#‘this wolverine let his world down’ ‘I don’t know how to save worlds but you do’

[paper-lilypie]

DEADPOOL AND WOLVERINE TRAILER NOBODY FUCKING TOUCH ME OH MY GOD

[theemissuniverse]

“WATCH YOURSELF” - DEADPOOL X GRUMPY FEM!READER

Summary : Despite your love/hate relationship with Deadpool, you won’t tolerate anyone talking bad on him. No matter how annoying he is. (Your power is being lucky, super strength, and you’re great in combat. You have a slow healing ability too. Yes I know being Lucky is Dominos thing. Shush.)

Warnings : none? Besides well, he’s Deadpool

You were beyond annoyed when you were pulled into this disaster of an adventure with one of the most annoying people on the planet but after Wade had explained to you why he dragged you in, your animosity started to die down.

While Wade, who you always referred to as “Deadpool”, liked you, admired you, and even flirted with you, you always made it clear that he irritated you. That all his quips, lines, and forth wall breaking were all getting at your wits end.

Throughout time, he had actually started to grow on you a little and you were even starting to tolerate him. He wasn’t bad. At least not as bad as you thought he was.

You weren’t the only person he dragged, he dragged Wolverine into the party and now it was up to you three to save yours and Wade’s timeline.

What Logan didn’t know was that he wasn’t getting anything out of this. At least you weren’t exactly sure but Wade told you to keep in under wraps and well, you did.

It’s just Wade didn’t seem to remember it.

The three of you were in the car with Logan driving and Wade in the passenger seat. You were in the backseat.

Wade groaned in agony as Logan’s claws dug into his thigh. “I didn’t lie! I made an educated wish!”

The statement made you look at Wade like he was an idiot and you shook your head at how ridiculous he could be.

Logan looked at him the same but only more heated. “Did you say you made an educated…fucking…wish?”

The tension wasn’t dying at all and you rubbed your temple in annoyance as Wade just kept on talking. So much so that it pissed Logan off. “You know what you’re a fucking joke.” He said to him, putting his fist down from the air. “No wonder the avengers didn’t take you or the X-Men, or hell fucking anyone.”

You knew Logan was harsh and you knew a lot of things didn’t get to Wade but you know that was going to. Logan wasn’t done though. He kept going. “I mean you are ridiculous, immature, half witt moron. I have never met a sadder, more attention starved, jabbering little prick in my entire life and that says a lot because I’ve been alive for more than two hundred fucking years, and I’ll tell you that bald chick was right about one thing.”

“You will never save the world. You couldn’t even save a relationship with a goddamn stripper! And motherfucker I wish you could say you die alone but it’s one of god’s best jokes that you can’t die, except it’s on all of us!”

Your eyes widen at everything Logan said. You turned to see Wade’s reaction, expecting a snippy comment but none comes out. He’s silent.

You can’t really see his facial expressions because of the mask but with his head down, you could tell that he was upset. By everything Wolverine said.

You’ve known Wade for the longest and even though he could be too much Deadpool, he was still Wade. The same Wade that adored you, the same Wade that had your back. And the same Wade that would never let anyone talk to you like that.

Looking at Logan, you gave him a harsh glare. “I’m going to fight you now.”

Logan laughed while snorting as if he couldn’t believe you would fight him over him insulting Wade. Especially because around him you acted like you couldn’t stand him. He looked in the back seat where you sat at. “Oh are you?”

You immediately punched him in the face which made his nose bleed. You took the seatbelt that was connected to his seat and stabbed him right in the shoulder with the buckle. He groaned in pain. You proceeded to throw him out of the car.

Wade looked at you in shock. You stepped out of the car and walked over to Logan who got up from the ground quickly.

“You don’t want to do this.” Logan said more so as a warning.

“You’re right, I don’t.” You copied Wade’s words from his interaction with Wolverine before and took out your gun that was in pocket. You proceeded to shoot him and the bullets went through his chest.

He held his chest while glaring at you. The bullets started to come out of him and he instinctively charged at you.

With your luck, you moved out of the way and kicked him down. You went to punch him in the face but he pulled you down.

Wolverine took out his claws and tried to get you in the gut but you rolled away from the impact. On the ground, you wrapped both your legs around his neck and flipped him over so he was laying on his back.

You took out your other gun and shot into his stomach where his intestines were and he screamed. You could tell he was getting frustrated that he could barely land a hit because of your luck.

Wade couldn’t believe you were actually fighting Wolverine. His first thought was, why? Did you do it for him? Or because you were genuinely just sick of him? Wade looks at the reader. “I think I should stop this…but she’s so hot when she gets like that.”

Logan finally kicked you off. Your luck was starting to run out. He picked you up by your neck, choking you with his left hand and his claw had went into your stomach. You screamed in agony.

Wade looked back at the fight and now was going to kick his ass. “Alright, here we go.” He steps out of the car. Then reaches for his small knife in his boot. He casually walks over to Logan. “Baby knife.” He says in a small whisper before stabbing it in Logan’s abdomen.

It hurts him but doesn’t seem to make him let you go. Wade punches him in the face which finally makes Logan release you. He gets knocked to the ground.

Wade knows you can handle yourself but it doesn’t make him worry any less. Unlike him, your healing abilities were slow and just because you were lucky didn’t mean you couldn’t die. “You okay, Buffy?”

You shot him a look, rubbing your neck to release the tension you felt from your neck. “Buffy slayed vampires.”

“Tomato, apple.” Deadpool says as if the information you provided really mattered.

You saw Logan get up and it made you stand to your feet. Wade shook his head. “Nah. How bout you take five? I can’t let you have all the fun.”

Immediately, Logan charged into Wade and they flew into the car. You shook your head at the two fighting, deciding to call it quits. Then walked away so you could get some fresh air and your wounds could heal properly.

Something was bugging you. Why did you do that for Wade? He was extremely annoying but yet, it bothered you when you saw him upset. Maybe it was because that was the first time you saw him genuinely upset.

You sat on the big rock, looking at the waterfall. It was nearly night. You just needed to clear your mind without all the men blocking your inner thoughts.

You wouldn’t get much peace though as you heard Wade walking up towards you. You knew it was him because you recognized his footsteps. You still looked at him to confirm.

When you did, you saw his suit all bloodied and even a little tear in the suit itself. But other than that, he looked fine. He was a professional mercenary after all. He could handle himself.

Wade sits on the rock next to you. “I take it back. The Honda Odyssey fucks hard.” He exasperated while rolling his neck slightly.

You didn’t comment. He turned to look at you and noticed the bruise on your neck hadn’t healed yet. “Jesus your powers are shit.” His gloved hand came up to examine your neck more. You allowed him.

Again, with the mask on, you couldn’t really make out the best of facial expressions but you could tell he was worried. “Who knew your luck would run out with Wolvy?”

You chuckled a little at his comment before looking back at the waterfall. “I know right? Didn’t think he’d actually beat me.”

“Nah. He didn’t beat you.” He raised his hand down. Then looked at your shirt that was bloodied.

You looked to where his eyes were looking. Then shook your head. You lifted your shirt up to reveal that the gash that Logan gave you was almost healed. “I’m fine.” You let go of the shirt. “Not everyone’s got super healing powers like you.”

Deadpool nodded at this. “Yeah. I am pretty great.”

You rolled your eyes slightly. The two of you sat in silence for a minute which was strange considering who you were sitting next to. You wondered if he was still hurt about what Logan said.

Far from that. Wade, for the first time, was in deep thought and wasn’t monologuing it. You defended him and usually, he wouldn’t question stuff like that but it wasn’t in your nature to do that, for anyone. You didn’t care for things like that and just did what you called, “minding one’s business.”

You could tell that he was itching to say something and you were questioning why he was taking so long to say it. “Out with it. I can’t take your silence anymore.”

He knew you liked when he rambled even though you didn’t like to admit it. “I’m just wondering, cupcake.”

“Wondering what?”

“Why you decided to fight him? I’m still not getting that.”

The question he asked made you pause. You still didn’t even know why you did it. How were you supposed to answer that?

The deep part of your subconscious knew though. You liked him. You just didn’t want to admit it. “I don’t know.” You said. “He’s annoying.”

“Yeah. Well, I could take that if maybe he did something annoying but-“

“I’m starting to regret letting you talk.”

Wade ignored you and continued. “He was talking to me. Insulting me. And that’s when you fought him.” He spoke out loud putting the puzzle pieces together. And that’s when he gasped.

You looked back at him when he gasped. “What?”

He hit your shoulder playfully. “You like me.”

The way he said it was like he was a third grader on the playground. It annoyed you. Especially because that’s not why. Or at least, that’s what you thought. “What? Are you kidding me? Me? Like you? Are you sure Logan didn’t hit you too hard in the head back there?”

Wade ignored your denial and kept going. “Denial. One of the first huge steps to getting towards acceptance.”

With that, you stood up from the rock and towered over Wade. “Wade, if you don’t shut up, I’m going to kick your ass.”

Wade stood up with you and because he was taller than you, he towered over you. “Go ahead. But you know I’m only gonna get turned on by it right?”

You crossed your arms, glaring at the man child. “Okay? So I fought him because he was talking shit? So what?”

“Not to be on his side but…I did lie.”

“You didn’t lie.” You told him. “You made an educated wish.”

You regretted saying that because the moment you did, you could tell Wade was smiling under his mask. “Oh come on and just kiss me already.” He went to grab at your hips to pull you into one but you pushed him away.

“Ugh. I can’t stand you.” You went to walk away but Deadpool followed right behind you. He took his left hand and interlocked his fingers with your left.

“So where are we going on our first date? I would do all the heavy lifting but you’re kinda a control freak though so…”

You groaned in frustration but allowed Wade to hold your hand.

I guess you were dating him now?

[wchswift]

hii hii HEHEHEH this is so brain rot but i need a story where logan is a big time cuddler (i know he gives the best hug ever 😭) maybe he keeps that only to reader!!

ଓ IN HIS ARMS

pairing: logan howlett x reader

summary: logan is a big time cuddler, but he saves all his tender, comforting affection just for you.

word count: 1.3k

content: fluff, established relationship, implied sex, post-sex cuddles.

a/n: hiii, sorry it took me so long to write it 😭 I may have changed a little from what you asked, but I hope you like it <3

── english isn't my first language :)

Everyone around the mansion was well aware of Logan's grumpy reputation. He was the gruff one, all hard edges, and sharp looks, the not-friendly and indifferent expression to keep people not so close. To most, he's the Wolverine—reserved, intimidating, and always prefers little interaction. But of course, he had his exceptions, like you. You knew better.

Because behind closed doors, Logan was yours, and he’s the most touch-hungry man you've ever met. You know the man beneath the scowl who would hold you close until the rest of the world disappeared if he could. Deep down, he was the type who wouldn’t readily admit it, but he absolutely adored cuddling.

No one would believe it if you told them, but Logan is the best cuddler in the world. There’s something about the way he wraps his arms around you, how his broad chest and strong shoulders make you feel so small and completely safe. It’s like being surrounded by pure strength, and yet it’s soft, too—his touch careful, deliberate, filled with a tenderness that only you get to see. God this man knew how to hug.

Right now, his arms are wrapped around you as you settle against his chest, his warmth seeping into you like the coziest blanket. The room is quiet except for the soft hum of life outside and the sound of his steady breathing. Nights like this—peaceful, undisturbed—are your favorite.

You let out a contented sigh, your head resting against the solid strength of his chest. His heartbeat thumps steadily beneath your ear, soothing and grounding in a way only Logan can manage.

“You comfy, princess?” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

“Mm-hmm,” you hum softly, snuggling closer.

Logan’s hand drifts lazily up and down your back, tracing slow, soothing circles. He’s always touching you like this, his hands finding you almost instinctively, whether it’s to ground himself or to comfort you. Maybe it’s both.

“You’ve got the best hugs,” you murmur, your voice muffled against his chest.

Logan chuckles softly, the sound a deep, rumbling vibration against your cheek. “Yeah? Don’t tell anyone. Gotta keep my image intact.”

You laugh lightly, shifting to look up at him. His lips quirked in a rare smile, the kind only you ever see. Before you can say anything else, he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, lingering there like he’s savoring the moment.

Logan doesn’t say it, but you know this side of him—the warmth, the tenderness, the way he holds you like you’re the most important thing in the world—is something he reserves only for you. Around the others, he’s all scowls and clipped words, but in private, he’s the kind of man who craves touch like it’s air.

He didn’t always show it, though. Logan wasn’t the kind of man to give away pieces of himself so easily. It took a while to get that part of him. You vividly remember the first time he hugged you like this, back when he still had walls up, back when you weren’t sure what you meant to him.

You’d been having a rough day—a hard mission that made you doubt yourself, leaving you shaken and overwhelmed. You tried to hide it from everyone, retreating to the quiet safety of your room. But Logan noticed. He always noticed.

Without a word, he appeared in your doorway, his expression softer than usual but still guarded.

“You okay?” he asked, voice low and gravelly.

At first, you nodded, trying to brush it off, but when he stepped closer and gently touched your arm, the dam broke. You let out a shaky breath, your eyes stinging, and before you could stop yourself, you leaned into him.

For a second, you thought he’d pull away—this was Logan, after all. But instead, his arms came around you, steady and sure, pulling you against him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

That was the first time you felt the magic of the Wolverine hug. His hold was strong but not overwhelming like he was shielding you from everything bad in the world. His hand ran soothingly up and down your back, his chin resting lightly on top of your head.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble in your ear. “I’ve got you.”

And he did. From that moment on, you realized that Logan wasn’t just a good hugger—he was the best. There was something about the way he held you like he could take all your worries and crush them with his strength. He didn’t need to say much; his arms said it all.

Now, it’s second nature. He doesn’t wait for an excuse to hold you—he pulls you into his lap while you’re reading, tangles himself around you when you’re in bed, and presses his face into your hair after a long day. His hands are always on you, whether it’s a comforting palm against your back, his fingers laced with yours, or his arm slung around your waist like he needs to keep you close. And you dare to say he loves it more than you.

After the sex, he’s especially clingy—not that you mind. Pulling you into his arms as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear, he will wrap himself around you completely. His lips leave lazy, soft, lingering open-mouthed kisses to your shoulder, hair, collarbone, cheek—anywhere he can reach. Each one feels like a promise, a reminder that you’re his. He let his hands roam lazily, tracing patterns on your skin like he’s memorizing every inch of you.

“You feel so damn good, princess” he’ll whisper, his voice rough but tender. And the way he holds you in those moments like he never wants to let go, makes you feel like you’re the center of his universe.

And the way he looks at you in those moments? It’s enough to make your heart stop. His usual sharp, guarded gaze softens, filled with a quiet devotion he doesn’t show to anyone else.

Around the others, he’s all grumbles and scowls, pretending he’s not the same man who just kissed you senselessly an hour ago. He keeps his distance—at least, as much as he can.

Even in public, though, there are cracks in his armor. His hand will brush yours under the table or he’ll rest his palm on your thigh. Sometimes, when he thinks no one’s paying attention, you’ll catch him watching you with an intensity that makes your heart race.

The others might tease him for being overprotective, for always keeping an eye on you, but they don’t see the real Logan. They don’t see how he softens when he holds you or how he presses his forehead against yours like you’re the thing that saved him.

“Love you,” he murmurs now, his lips brushing against your hair. His voice is quiet like he’s not ready to say it too loudly, but the words hit you like a warm rush all the same.

You tilt your head up to meet his gaze, those dark, stormy eyes soft in the dim light. “Love you too,” you whisper, brushing a kiss against his jaw before settling back into his arms.

Logan presses another kiss to the top of your head, his hand slipping under the blanket to pull you closer. He holds you like you’re his anchor, his steady presence in a chaotic world.

And as you drift off in his arms, surrounded by his warmth and strength, the rest of the world feels small and far away—because with Logan, you’re home.

𖤐 reblogs and feedback are appreciated! requests are also welcome, ty!

[urdreamydoodles]

how about scott, logan, colossus, jean, storm, hank, and wanda with a wild child reader, this is a kid who doesn’t know the meaning of structure or discipline. They are the epitome of skateboarder who live in a basement who survives on nothing but greasy new york pizza( they eat nothing but junk food and take out) . A kid who is constantly coming home bruised and bleeding from wild stunts. Its not even they’re fault they have the kind of neglectful parents that are like i dont care what you do as long as you don't bother me, so they chose to have absolute freedom

X-Men x Child!Reader

You are a wild kid due to your parents' neglect

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Ororo Munroe, Colossus, Hank McCoy, Erik Lehnsherr, Wanda Maximoff

Logan Howlett aka. Wolverine

- You first meet Logan when he pulls you out of a scuffle in a dingy alley, your knuckles bloodied from throwing punches at a group of older kids who deserved it for being jerks. His gruff voice cuts through the tension, "What the hell are you doin', kid?" You shrug, brushing past him like he’s just another stranger trying to lecture you. But Logan isn’t just anyone, and the next time he catches you doing something reckless—trying to ride your skateboard off a railing—you realize you’re not shaking him off so easily.

