely a better kisser in real life than you were in his dream. It left both of you hot and gasping for air. Pushing Logan back down onto the couch, pushing his legs open and slotting yourself between them. He pulled back with a winded laugh and a smirk.

“Mhh, what’s so funny?” you asked, not waiting for him to answer before you continued kissing any exposed bit of skin you could find, leaving a hickey on his collar bone- only to watch it disappear seconds later.

He craned his neck back almost instinctively, giving you as much space as he could.

“Didn’t think I’d actually ever want an alpha,’ thought that was a bunch of bullshit.”

You hummed, your hands finding their way under his shirt, feeling his skin against yours, the searing heat of it. Feeling what Wade had called on numerous occasions ‘fucking massive tits’. You had to say he was right, watching as a shudder ran through Logan's body. 

“And now?” You asked, a small smirk on your face.

He hissed quietly, rolling his hips against yours, “I’m fucking burning for you.”

You felt the nearly unsuppressable urge to mark him rise. He wanted you, he was burning for you. 

Not any other alpha out there- He could have gone anywhere tonight, you're sure he knew every late night bar in a 50 mile radius, and he still came to you.

You pulled back, nearly ripping his pants in a desperate attempt to get them off- your frantic, ecstatic state made a small laugh rise in Logan’s chest, he didn’t even consider helping you. He let you do all the work, if you were that desperate for him then you wouldn’t complain- and you didn’t. (He was a considerable amount more desperate than you were, considering he was just humping your couch like a damn dog 5 minutes ago and he just started what was more than likely going to be a very, very bad heat.)

When you were finally able to get his pants off, you could feel just how wet he was. The navy boxer you gave him were drenched in slick, clinging to him, showing off the hard outline of his cock. Logan sunk farther into the couch, a low purr emitting from deep in his chest.

“Don’t just look.” he panted.

His body reacted so strongly every time you took your hands off of him, even if it was just for a moment, his body would ache and writhe the second they were away from him. He let out a low breath when you finally touched him again, one hand wrapped around his cock, the other holding his face as you kissed him. He moaned unapologetically, loud, but muffled by your lips as you kissed him. His hips bucked up into your hands as you rubbed him through his boxer. Logan's head fell back against the cushions, eyes squeezed shut as a babble of swears fell from his lips, almost indistinguishable from his moans and low growls.

You tease him for what, to Logan, felt like hours. Sensitive and so pent up, he clung to you, holding your body against his, his face buried in your neck, taking in as much of your scent as he could. The burning in his skin didn’t stop, but it felt a lot cooler with you against him.

Logan was scenting you- you realized that the two of you would be smelling like each other and sex for at least a week- a part of you wished it was longer. That he’d walk around and have everyone in his vicinity know he was yours.

Your hand slipped under his boxers, pulling them down until they were about mid thigh. Moving past his hard, twitching cock and straight down to his hole. Soaking wet, you barely touched it before he squirted more slick onto your hand. Still with your face pressed to his neck, you chuckled.

“I barely even touched you..” you muttered.

With a growl, he said, “fuck off.”

You kissed his neck, right over the scent gland, making it flare up again.

“Make me, cowboy.”

You didn't give him time to respond, pushing two fingers into his hole, feeling him clench around them. His hips shifted against yours as you massaged his walls, listening to him grunt, and purr, and moan. Rubbing his cock against your still clothed one. Little sits of pre-cum beading at the tip and smearing on your pants.

He could feel pressure building in his stomach, it was sudden and unstoppable- not like he’d want it to-  with little warning to you, his body tensed hard, his legs closing around your body and his arms holding you in an almost crushing grip. He whined, bucking hard and fast against you- trying to fuck your fingers deeper into him as cum short from his cock, staining your pants and both your shirts. 

Fuck, that only made things worse. Once his arms were loose enough around you, you pulled back, sitting up and looking at the mess between the two of you. His legs were wide open, one hooked on the back of the couch, the other hanging off the side. He stared at you, pupils blown wide, thrusting his hips against nothing in a desperate attempt to feel something.

“More.”  He growled out.

“You want more?” You asked in a teasing tone, moving your hands to rest on his thighs.

He nodded.

You hummed softly, leaning down and kissing his cheek, “Ok sweetheart, I’ll give you more.”

