I love ur work!! I write stuff for Gambit so could I ask if you could write a jealous Gambit would love to see ur take on it. You can add others to it if you want but I’m thinking gambit jealous over ur ex or something like that. Or even just a gambit reacting to ur ex. Fem reader if possible. Your writing is great <3
Jealousy, Jealousy...
Ft: Misc Marvel Men, GN reader + GN ex -> Included: Gambit, Nightcrawler, The Human Torch, Deadpool
Content Warnings: General jealousy/feelings of insecurity, ex partner not a terrible person, religion in Kurt’s
A/N: LOLLL SORRY FOR THE HIATUS, I had to become a legal guardian for someone and its been cray-cray but I'm a New Yorker now so if any radioactive animals wanna bite me... (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵) Also I'm getting rid of my rating system because I really couldn't tell when to mark it PG or PG-13 so if its NSFW I'll put a warning otherwise the content warnings can "rate it"
Gambit/Remy LeBeau
Remy LeBeau had met plenty of former lovers.
Occupational hazard.
Sometimes they threw drinks.
Sometimes they threw knives.
Once, memorably, someone threw a live lobster.
So when you told him your ex would be joining a mutual friend's cookout, he'd simply flashed that easy grin.
"Cher, if dey survived dat relationship, den we already got somethin' in common."
You'd laughed.
He'd meant it. Mostly.
The trouble started before your ex even arrived.
"Oh!" Rogue said as she spotted someone crossing the yard. "There they are."
Remy looked up.
Effortlessly put together, a dimpled kind of smile that made strangers smile back.
Within thirty seconds they'd shaken everyone's hand, complimented Ororo's lemonade, helped a neighbor carry folding chairs, and somehow gotten the ever gruff Logan talking about motorcycles.
"...Well," Remy muttered.
"What?"
"Dey got charm."
You nudged him. "So do you, my charming Cajun."
"Mm." His smile remained, ever suave and beautiful,it just didn't quite reach his eyes anymore.
He noticed something else, too- people kept gravitating toward them, they weren’t loud or demanding some sort of attention as a newcomer but it just… kept happening.
Every conversation seemed to open naturally around them.
Remy had spent years cultivating that sort of magnetism, a literal survival tactic and to see someone wear it so effortlessly made something unpleasant twist in his stomach.
Lunch was served buffet style.
You loaded your plate before wandering over to where your ex was already standing.
"Mind if I steal one?"
You didn't wait for an answer.
You reached over.
Plucked a roasted potato right off their plate.
"Pfft."
They rolled their eyes.
"I hadn't even tasted it yet."
"You've got two more."
"Thief, you attract your own I guess"
"Guilty as charged."
The exchange lasted all of ten seconds.
Neither of you thought anything of it.
Remy did.
His fork paused halfway to his mouth. He hated that thought. More than that, he hated that he'd had it at all.
By late afternoon, everyone had migrated toward the firepit, passing around marshmallows and metal skewers.
You wandered off toward the cooler.
Your ex followed a minute later.
Remy watched without meaning to, he told himself he wasn't watching, he was keeping an eye on what's his, that’s fair.
Then he realized he'd stopped listening to whatever Scott was saying.
"...Remy?"
"Hm?"
Scott gestured vaguely.
"I asked if you wanted another drink."
"Oh."
Remy blinked.
"Sure."
Scott glanced toward the cooler before looking back at him.
"...You okay?"
A lazy grin spread across Remy's face automatically.
"Toujours." Always.
Scott looked unconvinced, but was quickly distracted by you returning a few seconds later carrying two sodas.
"Here."
You handed one to Remy.
"Merci, chère."
Your ex sat across the fire.
Conversation resumed.
The moment passed.
Except it hadn't, as the sun dipped lower, someone suggested going out for dinner instead of grilling dessert.
"Oh!" you said. "There's that little seafood place by the marina."
Your ex smiled instantly.
"They still make that ridiculous bread pudding?"