- Logan quickly learns that you’re a wild spirit, one who doesn’t know when to stop. Your bruises and scratches only fuel his frustration. “You think you’re indestructible, huh?” he growls after dragging you to the mansion with your arm in a makeshift sling. “Guess what? You ain’t.” His tough love feels invasive at first, but there’s a strange warmth to it. Maybe because, deep down, you can tell he actually cares, unlike anyone else in your life.

- Despite his grumbling, Logan becomes your shadow. He’s there when you wipe out attempting a trick and nearly break your ankle. He’s the one hauling you to Hank for first aid when you stumble back to the mansion with a bloody nose. "One of these days, you're gonna kill yourself, and I ain’t buryin' a kid," he grumbles, but his actions betray his words. The way he watches you so intently, like he’s trying to figure you out, makes you feel… seen.

- One day, after Logan drags you out of another scrape, you snap. “Why do you even care?!” you yell, your voice cracking. “You don’t know what it’s like to not have anyone!” Logan’s face hardens, and for a moment, you think you’ve hit a nerve. “You’re wrong, kid,” he says, his tone unusually soft. Later, you overhear him talking to Charles about you. "They remind me of me. Don’t know how to stop fightin’ ‘cause they never had anyone to fight for ‘em."

- Logan starts teaching you how to channel your energy into something productive. “If you’re gonna take risks, at least do it smart,” he grunts, handing you a pair of gloves to protect your hands. He shows you how to defend yourself properly, how to pick your battles. It’s not just about fighting—it’s about self-control, something he knows all too well. And while you hate admitting it, his lessons actually stick.

- The breakthrough comes when you stumble into his room late at night, tears streaming down your face after a nightmare. You hate showing weakness, but Logan doesn’t push. He just sits with you, his presence steady and grounding. “You’re not alone, kid,” he says quietly. “Not anymore.” It’s the first time you realize that maybe, just maybe, you have someone in your corner.

- Over time, you start seeing Logan as more than the grumpy guy who keeps saving your ass. He’s your protector, your mentor, your family. When he gruffly hands you a plate of food during a mansion barbecue and tells you to “eat somethin’ that ain’t junk,” you laugh. He rolls his eyes but doesn’t hide the small smirk tugging at his lips. You’re still a wild child, but now you’ve got someone who understands—and who won’t let you face the world alone.

Remy LeBeau aka. Gambit

- You meet Remy when you’re caught sneaking onto the mansion grounds, trying to pull off some ridiculous stunt involving fireworks and a ramp. Instead of ratting you out, he smirks, intrigued by your audacity. “You got guts, kid,” he says, his Cajun accent dripping with charm. “But guts won’t save you from bein’ stupid.” He’s more amused than annoyed, but you get the feeling he’s watching you now—and not just because you nearly burned the lawn down.

- Remy quickly picks up on your chaotic energy and reckless behavior. “You remind me of a younger me,” he teases, tossing a playing card between his fingers. “All fire, no plan.” At first, you think he’s mocking you, but there’s a glint in his eye that suggests he gets it. He sees through your bravado, recognizing the pain you’re trying to bury under all your stunts and defiance.

- Unlike Logan, Remy doesn’t try to stop you outright. Instead, he plays along, meeting you where you’re at. He even joins you in some of your escapades, though he always makes sure to keep things from getting too out of hand. “If you gonna be crazy, at least do it with style,” he says, flipping his trench coat dramatically as he guides you away from trouble.

- One day, after you’ve crashed spectacularly and are nursing a busted knee, Remy sits beside you with an uncharacteristically serious expression. “You don’t gotta live like dis, y’know,” he says softly. “Runnin’ wild ain’t freedom—it’s just a way to hide.” His words hit harder than you’d like to admit, and for the first time, you let yourself wonder if he might be right.

- Remy starts teaching you his tricks—not just the flashy card stuff, but how to think ahead, how to read people, how to stay one step ahead of the chaos. “Life’s a game, cher,” he says, his voice light but his gaze sharp. “And you gotta learn how to play it.” You soak up his lessons, not realizing until later that he’s been guiding you toward something more stable all along.

- The turning point comes when you call Remy late one night, scared and unsure after a particularly bad fight with your parents. He doesn’t hesitate, showing up within minutes and whisking you away to his favorite rooftop hideout. “Ain’t no shame in needin’ help, kid,” he says, his tone uncharacteristically gentle. For the first time, you let yourself lean on someone else.

- Remy becomes your anchor, your partner in crime, and your found family all rolled into one. He still teases you endlessly, but there’s a warmth to it now, a sense of belonging you’ve never had before. And when he hands you a deck of cards and says, “You’re one of us now,” you know he means it.

Kurt Wagner aka. Nightcrawler

- You meet Kurt when he teleports into the middle of one of your stunts, startling you so badly you nearly fall off the scaffolding you’d been climbing. “Mein Gott, what are you doing up here?” he exclaims, grabbing you before you can tumble to the ground. Despite your protests, he doesn’t let go until you’re safely on solid ground. “You are going to give me a heart attack!”

- Kurt is immediately concerned by your recklessness, but his approach is softer than the others. “Why do you put yourself in such danger, mein freund?” he asks, his golden eyes full of genuine worry. You brush him off at first, but his kindness is disarming. He doesn’t scold you; he just wants to understand.

- It doesn’t take long for Kurt to realize that your behavior stems from more than just a thirst for adrenaline. When you accidentally let slip a comment about your neglectful parents, he connects the dots. “No one should feel like they have to fend for themselves,” he says quietly. His words linger, echoing in your mind long after he’s gone.

- Kurt becomes a constant presence in your life, always ready with a kind word or a helping hand. He patches you up after your latest mishap, his touch gentle as he bandages your scraped knees. “You have so much potential,” he tells you, his tone earnest. “Do not waste it on proving yourself to people who do not care.” His faith in you is both comforting and terrifying.

- He introduces you to the quiet joys of his world—stargazing from the mansion’s roof, reading old adventure novels, sharing stories from his travels. Slowly, you begin to see that life doesn’t have to be a constant whirlwind of chaos. There’s beauty in stillness, too, and Kurt shows you how to find it.

- The breakthrough comes during a particularly bad night when you show up at his door, trembling and unsure how to explain the weight you’re carrying. Kurt doesn’t push; he simply listens, his quiet empathy wrapping around you like a warm embrace. “You are not alone,” he says softly. “And you never will be, as long as I am here.”

- Over time, Kurt becomes more than just a mentor—he’s your family. His unwavering belief in you helps you believe in yourself, and his gentle guidance gives you the strength to start healing. When he tells you, “You are like a sibling to me,” you feel a warmth you’ve never known before.

Scott Summers aka. Cyclops

- You meet Scott after he catches you skateboarding through the mansion’s hallways, narrowly avoiding a collision with Jean. “What do you think you’re doing?!” he demands, his tone sharp. You roll your eyes, unimpressed by his authority, but Scott doesn’t back down. “This isn’t a playground,” he says firmly. “If you’re going to be here, you need to follow the rules.”

- Scott’s strict demeanor grates on you, and you go out of your way to push his buttons. Every time he tells you to stop doing something, you double down, your defiance fueling his frustration. “You can’t just do whatever you want,” he says one day, his voice rising. “This isn’t about control—it’s about keeping you safe!”

- Despite his exasperation, Scott can’t help but worry about you. He starts noticing the bruises, the late-night returns, the way you flinch whenever someone mentions your parents. “Is everything okay at home?” he asks gently, his concern breaking through his usual stoicism. You brush him off, but his question lingers in your mind.

- Scott eventually realizes that his strict approach isn’t working, so he tries a different tactic. He starts showing up at the skate park, watching from a distance as you pull off tricks. “You’ve got talent,” he admits grudgingly. “But talent doesn’t mean much if you don’t take care of yourself.” His rare praise catches you off guard, and you start seeing him in a new light.

- He begins mentoring you, teaching you the value of discipline and structure. “It’s not about following orders,” he explains. “It’s about having a plan, knowing what you’re fighting for.” His lessons are tough, but they resonate, and you find yourself striving to meet his expectations—not because you have to, but because you want to.

- The turning point comes when Scott finds you sitting alone in the mansion’s garden, your usual bravado stripped away. “I don’t know how to fix this,” you admit, your voice shaking. Scott sits beside you, his presence steady and reassuring. “You don’t have to do it alone,” he says quietly. “We’re here for you—I’m here for you.”

- Scott becomes a pillar in your life, someone you can rely on no matter what. His unwavering support gives you the strength to face your demons, and his belief in you helps you start believing in yourself. When he calls you “family,” it’s the first time the word feels real, and you know you’ve finally found a place where you belong.

Jean Grey aka. Marvel Girl / Phoenix

- You meet Jean when you crash into her during a particularly reckless skateboard trick, nearly sending her coffee flying. She catches it with her telekinesis, raising an eyebrow as she looks you over. “Impressive landing,” she says dryly. “But maybe next time, try not to take me out with you.” Her calm demeanor throws you off, but you can’t help noticing the faint amusement in her smile.

- Jean quickly picks up on your chaotic nature—not just from your antics, but because your mind is loud, a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions that practically scream for attention. “You don’t have to prove anything to anyone,” she tells you one day after catching you sneaking out for another dangerous stunt. Her words linger, even if you act like they don’t matter.

- She doesn’t confront you as directly as others might, but her presence is constant. She starts showing up in subtle ways—inviting you to sit with her during meals, offering to help patch you up after a bad fall, or simply listening when you’re too tired to pretend everything’s fine. Jean has a knack for making you feel seen, even when you’re trying to disappear into the noise.

- One day, after you’ve come home battered and bruised yet again, Jean corners you in the kitchen. “Why are you doing this to yourself?” she asks, her voice gentle but firm. When you try to brush her off, she places a hand on yours. “I know what it’s like to feel out of control. But there are other ways to find freedom.” Her sincerity cracks something open in you, though you’re not ready to admit it yet.

- Jean begins introducing you to meditation, something you initially laugh off as “not your thing.” But when she guides you through it, her voice soft and steady, you find a surprising sense of peace. “Chaos doesn’t define you,” she says one evening. “You can still be yourself without destroying yourself.” Her unwavering belief in you starts to shift how you see yourself.

- The turning point comes when Jean catches you breaking down after a particularly bad day. You try to push her away, but she doesn’t let you. “You’re allowed to feel this way,” she says, her arms wrapping around you in a warm embrace. “But you don’t have to face it alone.” For the first time, you let yourself cry in front of someone, and her compassion feels like a lifeline.

- Jean becomes your safe haven, the person who reminds you that strength doesn’t always mean pushing through the pain. She helps you channel your energy into healthier outlets, guiding you with patience and understanding. When she calls you “family,” it feels like coming home, and you know you’ve found someone who will always have your back.

Ororo Munroe aka. Storm

- You meet Storm during a thunderstorm, when you’re out pulling stunts despite the pouring rain. She appears seemingly out of nowhere, her white hair glowing against the dark sky. “What are you doing out here?” she asks, her voice calm but commanding. When you shrug and say something about “living life to the fullest,” she shakes her head. “This isn’t living. This is tempting fate.”

- Ororo is both fascinated and concerned by your recklessness. She sees your wild spirit but also senses the pain behind it. “The storm inside you is powerful,” she says one day, her gaze piercing. “But if you do not learn to guide it, it will consume you.” Her words stick with you, even if you pretend not to care.

- Unlike others, Ororo doesn’t try to control you. Instead, she shows you the beauty of balance. She takes you on walks through nature, pointing out how even the fiercest storms have purpose and harmony. “Freedom isn’t chaos,” she says gently. “It’s understanding your power and using it wisely.” Her wisdom challenges your worldview in ways you don’t expect.

- After one particularly dangerous stunt leaves you with a sprained ankle, Ororo carries you back to the mansion without a word. Later, as she wraps your foot with care, she looks at you with a mix of sternness and compassion. “Why do you punish yourself like this?” she asks softly. You have no answer, but the question lingers.

- Storm begins teaching you control—not through force, but through patience. She encourages you to embrace your passions without letting them rule you. She even takes you flying with her, the wind carrying you both as she shows you what true freedom feels like. “You are not a prisoner of your past,” she says one evening. “You can create your own path.”

- The breakthrough comes during a quiet moment in the mansion garden, where you admit that your recklessness comes from a place of pain and neglect. Ororo listens without judgment, her presence as steady as the earth beneath your feet. “You are stronger than you realize,” she says, her voice full of conviction. “And you are not alone in this.”

- Over time, Ororo becomes your guide and your family. Her unwavering belief in you helps you find balance in your life, and her calm strength inspires you to grow. When she calls you “child of the storm,” it’s not just a nickname—it’s a reminder that you’ve found a place where you truly belong.

Piotr Rasputin aka. Colossus

- You meet Piotr after crashing into him—literally. Your skateboard ricochets off his metal form, leaving you sprawled on the ground. “Are you alright?” he asks, his deep voice filled with concern. When you laugh it off, he frowns. “You should be more careful. Your life is not something to take lightly.”

- Piotr is immediately struck by your wild energy, but instead of chastising you, he approaches you with gentle curiosity. “Why do you live this way?” he asks one day, his steel-blue eyes sincere. When you deflect with a joke, he doesn’t press, but his quiet concern stays with you.

- Despite his towering form, Piotr is surprisingly soft-spoken and kind. He starts looking out for you in small ways—offering to carry your gear, fixing your skateboard when it breaks, even cooking meals for you when he notices you survive on junk food. “You must take care of your body,” he says with a small smile. “It is the only one you have.”

- One evening, after a particularly reckless stunt leaves you limping back to the mansion, Piotr sits you down and talks about his own struggles with responsibility and self-worth. “I know what it is like to feel lost,” he says quietly. “But pain does not have to define you.” His words are simple but powerful, and they linger in your mind.

- Piotr begins teaching you art as a way to channel your energy. At first, you scoff at the idea of painting, but his patience wins you over. “Art is not about perfection,” he says, guiding your hand. “It is about expression.” Slowly, you find yourself drawn to the calmness it brings, a stark contrast to your usual chaos.

- The turning point comes when you confide in Piotr about your neglectful parents. He listens without interruption, his steady presence grounding you. “You deserve better,” he says firmly. “And you are not alone anymore.” His unwavering support feels like a lifeline, and for the first time, you let yourself believe in the possibility of a better future.

- Piotr becomes a constant source of strength and stability in your life. His quiet kindness helps you find balance, and his belief in you gives you the courage to grow. When he calls you “family,” it feels like a promise—a reminder that you’ll never have to face the world alone again.

Hank McCoy aka. Beast

- Your first encounter with Hank is in his lab, where you crash into a shelf of equipment while trying to skateboard through the mansion hallways. He looks up from his work, unamused, as you sheepishly pick up a beaker. “Fascinating,” he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “An experiment in chaos.” You expect him to yell, but instead, he studies you with quiet curiosity, his sharp intellect already dissecting your motives.

- Hank is both intrigued and exasperated by your lack of structure. “Do you understand the repercussions of your actions?” he asks when you try to sneak off with a bag of chips for dinner instead of eating a proper meal. His lectures are long and full of big words, but somewhere in the middle, you catch a hint of genuine concern.

- He starts observing your behavior more closely, not as a judgment but as a puzzle to solve. “You remind me of entropy,” he says one day, his voice surprisingly gentle. “Chaotic, unpredictable, but not without purpose.” Despite his logical approach, there’s warmth in the way he speaks to you, like he’s trying to understand rather than condemn.

- After finding you late at night in the kitchen, rummaging for junk food with a fresh set of scrapes and bruises, Hank decides to intervene. “Your body is a machine, and you’re running it into the ground,” he says, handing you a plate of something surprisingly healthy. When you grumble about his nagging, he smiles. “Consider it an experiment in self-preservation.”

- Hank starts introducing structure into your life in small, unobtrusive ways—inviting you to join him in the lab, teaching you how to fix your skateboard, and even sneaking vegetables into your meals. You find yourself drawn to his calm and steady presence, even if you won’t admit it out loud.

- One day, after a particularly reckless stunt leaves you with a sprained wrist, you break down and confess the truth about your home life. Hank listens intently, his usual verbosity giving way to silence as he processes your words. “You are not a failed experiment,” he says firmly. “You are a work in progress, and I intend to see you thrive.”

- Over time, Hank becomes your anchor, the person who helps you find balance between chaos and order. His guidance isn’t just about rules—it’s about helping you see your own potential. When he calls you “family,” it feels like the culmination of every moment he spent believing in you, even when you couldn’t believe in yourself.