He purred at the nickname. Letting his eyes close he listened to you move, hearing each article of clothes hit the floor, your scent got stronger and he breathed it in as deeply as he could.

Logan gasped when you pressed the tip of your cock against his hole, trying to press against it only for you to pull back.

“Relax.” You said, running your hands over his thighs I what he figured was supposed to be a soothing motion be it only made things worse

-you were right there, just a little bit more, please-

“You’d think after being alive for 200 years you’d learn some patients.” You pushed in slowly, watching as his mouth fell open in a silent moan. Pushing in inch by inch, feeling how hot he was around you, squeezing you tight. Finally, you were fully pushed inside him. His hands grinned the couch cushions so tight you thought they might tear.

Teeth clenched hard and chest heaving, he nearly shouted, “fucking move!”, after a second, “please.”

You abided, pulling half way out, giving him a shallow thrust. Over and over, pulling out farther and farther, then burying your cock back into his hole until you were slamming into him burying you cock deep inside him every time.

Shame seemed to stop existing for him as he moaned your name loud and clear, then,

“More Alpha, come on- please.”

He said it so easily that he almost didn’t realize it until you paused, looking down at him, a nearly unreadable expression in your face.

Panting, you said, “say that again.”

So gone, so beyond horny that his mind had slipped away from him, catching up moments later.

“More, y/n-“ you pinched his side, a wide grin on your face.

“That’s not what you said.”

He huffed, “fuck you.”

You gave him a slow, soft thrust, “come on, you already said it, it just wanna hear it again.”.

He glared up at you, resisting the urge to tell you to get to hell.

“Please..Alpha.”

The look on your face made it worth it, you pulled back until just the tip of your cock remained inside. Logan knew you weren’t going to pull out now, so he braces himself for the hard pounding he knew was inevitable. When it did come he put a couple claw shaped holes in your couch.

His body bounced hard with every thrust. Listening to you growl and pant as you hammered into him. This was miles better than any dream or fantasy. Holding on to the couch for dear life.

Minutes passed and you showed no sign of slowing down, even as another orgasm shot through Logan’s body, you didn’t stop, looking down at the cum splattered across his chest.

“My pretty omega-“ you panted, you felt Logan tighten around you, “want me to fill you with my cum, huh?”

Logan, covered in his own sweat, slick, and cum, barely able to think, nodded.

He could feel your knot starting to swell, it took more and more force to push into him- it made you slower, but you still slammed into him just as hard. Your pre-cum leaked into his hole, your own orgasm moments away and Logan could tell.

A little dizzy, he put his hands on your shoulder, trying to guide you down but you wouldn't go- even though he was dazed and ,for the most part, satiated, there was still something he wanted.

“Y/n, mhhm- Alpha- mark me-”

It wasn't a request, it was an order, and you couldn't find it in yourself to deny him.

You couldn't think of the repercussions, what this would mean for either of your futures, what it would do to your still extremely new relationship, not because you didn't want to, but you physically couldn't, the idea of making him yours was too strong.

You leaned down and pressed your teeth into his bare skin. You could only taste his blood for a short moment, the skin healed as fast as it broke- instead of perfectly clear skin being left there was a scar. Before you could even begin to wonder how that could happen you came hard, knot swelling, keeping you locked deep inside of Logan as you finished inside of him. 

You pressed a kiss on his cheek, he blinked tiredly, a small grin on his face.

“What?” you yawned, feeling exhausted.

“I owe Wade an apology..”

You groaned, flopping down onto his chest.

“Don't bring him up now,”

He laughed, “‘ thought you liked him?”

“Yeah, just not while my dick is still in you, you can talk all you want about Wade in 30 to 40 minutes when my knot goes down.” you said, wrapping your arms around you to the best of your ability. 