"I hope so."
"I used to have to stop you from ordering two, god the smell makes me nauseous it’s so weird”
The two of you laughed, and as always when you were happy Remy smiled. But he was slowly stirring the melting ice in his drink. He didn’t have an appetite.
Dinner wasn't awkward, your ex laughed at Remy's stories, whistled at his card tricks, bought him another round of drinks
"Dey always like dis?" Remy asked quietly after your ex wandered off to pay for appetizers.
You looked over.
"Pretty much."
"Huh."
"They're a good person."
"Remy can see dat."
He rubbed the back of his neck.
"...Dat's de problem."
The drive home was quieter than usual.
Silence broken by the occasional quip and Remy drumming his fingers across the steering wheel, streetlights swept across the windshield in warm intervals.
You reached over and rested your hand on his thigh.
"You've been awfully quiet."
Remy hummed.
"Remy been talkin'."
"You've been making jokes."
"...Dat’s talkin."
"And?"
He exhaled through his nose.
"You really wanna know?"
"I really do."
For a long moment, only the tires filled the silence.
Finally "I ain' jealous often."
You looked at him.
"But when I am..." A small laugh escaped him "...Mon Dieu, I hate it."
You waited, he wasn't done.
"I keep tellin' myself it don't matter.It don' matter dat dey know where ya like t'eat.It don' matter dat ya can take food off each odda's plates.It don' matter dat everybody smile when dey see y'all togetha." His grip tightened slightly on the steering wheel. "But den I start wonderin'."
His voice softened.
"If I walk in a room wit' you twenty years from now...will we move dat easy?"
The question broke your heart a little, and when you pulled into the driveway, neither of you got out, the only movement was when you turned in your seat instead.
"Remy."
He looked over.
"I need you to listen."
He nodded.
"My ex knows who I was."
"They know old me.They know me before my world changed, mutant life and other things.” You smiled.
"But you?"
You reached over, taking his hand.
"You know me after I learned who I wanted to become."
His thumb brushed over your knuckles.
"You know the version of me that falls asleep against your shoulder during movies."
"The one who steals your trench coat, the one who learned how to shuffle cards because you kept insisting it wasn't that hard, the parts of me that have been wonderfully changed because of you and everything that’s happened with you"
A reluctant smile tugged at his lips.
"...You still cheat at shufflin."
"I absolutely do."
"You terrible at hidin' de extra cards."
"I like winning, I’d never win against you otherwise."
He laughed quietly.
"There you are."
You squeezed his hand.
"And twenty years from now?" You leaned over the center console to kiss his cheek. “I fully intend to keep stealing food off your plate."
He raised an eyebrow.
"Only my plate?"
"Well..."
You pretended to think.
"I guess I could steal from someone else."
Remy's hand caught yours before you could pull away.
"Non." His grin finally reached his eyes again. "Dat job belong t'me now."
You laughed.
"So possessive."
"Nah."
He brought your knuckles to his lips.
"Jes' practical."
You rolled your eyes affectionately.
"Practical."
"Mm-hmm."
"You know if you wanted I can order my own food."
"An' where de romance in dat?"
The words were light and teasing, unmistakably Remy.
But when he reached across the console to pull you into a lingering kiss, there was something else tucked beneath it, quiet relief that whatever memories had come before, you were still choosing to make new ones with him, and he intended to make enough of them that one day, someone else might smile at the mention of your favorite restaurant, only to realize they'd never heard of it.
Because it would be a place that belonged only to the two of you.
Nightcrawler/Kurt Wagner
Kurt told himself he was imagining things, it was so much easier that way. Easier to not focus on the immediate joking and the fact that your guard was lowered immediately. Your ex had only been invited because you shared the same friend group. It wasn't strange. Adults remained friends with former partners all the time. Kurt knew that. He'd even admired the maturity of it when you'd explained it months ago.