Erik Lehnsherr aka. Magneto

- You meet Erik when you’re caught trespassing near one of his hideouts, attempting a trick off a rail. He steps out of the shadows, his imposing figure stopping you in your tracks. “You’ve got nerve,” he says, his voice cold and calculating. You expect him to throw you out, but instead, he watches you with a strange mix of curiosity and disdain.

- Erik is fascinated by your wild energy, though he would never admit it. “You remind me of my youth,” he says one day, his tone sharp. “Defiant, reckless, and utterly unafraid of consequences.” His words sting, but there’s something in his gaze—a flicker of understanding—that makes you pause.

- He doesn’t tolerate your antics, but he doesn’t outright condemn them either. Instead, he challenges you, questioning your choices in a way that forces you to reflect. “What are you running from?” he asks bluntly after catching you sneaking out again. His directness catches you off guard, and for once, you don’t have a snarky reply.

- Erik’s approach to helping you is harsh but effective. He doesn’t coddle or comfort—instead, he teaches you the value of strength and self-reliance. “The world will not be kind to you,” he says, his voice heavy with experience. “But that does not mean you must surrender to it.” His lessons are tough, but they resonate deeply.

- Despite his stern demeanor, Erik has moments of surprising gentleness. He notices your injuries, your exhaustion, your deflections, and though he doesn’t press, he makes it clear that he sees you. “Pain is a powerful motivator,” he says one evening. “But it does not have to define you.”

- The turning point comes when you break down after a particularly bad day, your defenses finally shattering. Erik doesn’t offer empty comfort—instead, he shares his own struggles, his own pain. “You are stronger than your circumstances,” he says quietly. “And you are not as alone as you think.”

- Erik becomes an unexpected source of stability in your life. His belief in your strength pushes you to grow, while his rare moments of kindness remind you that even the toughest exteriors can hide a compassionate heart. When he finally calls you “family,” it feels like the highest honor, a testament to the bond you’ve built through fire and resilience.

Wanda Maximoff aka. The Scarlet Witch

- You meet Wanda when you accidentally skate into one of her magical runes, disrupting a spell she was casting. She turns to you, her red eyes glowing faintly. “You shouldn’t be here,” she says, her voice laced with warning. But instead of scolding you, she tilts her head, curious. “Why are you always running?”

- Wanda is both drawn to and exasperated by your chaotic nature. “You remind me of Pietro,” she says one day, her voice tinged with sadness. “Always moving, never stopping to think about the consequences.” Her words cut deeper than you expect, leaving you to wonder why her disappointment stings so much.

- Unlike others, Wanda doesn’t try to impose structure on you. Instead, she meets you where you are, offering understanding without judgment. She starts leaving little charms around the mansion—spells to protect you from injury or to heal your bruises. “You may not care about yourself,” she says softly, “but I do.”

- One night, after returning home with a fresh set of cuts and scrapes, you find Wanda waiting for you. “You don’t have to do this alone,” she says, her voice gentle but firm. When you try to brush her off, she touches your hand, and for a moment, you feel the warmth of her magic easing your pain.

- Wanda starts teaching you small spells—little enchantments to protect yourself or to calm your restless mind. At first, you’re skeptical, but her patience and quiet encouragement win you over. “Magic isn’t about control,” she tells you one day. “It’s about balance—finding harmony within chaos.”

- The breakthrough comes when you finally open up about your neglectful home life. Wanda listens intently, her empathy as deep as her power. “I know what it’s like to feel unwanted,” she says, her voice breaking slightly. “But you are wanted here. You are loved.” Her words feel like a balm, soothing wounds you didn’t know you had.

- Wanda becomes a source of unconditional support in your life. Her kindness and understanding help you start healing, and her belief in you gives you the strength to believe in yourself. When she calls you “family,” it feels like a spell—a promise that no matter what, you’ll always have a place where you belong.

[multifandomworldsposts]

Day 1 of Kinkmas: Early Morning Sex

pairing: logan howlet x fem!reader

warning: thigh biting, eating out, hickeys, protected sex, breasts biting, blowjob

summary: Y/N gets worried about Logan. When Logan gets back, he makes it up to Y/N.

Y/N’s POV

I’ve been waiting for Logan almost all night and I give up at 2 am so I fell asleep in our bed but I kept on waking up every minute of he’s next to me or him walking in our room but nothing, I’m afraid of what’s happening to him.

6 AM

I wake up and checked the clock, 6:10 am, so early for me. I turn my body around and I see Logan sleeping by my side. I feel relieved and smile to myself, I lean towards him to kiss his cheek but I feel his hand on my neck to make us kiss.

I stop kissing by creasing his cheek and sees some little scars on his face.

“Where were you? You had me worried sick.” I say to him.

“Don’t worry about me darlin’ I was just on a mission.” He says creasing my side.

“I stayed up till 2 am.” I pout a little.

“Let me make it up to you.” He leans in to kiss me.

I deepened the kiss and he makes me lay on my back so he can kiss my body.

I feel him kissing my body to go to my inner thighs and begins to give me kisses and I feel him biting my inner thighs, I might be getting some hickeys. I begin to moan and I grab a clump of his hair to keep him there, until I feel his tongue inside me, I gasp and arch my back. I can feel him smirking on my skin. I cum on his tongue.

After a while, he’s been kissing my neck, I giggle by his dog tags on my chest, I feel him smirking on my neck and he starts to give me hickeys, but he stops what he was doing and looks at me. I whimper.

“Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna get something.” He whispers in my ear.

Logan leans to his nightstand to get something, when he comes back to me, he’s holding a condom.

I make Logan kiss me again and we begin to make out. I hear the condom wrapper rip, we’re still kissing, I feel him going in and out of me, I moan into our kiss. I can feel how big he is just by him moving around inside me.

I make us sit up and I wrap my legs and arms around him, he starts kissing and biting my breasts, I scream in pleasure, fuck he’s so good.

“Fuck Logan, let me take care of you.” I moan.

I make him stop biting me and make him look at me, he looks like a puppy who’s lost.

“Let me take care of you.” I whisper.

He smirks, I already can tell he wants something.

“I have an idea.” He grins.

“I can do it, just let me take care of you.” I pout.

He tells me what he wants, a blowjob, I get down on my knees and give him a blowjob. He groans so loud and grips on my hair to guide me through it.

9 AM

I look at the time, 9:30 am, holy shit, I lay down and look at Logan who’s waiting for my answer.

“It’s 9:30 am.” I snuggle up against him.

“Fuck. I gave ya something huh?” He groans.

“Mmm, yes you did.” I said.

“I love you, and I’ll never keep you waiting for me, I promise.” He makes us nose to nose.

I smile, I know he has to save the world but I know at some point he has to save me.

“I love you too Wolverine.” I say.

[pandapetals]

The Wolverine

You tell Logan about the myth of the Wolverine.

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - married couple, cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair

a/n: Im sad that logan doesn't remember kayla. She deserved better, well both of them did. So i wrote this for her. I did some googling and found in Innu culture they see the wolverine in a few different ways so i took that and ran with it.

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

divider credit: @enchanthings

You were curled up in the oversized armchair on the balcony, wrapped in a soft blanket, gazing out over the garden bathed in silvery moonlight. The stars sparkled overhead, scattered across the sky like tiny, far-off promises, casting a gentle glow over everything. Logan sat beside you, his arm draped around your shoulders, thumb tracing slow, absent-minded circles along your upper arm.

After a comfortable stretch of silence, you let out a quiet sigh, eyes still fixed on the stars. "Sometimes I wonder if I made the right choice, you know? Studying literature. Maybe I should’ve gone into astronomy instead." You paused, a small smile playing on your lips. "Stars are just so beautiful. There’s so much out there."

Logan chuckled, a low, warm sound that rumbled through his chest. "Oh yeah? So you could spend your days talkin’ about constellations and meteors? Think I’d go crazy, darlin’."

You nudged him playfully. "Oh, because listening to you ramble about ancient battles and military strategies is so riveting."

He smirked, tilting his head down to look at you. "Hey, at least I know how to make it interesting."

You rolled your eyes, leaning into him a little more. "Sure, you do, tough guy." After a moment, you tilted your head back to the sky, the light of the stars casting a soft glow in your eyes. "But, really... I've always wondered. Why Wolverine? I get the whole 'fierce and growly' thing, but it’s oddly specific."

Logan gave you a look, a playful warning in his gaze. "Watch it, sweetheart," he drawled, though there was a hint of amusement in his tone. He hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly as he looked back out over the garden. "Truth is… I’m not sure where it came from. Can’t remember. Might’ve been ‘cause I was a… well, an animal. Felt like one back then, anyway."

You reached over, resting a gentle hand on his arm, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You're not an animal, Logan," you said softly, your voice filled with quiet conviction. "You never were."

He let out a faint sigh as if he didn’t fully believe you, though he appreciated the sentiment. "Maybe not," he murmured, his gaze drifting back to the stars. "But it sure felt like it sometimes."

A peaceful silence settled between you, and you leaned your head against his shoulder, watching the stars glitter above. "Did you know," you said softly after a moment, "that in one Innu legend, the wolverine was actually a creator of the world?"

Logan raised an eyebrow, looking down at you with a skeptical smirk. "Now you’re makin’ stuff up."

You laughed, nudging him again. "I swear! It’s true. According to the story, the wolverine built a boat to save the animals from a great flood. Then he told a mink to dive into the water and gather mud, and he used it to create an island. That island eventually became the whole world."

Logan shook his head, a small, reluctant smile tugging at his lips. "You always gotta turn everything into a story, don’t you?"

You grinned, looking up at him with a twinkle in your eye. "I can’t help it. It’s what I do." You paused, then added, "There’s another story that says the Wolverine tried to steal light from the midnight sky. He fashioned bits of it into the sun, moon, and stars, creating the northern lights. Kind of fitting, don’t you think? A wolverine bringing light to the world."

Logan looked at you, amusement and something deeper flickering in his eyes. "You got quite the imagination, you know that?"

"Comes with the job," you teased, snuggling closer, resting your head on his chest. "But honestly… you bring light to people too, Logan. Even if you don’t see it. You’re gruff, sure, but there’s a big heart under all that scowling."

He huffed, though his chest rumbled with a laugh as his fingers absentmindedly traced circles along your shoulder. "You’re really layin’ it on thick tonight, aren’t ya?"

"Just stating the facts," you replied, looking up at him with a grin. "You’re kind of like the stars. Tough on the outside, but warm and steady when people need you most."

Logan’s gaze softened, and he reached up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek as he looked down at you. "If that’s how you see me… guess I can’t argue."

You smirked, snuggling back into his chest. "See? Not so bad being the wolverine, is it?"

He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. "Guess not," he murmured, his voice low and comforting. "Not if it means sittin’ here with you under these stars."

You looked up at him, eyes twinkling with playful warmth as you took in the way the moonlight softened his rough edges. "Who would’ve thought?" you whispered with a teasing lilt. "That the Wolverine could be more than just a trickster… that he could be gentle, even thoughtful."

Logan let out a low, skeptical chuckle, giving you a look that was both amused and exasperated. "Oh, is that so?" he rumbled, his voice a soft, low vibration beneath your cheek. "Here I thought I was just some ornery old fighter."

You chuckled, reaching up to trace a finger along his jaw, feeling the roughness of his stubble. "You’re definitely more than that. There’s a lot more to you than the tough-guy act. There’s… heart, kindness." You paused, smirking as you added, "Though the ‘ornery old fighter’ part is pretty accurate."

He let out a mock sigh, though his eyes glimmered with affection. "Don’t push it," he muttered, pulling you closer as he looked down at you, the corners of his mouth twitching in a reluctant smile.

You shifted slightly, resting your chin on his chest so you could look up at him. "You know, in some stories, the wolverine’s not just a trickster. He’s a protector. Fierce, unyielding. The one who keeps everyone safe, no matter what."

Logan’s eyes softened, and he reached up, brushing his thumb along your cheek as he gazed down at you. "So you see me as some kinda myth, huh?" he murmured, his voice low, almost vulnerable. "Better be careful, sweetheart. I’m just a man, remember?"

You smiled, covering his hand with yours. "Oh, I know," you whispered, your voice tender. "But you’re my myth, Logan. My hero. The one who showed me what real strength looks like."

For a moment, he looked taken aback, his usual composure slipping as he took in your words. Then, his gaze dropped, as if the weight of your affection was almost too much to bear. "You say all that… but sometimes I still feel like a lost soul," he murmured, his voice rough. "Someone who didn’t know where he belonged."

You cupped his face, guiding his eyes back to yours. "You belong right here," you whispered, your thumb tracing his cheek. "With me. Right where you’re supposed to be."

A soft, genuine smile played on his lips as he leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours. "Damn, darlin’," he muttered, his voice barely more than a rumble. "You’re gonna make me go soft."

You laughed, brushing a gentle kiss against his lips. "Too late for that," you teased, smiling against his mouth. "I think I’ve already uncovered the soft side of the Wolverine."

He rolled his eyes, but his hand found yours, his rough fingers intertwining with yours as he brought your hand to his lips. He pressed a lingering kiss to your knuckles, his gaze warm and unguarded. "You really make people question my reputation, you know that?" he murmured, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, am I ruining your whole 'grumpy lone wolf' image?" you teased, grinning up at him.

Logan pretended to be annoyed, though his eyes sparkled with affection. "Damn right, you are," he replied, his voice a low murmur. "Can’t go anywhere without folks thinkin’ I’m a softy now."

You leaned in, your face close to his, your smile teasing. "Well, maybe you are.”

He let out a low chuckle, pulling you even closer, his arm secure around you. "You’re lucky you’re cute," he muttered, his thumb brushing over your hand. "Otherwise, I might actually be annoyed."

You looked up at him, your heart full, and whispered, "I think you’re cute too, even if you try to hide it."

He groaned, tipping his head back. "There goes my whole reputation," he said, but when he looked back down at you, his gaze was filled with warmth, something so genuine that it made your heart skip a beat.

You squeezed his hand, giving him a playful smile. "Good.” You grinned, closing the small distance between you and kissing him, slow and sweet, letting the world fall away. When you finally pulled back, he was looking at you with a smile so genuine it made your heart skip.

"Happy?" he asked, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your hand.

You nodded, resting your head on his shoulder as you both gazed out at the stars. "Always, with you."

[qaxqxd]

JOYRIDE

♡: Logan Howlett x Deadpool!f!reader Genre: Smut (Readers advised, 18+ content ahead.) Warning: Mention of, bondage, oral (receiving and giving), unprotected sex (p in v), some praising and degrading, orgasms denial, overstimulation, fingering, some light teasing from Logan, creampie, cussing, sex with some plot, no mention of y/n, grammar mistakes (english is not my first language) Word count: 2.3k A/n: deadpool reader and wolverine sort of outta character tbh Summary: The car is not the only thing you’re riding. (Takes place during the scene where they fought in the car)

The car drove through the forest as you made little ‘thwups’ noises pretending to be Spider-man. “Stop it.” The metal ding-dong man grumbled. A little saddened by the request, you processed to make one last ‘thwups’ noise before stopping.

You didn’t like the silence in the car, so you decided to try to hold up a convo with Wolvie. “So, if they could fix your world. What’s the first thing you’re gonna do when you get outta here?— Some rubbing alcohol shots? Maybe a wiper fluid chaser?” You snicker.

“What s’did you say?” He cocked his head towards you. Which sent slight shivers down your back, but heated your core. “I said, when you get back, what are you gonna do?” You repeated. “No before that.” He mumbled.

“If… they could fix your world?” You hesitated to say.

The car abruptly stops as Wolvie pulls the brakes. He glared at you, daggers sent your way. If looks could kill you’d probably be dead, even with your rapidly healing abilities.

“What do you mean ‘if’?” He spoke with a deadly tone. “I mean—” He cuts you off. “You lied to me! You don’t have a fucking clue if they can help fix things, do you?” He muttered. “No-? I mean— OH FUCK! FUCK.” You shouted in pain.

His adamantium claws digged into your thigh painfully. “I DIDN’T LIE—!” He cuts you off again. “YOU LIED!” He exclaimed. “NO! I MADE A EDUCATED WISH.” You proclaimed. He frowned at you like it was the dumbest thing you’ve said so far.

You really had no idea if they could, but you really needed him. Your world was dying, because of this hot metal shitbag who decided to play hero and dies in your world. So you needed a replacement. Who knew the replacement would be a total jerk?

Damn, at least he was still hot even when he was yelling at you. Your panties if not already not were soaked.

You both went silent for a bit, before you started speaking again. “Because I need you.” You huffed quickly pulling out a photo of your friends. “This. This is why. Right here.” You pointed at the picture.