He did the same, “Fine.”

~~~~~~~

Logan’s heat lasted about a week, he stayed with you the whole time, partially because he really didn’t want to deal with Wade, but mostly because the two of you could not stop fucking. He was your mate after all, what were you supposed to do, let him suffer? In the past 6 days you and Logan have fucked a total of 9 times- 

-10 if he didn’t stop kissing you neck right fucking down.

“Logan, I have to go to work,” You said in a stern tone that only made him want you more.

“Call off.”

“I’ve already been off for six days because of you.”

He really didn’t care- you could feel him leave a hickey on your neck- as though you weren’t already covered in hundreds of bites and bruises because of him.

“I’m going to lose my job-”

“Come on, please?” He said quietly.

You took a deep breath in-

“What the fuck, I leave for a couple of days and you house break my roommate!”

Oh god, it's entirely too early for this.

You don’t know where Wade came from, but now he’s in your kitchen with you and Logan.

“Kidding, I’ve been listening to you two fuck all week. You-” He puts a finger in your chest, “-are a real freak. And I thought I was a dirty dog, you are really something else.”

“Fuck off, Wade.” Logan said, seems like the mere presence of Wade turned him off.

“And you, I don’t even know what to say to you- You think you know a guy, live with him for a year and he just doesn’t tell you he’s an omega, that's considered extremely rude in most places. You don’t have to worry about anyone else being surprised, I’m pretty sure they heard you begging for Y/n sweet, succulent dick all the way in Europe.”

You stood, grabbing your keys off the counter- you were not staying and watching Wade get torn to shreds.

You turned to Logan to see that he was thoroughly pissed off.

“Don't get blood on my floor.” You kissed his cheek, knowing it was very likely  that he was going to get blood on every surface. “Have fun.”

You walked away, hearing a loud thump behind you and deciding that you weren’t going to pay it any attention, even as Wade’s high pitched screams met your ears. Reaching the front door you saw it in pieces again. That was a problem for later, for now you needed to get to work and attempt to explain to your manager why you’ve been MIA.

Request are open

marjorie. logan howlett x ftm!reader. part OO1.

synopis: after logan and you passed, Laura thought it would be the time for her to use everything she learned from you two to raise her children or to live her life, not to scold her parents from another universe.

cw: death, grieving, mention of t-shots and needles, angst, scenting. wolverine & deadpool insertion. Reader goes by he him and he is a mutant too, afab terms used. No use of y/n. Inspired in marjorie by taylor swift only by the lyrics.

words: 2.5k

a/n: I'm probably gonna do a series of this bcs this shit is long.

☆☆☆

Laura always knew Logan and you were soulmates. In the second she met you two.

And she only confirmed it when both of you passed.

"Never be so kind you forget to be clever." Logan said to her.

You couldn't deny that the second most beautiful thing about Logan's death was that Laura got in your life. The most beautiful thing was that he could finally rest.

Even though it broke you into pieces when Laura showed up on your door and gave you the news, a part of you was relief for him. He was so tired, and you could see that, you weren't stupid, that's something Logan loved about you.

But he was exhausted, you could see that, you always managed to see right through him from the second he met you back in the mansion. And it was obvious that he had lived too much at that time, and despite your obvious rejection of him leaving you that day, you knew it was for the best. You were satisfied, you knew he knew how much you loved him, and you knew how much he loved you.

You were spiritually connected to him, and you knew that because your grief started the first day he didn't call. You knew, you always know, he would say.

That didn't mean that you weren't grieving harder when you got the news, it just wasn't a shock to you when Laura told you. You would sleep hugging his flannel shirt and squeezing his tags in a fist as you cried, hoping to wake up and that the scent of him there suddenly became him again.

It never happened, of course. Logan was gone.

But Laura was there, staying with you like Logan would wanted. And God, you would've loved to raise her with him, he would've loved that too, you are so sure, you knew him so well. She was a sweet girl, and she became even sweeter under your wing. And you cried all night because she managed to copy some of Logan's manners in the short time he spent with her. They were so alike it broke you even more, but you were a strong man, Logan always told you that.

You knew he was taking care of both of you and that you were a great dad. You knew, somehow you knew. Laura could hear you talk to him some nights when you thought she was asleep, and you cried, telling him how much you wished he could see her, see the smart, amazing woman she had became. Logan knew. You knew it too.