"It just... wasn't meant to be," you'd said with a shrug. "That doesn't mean I stopped caring about them as a person."
He'd smiled and agreed, it was a beautiful thing- to love even when having to reconcile a lost future.
Now, sitting beside you on some old friend's apartment balcony while everyone traded stories over drinks, he wished his heart believed what his head already knew.
"...And they didn’t eat apple pie if it hadn’t been chilled"
Your head snapped toward your ex.
"You remembered that?"
They grinned. "You made a huge fuss over it, somethin’ crazy about fruit not being hot"
You laughed, shaking your head. "I was eight!"
Kurt chuckled with everyone else, but his smile faltered for the briefest moment.
He hadn't known that.
It was such a tiny thing. Almost laughably insignificant. Or well it wasn't actually that small, a large number of foods contained warm fruits. Did tomatoes also fall into your peculiar pickiness? It was so impossibly intimate.
As everyone stood to move inside, your ex paused beside you.
"Oh."
Their fingers brushed your shoulder.
"There."
They plucked a piece of white lint from your top.
You didn't even glance up from your conversation with Kurt, watching as his yellow eyes slid from your face to your shoulder, up your ex’s hand to stare into their eyes. A shocked sort of assessing hidden thankfully from his lack of visible pupils.
"Thanks."
"No problem."
The exchange lasted all of two seconds. Less, probably.
Kurt stared at the empty space between you after they'd walked away.
There had been no hesitation, or awkwardness over touching still. When Kurt himself questioned doing anything before explicit permission. Something you said you liked and found charming. But the unconscious familiarity of someone who had done it a hundred times before wasn't something he’d gotten to yet.
He immediately hated himself for noticing, folding his three-fingered hands tighter around yours anyway.
Later, someone started telling old college stories.
Your ex interrupted.
"Wait, wait—tell Kurt about the choir christmas animals."
"Oh, absolutely not."
"You slept on a sheep!"
"I was a kid! Also it was a lamb, get it right"
"You insisted the sheep looked lonely."
"They did! They so did! It wasn't some insane observation, like imagine minding your business and some dude picks you up to show a bunch of singing kids the birth of a cardboard cutout of Jesus"
You had to pause between words before you'd even finished speaking, laughing too hard to keep a straight line on your story.
Not your usual laugh, your eyes watered, and you were coughing on your drink halfway through, and Kurt leaned in to rub your back and soothe you but not before noticing your ex sat forward from their spot to do the same thing.
Halfway through the story, you snorted so unexpectedly you buried your face in your hands.
The entire room erupted.
"So embarrassing," you groaned between giggles.
Kurt laughed too.
God, you looked beautiful.
He realized, with a hollow feeling in his chest, that he'd never heard that loose laugh before, the snorting or how you had clutched on to his arm like your life depended on it.
How many stories had happened before he'd ever met you?
How many versions of you existed only in someone else's memory? Specifically the someone else staring at you from across the couch ready to rub your back and soothe your laughter.
Eventually everyone gathered their things to leave, one of your friends almost tripped over herself to call after you.
"You know..."
She looked between you and your ex.
"I honestly didn't think anyone could replace them."
The room went quiet for half a heartbeat.
Then the friend laughed.
"I meant, until Kurt came along! It's good he’s here, sorry Kurt."
A few people chuckled, and you sighed before giving her a look. Kurt laughed because everyone else was laughing.
Someone thankfully changed the subject, rides and who was carpooling with who, the conversation moved on as you and Kurt left together arm in arm but the words lodged behind his ribs.
Didn't think anyone could replace them.
He wasn't a replacement… he was better for you all around. You’d lamented about how perfect he was while early in your dating.
The mansion was unusually quiet when you returned, most of the lights had already been switched off due to the late time. There might've been a few night owls within the mansion but since it was the school year they were decidedly quiet in order to protect the sleep of the students.
You said a temporary good-bye in order to shower, as much as you loved sharing the bed with Kurt you did also love a long comforting shower, which was not possible with someone waiting to take their turn.