“Because If we don’t do anything, they die.” You paused for a second trying to catch your breath, and trying to ignore the painful digging on your left thigh. “I don’t know anything about saving worlds, and why would I care? Because my entire world is right here in this picture.” You rasp.

He just glared at you, fuming. “It's— only nine people, and I have no idea how to save it alone. I know how to fucked people up for money, but you YOU know how to— well at least the other Wolverine did— AGH.” You yelped as he dug in deeper in your thigh. 

“Well I guess I’m stuck with the worst one!” You ranted. “Did you say you made an educated fuckin’ wish?” He growled. “They call me the merc with the mouth, they don’t call me truthful jimmy blowjob of Saskatoon.” You stated.

He pulled his claws out of your thigh, leaving a deep crimson puddle behind it. “One more word.” He huffs. “Please, give me one.” Wolvie scolded. You paused for a second.

“Gubernatorial” And quickly flinched at him almost punching you. “Y’know what? You’re a fucking joke. No wonder the Avengers didn’t take you, or the X-Men.” He let out a bitter laugh. “And they’ll take fuckin’ anyone. I mean you are ridiculous, immature, half wit-moron.” He paused for a bit to breathe.

“I have never met a sadder, more attention starved, jabbering little prick. In my entire life, and that says a lot, because I’ve been alive for more over two-hundred fuckin’ years. And I’ll tell ya’, that bald chick was right ‘bout one thing. You will NEVER save the world. YOU couldn’t even save a RELATIONSHIP WITH A GODDAMN STRIPPER. 

MOTHERFUCKER I wish I could say you die alone. BUT IT IS GOD’S BEST JOKES THAT YOU CAN’T DIE, AND HAVE THAT ON ALL OF US.” He shouted, hitting his fist on the car roof.

You stayed quiet, processing every little hurtful detail he just threw at you.

“You got nothin’ to say? Mouth?” He scoffed in your face. You both went quiet, only the sound of his breathing was audible. “I’m going to fight you now.” You huffed. He laughed bitterly in your face. “Oh are you?—” Your fist hits his face, and his nose starts dripping.

He hits you multiple times in the face, before you two go on a whole kicking and punching situation with his claws out too. He quickly ties you up to the seat and he claws you. You quickly kick him out of the vehicle, trying to unbuckle yourself.

He got launched outside the windshield, and you climbed to the back. God, the Honda Odyssey was a nice car. Too bad Nicepool wasn’t getting it back in mint condition, but I don’t think he would’ve mind.

Wolvie jumped back in the car pushing his claws pushing into you again, ouch. He pushed you outside the car through the sunroof, and you weren’t going to let that slide. So you jumped back into the car through the window, with the baby knives in your hands.

This time you were on top of him pinning him against the seat. I mean it wasn’t a bad spot to be in. You could feel him underneath your already drenched clothing. “The fight makin’ your eggplant rise, Wolvie?” You teased him, by pressing against his clothe bulge.

“Shut. the. fuck. up.” He sneered back. As he pushed you onto the seat. He grabbed the knives out of your hand and threw them out. He used the seatbelts to tie your hands together, and you both calmed down for a bit.

Man, the position you were in right now was sort of hot. You could feel your core begging him for it. You know he could smell the arousal from you, he always was when he first met you. You were a horny sonofabitch.

He’s been trying to ignore it this whole time, but he's done with that bullshit. “Quick question, is it made out of metal?” You broke the silence. “What?” He grumbled. “Your dick, because if it is—” He pulled the mask off just a bit to see your nose and mouth, and pulled you in for an aggressive kiss.

His tongue discovering your whole mouth. You didn’t hold back either, engaging with his tongue. He had his hand on your hips sliding to unbuckling your pants. Once he did, he saw your damp panties.

It was a pretty pink color with a small bow in the front. He almost thought it was a little cute. Hell, you were so soaked for him. He peels off your underwear to reveal your puffy cunt. He pulled off his gloves with his teeth and inserted two digits into you.

You squeal at the sudden push. He didn’t need lube or anything because of how soaking wet you were. His fingers curl at you clenching onto him. His finger pumped in a rough circular motion. “All wet from me?” he groans, his pants tighten. “Don’t let it get to you, wolf boy.” You grinned, it was getting tougher to breathe as you could feel your first orgasm.

Once Logan felt you getting too close, he withdrew his fingers. You let out a pout. “What the fuck, dickhead?” Your cunt was pulsing for his touch. You tried squeezing your thighs together to make some friction. He let out a bitter chuckle.

You knew how ridiculous you must look right now. He pulled your legs apart as he inserted his fingers again. Repeating the same pumping motion just to pull out again at the brink of your orgasm.

He was teasing you, and he loved every moment of it. He kept your legs apart, making sure you couldn’t create any friction at all. You had to sit there shaking, as you needed a release so bad. Even the slightest bit.

You knew that fuckers was trying to get you to beg for it. You cussed at him everytime he withdrew his fingers when you were close. “Don’t wanna talk now, huh?” He laughed. “Fuck. You.” You sneered at him.

Your hands were still tied to the seatbelt. He flicked your clit, making you jolt from the sensation. His face got close to your puffy folds and he blew cold air onto it, making you arch. You felt a warmth entering your folds.

His tongue explored your folds in and out. You came immediately at the feeling, and heard him chuckling. He didn’t let you ride it out; he just kept on going. Your thighs trembled at him eating you out.

He did not need to be this good at it, it made you feel dizzy from the feeling. He looked at you with desire in his eyes. “God, Wolvie, you are an animal.” You spoke with a tremble. He ripped another orgasm from you this time letting you ride it out.

He wiped his face from your slick and unbuckled his own pants. Your jaw almost dropped by the size of it. It was fucking hugh. “Oh my honey buns!! How do you expect that to fit inside— mphm!” He covered your mouth, “It’ll fit.” He angles himself to your entrance.

He slides into you with ease and a soft moan escapes your lips and that was his trigger. Your legs straddle against his hips. His hips buckle against you. He lets you adjust to him before he starts pounding into your weeping cunt.

This man was going to ruin every man for you. The way he's grinding against you endlessly got you drunk on him enough. Strings of moans and satisfaction left your mouth. He held the fat of your ass, while his other hand was pushing down on your stomach.

“Look at you, struggling to talk, hm?” He grunted, he had that shit eating grin on him. As much as you wanted to say something it was hard real hard. “F—uck, fuck, fuck, Wolvie.” You spat his name out. He felt your clenching and how deliciously you were squeezing his cock.

He rocks his hips into you, as his pace is relentless. The blood rushes into your head as your third orgasm is pulled. His cock covered by your slick. “Aren’t you just a slut? Coming on my cock like that.” He scolded.

His claw came out and you flinched. “Calm down, bub.” He hissed, he cut the seatbelt off of you. Your hands were finally free, you moved them around to wake them up after being in the same position for a long time.

He pushes your head down, “Ah, open.” He grunts, you comply, planning to bite his dick off. Which your plan completely foils, “If you bite it off, I’m not letting you cum.” He added, you made what seemed to be a grumble noise.

But your mouth stuffed with his cock, who knows. He pushes your head deeper into his girth. Your tongue wrapped around his length. It was quite salty, groans and grunts escaped from his mouth as your head bobs.

You could tell he was getting close by the way he pushed your head down further, almost getting you to gag on it. He eventually releases down your throat, having you choke on it a little. It had a salty and bitter taste, but it wasn’t so terrible.

You found his mouth pressed against yours, again. His rough yet somewhat passionate kiss, led you on top of his body. You both let go to catch your breath, and you felt his cock hit your back.

‘Fuck’ you cursed mentality. It was hard, again. He lifted your hips up where your cunt met his cock again, and it perfectly kissed your cervix. You let out a harsh moan, and instinctively started to grind on him.

He held his hand around your hips, basically guiding your hips in a motion. “Right there, princess.” He grunted. Your thigh trembles from the overwhelming sensation. You don’t even know if you could come again.

Even though your body rapidly regenerates, you still get tired. Unlike this mad man, he could go on forever. You push those thoughts away as you try to give him one last orgasm. The circular motion began to pick up speed.

Your hips sway against him and your cunt bouncing on top of his length. Your hands on his chest while your head limps forwards. He could tell you were getting desperate from how sloppy you were moving.

Yeah he might have tried killing you multiple times after your “Educated Wish” situation, but he was still a gentleman. Having a soft spot for women even if it means including you. “Where do you want it, princess?” He huffed which drew you back to reality.

“God, Inside, please.” You whined. You came for the fourth time, and as your walls clench onto his cock. His warm seed fills you, painting your pretty walls. Making a mess on his lap. You instantly fall asleep on top of him.

Your snores, making him realize you were knocked out. He pulled out and a whine escaped your lips, losing the warmth that he provided. He was a gentleman enough to redress you. He decided he’ll figure out what to do with you tomorrow.

He tried pulling you away from his chest, but you held on tight, so he gave up and fell asleep with you on him anyways.

[waywardsou2]

Drunk!Logan x Drunk!Male Reader

This was supposed to be kinda smutty but it ended up being kinda sad. If you want to see part two with some actual NSFW themes then let me know in the comments, because I feel like I can go somewhere with this.

Summary: Life is shitty being a mutant, and it's even shittier when you can't save everyone. So where do you turn? The bar, to drink away the pain and forget for a few hours. Unfortunately for you, someone decided to keep you company.

Word Count: 1k+

Tags: alcohol, bar fight, suicidal ideation, self-hate, self-esteem, worthlessness trauma

It had been a rough week, the missions got difficult and sacrifices had to be made. People were lost. But its part of the job right? That shit always happens. Well tonight you just couldn’t stand it, the knowing that there were people you couldn’t save. Families who were missing loved ones, because you weren’t fast enough.

It made you sad, but it mostly made you angry. At least that’s how you presented it to the world. And that’s how you presented it to Logan, the man who had followed you to the bar. You didn’t know why. If he cared, you didn’t want his pity. If he was here for a drink why couldn’t he have gone somewhere else.

Big scary Logan, The Wolverine. What did he need to sit here and drink about, especially where you were trying to get shit faced before you had to see Charles the next day.

“Can’t you drink somewhere else?” you say to him, your words already slurred from the bottle you had almost finished emptying.

“Nope” he said flatly as he sat down on the stool next to you, ordering a round of shots for himself.

You rolled your eyes, either this guy was dense or just an asshole.

“Oh Logan is too high and mighty to go drink somewhere else because I would rather get shit faced alone than with company” you say

The bar was empty, but it didn’t really matter much, you weren’t going to keep your voice down even if there were people in here. Something about him was just rubbing you the wrong way. You didn’t know whether it was the alcohol, the pain of your supressed emotions or just the fact that Logan never bat an eye at you despite how much you tried to show him you had value to the team.

“Yeah basically”

Your anger gets the better of you at his sarcasm and you shove him, he leans away, almost spilling his drink. He downs it and turns to you

“Are we gonna have a problem, bub?”

“I don’t know, are we?” you retort

“You want to do this here? Now?”

“What to scare to make a mess? Afraid you’ll hurt me? Guess what asshole I’m-“

But he didn’t get to hear what you are because he shoved you back, standing up from his seat as he pushed you off yours and onto the ground. Your back hit the wooden floor and you hear the bartender sigh.

You watch as he walks away from the counter and into the back.

You glare up at Logan, lips peeled back in a snarl. But before you could stand up, he was grabbing you by the collar of your shirt and pulling you up from the ground. He was taller than you slightly so he could lift you off your feet.

“You think your funny with a smart mouth like that, well I got news for you, it’ll be no good for anything if you keep running it off”

You tried to shove him off of you but you couldn’t bring up enough force with your feet barely touching the ground.

“Let go of me!”

“Are going to calm down?”

“That depends, are you going to keep pushing me around?”

He dropped you and your knee buckled a little bit at suddenly having to take weight again.

“You pushed first” he muttered going to sit back down

“And I’m going to push last”

You swing at him, a sloppy, open swing, unlike your usual bullet-like punches. Before you could even make contact with Logan he spun around and pushed you to the floor again, clambering on top of you. His claws out. The outermost ones were jammed into the floor creating a fracture in the wood from the force, the middle was still retracted, barely peeking out of the gap in his skin just above your neck.

Instead of feeling fear at the threat you laugh. Like him, you had super regeneration so him stabbing you was no real threat. Not to mention you had carbon fiber steel for skin. He shoves his face in yours and growls

“What the fuck is your problem” he spits

Both of you have drunk enough, you're both rearing for a fight and the only person you have to take it out on is each other.

Logan is pissed, he doesn’t get you. You spend every mission jumping into dangerous situations and then you come to the bar every night to come back drunk. Do you have a screw loose or are you just that stupid.

Even as he looks at you with his brow furroed and his claws at your throat you continue to laugh.

“Go on then, slice me open. Maybe we’ll both feel better afterwards” you laugh again but pain stings at your eyes as tears well up.

If only you could just die, make a sacrifice worth something like everyone else. Maybe then the pain will stop, maybe then you won't spend every night pitting yourself, maybe you won't be the cause of any more loss because you just weren’t good enough.

Logan pauses, ready cut you to ribbons but your statement makes him freeze. He knows that tone, the mirth. The self-deprecation and pain in your words. He doesn’t need to be like Charles to know what’s going on in your head.

“What. Are. You. Waiting. For?”

Before Logan could answer or move you grip his wrist pulling it out of wooden floors and slam his fist into you chest.

But there are no blades, no blood and not cuts. Just the knuckles of his fist thumping into your chest. It only throbs in pain, no damage done.

“Fuck you” you say bluntly and shove him off of you, pushing him away and standing up. He’s left speechless watching as you stand up, down the rest of the bottle and one of his shots. Pull out some crumpled notes and storm off, walking out into the night.

Let me know if you want part 2 and I take request for as well so check me out @waywardwritesstuff for my request info.

(Psst you can find part 2 here)

[completeoveranalysis]

[6]

SCREAMING FOREVER OK EVERYONE SIT DOWN

Since the literal beginning of all this the big hanging question behind Clow Reed has always been, “Is this the same one or a different one?”

And under that question came infinite other questions such as, “How could this be the same one if he died ages ago?” and “Is this an Alternate Universe Clow Reed- oh god how many Clow Reeds could there possibly be?!”, and even “Is this a Clow Reed Clone? Or was the CCS Clow Reed a clone all along?!?!” and on and on into forever.

ENTER: THE MOST SIMPLE ANSWER OF ALL. 

IT’S JUST THE SAME GUY. 

THIS WAS THE CLOW REED FROM CARDCAPTOR SAKURA ALL ALONG. 

And I’m just LOSING MY MIND because that means a huge part of Cardcaptor Sakura is centered on a lie. 

Or like, not REALLY a lie. It’s still true that he's dead. But Clow Reed lied to everyone he left behind, and those are all the people we get our answers from in that series. He told them he was going to die and they believed him.

I suppose he could have phrased it ambiguously? But if he DID it was with the intent that they thought he was dead, because that's what they think. He told them that on purpose.

AM I GOING TO GO DOWNSTAIRS AND FACT CHECK WITH CARDCAPTOR SAKURA? ... YES. OK.

OK OK OK OK HERE WE GO KERO SAYS THEY SAW HIM DIE. There we go, 100% he lied to them and even made it look convincing.

WAIT HAVE YOU READ CARDCAPTOR SAKURA? DON’T WORRY LET ME TELL YOU EVERYTHING YOU NEED TO KNOW. (But if you don’t want spoilers for everything before Clear Card just skip the rest of this post). 

So the ENTIRE narrative of Cardcaptor Sakura centres on the fact that Clow Reed is dead. He died and left Yue and Keroberos in charge of the Clow Cards and their legacy. (Which is what is being depicted in the Top Left of this page. It's the conversation Clow had with Kero and Yue when he suddenly announced it to them). He died and left a family legacy for Syaoran to eventually inherit - however distantly, we don’t actually know. He died and had foreseen Cardcaptor Sakura, and left gifts and hints for her to continue his legacy and eclipse it. He died and his magic as a power source was dying all these years later, which was why she had to convert the cards, to save them, and Kero, and Yue. 

EXCEPT, HE DIDN’T DIE. 

Or at least, he didn’t die right away. He told Yue and Kero that he was going to die (and made them think they SAW it) and then FUCKED OFF to the Clow Kingdom to live there happily and raise Sakura and Touya there. 

WHICH. I am hung up on because that means in Clow's original reality, which is essentially our world, he had foreseen his death and that Cardcaptor Sakura was going to become his successor - and then, I guess, found out about the big Time Reset Wish that Evil Wolverine did for Lava Lamp, which trapped an alternate version "Sakura" in a Frozen bubble of time that would leave a new 'cloned' copy of her in the new version of the timeline. But that means Clow also would have had a vision of what happens to this new version of the Alternate Sakura, and the huge fate that lay ahead of her, and also that she did not have parents anymore, and so he was like, "AH YES A JOB FOR ME? Let me just tell everyone who loves me that I’m dead and slip over there for like ten years and ride that out." 