Laura made you so happy, and how couldn't she? She was an innocent girl, craving affection. You gave that to her. Oh, you were the most amazing girl dad in the world.

When she got older, you started to work with Logan's limo plus of the job you had as a lawyer assistant, so money was good at that time, and luckily, Logan had left you a bit of money too. Smart wolf, you chuckled when found the money.

Related to your identity, Laura didn't know and didn't mind, and you made sure she was an open minded kid and explained it to her when she was old enough. And she noticed, when she knew, that you had stop taking your T-shots. You hadn't even realized yourself, and the answer to her question of why you hadn't been taking them, was so freaking sad she could've broke into tears right there.

"Logan used to do them for me." You sighed. "I was always afraid of needles. "You chuckled sadly. She left the topic there.

When Laura adopted a brown cat from the street, you sighed and accepted, feeling that it could make her learn something about parenting or some shit like that. You named it Logan, of course.

You would pet that cat all night long, you slowly stopped crying and began to move on. Gosh, but it was so hard when you got in the limo and it smelled like him. Sometimes you cried, and that was okay, you had lost the love of your life, the man that made you the happiest guy in the world, and grief was long.

He died as a hero.

You didn't tho.

When you fell sick, Laura was on a trip, and you didn't want to worry her, but you didn't have much hope. You had lived a good life, but a wild that, a lot of drugs, cigars, and alcohol, also a lot of wounds, you had faced death plenty of times when you were part of the X-Men. Maybe it was your turn to go with your friends.

When Laura came back, you were already pretty bad. Logan was sitting next to you in bed, your weak hand caressing it's fur with a weak smile.

"Dad..." She cried, kneeling in front of you. You cupped her face in your tough, wise hand. "I don't know what to do without you, please."

You were everything Logan wasn't. You thought with your heart and acted with your brain, Logan thought with his brain and acted with his heart. He had to tell you to stop being so empathetic, you had to tell him to be less impulsive. He had to tell you to 'relax that pretty head of yours', you had to tell him to use it more, as you giggled. The perfect combination of kind and smartness was your daughter, the perfect combination between you and Logan. Individually, you were great parents, and Laura was sure that you've always taught her what Logan taught her before, your ideals and principles collided and combined in the most gorgeous and smoothest dance of all time.

"Are you scared?" She asked.

"Nah, kid, I've faced death so many times it doesn't scare me anymore." You sighed with a chuckle.

A silence got between you two, not an awkward one, for sure, you were her dad, but she didn't know what else to say, or how to feel.

"I get to see that mad wolf again, too."

She bit her lip to retrain a sob. Gosh, how could you say that? Although you were right, it was so freaking sad.

"Cry your eyes out, kid, remember what I taught you." You said in your classical parenting tone.

Laura squeezed your hand as she layed her head in the hospital bed. You stroked her hair as she cried.

"Your dad and I will be watching you, 'lright? Making sure you don't get into so much trouble." She nodded under your touch, still sobbing. You coughed a bit, your free hand stroking the tabs hanging in your neck and sighing in relief. You were going to meet him again. "Look at me, pup." You said.

She raised her face, crying her eyes out as she looked at your serious yet loving grin.

"Never be so clever you forget to be kind." You said, cleaning her tears with your shaking thumb. She nodded under your touch, caressing your hand.

You passed that night, you hand gripping at Logan's tags so hard they had to bury you with them, next to him. The two X's touching in the taller stick, like they were grabbing each other.

You didn't die heroically, but you were Laura's hero.

Grief was so hard. Laura began to understand you. There was so much she would loved to had told you before and she didn't because she thought she had more time. She didn't, but that didn't matter because you knew.

There was so much she loved about you, about your parenting, things that made her feel so loved and heard and that she took for granted and just never told you.

At reunions, you would bump her knee with yours so she knows you are there for her. She regretted every time she told you she was to tired to go see the sunrise because you loved watching the sun go up, and every time she said no to one of your special, unique teas that she would never have the chance to taste now. She hated herself for complaining when you drove her to school and back home, saying it wasn't cool.

She hated that she kept quiet, that she didn't ask you more about you, about how you lived, about how to live. How to be. She regretted that she didn't take notes from your best parenting quotes. But she remembered you were alive, alive in her head.