You found Kurt sitting on the windowsill in his room, watching rain tap softly against the glass.
"There you are," you said, slipping off your shoes. "I've been looking everywhere."
He turned with his familiar warm smile.
"There is not much to look at, sternchen."
You crossed the room until you were standing between his knees, and he rested his hands lightly against your waist.
Something was off, he didn't lean his head onto your torso or crane his neck up to smile while staring into your eyes, he looked somewhere past you, shoulders slumped in something more than tiredness.
"You've been quiet."
"I have?"
"...Yes, it's ok if you just want to be quiet but I was worried."
His eyes dropped.
"...I am sorry."
Your brow furrowed.
"Why?"
He hesitated so long you thought he'd changed his mind.
Finally, he spoke so softly you almost missed it.
"How long…," he swallowed "...How long were you together?"
You blinked.
"Together? With my ex?"
He nodded once, the slight tremble in his hands matching his shaking voice. You watched as he opened his mouth then turned away, biting his lip like he hated that he'd asked at all.
"About a year," you answered honestly.
Kurt absorbed that in silence.
"I see."
You reached up, gently tilting his chin until he looked at you again.
"Kurt."
His golden eyes met yours.
"Is that what's been bothering you?"
"I should not be jealous."
His eyes dipped, embarrassed.
"They are kind. They have done nothing wrong, I know. And neither have you."
He let out a small, frustrated laugh.
"I know all of these things, but..."
He searched for words.
"... they speak to you, and I realize there are whole chapters of your life I will never know because... because I was not there."
His voice barely rose above a whisper. "And I wonder,” his voice broke, no sound coming out as he tried to speak, before he withdrew his hands and coughed, ducking his head further into his arms. “I wonder how much of you belongs to a past I can never share."
The fragile confession hung between you, the silence only broken as you shuffled forward and knelt closer until your forehead rested against his.
"No part of me belongs to the past."
His breath caught.
"It made me who I am." you took one of his hands, brushing your thumb against the velveteen fur "But the person standing here..." you laced your fingers with his "... this is the one making new memories, learning new peculiarities, finding new reasons to laugh."
You squeezed gently.
"This version belongs with you."
Kurt closed his eyes.
"...If I never know the old stories?"
You smiled.
"I'll tell them to you, whatever you want to know, and more. A lot more. And someday..." you brushed a kiss against the bridge of his nose. "...you'll know stories no one else does."
His shoulders finally relaxed, the smile that returned was small and wobbly, but showing off his cute fangs, and highlighting his golden eyes, still watery around the edges.
"...I think," he murmured, "I would like that very much."
"You'd better."
You bumped your nose against his.
"Because you're stuck with me."
A quiet laugh escaped him, as he locked his arms under yours and pulled you into bed.
The Human Torch/Johnny Storm
Johnny had expected to hate your ex.
Actually, scratch that.
He'd expected your ex to make it easy to hate them.
Maybe they'd be smug. Maybe they'd still flirt with you. Maybe they'd shake his hand just a little too hard and spend the evening reminiscing about all the wonderful years you spent together.
Johnny had prepared for that.
He had not prepared for... this.
"...Seriously?" Ben muttered around a mouthful of burger. "They're, like... weirdly nice."
"Right?" Johnny whispered back.
Across the table, your ex laughed at something Reed had said before turning to Johnny.
"I've gotta say," they grinned, "I've seen your interviews. You're way funnier in person, those journalists gotta up their game, crazy stiff questions."
Johnny blinked.
"...Thanks?"
"And the stunt you pulled in Manhattan last month?" they continued. "That was insane."
"Oh." Johnny rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, well..."
"You saved a lot of people."
"...Yeah."
"...Huh."
They raised their glass.
"To the Human Torch."
Johnny slowly clinked his soda against it.
"...Thanks?"
What was happening? It keeps getting weirder.
Halfway through lunch, you reached for another fry.