But not only that but CLOW REED IS IN CARDCAPTOR SAKURA TOO. HE IS THERE. HE IS ERIOL AND HE IS FUJITAKA. HE SPLIT HIMSELF INTO THE TWO OF THEM. 

Which means that he, like, told Yue and Kero that he died, went to the Clow Kingdom, lived that out, then told THEM that he died too, then went back to his original reality and Split Himself into two new people. Which counts as “death”, TECHNICALLY, sure. There is no more ‘Clow Reed’. He is not a singular living person anymore. But he didn’t “die” in the way that his family in Cardcaptor Sakura AND Tsubasa thought. Though it amounts to the same thing. 

EXCEPT - there is Eriol. Eriol inherited Clow Reed’s memories. So HE KNEW ALL THIS. HE KNEW THE WHOLE TIME. 

HE TECHNICALLY IS OFF IN CARDCAPTOR SAKURA DOING HIGH SCHOOL SHENANIGANS WITH THE FULL KNOWLEDGE THAT HIS DAUGHTER (SAKURA CLONE) IS OFF DYING FOR THE UNIVERSE AND TRYING DESPERATELY TO SAVE IT FROM EVIL WOLVERINE. WHILE HE’S SITTING ACROSS FROM YAMAZAKI AND MAKING STUPID JOKES. 

Though like, full disclaimer, I don’t actually mean it was at the same time. Because (a) time runs differently on different worlds, and (b) we are very lucky that’s true because otherwise it becomes a headache trying to piece it all together, but also (c ) Time travel, so we don’t even need to worry about it. I was at the end of writing another huge paragraph trying to put the events all in order but DONT WORRY ABOUT IT. TIME TRAVEL EXISTS. It all becomes circles in the end anyway. 

So like, don’t worry about it. :) Time Travel. 

The more fun thing is that Fujitaka technically existed as his own separate person in the Clow Kingdom FIRST, with Nadeshiko. Until time reordered events and Clow Reed jumped in to be Sakura’s new dad, before going back home and splitting himself into two people - one of which is the Fujitaka from Cardcaptor Sakura. Like. How does that work on a personal level. Did Clow Reed choose to let part of himself become the guy he replaced, or was he always kind of an Alternate version of him to begin with.

And then THAT Fujitaka meets the alternate Nadeshiko and they fall in love all over again. Which is also fun because it means that THAT Nadeshiko existed in this universe without a Fujitaka in it, Until Clow Reed came back split himself INTO the guy he went over there to replace, and BECAME the guy she was destined to fall in love with, even though he didn’t technically exist at all before that point. 

VERY HITSUZEN OF IT ALL. 

[wisteriaiswriting]

Spider-Pool meeting ATSV Villains

Words: 497

Request: Remember that spiderverse request with Male Reader being a Deadpool Spider-Man variant? Can you write another reaction to meeting him this time with 42 Miles, Olivia Octavis and The Spot Requested by: @ma1egamer

Has kinda become general headcanons + a blurb instead of just meeting

This man gets so annoyed at you so quickly. (Deadpool and Wolverine type relationship)

Won’t really enable you on whatever you do, but he won’t stop you that often.

He does have his limits though, where he will have to stop you, even bringing his uncle to help if needed. (Even if you have Deadpool’s regeneration, he will still panic sometimes)

Will deny it every time, but he is keeping constant surveillance on you wherever you go.

***

“¡¿Qué te pasa?!” “Well I–” “Cállate. Lo juro,” Taking a deep breath before continuing, “You’re lucky I was there to save your ass, who knows what they woulda’ down to ya.” Know leaning over your sitting figure, which didn’t deter you one bit. “So what I’m getting from this, is that you care about me?”

Leaning closer to him. He huffed, shoving your face away, sending you and the chair onto the floor.

Please just stay out of her lab, she cannot afford to have you break any of her things.

This woman is 100% enabling you, just don’t get majorly hurt otherwise she will not let you out for ages.

Don’t try to fight her after she made her decision, all your ‘hero’ duties are being put on hold for a while.

Definitely entertains your banter, to be honest she thrives on it.

***

You watched as Olivia typed away on her computer, but you were unable to get any closer to her. This was due to one of her tentacles or whatever they were actually called, holding you up in the air.

On a recent mission you were dumb enough to get injured but smart enough to visit her when they were all healed, but not smart enough to not brag about the fight. “Y/N, you did what?” “Who, me? I did absolutely nothing, how could you accuse me of anything!” Pausing your dramatics seeing her look at you, “So what, I got hurt but I’m fine. It’s all healed, it does–HEY!”

One of her tentacles of whatever she called them, had grabbed your ankle, hauling you into the air. “You can’t do this to me, Olivia!”

His dude cannot finish any jokes or punchines due to you either cutting him off or (Incorrectly) finishing them for him.

Gonna be honest here, He is so scared of you, especially if you still have Deadpool's swords.

And he's that clear, also letting you know that he doesn't really want to fight you, too scared to do it.

***

“Oh wow, this world's hero is more dangerous than– HEY!” Using his spots to move away from you just in time, one of your swords now wedged in the wall. “Stop doing that!” “Why would I?”

Watching The Spot get more frustrated, as he had to keep moving cause you didn’t let up. Which also meant you kept cutting off anything anything he said, “Fine then, I’ll go!” Finally pausing when the portal closed, “Fucking hell, what was wrong with that guy?”

[maybe-im-dark]

Nailed it

A little Piece about what would have happened if Deadpool and Wolverine would have met differently. Set in the Logan movie

-------------------------------------------------------------

Logan and Dr. Zander Rice stood facing each other, the tension between them palpable. Rice's smug expression contrasted sharply with Logan's barely contained rage, and the air crackled as if it were about to explode. Rice was in the middle of a monologue when suddenly…BANG, BANG, BANG! Gunshots rang out. Blood spattered, and Rice, Pierce, and the other Reavers in the background clutched at their chests or necks, where gaping holes had appeared, before collapsing.

From behind the fallen bodies emerged a figure in a red-and-black spandex leather suit. Two katanas were strapped to their back, pistols in holsters on their legs. The mask was red, and the white eyeholes were framed by black diamonds. In one hand, they held a pistol, and in the other, a confetti cannon, which they fired over their head, letting the confetti rain down on them.

“Boom! Right on time, baby! Deadpool saves the day!”

Logan stared at the bizarre figure, utterly confused. His claws were extended, but for the moment, he was too perplexed to react. The figure struck a dramatic pose under the confetti rain and then patted themselves on the back.

“Ah, the sweet smell of victory and…,” they held the pistol barrel to their nose and inhaled deeply, “is that gunpowder? Definitely gunpowder. Anyway, let’s take a moment to appreciate my heroism, folks. Nailed it!”

Logan blinked, trying to make sense of the situation. Rice, the mastermind behind it all, who had been moments away from revealing his evil plans, lay dead on the ground, and this guy in a „Spider-Man on drugs“ costume was acting like he’d just won a game show.

Logan frowned. “Who the hell are you?“

The guy paused and laughed, smacking his forehead with his hand. “Oh right! I totally forgot to introduce myself! Where are my manners? I’m Deadpool, or Wade Wilson, if you prefer a more formal introduction.”

Deadpool pulled out a business card and handed it to Logan before continuing.

“And with the help of the TVA and their time-travel-universe-timeline-stuff—don’t ask me how it works, I didn’t get it either—I just saved your ass, Wolvie! Yeah, you’re welcome!”

Logan looked at the business card, which read: Deadpool: Mercenary, Professional Smartass, Occasional Hero (when I feel like it).

He squinted at Deadpool, utterly confused. “Wolvie?”

The mercenary holstered his pistols and pointed finger guns at him. “Yup! Logan, Wolverine, Weapon X… whatever you’re going by in this universe. Big fan, by the way. Thought I’d lend you a hand since you looked a little… cornered.”

Logan retracted his claws but remained wary, sizing him up before cautiously concluding, “You’re insane.”

Deadpool shrugged nonchalantly, his grin audible in his voice. „Yeah, that’s the general consensus. But hey, insanity comes with perks. Like saving hairy old mutants from certain doom.“

He began rummaging through his belt pockets, pulling out random items: a taco, a grenade, a small plush unicorn, until he finally found a pair of sunglasses and put them on over his mask.

“If you’re wondering why I’m doing all this… well, let’s just say I had a little run-in with the TVA, and they revealed to me that you’re an… what’s it called again… anchor being, and your death would result in the destruction of my reality. And I thought, ‘Hey, before my world goes to hell, why not save the ol' Wolverine,’ and voilà—here I am.”

Logan crossed his arms, still trying to make sense of the situation. Meanwhile, Laura watched from the background, her eyes darting between Logan and Deadpool.

“You killed these guys?” asked the clawed mutant.

Deadpool nodded casually. “Yup. One-man death squad. You know, before all this went down, I was on a pretty dark path. Almost joined the dark side. But they didn’t have cookies, and you know, they always say there’d be cookies. I think it’s pretty rude when they lie about stuff like that! But anyway… oh, you don’t need to thank me. I already threw myself a party.”

He gestured to the confetti still scattered around them and suddenly pulled out another confetti cannon, which he fired off. More colorful bits rained down as Deadpool playfully spun in a circle.

“Confetti makes everything better,” he declared.

Logan watched the show for a moment, running a hand through his hair, half-tempted to just leave this lunatic behind.

“Look,” he growled, “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but—”

Deadpool interrupted him, raising a hand. “Oh no, no games, Logan. Just a little murder, confetti, and friendship. You’re basically my grumpy soulmate. I’m doing us both a favor. Besides, I know you’ve got a soft spot for the little girl with the claws over there.”

He pointed at Laura, who raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

“Adorable, by the way. How do you guys manage it when you go on future missions together? Do you call yourselves Wolverine and Wolverine Junior? Sorry, I’m just trying to understand the family dynamic.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed again, but Deadpool put a finger to his mask as if deep in thought.

“Anyway, the bad guys are gone, you’ve got the merc with a mouth on your side now, and I think that’s enough heroics for today. We really should head back to the TVA so they can fix my world and your uh…everything. Oh man, Paradox is gonna be pissed because i broke his nose, but eh. Oh, and if you ever need me,” he looked over at the other mutant kids hiding between the trees, “just give a shout. Or fire a flare. I love dramatic entrances.”

Logan looked at him, then at Laura, who shrugged, just as confused as he was.

“I don’t need a damn sidekick,” he muttered.

Deadpool waved dismissively. “Oooh, sidekick? No, no, no. Think of me as your chaotic, slightly insane co-hero. Or better yet, let’s be best friends.”

Logan sighed, clearly done with this conversation. As he walked off with Laura in tow, Deadpool flashed a peace sign behind them.

„We should totally get chimichangas later. Or shawarma, like the Avengers. How about both? What do you think? Is there a place that sells both chimichangas and shawarma?”

Logan ignored him and kept walking with Laura in tow. Wade watched them go before crouching down and pulling out his phone to take a selfie with the bodies of Rice and his henchmen in the background.

“Yep,” he said, grinning into the camera, “definitely nailed it.”

Then he pressed the TVA device and opened a portal. Logan made his way through the underbrush toward the glowing gate while Deadpool followed, hopping along like it was a stroll in the park.

“You know the best thing about this being a fanfiction?” Deadpool asked, clearly not a fan of silence.

Logan growled. „I have no idea what you’re talking about in the first place.“

Deadpool patted the mutant on the shoulder and grinned beneath his mask. “Well, the best thing is that it’s not part of the movie. Which means, my hairy friend, that Hugh Jackman doesn’t have to bulk up for six months and eat nothing but chicken and broccoli to get those gorgeous muscles. He can just sit back and relax with a latte while the author types away all those rock-hard abs and veins.”

Logan shot him a sideway glance, deadpan. “You’re an idiot.”

“And you look damn good for a washed-up mutant with adamantium poisoning.”

And with that, Wade pulled out his phone again, zoomed in on Logan’s butt, and snapped a picture.

[paper-lilypie]

“This Wolverine let his world down.” okay.

“Is that what you said when your whole world went to shit?!” oh okay.

“I don’t know how to save worlds. You do.” oh. okay.

oh.

okay.

[the-writerwoman]

Happy holidays 🎅🏻🎄🎁☃️ I bring you the gift of angst!

Another 4am brainrot as my baby kept me up most of the night.

In this one, Logan and Wade fight against a mutant, not knowing that they can go through time and send people through time. Logan ends up getting sent back in time. To 2016, but he doesn’t know it until he tries to regroup at Sister Margaret’s and Weasel doesn’t know who he is. He waits for Wade anyway, but instead of the red leather clad weirdo he was used to, in walked the unblemished, full head of haired mercenary. Before he met Vanessa, before he got his cancer diagnosis. Logan was in trouble. Especially when Wade finds out that Logan is the very wolverine he’d admired as a kid, and he declares them soulmates and tries to chase after him and if Logan’s not careful, then the whole of Wade’s future could be changed.

This scene is after Wade finds out Logan is from the future, and what the consequences could be if the future was changed.

Hope you enjoy!

——————————

The tension in the room was suffocating as Logan stood there, clenching and unclenching his fists. Wade’s chest felt tight as he waited for Logan to say something, anything, that could make sense of the situation.

“I don’t know,” Logan said finally, his voice raw. “I shouldn’t be telling you any of this. The timeline is delicate, Wade. If you decide not to go through with the program, or if you don’t fall in love with Vanessa when you’re supposed to, everything changes. Everything goes wrong.”

Wade frowned, stepping closer, his voice low. “What does that mean, Logan? Why does it all matter so much? I don’t even know a Vanessa.”

Logan hesitated, the pain in his eyes evident as he looked at Wade. “Because if you don’t become who you’re meant to be, you won’t be the man who saves me. You won’t pull me out of my universe when it matters most. And if that doesn’t happen…”

Logan’s voice cracked, and he looked away, his hands curling into fists. “Then I stay in my world.”

Wade tilted his head, his chest aching at the sight of Logan’s visible anguish. “What’s so bad about staying in your world?”

Logan let out a shaky breath, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the question. “If I stay in my world… I spend the rest of my life hated. Hunted. Spat on. I’ve worked on it. I know I’m not to blame, but in my world, the X-Men were attacked while I wasn’t there. I came back to find them all… gone.”

Wade’s heart sank, his breath catching as Logan’s voice broke.

“Jean, Scott… even the kids,” Logan continued, his voice trembling. “All of them. Dead. And I wasn’t there to stop it.”

Wade’s stomach twisted painfully as Logan paused, swallowing hard.

“I lost it,” Logan admitted, his voice thick with guilt. “The rage took over, and I… I killed people. People who didn’t deserve it. I let it consume me.” His shoulders shook slightly, and when he looked back at Wade, there were tears glistening in his eyes. “It doesn’t matter how much time passes. I’ll always be the man who let them die.”

Wade couldn’t take it anymore. He crossed the room in two strides and pulled Logan into a hug. Logan froze for a moment, his breath catching, before his arms wrapped tightly around Wade. He clung to him as if Wade were the only thing holding him together, his breaths shaky against Wade’s neck.

“It’s not your fault,” Wade murmured, his voice soft but firm. “None of it is your fault, Logan.”

Logan didn’t say anything, but the way his grip tightened spoke volumes. Wade held him closer, his own chest aching at the thought of this version of Logan, so broken, so weighed down by guilt and grief.

After a while, Wade gently pulled back, his hands resting on Logan’s shoulders. He tilted his head, pressing a soft kiss to Logan’s temple, a quiet, comforting gesture. Logan closed his eyes at the contact, his breathing still uneven.

Wade’s lips hovered for a moment before he shifted, catching Logan’s lips in a soft, tentative kiss. It was gentle at first, a question rather than a demand. Logan didn’t pull away, but he didn’t respond either, as if he were frozen in place.

When Wade pressed again, Logan responded tentatively, then with more certainty. His hands found Wade’s waist, grounding himself in the moment. For a fleeting moment, everything felt right.

But then Logan pulled back with a sharp breath, his eyes wide. “We can’t,” he said, his voice strained.

Wade blinked, his heart pounding. “Why not?”

Logan shook his head, though his hands didn’t leave Wade’s waist. “Because… if we do this, if I let this happen, it could ruin everything. The timeline, the future, it’s too risky.”

Wade’s jaw tightened, and he reached up to cup Logan’s face, forcing him to meet his gaze. “Logan, listen to me. I’ll do it. Everything I’m supposed to. The program, the torture, hell, I’ll even fall in love with this Vanessa when the time comes, if that’s what it takes. But don’t push me away. Not now. Not when I have you right here.”