You didn't ask for a child, and yet you never mistreated her, never raised a hand to her, never complained about having her. She was so grateful for you and so sad that she couldn't tell you that before.

After work, she would hang where you two were buried, to see if maybe any words she said there would get to you. They did. You heard everything.

God, she missed you.

(...)

Wade Wilson was having a really hard time finding one of your versions to take with him. It wasn't that you weren't willing to help him or some shit like that, it was that in every universe, you had a Logan (except in one he found you wrestling under the sheets with that German boy), so you were no use. Why? Because he needed you single or you wouldn't pair to Logan.

It was almost a rule that every Logan needed you, in every universe, in every timeline (except in that weird one with the Nightcrawler but it doesn't matter). So, if Logan doesn't have a you, the prophesy or whatever shit that was making Wade's timeline dissappear, didn't work.

So, every you seemed to have a Logan, Wade was even starting to get jealous, he didn't know if jealous of Logan or of you, or both. You were such a couple of lovebirds it almost made him sick and sad.

Finally, he spotted a you sitting in a cementery next to a grave with an X. Ah, perfect, Wade thought. He never seemed so happy to see you grieving.

"Hi there, sweet pea" he kneeled like he was talking to a puppy.

"The fuck do you want... weirdo in a sex suit?" You frowned looking at him.

"Okay so I lost number in the times I've talk to different versions of you so I'm going straight to the point, sweet pie." He tried to approach to the grave and you showed your fangs, your eyes getting yellow and dilatated, hissing at him. "Whoa, peanut, no need to get feral, not doing anything weird to grumpy's dirt pile, this is no saltburn." He stepped back.

"It's not just him." You said. Wade frowned and looked at the grave. The name Laura Howlett was beneath Logan's.

Even he got speechless.

"What do you want, asshole?" You asked, your claws growing from your nails. "You have a minute before I rip you open".

Well, he wasn't open in half and you were walking with him, so he was convincing, or you were so desperate.

He lied, of course. He didn't told you who you'll have to meet in order to help him, he just said that an X-Men needed help.

Before you can realize, you are dumped in the TVA, and before you can check your side to notice the yellow spandex, you are dumped again into the void.

Wade had knocked you in order to get you into your cian suit, you sighed at the hard spandex around you when you stood up alone in the middle of the Desert. You shaked your hair a bit and began walking, the heat of the place was so freaking uncomfortable, and that suit didn't help either.

"Wade you son of a bitch, this suit is killing m-"

Quiet. You got quiet.

What in the actual fuck?

He was there. Standing in a ridiculous yellow spandex suit, showing his claws inside of Wade as he looked at you. He was there. He.

Whatever emotion was going through you at that moment faded as you frowned at Wade.

"What the fuck is your goddamn problem?" I shoved out your claws from your nails and approached, taking Wade by the neck and sinking your claws into his neck to shove him into the truck there. "What the fuck was going through that empty head of yours?!" You shouted, breathing heavily.

"I thought you'll be happy!" Wade shouted back.

"Happy? I start moving on and you think that what I want to see is my lover in a ridiculous spandex suit? Correction, someone who isn't my lover because he's dead!"

"He is right there, peanut! He is not dead"

"He is not my Logan, not the father of my child!" You shouted in a sarcastic laugh, ignoring the man behind you.

Your Logan. Your child.

What the hell were you talking about? He thought to himself. Not because he didn't now you, but because you were an exact clone of the one he had back in his universe. No change, no modified details.

A clone of you. Of his partner, his lover, his husband.

He was frozen, looking at you while you shouted at Wade things that he wasn't listening anymore. God you were as handsome as he remembered you, he used to love when you shouted to someone (if it was Scott, better). And he could smell your scent, that strong, masculine cologne you used to use that always made his knees shake. It was you, literally you, again, so freaking close to him, enough to scoop you up and take you with him forever.

But that was a ridiculous thought, of course, you weren't really you.

His you.

And maybe the sight of you now made him realize how bad he missed you, how much he had missed that scent of yours, that tone of voice, your hair, your skin, your hands, your eyes. Oh. Those eyes.

And he was trapped with you right there, how was he expected to control himself when you were there? Being as beautiful as you always were.

He still couldn't believe how someone like you could have given him a chance, he was so mean, so rude to everyone, rough and hard as a rock, impossible to cross or see through. But you did, you always did.

You were kind, soft; but also logical and smart when it was necessary. You acted with your brain, and thought with your heart. You were everything he wasn't.