Your ex beat you to it.
Without asking, they plucked one straight off your plate.
You didn't even look up.
"Rude," you muttered, continuing your story.
"You weren't eating it."
"I was getting there."
"Too slow."
Johnny stared.
"...Seriously?"
Three pairs of eyes turned toward him.
"What?"
"You just..." He pointed between the two of you. "They just stole your food."
You frowned, "...Yeah?"
"...They've done that for years?”
"Exactly! Oh my gosh I’ve never been able to keep an order entirely to myself like seriously!"
"I don't understand the issue,” Your ex snorted. "I'll buy them more fries if it's a federal offense."
Ben kicked Johnny lightly under the table.
"Dude."
Johnny sank back into his chair, dramatically slumping his shoulders forward and tucking his chin to his neck.
"...Right."
He sounded unconvinced even to himself.
The afternoon drifted into wandering around the city.
Someone suggested grabbing dessert.
"Ooh!" you perked up. "That little place on Twenty-Third."
Your ex smiled immediately.
"Oh, that place's tiramisu is—"
They stopped.
"...Still good?"
You laughed.
"Probably."
Johnny looked between the two of you.
"You've been there."
"A few times," you admitted.
"It was close to our apartment."
Apartment.
Johnny hadn't actually thought about that part before.
You'd lived together.
Of course you had a favorite restaurant, favorite coffee shops… grocery stores… spots in the park.
He didn’t want tiramisu anymore.
"Actually," he interrupted, a little too brightly, "I know this rooftop place that's way cooler."
Ben gave him a look.
"We're standing five minutes away."
"So?"
"So your place is forty blocks from here."
"Dude I don’t think theres forty blocks in the entire city, it’ll be worth it!"
You smiled apologetically.
"Maybe another day? I've really been craving this place."
Johnny opened his mouth.
Closed it again. The bitter taste was lingering on his tongue even before the coffee dessert.
"...Yeah. Whatever you want babe"
He spent the rest of dinner trying way too hard, challenged a waiter to guess everyone's drink order, and he somehow convinced the table to rank the Fantastic Four by cooking ability.
He lit a birthday candle with his finger for a kid three tables over, standing over there as a birthday surprise until four different people laughed until they cried.
He was on fire. Pun intended.
But that was exactly the problem.
"Johnny." Sue's voice cut through another story he'd started telling.
He looked over. "What?"
She smiled patiently.
"You can relax."
"...I am relaxed."
"You've been up for an hour, sit down."
"I literally run around all day for a living."
"This isn’t what you’re doing for a living though, it’s a nice dinner. With nice company.”
Even Reed looked up from the menu.
"Your vocal volume has increased approximately twenty-three percent."
Johnny groaned.
"Oh, come on. There is no way you know that”
Your ex chuckled.
"They're right."
"Not you too."
"You don't have to impress anybody."
Johnny laughed.
"Who says I'm trying to impress anybody?"
The table went silent.
Every single person looked at him.
"...Um okay."
The night ended outside the restaurant.
Your ex hugged everyone goodbye.
When they got to Johnny, they held out a hand instead.
"It was good meeting you."
Johnny shook it.
"...You too."
They smiled.
"Take care of them."
Johnny nodded.
"I will."
"I know."
Simple.
Sincere.
Then they walked away.
Johnny watched until they disappeared around the corner.
Finally, he turned to you.
"...What the actual fuck?"
You laughed.
"What?"
"They're..."
He gestured vaguely in the direction they'd gone.
"...Normal."
"...Yeah?"
"They're supposed to be terrible."
"They're really not."
"They liked me."
“That’s very easy to do."
"They laughed at my jokes."
"They're good jokes."
"They offered to buy me another drink!"
You crossed your arms, smile breaking out across your face, clearly enjoying this far too much.
"So your complaint is...?"
Johnny threw both hands into the air.
"I don't know!"
He laughed helplessly.