Logan looked at him, his resolve visibly crumbling. “Wade…”

“Please,” Wade whispered, his voice trembling. “If this is all we get, if this is all we’re allowed, then let us have it. Just this once.”

Logan closed his eyes, his jaw clenching. Wade didn’t give him time to argue. He leaned in again, capturing Logan’s lips in another kiss, more desperate this time. Logan groaned softly, his hands gripping Wade’s waist as he finally gave in.

[bloodlessbelmounte]

Eternity Will Bring You Near - Chapter 4

Masterlist

Summary:

Wade understood that Logan was from a world where Alpha, Beta and Omega were everyday terms, not exclusive to red-pilled incel fuckheads who kept inventing new performative male genders. Wade would’ve been classified as a Beta. Logan, however, was an Alpha - Wade’s read enough fanfiction and yaoi manga to know what that means. Though it doesn’t explain why Logan keeps sniffing him.

Pairing: Alpha!Worst Wolverine/Deadpool Genre: A/B/O, Smut, Domestic-ish Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, Blood, Lots of Logan Biting, Anal Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Anal Fingering

Beginning Note: I have been afflicted by the AO3 curse yet again. Illness (I literally threw up after making the most progress on this chapter), Migraines (Another week long bitch), Injuries (Woo I had a trip to minor injuries). I was going to have chapter 4 be longer to make up for the delay but I sincerely believe that it is cursed and thus to lift that curse I must get it out into the world as quick as possible. So I've essentially split my plan for chapter 4 in half and that remaining second half will be released as chapter 5. Unbeta'd as usual so sorry for any mistakes.

Cross posted to AO3

We’re back again baby! Another chapter for you thirsty hoes. Hopefully in this chapter I’ll finally be screaming into a pillow in pleasure instead of you screaming into one in embarrassment, Belmounte.

Hey, writing that JillxCarlos after a year of not writing smut and SOBER was difficult okay.

Well I’m glad you don’t have to get wasted to write about me getting dicked down. Though I don’t forgive how you ended the previous chapter. And between then and now, September Seventeenth, you did no writing. Bitch your enby ass went to a carnival.

I shot down nine out of ten targets and got three prizes for my efforts. One of the carnies was even surprised by my speed. I got called a cross between you and the Hulk. Very proud of myself.

Bet you are. High praise to get compared to yours truly. Did you guys know that excellent marksmanship is listed as one of my superpowers? And I’m able to lift eight-hundred pounds canonically.

Anyways, let’s not leave the readers waiting any longer.

The main area of the cabin was wrecked, gouges clawed into the walls, floors, bed frame and mattress; smatterings of blood and cum splattered and smeared across various surfaces – even the ceiling; the couch was tipped backwards, the TV smashed on the floor and the coffee table shattered. Not even the kitchen was unscathed with cupboard doors hanging off their hinges, crockery in pieces and the sink filled with dirty plates. On the last days of Logan’s rut things had settled down a bit, the breaks between fucking getting longer but don’t get it twisted, the sex was intense as ever. It also meant that Logan was verbal again, no longer reduced to grunts (hot as that was for Wade) as his instincts were being satiated.

Logan had Wade in a mating press – his knees pinned down by his ears on the shredded mattress, bent in half as Logan straddled his ass – balls deep. Wade was cock drunk, words tumbling out of his mouth unfiltered while Logan’s cock rearranged his guts.

“Fuck Lo- so fucking deep,” the merc babbled between panting moans, clawing at the Alpha’s shoulders, “feels so good. Love your cock. Love you.”

Ah. Shit. He hadn’t meant to say that. That was an inside thought. They hadn’t broached the whole feelings thing since the ‘We Saved The Multiverse’ party months ago. Logan stilled above him, eyes wide and clear of the Rut’s haze, and Wade tensed in response. Shit shit shit shit shit!

“Say… say again, Bubba?” Logan murmured, staring into Wade’s fucking soul.

Wade gulped, looking away from the man above him, “L-love your cock?”

Logan frowned and grasped Wade’s chin forcing him to make eye contact – voice firm, “Not that, Wade. Say. It. Again. Y’know what I want to hear.”

Wade took a deep shuddering breathe, “L-love you.” He squeaked.

Logan gave him a wolfish grin, fangs peaking out as he purred, “Love y’too, mate.”

Oh.

Oh. Wade had read enough Omegaverse to know exactly how significant that last word was. He may or may not have blown his load then and there.

When the Rut had ended, the older mutant had insisted on cleaning up their bodily fluids and dishes during the early hours of the morning. Wade complained the entire time, turned out the TVA owned the cabin. So why in the ever loving fuck did they have to tidy? He was greeted to the rare sight of red dusting Logan’s cheeks as he grumbled about it being bad enough he had wrecked the walls, floors and furniture with his claws, they didn’t need to subject the poor clean up crew to their cum. Which, by the way if you didn’t know, smells bleach? Something Wade came to realise after hours of scrubbing. Luckily the time cleaning gave his Switch enough time to charge for the journey home. Also seeing Logan bent over on his knees in those tight jeans made Wade internally pray to whatever God is listening for a chance at fucking that ass. Sadly, he had that annoying eight hour drive instead.

Mary Puppins yipped and jumped up at Wade’s legs as he and Logan stepped through the door in the evening. Take-out boxes littered several surfaces, and plates and pots were left in the sink. Seemed like the girls hadn’t been too keen on keeping the place tidy in their absence, even with Vanessa’s check ins. Wade picked up Mary who eagerly lapped at his face in greeting as Logan scowled. He immediately set to scooping up the trash to grumpily shove it in the trash can before shrugging off his jacket, rolling up his shirt sleeves and setting to work on the washing up.

“Girlies! We’re home~!” Wade sang.

Blind Al shuffled out of her bedroom, parking herself on her recliner, “’bout damn time you motherfuckers got back. Vanessa just dropped off the rat. Laura’s out. Went for her classes a couple hours ago. Girl can’t do chores to save her life. Felt one bit of wet food while washing the dishes and she completely abandoned them.”

Wade sat on the couch, “See Angel Baby, I told you we need to get the both of you tested for autism.”

Logan only grunted in response as he tried to scrub off a particularly dried-on bit of sauce.

“Yes, yes I know. Pot calling the kettle black because undiagnosed ADHD. The difference here is that they’d try to medicate me which we both know won’t work because I’d metabolise a week’s worth in twenty minutes, so what’s the point?”

“So did you fuckers finally elope? Didn’t exactly explain why you disappeared for a week.” Al asked, feeling around for the remote.

“Oh my dear Althea, to elope we’d have to know we’re in love first. We just had a week long fuckfest and professed our undying love to each other while deep in the throes of passion. No, our elopement will be in a couple weeks time I’m sure.”

Al made a disgusted noise, “Every time you open your mouth, I wonder why I moved in with you.”

Logan dried off his hands and joined Wade on the sofa, arm slung around the merc while petting Mary’s tuft of fur, “Because without us, y’would have to spend y’social security checks on rent instead of gamblin’.”

Wade gasped dramatically, “Took the words right out of my mouth, Honey Badger!” He placed a wet kiss on Logan’s cheek.

Al finally found the remote and flicked on the TV, the beginnings of a Columbo episode appearing on the screen. The three settled in with Wade providing descriptions for Al. All the while the idea of eloping was floating round his head. Logan had already called him mate, surely proposing wouldn’t be that big of a leap. Sure they’d only been together for a few months but what’s that in the face of forever? Fuck it. About an hour later Laura arrived home, slinging her backpack onto the floor and slumping onto the couch beside Logan. Her head came to rest on his shoulder as she sighed in what Wade assumed was contentment.

“How was school, kid?” the elder mutant queried.

“Boring, a lot of things the classes are covering are things I was already taught at the lab. And I’m surrounded by people mostly a decade older than me.” Laura stated with a shrug, “No offence Papi, but I’m not going to ask how Canada was. I feel like I wouldn’t want to know what you and Wade got up to.”

Logan grunted his affirmation and took a swig of Dr Pepper. Where did that come from? He didn’t have that when he joined him on the couch. Did he grab it while Wade was distracted with thoughts of marriage? Again Wade wonders how someone who weighs four to five hundred pounds can be so stealthy.

“Anyone here have the energy to cook? Cause MJ knows I don’t after that car journey.” Wade asked, stealing some of Logan’s drink.

Al looked in Wade’s general direction, the old bat’s echolocation malfunctioning as always, “Michael Jackson?”

“Marvel Jesus you uncultured cretin.”

Logan breathed a long suffering sigh and stood up, passing his drink to Wade and making his way to the kitchen, “Come on kid. ‘Bout time I teach y’some basics.”

“Maybe you could show her how to bake a birthday cake as it’s October Twenty-Eighth as Belmounte is writing this line of dialogue,” Wade suggested off-handedly then turned towards a camera only he could see, “Which means it’s their Twenty-Eighth birthday today. They’ve been very slow in writing this chapter. They started it in early September.”

Logan flipped him off but mostly ignored the merc and pulled out shelf stable ingredients for spaghetti bolognaise. Laura, who had by now gotten used to Wade’s rambling, huffed a laugh. So much like her father.

“Maybe you should encourage them to do a time skip and get a move on then,” She responded before hopping off the sofa to help her Papi.

That night Wade struggled to get to sleep despite being wrapped in hunky tree trunk arms. Sure there were nights were he woke up to the wrong kind of penetration when Logan inevitably had one of his night terrors, but what’s the point of having a healing factor if he can’t stubbornly cuddle the traumatised bastard through it. This was not one of those nights, apparently being a non-stop fuck machine for a week with little sleep lead to sleeping like the dead when it’s over. No what was keeping Wade awake, despite his own personal weighted blanket, were the thoughts of being Mr Wade Winston Wilson-Howlett circling round his brain like a chunky vegetable soup down a drain. Shit he liked the sound off that far too much. Fuck it. He was going to do it. Wade was going to propose to the old timer. Hopefully there’d be no fatal diagnosis to ruin the occasion this time. And shit he’d need something other than a sentimental Voltron ring. Logan was a tad too serious and classy for that.

Wade carefully lifted Logan’s arm off his waist and slipped out of bed, if he was going to do this properly, he’s going to need the other’s ring size. He tiptoed out of their bedroom and down into the spare bedroom – which he had turned into an armoury and costume repair centre. He rifled through the drawers of his desk and pulled out his snail shaped tape measure and a pen then crept back to Logan. After a brief moment of reminding himself which hand was left and which was right, Wade gently wrapped the tape measure around the sleeping man’s ring finger. He jotted the measurement onto the back of his hand then deposited the items in his bedside drawer and crawled back into bed, snuggling back into Logan’s warmth. With his resolve made, the scent of pine trees, cigars, sandalwood and musk which had steadily been growing stronger finally sent him off to sleep.

Come morning, Wade was awoken to Logan placing a kiss on his forehead. He was already dressed in his grease monkey uniform with his backpack slung over a shoulder. God he loved how considerate Logan was, some people would wake up their partners when they woke but no Logan let him lay in, only waking him when he was ready to head out. Wade mumbled his greetings and well wishes, staying awake just long enough to hear Logan return them before promptly falling back asleep as Logan shut the bedroom door behind him. When Wade did actually wake, it was roughly in the afternoon. He stretched out, joints popping and clicking, then rolled out of bed padding barefoot into the kitchen. He scratched at his naked chest, nails catching on the valleys and ridges of his scarring. Laura stood over the stove and flipped the grilled cheese she was making.

“Mornin’ morra. That’s Spanish for ‘kiddo’. Apparently out of all the languages our Wolvie boy can speak, Spanish is not one of them for movie plot convenience.” Wade grabbed himself a bowl and poured in a mix of Lucky Charms and Unicorn Fruit Loops. He wanted to have a theme for the start of his day if his Pinky Pie lounge pants were anything to go by. He added the milk then sat down at their dining table. Look not every meal is had in front of the TV. And it’s useful for board games night.

“Buenas Wade. Any plans for today?” Laura greeted, checking the underside of her sandwich to see if was to her liking.

Wade swallowed his mouthful, “Actually yes, I do and I’ll need your help.”

Laura grunted in satisfaction and transferred her grilled cheese onto a nearby plate, “Who’s the target?”

“Your Papi, I’m going shopping and need your opinion on an engagement ring,” Wade said simply with a shrug.

The ketchup Laura had been artistically serpentining over her sandwich suddenly jetted onto the counter top in an eruption.

“¿Qué? ¿Compromiso? ¿Le propusiste matrimonio a papá en Canadá? ¿O papá te propuso a ti?” Laura took a breath and wiped up the mess with a sponge, “Is that why you went to Canada for a week? Some sort of romantic get away.” Once the counter was clean she joined him at the table.

“Not quite. More like because your Papi is from another universe he has certain biological impulses that he doesn’t want you to be witness to. And while we were away he said a certain word that in his universe pretty much meant he sees me as his life partner. The Brits in the Omegaverse must have it tough cause its a way to address even a complete stranger in slang. How are they supposed to know when their partner is being serious?” Laura stared at him blankly, “Ah, I’ve been side tracked. Whoops. Circling back, I figured, why not y’know? Now seems like a pretty good time to shoot my shot and I rarely miss Mini Wolvie.”

Laura took a bite of her grilled cheese and hummed happily, “And you need my help to choose a ring?”

“Thought it’d a good bonding experience as future step-father and daughter.”

“No pawn shops.”

Wade held up three fingers to his temple, “Scouts honour.”

About two hours later, after Wade got ready to go out in the baggiest hoodie he could find, they found themselves in a small family owned jewellers after nearly every other one turned them away. Seemed like this was the only place willing to work with the adamantium ore Wade had stolen from the TVA when no one was looking. See, the ring had to be adamantium otherwise Logan’s kitty claws would slice through it like a hot knife through butter. But this little independent business agreed with no questions asked as long as Wade was willing to part with a small chunk of cash on top of the asking price for a custom design. A design Laura helped him to settle on, as well as a design for himself. Sadly, with them being custom designs, the proposal would have to wait until the rings were completed. For Laura’s silence until the deed was done, Wade bought her some gelato. As many scoops and flavours as her heart desired. And perhaps he had promised her that she could accompany him on the odd job here and there if she was feeling particularly cooped up or angry.

In the meantime, Wade officially returned to mercenary work. Sister Margret’s was now owned by Buck after Weasel had finally pissed off someone with enough criminal connections to make him leave the country. So Wade would mosey on down to the bar and collect his little gold card with the necessary intel on his target then dispatched of them and any goons. But only if the target was subject to his new moral standards. After all, what would Spiderman do? Kill the unredeemable fucks as long as they weren’t his friend. Seriously, Harry gets Gwen killed and Peter let him live but he kills the Electro for trying to syphon New York’s power supply, how was that fair? All of that and the kid wasn’t even getting paid; unlike Deadpool who was getting enough from each hit to only need to take up a mission about once or twice a week. Which was a good thing because most criminal activity started in the evening when Logan would get home from work, meaning on work nights Wade would not have seen his man for the whole day. That makes for a cranky much more violent and efficient Deadpool who just wanted to get home.

Wade had completed two assignments by the time he got the call to collect the rings. It was a Saturday. Perfect. Logan was at work so he could step out and grab them without worry then Logan had the following day off. Also meant Laura didn’t have classes. Wade threw on one of the iconic flannel shirts owned by his beloved, the lingering scent making his shoulders relax as the tension he hadn’t realised he’d been holding seeped from them. Lately being away from Logan put him on edge. With a quick “See ya” to Al and Laura, Wade clipped Mary’s leash to her collar and caught the subway to a stop that was just a short walk away from his jeweller. Yes, they’re his now because the rings they handed over to him were exactly what he asked for. And fuck it he was going to pull out all the stops for this non-public proposal. Public proposals are a type of manipulation tactic, that is a hill he is very willing to die on. One he nearly did die on with the cancer pre-mutation actually. A quick Google Maps search showed him where the nearest wine merchant was which he made his next stop whilst he was out.

By the time he returned to their apartment, he had a sleeping Mary Puppins under one arm and a bag of various bits and bobs under the other. The items included Cava de Paraje Calificado – also known as the superior Spanish take on Champagne, confetti for Laura and Al to throw, candles and candelabras and the things he needed to put together a very fancy charcuterie board. Setting Mary down in her bed, he unclipped her leash and put the bag on the counter. Wade strode into his room to grab the sound proofing device and handed it to Laura.

“I have about an hour to get everything prepared before Peanut gets home. Take this and go into Al’s room. If he says yes, I’ll text you the all clear and you gals come out with the confetti. If he says no… I’ll uh… take him on a walk or something and text you,” Wade explained, showing her where the power button was on the little machine.