Kind, soft, logical, smart and dead.

But even with that, you were there. He didn't understand pretty well this whole multiverse thing, the only thing he knew was that that wasn't you, but even with that, he longed for you, he was desperate, touch starved; more like you-starved.

He couldn't move, he couldn't speak to you, he was speechless until you looked at him with anger and a hint of affection, love, need, sadness.

"the fuck you looking at?" You said, hardly hidding the crack in your voice.

He sighed. This was going to be long.

I’ve got a request my dear! Can you please do bottom Nanami who just had rough day and finally gets the chance to relax and be a pillow princess.

Love you dear!

Good Boys Deserve Good Things

𓇼 🌊 🐚 -Nanami Kento x Dom! Male Reader

𓇼 🌊 🐚-Cw: Overstimulation, dacryphilia, praise, Some sir and daddy kink, like one spank and manhandling (readers a strong boy 💪🏽)

It really didn’t take anyone special to tell how hard Nanami Kento worked. From a busy salaryman who hated his job to a sorcerer who still couldn’t stand the business, just had less of a hatred towards it. That was life though, grinding through shit you hate. It was worth it he believed, eventually retiring to Malaysia with his sweetheart was worth any challenge.

It would be awhile until that point though. For now he was a slave to the workforce. Nanami was returning back from home after a long day as usual. He looked over to see the kitchen was clean and some delicious looking cuisine in a container. Must’ve been your cooking.

He kicked off his dress goes and took his suit coat off before trudging upstairs. A few annoying comments from Gojo always got him exhausted and annoyed. He entered the room to see you relaxing on the bed lazily scrolling through you’re phone. You glanced up to see your husband with an annoyed expression on his face.

You couldn’t help but smile at his annoyed and flustered look. You could tell he was aggravated, not at you of course. “Hey there handsome, work got you down?” You smiled teasingly. Nanami Kento was no submissive man by any standards. A wise and reserved man which could be seen by anyone. Though, sometimes a man needed a break.

He got on his knees crawling over to your side of the bed as your large hand cupped his cheek. “Please sir….” He pleaded. The alias rolling off his tongue sounding like sweet honey in your ears. “Please what handsome?” You inquired with a knowing eyebrow.

“Please, fuck me…” He spoke softly, cheeks flushed with a pretty pastel dusted across them. You couldn’t help the mean grin that graced your lips. “Was that so hard baby? So hard asking you’re husband to make you forget about every little thing?” He shook his head no.

~🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

“Shit! You’re squeezing me so much handsome..” You lick your lips panting as you gripped his hips from the back pulling him into you. Kento had his face buried in the pillow as he moaned and cried. Pretty hazel eyes red from crying so much.

“S’ too much- can’t take it! Can’t take it! Mercy~!” You smiled softly at his pleas giving a small slap to his plump ass. “Shhh, know you can take it… because you’re a good boy right? Good boys deserve good things right?♡” You didn’t really expect an answer but you were pleased when you heard a whine. “Yes- I deserve this…”

You nodded in agreement. “You do, so stop thinking and let me take care of you okay baby?” You cooed softly at him as you gripped his sweaty locks. You gently ran you’re fingers through them before tugging to get him to arch. His face was pulled off the pillow leaving his mouth open to let the groans and moans escape.

He had no idea how many times he’d cum already. All he knew is that he’d been manipulated into position after position by you. Pretty head blank from everything except you’re dick in his ass abusing his prostate with each Plap! Plap! Plap! You gave so graciously to him.

You felt the telltale signs of his impending orgasm as he constricted tighter around you. You lifted you’re leg to plant beside his torso and adjusted you’re hands to his broad and muscular shoulders to pull him back into you. You leaned your weight over him making your dick hit even deeper from the forced arch. You smiled softly as you heard him cry out, hands reaching up to the drool covered, sweaty pillow to try and pull himself away from the burning pleasure.

“Nope, don’t run away from this dick baby…” You grinned as you pulled him right back to you’re pelvis. “Shhhh, shhhh, let daddy hear you scream for him m’kay???” You asked, but he knew it was a demand. The coil in his stomach stretched to its limits, face dripping with sweat, toes curling and eyes rolling back.

He peered up at you from wet lashes, a pleading look on his face. You smiled at his manners. “You know you don’t have to ask to cum…. Nut on daddy’s cock…” you gave a final sturdy thrust and his orgasm came crashing down like a wave on the coast. He gave a final drawn out groan mixed with a gasp as thick, ivory rivulets spilled from his shaft.