"I was ready to hate them."
"And?"
"They made it impossible."
You slipped your hand into his.
"You know why we broke up?"
Johnny glanced over.
"Why?"
"We loved each other."
His eyebrows shot up.
"...That's not helping."
"But we wanted different lives."
You squeezed his hand.
"We were better as friends than partners."
Johnny looked down at your intertwined fingers.
"So..."
"So."
"They're not secretly trying to steal you back?"
"No."
"They don't still love you?"
"They love me."
"What?"
"But they aren't in love with me."
Johnny was quiet for a moment.
Then, almost sheepishly, he admitted,
"...I spent half of dinner wondering if every place we walked past was somewhere you'd kissed."
Your expression softened.
"Oh, Johnny."
"I know,I know, it's dumb."
"It isn't dumb."
"It kinda is."
You stopped walking, gently tugging him to a halt.
"You know what my favorite restaurant is now?"
He shrugged. Eyes looking somewhere past you, decidedly not making contact with yours.
"The one where you accidentally set the dessert menu on fire."
Johnny grinned despite himself. "Okay that wasn't my fault, open candle next to paper menus was a genius idea I'm sure."
"The owner very much disagreed."
"He was obviously biased."
"And my favorite vacation?"
"The beach?"
"The one where you convinced me seashells could explode."
"They can if you heat them enough."
"My point is,” you stepped closer “you keep worrying about places I used to go,” You rested a hand against his chest, drumming your fingers against the muscle “…but somehow every place we go together becomes my new favorite."
Johnny's grin softened into something quieter, "So..."
"I'm making new memories."
Johnny paused, "With me."
"With you."
He leaned down to steal a quick kiss.
"...Okay."
"What?"
"I still think the love thing is weird."
You laughed.
"I'll let you steal a fry next time."
"Oh?"
"One."
Johnny gasped dramatically.
"Only one?"
"You negotiate like that and I'm taking them all back."
"Now that's my baby. Dating me…me. Yeah I like that."
He slipped an arm around your shoulders as the two of you headed home, already talking over each other about where to get breakfast the next morning.
Deadpool/Wade Wilson
Wade had spent the entire drive over rehearsing for this.
Step one: Be charming.
Step two: If that fails, be funny.
Step three: If that fails, fake your own death.
He'd gotten as far as Step One before the front door opened.
Your ex smiled warmly.
"You must be Wade."
"Depends."
They blinked.
"On?"
"If you're here to collect unpaid parking tickets? No?"
A laugh, genuine and rea.
"Come on in."
...Well. That wasn't supposed to happen.
The evening started surprisingly well. Too well. Your ex wasn't awkward, wasn't territorial, didn't give Wade the once-over or stare at his scarred face.
Didn't ask passive-aggressive questions about his career, his life choices, or the fact that he occasionally got shot for money.
Instead
"I've heard a lot about you." Wade pointed accusingly at you. "You've been talking smack."
"Mostly good things," your ex assured him.
"Mostly?"
"They did mention you tried to make pancakes with a flamethrower."
"...Technically successful."
"They were charcoal." You said, with an exasperated smile.
"They were still pancakes, matter cannot be destroyed."
Your ex laughed so hard they nearly spilled their drink.
Wade frowned. God why were they making this difficult?
Halfway through dinner, someone wandered over from another table.
"Oh!"
He looked between you and your ex.
"I didn't realize you two were hanging out again."
You smiled politely.
"We're just friends."
The stranger looked at Wade.
"...Wait...Oh." Their face lit up with understanding."I honestly thought you two would end up back together someday."
Silence, just for a second. Then he laughed awkwardly.
"But obviously life happens!"
"Yes, very obviously," you echoed.
The conversation drifted elsewhere.
Wade made a joke.
Everyone laughed.
The stranger apologized and eventually left.
No one seemed bothered.
Except Wade.
He compensated. Overly.
"So anyway," he announced far too loudly, "did I ever tell you about the time I accidentally fought Dracula?"