Laura nodded her affirmative, expression serious like she had been given a critical mission – she had lightened up quite a bit now that she wasn’t in constant peril. Al, who had overheard the conversation, started to get up off the couch and gratefully accepted the younger woman’s help to stand.

“How about we continue watching Gilmore Girls? We won’t have those fuckers cynical commentary over it,” Al suggested, patting Laura’s arm affectionately.

Wade pouted, “My critique of Lorelai’s relationships and the example she sets for Rory is valid!”

Laura ignored him.

“Sounds like a plan.”

Wade huffed and got to work on making the living room a cosy den of romance because who the fuck enjoys their spread of meats and cheeses at a fucking dining table? Fucking no one that’s who. He fluffed the throw pillows, fixed the blankets and set out a delicate tablecloth he had picked when buying furniture for their shared home. He inserted his candles into the candelabras and strategically dotted them around the space, only to be lit when there was five minutes before Logan got home. The merc quickly popped into their bedroom to make sure he was ready for any explicit celebration they would surely have in private. Wade then headed into the kitchen and prepared the meats and cheeses. By the time he placed the artfully spread board in the centre of the coffee table, he had just enough time to light the candles and turn of the lights.

Wade stood by the couch, looking towards the front door, and wiped his hands on his thighs. Him, nervous? More likely then you’d have thought. The sound of jingling keys sliding into the lock made his heart skip a beat. This was it. The moment that will determine the path of their relationship. He doubted the rejection would break them, he knew Logan wouldn’t let that be a possibility. But that didn’t stop the queasy roiling in his stomach as the door opened to show a freshly showered Logan – he always showered at work after Wade chewed him out for tracking engine oil into the carpet, it was a bitch to get out. Logan shut the door behind him without turning, his head cocked to the side, brows furrowing in confusion.

“What’s all this, Darlin’? Y’bein’ sent off to take out a politician or somethin’?” Logan half joked, hand cuntily on his hip.

Wade gulped and reached into his pocket before dropping onto one knee. He opened the ring box revealing a total of four round rubies and black sapphires set flush into an adamantium band. Simple in design really but one he knew the older mutant would appreciate. Logan’s jaw fell slack, eyes wide in surprise.

“Logan, I know in the grand scheme of things we’ve only been together for what, five months?” Wade’s voice shook as he spoke, “But these five months have been the best part in my life for the last six years. And I want this for as long as I live. Which as we both know will be forever. In Canada you called me ‘mate’ so I’m pretty sure you want the same thing to. Now sadly, you can’t bite me on the neck and claim me in a bond as you would in your original universe, but in this one we have this little legally binding ceremony called a marriage,” Wade took a deep breathe, “James Logan Howlett, will you marry me?”

Logan closed the distance between them in a few long strides, joining Wade on the floor and cupped his face between his hands, “I know what a marriage is dumbass.” He stated bringing Wade into a scorching kiss that the merc reluctantly pulled away from as Logan chased his lips.

“So is that a ye-”

“Of course it’s a fuckin’ yes.”

Wade squealed in glee and took Logan’s left hand to slide the ring onto his finger. Logan was about to pull him into another kiss but Wade stopped him which made the older mutant growl in protest.

“Hold on, Peanut. There’s one for me too.” Wade fished the other ring box from his back pocket and gave it to Logan, “I’ll let you do the honours.”

Logan opened the box, fingers gently running over its contents. Nestled in red satin was another adamantium band but instead of rubies and black sapphires, it was inlayed with yellow and blue sapphires. He gingerly plucked the ring from it’s cushion as if he was afraid he’d somehow break it and gave it a closer inspection.

“Aren’t they gorgeous? The gems are lab grown, just like us. Did you know rubies and sapphires are made of corundum, just different trace elements resulting in different colour presentation? Oh the tumblr girlies could write paragraphs about the symbolism of these rings.” Wade babbled, needing to fill the silence.

Logan grasped Wade’s hand and slipped the ring onto his finger with a satisfied purr, “Can’t believe you beat me to it, Red.”

He went to pull Wade into a kiss and yet again Wade stopped him, “Wait, wait, wait. Hold your horses, Angel Baby. One, I’d like to share the good news. Two, I have spent the past hour setting up a nice romantic space for us to relax and enjoy. I just know that if you start tongue fucking me now all my efforts will go to waste and our apartment will burn down around us whilst your balls deep.”

That got a laugh from the older man. Logan placed a kiss on his temple and pulled him up to stand with him. Wade quickly shot a message off to Laura.

[💍🎊🎉]

The door to Al’s room was thrown open milliseconds later, Laura barrelling out of the room to tackle the pair into a hug before releasing them and throwing handfuls of confetti over them.

“Congrats, Papi! You better treat each other right.”

Al was slower as she waddled out, using her cane to locate were the trio were huddled. She threw up her confetti and to her credit, most of it went in the correct direction.

“No fucking on the couch you freaks. I don’t care if you are engaged now, that’s still a no cum zone.”

She was met with three different responses:

“Of course not Althea, we’re not animals.”

“¡Ew! ¡No necesitaba esa imagen mental!”

“Oh come on! Can’t we get a pass just this once?”

Three guesses as to who said what.

Wade handed Laura a wad of cash, “How about you, Al and Mary go on a girls night for a couple hours? Papi and I need alone time now.”

Laura made a disgusted noise but nonetheless retrieved Mary, her carrying bag and leash. Al looped her arm through Laura’s free one and shuffled out with her, suggesting they go to her regular bingo hall. Wade had a suspicion Al had a dealer there she was hitting up in secret. She hadn’t shown as many withdrawal symptoms lately. As the door shut behind them, Wade led Logan to sit on the couch and popped the cork on the Cava with baby knife. The cork went flying off and hit the ceiling then ricocheted to God knows where. They’d probably find it cleaning at some point during the week.

“I know we’re trying to be sober at the moment, Peanut, but this is a special occasion so I think we can make an exception for today.” Wade declared, pouring it into the flute glasses he had set out.

He handed the first one to Logan and clinked his against it in a toast as he sat beside him, squirming slightly. Wade grabbed a slice of Stilton and dipped it into one of the chutneys he had bought and popped it into his mouth.

“Oh that fucks,” he moaned and grabbed another piece, dipping it and offering it to his fiance.

Logan leaned forward and took the offering between his lips, teeth grazing over Wade’s fingers, eyes dark even in the candle light. He let out an appreciative hum and Wade’s breathe caught in his throat. Oh, his romantic efforts were going to be wasted weren’t they? Maybe he should’ve waited till after the romantic meal to propose. Wade gulped and reached for a piece of thinly sliced pancetta that had been rolled into a rose shape, only to have his hand playfully slapped away. The rose shaped meat was pressed to his lips, Logan’s eyes trained on them as he opened up to receive the offering. They continued like that, hand feeding each other, until the board was cleared. Their attentions now turned to their forgotten flutes of Cava. Wade couldn’t tell you how it tasted, entirely too distracted by the man beside him that he drained his glass in seconds. That got a chuckle from Logan who had been happily taking his time until his flute also ran empty.

Wade jumped in surprise when Logan stood up with a muttered “I’ll be right back.”

He watched as Logan made his way into their bedroom, heard him open drawers and shuffle things about before shutting them and returning. Logan carefully picked up the candelabra – which had been placed in the centre of the coffee table – and set it aside on a corner table. He took the now empty board into the kitchen and set the bottle of Cava on the floor beside the coffee table. To say Wade was baffled would be an understatement. What on earth was he doing? Cleaning? No if that was the case he wouldn’t put the bottle on the floor. Wade yelped then laughed as Logan lifted him off the couch, span him round then set him down on the coffee table.

“Why the change in seating, Honey Badger?” Wade giggled as he looked up at the other mutant.

Logan shrugged off his shirt, leaving him in his classic white under-shirt and jeans. His tags glistened in the flickering candle light, capturing Wade’s attention as Logan pulled them over his head and retrieved another pair out of his pocket. Wade’s throat went dry. He knew exactly whose those were.

“I found these in y’sock drawer when we were unpackin’. I don’t expect every vet to wear theirs with pride but y’could at least store them somewhere dignified.” He said, dangling Wade’s tags in front of him.

Wade shrugged and tried to keep his voice steady, feigning nonchalance, “Dishonourable discharge from the Special Forces. Not exactly my proudest moment.”

“I was quite glad to have found them. Meant I could do this.” Logan slipped his tags over Wade’s head, making the merc shiver when the cold steel slipped under the flannel collar and met his bare skin. He grasped Wade’s palm and placed his tags in his open palm. “Now y’do the same to me.” Logan leant forward and Wade did as instructed, giving him a peck on the lips as he did so. “This was how I wanted to claim y’, when the time was right. But y’just steam rolled ahead as y’always do.” His lips quirked into a smile that Wade could only describe as fond, no bite behind his words.

“If this is all you wanted to do, why did you sit me here? Could’ve stayed nice and comfy on the couch,” Wade asked, wrapping his arms around Logan’s shoulders.

Logan gave him that fucking wolfish grin, the one that caused his little fangs to glint in the flicking glow of the surrounding candles, “I believe we were forbade from fuckin’ on the couch. Althea said nothin’ about the coffee table bein’ a ‘no cum zone’, Princess.”

Wade moaned, his hands eagerly tugging Logan’s under-shirt up and over his head, “Oh you are an animal. Can the wedding be next week? Need you to wife me up ASAP.”

Logan shucked off his boots, jeans and boxers leaving him almost as naked as the day he was born were it not for his socks, which he had elected to ignore in favour of undoing the zipper of Wade’s pants. Wade lifted his hips So Logan could shimmy them down to his thighs while he followed the other mutant’s lead and shrugged off his – Logan’s – flannel. Logan’s hands froze on Wade’s muscular thighs, pupils pinned as his gaze was firmly locked onto the deep red thong that was doing a shit job at covering Wade’s raging hard on. A low rumble emanated from Logan.

“Does my big bad Wolvie like?”

Logan nodded, seemingly unable to form words as he fell to his knees – taking Wade’s pants the last of the way down with him – to mouth at the material on scarred hips. Wade instinctually threaded a hand into Logan’s hair when sharp teeth pinged the material against his skin.

“How do you want this Angel Baby? From the front, the back, cowgirl, pretzel, wheelbarrow, caboose, butter churner? I have a lot more ideas where those came from if you don’t like them. Oh! Would you like the panties to stay on or come off?”

Logan chuckled, trailing his tongue over Wade’s cratered abs, “Hmmm, I’ll keep those suggestions in mind for when we take this to our room. Right now though, where’s the fuckin’ lube?”

Wade let go of Logan’s hair to point over to a drawer in the corner table that he had moved the candles to. Logan turned, fishing it out with a triumphant grunt and wasted no time in popping the cap off to smother his fingers. With his free hand he hooked Wade’s thong to the side. Wade jolted when he felt two cold wet fingers circle his rim before pressing in. He tensed at first but Logan’s subtle scent of of pine trees, cigars, sandalwood and musk seemingly intensified and mixed with something heady making Wade relax. It was like even his smell could issue commands.

“Y’ve become so soft and pliant for me, Darlin’. Didn’t think that was possible with how tight y’were during the start of my Rut.”

“I thought my healing factor reset things like that,” Wade moaned, “All those months of you fingering my ass and I was tight as ever, but you get your cock in and suddenly you have an all access entry pass.”

Logan crocked his fingers and began thrusting and scissoring them inside the merc. Wade wiggled and squirmed on the table, Logan was so close to brushing against his prostate, just needed him to go that little bit deeper. The older mutant used his free hand to hold down Wade’s hips, stopping him from moving, and smirked. Wade groaned in frustration. That teasing fuck was doing it on purpose. Wade grasped Logan’s hair again and tugged Logan down into a slow yet demanding kiss. Four-hundred pounds of adamantium skeleton and relaxed muscles rested on top of him, the coffee table creaked in protest making Wade break away with a chuckle.

“Sorry Honey Badger, I think the table can’t support you. Guess we can’t have you on top of me like this- ah!”

Logan chose that moment to slip in a third finger and nail his prostate dead on, making Wade gasp for air, “We’ll make do.”

Logan’s scruff tickled his jaw as he trailed kisses and nips down his neck, continuing passed his collar bones on an oh so slutty path towards one of Wade’s nipples. Wade whined as Logan mouthed at the still surprisingly sensitive nub while his fingers continued to tease his prostate and stretch him out. Precum leaked from his twitching cock in a constant stream on to his cratered abs and against Logan’s stomach through the red lace where it was trapped. A particularly harsh nibble from Logan’s fangs had Wade groaning like the masochistic little whore he was as blood beaded up from the short-lived wound. Blood that was swiftly lapped up and smeared across to his other scar covered nipple to give it the exact same treatment. A forth finger slid in, Wade’s last shred of patience snapped as the stretch threatened to send him over the edge, heat rapidly building in his gut.

“Logan. Fuck- Enough foreplay. Need- ha- Need you. Gonna cum.”

Logan broke away with a wet pop, a trace of crimson on his smirking lips as he retracted his fingers. He placed Wade’s legs over his shoulders and raised to standing. The Alpha lined up his cock with Wade’s slick hole, “Not yet. Where can my mate cum?”

Wade tried to push onto him but a hand on his hip kept him in place. Not to mention the angle made it awkward. Reverse wheelbarrow, both a blessing and a curse. He keened in frustration and gave Logan the answer he knew he was waiting for, “On your dick.”

“Attaboy.”

Logan slid down to the root in one hard precise thrust that sent Wade careening over the edge, taut like a strung bow, his load shooting hot down his chest, neck and onto Logan’s dog tags with a punched out cry.

“That’s it Princess, just like that. Such a good boy for me,” Logan praised, a hand going to Wade’s still hard – Thank you healing factor –cock to wring the last dribbles of spend from him.

Sparks of oversensitivity bolted through his nerves, making him flinch and wriggle away from the touch. Wade’s eyes rolled back as Logan’s scent washed over him, once again lulling his muscles to relax. The Alpha withdrew until just his tip remained inside and thrust back in, hitting just a deep, setting a slow and deliberate pace. Breathy little “ah ah”s escaped from Wade every time he felt the bulbous head of Logan’s cock bumped against his prostate.

“Y’ve got another one in y’ for me don’t y’?” Logan cooed down to him.

Come on Wade, you’ve only gotten started, you can’t be reduced to a moaning mess already. The merc thought to himself.

“F-F-Faster.”

Wade reached behind him, gripping the table’s edge to stop him from sliding off it thanks to the table cloth. It creaked in protest beneath him, its rocking speeding up as Logan gripped Wade’s hips with both hands to pull the him into his thrusts. Wade crossed his ankles behind Logan’s head, tightening his hole around the Alpha and dragging a low moan from the both of them at the pressure. Fingers reached down to trail through the cooling cum on his chest, near enough folding Wade in two, the cock inside him hitting impossibly deeper. Wade looked down and saw those same fingers wrapped back around his cock slick and sticky and a very noticeable bulging in his stomach. That shouldn’t be physically fucking possible. Wade threw his head back with a whine, pleasure bleeding through his senses from both sides, overwhelming him too fast yet again. For fuck’s sake Wade is meant to be a good shot not a quick shot. Logan didn’t look like he would last much longer either, sweat beading in his hair line, breathing harsh as he stared down at where they were joined with pupils blown wide.

“Bet y’ would’ve taken my knot so well. So perfect for me. Love how well you take it. Need you to come again for me, Darlin’” Logan growled out before turning his head to sink his fangs into the meat of Wade’s calf.

The sharp sting of pain was what he needed to push him through the overstimulation and into his next orgasm, his vision going hazy as tears welled up and spilled over with his release which caught his cheek and the table this time. His nails scratched against the table cloth, tearing holes into it. He could distantly hear the wail he let out barely registering that it was him making that noise. Warmth flooded inside him as Logan buried himself as deep as possible, head falling back with his own porn worthy moan. Time slowed to a crawl. They stayed like that as they came down from their releases, catching their breath.

Eventually Logan gently lowered Wades legs to rest around his hips as he came to a kneel on the floor once more. Wade watched in a daze as the older man reached down to the Cava which had miraculously remained upright during their romp. Logan drank from the bottle directly in long gulps, Wade’s gaze fell to his throat, transfixed by the bobbing of his Adam’s apple, his own mouth suddenly feeling parched.

“Save some for me,” he breathed, voice scratchy.

Logan licked his lips, something mischievous flickered in his eyes as he raised a brow. He took a final swig and placed the bottle back down. Leaning down, he slotted his lips over Wade’s. Wade eagerly accepted what he thought was just a kiss but soon felt liquid slip into his mouth.

Logan pulled back with a grin, “That what y’wanted?”

Wade hummed in satisfaction and reached to pull his man back down. Just as their lips were about to meet once more, Logan swiftly turned his head and licked a stripe across the cum on Wade’s cheek.