You came just in time with him as you filled him to the brim with your own release. You sighed in relief as you rubbed small shapes in his hips to ground him. After a few moments he felt you pull out and quickly flip him over before climbing back atop. You lined yourself up once more with his entrance as he let out a whimper from feeling you invade once more.

“You’re still coherent prince… can’t have that can we…? My sweet pillow prince needs to have his pretty head drained isn’t that right?” You asked with a slight mocking tone as he nodded. His legs raised as he wrapped them around your torso, burying his tear soaked face into your shoulder. You smiled brushing a small start tear from his cheek.

You kissed his temple before gently thrusting. “Just a little more for me baby… just let go of all those inhibitions hmmm?” You asked in sickly sweet tone. And who was he to deny or say no when you asked like that?

A/N: It is so nice to be back and writing for JJK! Thanks so much for the request Jason, I missed all you sm! Things have just been busy. Anyways, keep requesting! Im on a writing kick. :)

heart wrecking angst⇩

•

•

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In Deadpool 4, Logan discovers his presence in Wades universe messes up cycle of events and if he continues to live in it— the universe can collapse (butterfly effect kind of thing), so in the end of the movie B-15 and minute men show up dramatically a they do at Wades apartment, and escort Logan back into the headquarters planning to send him back to his “home”. Both Logan and Wade see the scale of this, and Wade soon is taken to talk to him one last time before never seeing him again since B-15 felt generous that day. So she give them this moment.

Wade scoffs: So now is the time? Hah, I should’ve known, TVA has every event written down to nanoseconds… I swear, it puts someone’s strict mother’s skill to plan the whole year in advance and never let her kid see the light of day without her permission at shame!

All that while Logan looks at him. Though he has so much to say, to confess, but decides not to do it, maybe because it’ll hurt letting him go more than it already is.

Wade approaches him: I… ugh, was not prepared, otherwise I would’ve pulled out my 100 page essay and read it to you in British accent as you walk further away from me into the sunset.

Logan: Wade?

Wade: Yeah?

Logan struggles. What is there to say now? His heart is aching, and cracks with each passing second there’s left. He wanted to say his life was at its fullest by Wade’s side, how he’s now changed man, all because of him. For him. That he will continue being that person in his world simply because Wade will be proud.

Logan: I might have my own place, my house and whatnot… But I never dared to call it my home, y’know?

Wade listens, no longer daring to quip a sound. And hazel eyes of Logan glisten in nothing but sadness. If that emotion could be painted— it would be him. Right now.

Logan: I wish the world was on my side, fair to me, to us, Wade.

His voice shakes. And he no longer cares to control the tear that soon oozes out the corner of an eye, to his hope, telling at least a tenth of all what his heart wants to say. Then it finally hits merc. Is this really it?

Wade: Peanut, I promise, it’s okay.

No. It fucking hurts. Wade never hated to say goodbye so damn much like now, but understands, that to love someone is letting them go.

He’s only doing it for Logan, for his universe. Sure there’s something that’s waiting for him, something better than this. Which what Logan deserves, after non consensual involvement in Wade’s goal to save his own world. After what he had been through.

Logan softly sobs: It shouldn’t be, I wish I had a choice. Because coming back is long time off my list.

Wade realizes his emotions reveal, a hot heavy tear drops off his chin, and fake but bitter smile grows to comfort Wolverine. Ignoring everything what’s falling into pieces in his chest.

Wade: I just… I just never want you to get into dangerous shit cause of me. I want you to be okay.

But Logan doesn’t care, even if his old life promises to be as peaceful as Swedish government. In the end, being next to Wade— suddenly makes chaos worth it.

Logan: I was okay, Wade, I was… so happy— but as soon as my foot steps through the teleporter…

Logan breaks as more tears rush down his face. His gaze locked with Wade’s.

Logan: … I will comeback being the same pitty guy you picked up at the bar.

But Wade protests.

Wade: No, nope, you’ll comeback better than ever.

He gives up smiling, then reaching out for the man, locking him in the most loving hug, arms wrapping waist, one digging fingertips into the shirt, and second one cards Logan’s hair. Which makes older man hate himself for not hugging Wade often before, when they were so happy, and lived under one roof not knowing this day would come.

Wade: You are, and always will be the best wolverine.

Logan hides his face in Wade’s neck, ashamed someone might see him, how destroyed he is with pain of leaving him, forever.

Wade: Thank you infinitely, for staying, saving my world.

Wade’s hushed voice sends chills, and throat begins to burn, yearning to say one last thing as he hears footsteps approaching.

Logan: Thank you for becoming mine.

(lmk if you’re interested in me writing full fic based off of this💛❤️)