"You've told me three times," you said, "each version gets more dramatic."
"Art evolves, my love!"
Five minutes later he was balancing three breadsticks across his upper lip.
Ten minutes after that he somehow had the waiter judging an imaginary cooking competition between him and Captain America.
By dessert he had half the restaurant watching him attempt card tricks.
One child applauded. Another asked if he worked there.
You buried your face in your hands.
Outside, you bumped his shoulder.
"...You okay?"
"I'm fantastic."
"You challenged a twelve-year-old to an arm wrestling contest."
"He started it."
"He asked if you knew magic."
"I do know magic."
"You pulled a spoon out of your sleeve."
"That spoon wasn't there before, I'm not entirely sure how I did it myself, but a magician never shares secrets."
You stopped walking.
"Wade."
He sighed dramatically. "...Fine. You wanna know what happened?"
"I'd like that."
He shoved his hands into his pockets.
"I got weird."
"I noticed."
"You know that thing where your brain decides to ruin your own evening?"
"...Mm-hmm."
"Mine rented a billboard of every possible thing that could go wrong complete with little red strings and conspiracy theories."
You reached the park before either of you spoke again.
Finally, Wade broke the silence.
"They're..." he searched for the word "...Better."
You frowned, "Better?"
"They're stable."
"Wade—"
"They've got an actual career."
"So do you."
"They sleep normal human hours."
"Sometimes."
"They're..." he laughed once, humorless. "...Their face isn't crazy gnarly, it’s even the good kind of gnarly."
Your chest tightened.
"Wade."
"They're funny."
"You are too."
"They're the kind of person people picture when someone says 'good partner.'" he stared at the sidewalk, scuffing his boot against the concrete. "And then there's me. Prince Charming I know, my jawline could cut glass”
You stepped in front of him before he could keep walking.
"They laughed at every joke you made."
"They were being polite."
"They complimented you."
"They were being polite."
"They thanked you for making me happy."
"...They were..." his voice faltered. "...being polite."
You cupped his face.
"They were telling the truth."
His eyes refused to meet yours.
"That guy looked at you like..." he swallowed. "...Like they couldn't figure out how I happened."
You smiled softly.
"I can."
"Yeah?"
"You walked into my life."
"I literally crashed through your apartment window."
"You paid for the repairs. And you stayed, my Prince Charming”
Wade's shoulders loosened just a little.
"My ex knows me," you continued. "Or, they know who I was."
You brushed your thumb across the scarred skin near his jaw without hesitation.
"But you know who I am now."
He finally looked at you.
"I don't compare you. To anyone- anything. You’re my Wade”
"I know"
"I chose you."
Your voice was steady.
"Not because you're funnier, or more broken, or less broken, or because you beat someone else; I chose you because when I picture the rest of my life..." You smiled. "...you're already in it."
For a long moment, Wade just stared.
Then, quietly—
"...You know..."
"What do I know?"
"I spent the entire dinner convinced you were about to realize you could've done better."
You laughed, not at him, but at how impossible that thought seemed.
"Wade."
"I know."
"No."
You leaned forward until your forehead rested against his.
"You don't."
His breath caught.
"I've already met 'better.'" You kissed him gently "I’m at home with you."
Wade didn’t have his usual quip or joke to break the tension or run from the ticklish feeling behind his eyes, he simply wrapped his arms around you and held on a little tighter than usual.
When he finally spoke, his voice was muffled against your shoulder.
"...I'm still stealing the leftover cheesecake from your fridge."
You smiled into his hair.
"I bought that for you."
"...Oh."
A beat.
"...Can I still pretend I stole it?"
"Of course, you have a reputation to uphold."
"There they are," he murmured, his grin returning. "My questionable life choices."
You rolled your eyes fondly, lacing your fingers with his as you started walking again.
The billboard in his head was finally dark. The only voice left was yours(and the narrator), and it was enough.