“We’re not done yet Bubba. We’re just going to take this somewhere more comfortable.”

Logan pulled out, dragging a needy whine from Wade who was not emotionally ready for the empty feeling. So he was becoming clingy with his partner, sue him. You haven’t experienced the Wolverpeen and it’s life altering affects. As quickly as the emptiness settled in, Logan had scooped him up into a princess carry, long strides making short work of the walk to their bedroom. Wade was gently placed onto their shared bed.

“Wait right here, I’m going to tidy real quick. That thong better be off before I come back otherwise I’m tearing it off,” Logan instructed.

Wade saluted, “Sir, yes sir. Just so you know the Sonic Orb™ is in Al’s room bee tee dubs.”

My my, you finally finished the sex scene, why did that take you two whole months?

The curse. The readers saw my quick update but since then it seems trying to write this bit was really cursed. Minor injuries said my back injury would be fine after about two weeks but lo and behold even a month later that fucker was still giving me grief. And my fucking boiler broke man! What the actual fuck?

Yikes. Definitely don’t want to be you. Welp let’s get a move on. Come on. Can’t lift the curse until you finish what you started. Oh and reader, that thong got torn off.

Wade decided to take a week off from work – the upside of being your own boss – to celebrate their engagement. Took the girls out for a family meal, which was also a kind of apology meal for Laura and her sweet little nose. He may have forgotten about her sense of smell when her dad was fingering him. And obviously they announced the glorious news to the extended family (Vanessa and Co) which led to Buck shutting St Margaret’s for the day so celebrations could be held there. Of course, now that Wade had bagged Logan with a promise to be life partners, he couldn’t keep his hands off him when they were alone together. So it felt like a self-imposed torture when Wade returned to work.

It was meant to be a simple job to clear scumbags out of a warehouse near some remote forests up-state. Easy in and out that wasn’t too far from home. And to ease his newly acquired separation anxiety, he had one of Logan’s under shirts stashed away in one of his pouches which he had nabbed from the laundry basket before it could be washed. In fact, he had been trying to delay doing the laundry just so Logan’s scent lingered in their room for longer, it made him feel more at peace. But never mind that, back to the mission.

Deadpool picked the lock to the warehouse successfully, creeping through the halls to try and find the head honcho’s office. If he cut the head of the serpent first this whole thing would probably go a lot easier. However, when was luck ever on his side? He’s not Domino and he didn’t have her bullshit not power. The first door he tried triggered a fucking alarm. A quick glance around the room clued him into why it was alarmed, different limbs and organs stashed in jars on industrial shelving. This was either mutant related or human/organ trafficking, not good.

Deadpool heard a gun firing just in time to barely dodge, the bullet grazing his shoulder. He hissed at the scratch that quickly healed over, quickly unsheathing Baby Knife from his boot and flinging it into the nameless goons forehead. He didn’t know how many of these fuckwards there were here so no point in using his guns yet until he had thinned the herd a little. Deadpool retrieved Baby Knife and ran down an adjoining corridor, the thumping of multiple pairs of boots not far behind him. He needed distance and space if he was going to fight more than one dickhead at a time. Corridors weren’t very good if you wanted to dual wield katanas.

They must’ve had some sort of walkie talkie system since a lone bastard was running towards him with a knife. Idiot. You don’t bring a knife to a sword fight unless its to sneakily jab your enemy. Deadpool drew one of his golden girls (That’s what I call my katanas.) and twirled away from the incoming slash to respond in kind with a flourish. The goon collapsed to the ground, blood spraying everywhere in his decent as his head rolled away wetly.

“If the walls were white someone might mistake this for a children’s hospital,” Deadpool cackled, “Oh colour theory.”

He knew he should’ve staked out the operation before barging in but that would’ve meant spending more time away from home. And he was in no state to do. As Deadpool aimlessly zigzagged through the halls, cutting down approaching goons as he went, he felt his temperature rising. He was really starting to work up a sweat. He caught a few good shots as well, the bastards. Deadpool eventually staggered a large loading bay and a metal staircase leading up to an overhead office space. The light was on and he could just make out a figure moving about in there.

Bingo.

Deadpool leaped over the guardrail and took the steps two at a time. With the momentum he had built up he shoulder barged through the metal door and locked it behind him.

“Who the fuck are you?!” The balding man in a white suit yelled in a southern accent, pulling out a gun.

Deadpool held up a finger as he hunched over, trying to catch his breath. Fuck something was wrong. His temperature was still rising and his legs felt unsteady. He stood as tall as he could.

“Someone who needs your head to get paid. Goodbye bad guy number two-hundred-and-forty-seven,” He declared, trying to sound intimidating and hoping his voice wasn’t shaking.

Before the man could open fire Deadpool had whipped out his own pistol and shot him in the knee causing him to drop to the floor in agony. Deadpool climbed on top of his writhing form and, with his katana lined up nice and cleanly between his intended victims neck vertebra, sliced through ligaments, tendons and muscle to detach his reward. Banging on the door got his attention, the goons were trying to get in. Shit, can’t he get a moment to recuperate? Looking round, Deadpool spotted furniture he could barricade himself in with. He was in no state to try and make a daring escape. With maximum effort Deadpool pushed and dragged cupboards and a desk in front of the metal door.

Wade yanked off his masked and collapsed to the floor against some drawers, gasping for air, it felt so stuffy. He fished his phone out of a pouch and immediately called Logan who was quick to pick up.

“Logan,” he panted, “Something’s wrong with me. I’ve blocked myself in the head office but I’ve got fuck-os trying to get in. I need evac now.”

“I’ll head out now, text me the location. Hang on tight, Princess.” Came Logan’s voice from the device, low and reassuring.

“My knight in yellow armour.”

Wade promptly hung up to send his location. With a sigh, he leaned back and just tried to relax despite the people trying to break in to kill him. They wouldn’t be successful in murdering him but their attempts wouldn’t exactly be pleasant, especially with how run down he was beginning to feel.

And that’s when he felt it. A trail of slick running down his thighs emanating from his hole.

“Fuck.”

What no Logan segment?

Next chapter will be entirely his POV don’t fret. All shall be fair.

And that cliffhanger?

Mwahahahaha!

[scarlct-vvitch]

fic preview :)

pairing: (worst)wolverine/deadpool

just the first lil section under the cut! not completed yet but i'll take any thoughts while I chug away at the rest of it

The first night in Wade and Althea’s (who Logan refuses to call Blind Al, what the fuck, Wade) apartment is chaos. Wade, high on saving the world and, somehow, cocaine, invites everyone he can think of. Negasonic, Yukio, Laura, Dopinder, Vanessa, even Peter—they all show up and throw a near-end-of-the-world bash. The apartment barely can contain the two people who live there, and they squish in like sardines.

Logan sees immediately how comfortable they all are in Wade’s space. They tease, laugh, make idle threats to kill each other over the last cookie in the tupperware Yukio brought with her. Everyone takes turns carrying the uglyass dog around to make sure she doesn’t get stepped on, all cooing over her misshapen face like it’s fun to look at. It’s that tiny little picture brought to life before his eyes.

It’s completely overwhelming.

Logan spends most of it in one of their dining room chairs downing a steady stream of cheap beer. Laura spends most of the night in the chair opposite with a few drinks of her own. She even gets him to try one and laughs when his face scrunches up from the sugar. For the most part, though, she lets them sit in silence, something he’s grateful for. It gives him time to observe the rest of them. If he’s being honest with himself, though—and he rarely is, but this one is hard to deny—his eyes only follow one figure.

He gets it, now. Why Wade was willing to do so much for these people. When Wade gave him all those speeches about how much he loves them, Logan understood on an objective level, but in the back of his mind he thought Wade was just like him, an outsider trying desperately to hold on to any scrap of decency he could get. Wade was insane and violent and annoying. Even if he saved the world, who would ever stick around to hang out with him?

Now, seeing Wade with his friends, he’s willing to admit he was wrong. 

Wade is everywhere. He flies around the tiny space like—not a social butterfly, but maybe an extroverted gnat. He’s in everyone’s conversations, refilling everyone’s drinks, stuffing his face with snacks. There’s a look on his face that Logan hasn’t seen before. It takes him a while to realize what it is.

It’s relief. The knee-wobbling, delirious, giddy kind. Wade is almost painfully happy to have these people around him and alive and staying that way for a long, long time. It’s contagious; everyone he talks to gets that same smile, like there’s nowhere they’d rather be than in this matchbox of an apartment. He watches as Wade tells the story of their adventure for the tenth time, this time to Yukio and Negasonic in the kitchen, who are enraptured and disgusted, respectively. Wade gestures wildly the entire time, very nearly knocking everything off the counter behind him. That grin is still on his face.

“You’re smiling.”

It’s Laura. He’d kind of forgotten she was there. He takes a pull of his beer instead of answering, realizes that it’s almost empty.

“He’s weird, isn’t he?” Laura says to his silence. “Deadpool.”

Logan snorts. “That’s one word for it.”

She grins. “He’s nice, though, too. Don’t you think?”

He looks over at her. She’s pointedly keeping her eyes on Wade, but the look on her face is far too knowing for Logan’s liking. She’s sharper than he initially gave her credit for; it’s hard to believe someone that smart was related to him, even if tangentially. “Maybe if someone stitched that mouth shut.”

She rolls her eyes. “Then he wouldn’t be fun. You wouldn’t like him anymore.”

Logan watches as Wade ramps up to the end of the story—he’s making big explosion noises with his mouth. He suddenly catches Logan’s eye, like he could feel himself being watched, and without missing a beat, he winks. Logan needs something stronger than his beer.

“Who says I like him now?”

-

At some point between midnight and the sun rising, everyone makes their way out. The apartment looks like a tornado tore through it. Logan nudges some of the empty cups out of the way, puts his feet up on the coffee table, and tilts his head back on the couch, closing his eyes. He has never been so tired in his entire life.

Something fabric hits him in the face. He grunts and looks around to find Wade staring at him. “You look like shit, sugar-tits. Go to bed.”

Wade jerks his head in the direction of his own bedroom and waggles his eyebrows. The implication is clear enough.

“The couch is fine,” Logan says. He picks up the clothes from his lap - it’s a pair of sweatpants, dark red.

Wade pouts. “But—”

“No,” Logan grunts. He’s too tired to come up with anything else.

“Well, if you change your mind, my ungrateful peanut, my door’s always open.” Wade blows him a kiss with his free hand. Logan ignores it and heads for the bathroom to change.

Wade is gone when he comes back out, bedroom door cracked slightly open. Logan stretches out on the too-small couch. His feet stick out over the arm, but he doesn’t even care—being horizontal is heaven. It’s customary that the savior of the world gets to couch-surf for at least one night. He can worry about finding a new place to stay in the morning.

-

He wakes to someone bumping into his feet; he jerks upright and nearly decapitates Althea. He puts his claws away and mutters an apology.

“Wouldn’t have happened if you’d just used the pullout bed.” She sighs. “One day I’ll meet one of those mutants with a brain, but not today.”

Logan stares. “The what?”

-

Wade sleeps in, so Logan makes breakfast at Althea’s request. He’s not a great cook, but he’s passable. Wade finally emerges just as he’s setting down plates of scrambled eggs and makes an obscene noise at Logan “looking domesticated,” which nearly gets him claws to the dick. 

The day is blissfully uneventful. The four of them lounge around the apartment watching some terrible dating show, only getting up for food, bathroom, or to take Mary Puppins around the block. Logan is naturally quiet, but Wade seems to not even understand the concept. He chatters the entire time about anything and everything and ignores all of Logan’s threats of violence if he doesn’t shut the fuck up. 

It’s more peaceful than any day Logan has had in the past year. Past decade, maybe. He soaks it in as much as he can. He must doze off at some point; before he knows it, it’s dinnertime, and then he’s extending the pullout bed (thanks for the heads-up on that one, Wade) and conking out. 

He’ll leave tomorrow, surely.

(hoping that giving this fic an audience gives me the motivation I need to get it over the finish line. thanks for reading :) )

[trixter-god]

The bat and the wolverine

(!!!working draft!!!)

Parings: Original character x Logan Howlett, Original character x Bruce Wayne, Logan Howlett x Bruce Wayne, Original Character x Logan Howlett x Bruce Wayne (eventually)

Summary: Starr (Trix) Baker-Foley better know as The Trixter was like many mutants living within the safety of Charles Xavier’s school for the gifted. A job that kept her busy and job that drove her crazy. Funny how trying to teach an art class for gifted teenagers was harder than trying to save the world. So sometimes she needed an escape. Somewhere only she knew about and only she could get too. A whole different universe.

warnings/tags. 18+ (eventually), fluff, angst, smut (maybe), canon typical violence, cursing/profanity, romance, open relationships, two boyfriends, jealousy, pining, slow burn, lovers to strangers, enemies to unliking friends to lovers, (More will be added)

Chapters (tbd)

Words (so far) 691

An: currently flying by the seat of my pants here. Sorry for any spelling mistakes or grammatical errors. (no beta we die like Jason Todd) This is just a small dabble into the story I want to tell and I’m looking for any and all feedback/interest to make me actually sit down and give this the time and attention it deserves.

About Trix’s x-gene/powers:

Has the powers of reality manipulation. She can change her surroundings, people, things, etc. to whatever she wants. (Think the scarlet witch, unoriginal I know) Powers works better with smaller areas and only a handful of people at a time. She could change a room but not the whole mansion

Also has the powers of dimensional teleportation but she can only teleport herself and nothing else.

Her powers don’t work well out of her “original universe” but she is still able to use them in small doses.

Selfish, she was being selfish. That’s what Jean had said to her when Starr tried to see her own boyfriend. Boyfriend was a strong word. It made a lump form in her throat. She punched a bit harder against her target. A small hum of praise was thrown in her direction which only made her mind slip again. Thinking back to a familiar hum in her ears.

Logan left. Disappeared for months. No. A year. It shouldn’t affect her like it did. Starr barely dodged the sharp skillful right hook thrown in her direction. Logan was known for slipping out at night. Leaving for a good couple of weeks but he’d come back. He always came back. Like a stray, crawling back into her bed. The sad part was she’d let him. Even now.

A foot connected with the back of her knee as she lost her balance falling against the rubber mat with a growl. She doesn’t get up like she normally would just laid there in her own frustration.

“You're not focused.” A calm voice broke through the storm that was her mind for a moment, bringing her back to the present.

Bruce.

Calm, gentle, calculated, paranoid, mind numbing. She could keep going but instead Starr flipped over against that black mat staring up at the high cave ceiling catching her breath.

Bruce let out a hum again. This time it was one of questions as he looked her over. Questions he’d never actually ask, probably knowing the answers already. Starr could feel that sharp icy gaze against her skin, it made a shiver run through her. She shrugged it off by tearing off the protective wrapping from her knuckles, throwing it forgetfully across the floor.

“I’m done.” She mumbled, rubbing the sweat from her forehead. Bruce didn’t respond. His always light footsteps stopped next to her making his imposing figure stand in her field of vision. He was analyzing, it made her scrunched up her nose.

“Stop that.”

“I’m not doing anything.” His voice level.

Fucking ass

“You know what I mean.”

He did. Always seemed he was the only one. Well besides Logan. Her fists balled up unconsciously, a moment Bruce noted.

His well sculpted yet abused body sunk down sitting crisscrossed at her side.

Those trademarked Wayne blues still made her skin crawl until her own eyes locked with his. Like the Atlantic meeting the Pacific.

A light touch of his knuckles brushing against her side in a way that was asking for a window. Starr let out a deep sigh closing her eyes thinking that would clear her elegant like memory. It never did.

“I’m being… emotional again.” She had to take a pause to find the right words. Those knuckles turned into fingertips pressing small circles into her sore side. Bruce nodded, not needing any actual explanation from her.

Starr’s eyes finally opened again after a long tense silence. Her head tilted is just enough to finally look at that unforgettably sharp jawline. Sweat stuck to his body in a thin sparkling sheet. He mindlessly pushed her dark hair from his face. It was longer than he’d like it, something she would probably have to fix once he remembers who lives behind the mask. She didn’t want to admit how badly she wanted to just reach up and give it a tug. Maybe distract herself from that man who didn’t even want to put a label on what they were with the one who’s patiently waiting for her to do the same. Starr swallowed that back down instead letting her hand trace over one of deeper scars across his leg.

“I can have Duke cover your route.” Bruce’s voice broke the well crafted silence. The soothing motions on her side stopped making her want to press against him.

“No, I’m fine.”

He nodded with some hesitation. It was a losing game to argue with her as stubborn as she was.

“Shower?” He suggested instead.

It was Starr’s turn to nod.

“Together?” Her voice raised up teasing, which was met with the smallest twitch in the corner of the dark knight's mouth.

“Together.” He agreed.