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kindled-soul · 1 year ago

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NOSTALGIA

As you mature and gain new experiences, improving yourself as you go, your work gets better and better. You learn from the past and use this knowledge to make a better present that paves the way for a better future.

What value, then, do old works have when asked to choose between it and its more current counterparts?

In an impossible place, at an impossible time, a creator and their creation meet…

Why do people create things?

What drives them?

What benefit is there in creating and sharing?

Is it for themselves? For other people?

To please a superior? To reach a deadline?

How does one transcribe their most intimate feelings into their creations?

What makes them so comfortable to share their vulnerability?

Or does it mean nothing at all? Is it all just flowery words?

There might exist a reality where concepts and ideas are given physical life. They breathe, just like any other human. They have personalities, if you wish to acknowledge the embodiment of a concept as such. They walk, talk, and feel. They laugh, cry, play, fight, rage, despair, yet also forgive, love, and care. They live. They know who their creators are, of course. After all, they are alive because of these humans. However, none of them feel the need to ever meet their creators. No, that’s ridiculous. What purpose is there to meet their creators? They are content to simply live with each other, never once meeting the humans they owe their existence to. It’s not like those humans know about them, anyway.

This is how the oldest of a group of 13 sisters has lived. Formally named as Pentagon, simply called Penny by the others, she is the first of the albums from a Korean boy group called PENTAGON, her namesakes. She has guided the first 3 that came after her, teaching them what she knows and paving the way for them to find their own path. Nowadays, having such a large gap between her and the younger ones, she is content to be on the sidelines and watch the new albums be guided by those that came before.

Penny has never wished for more, never needed for less.

She is satisfied.

If you had the chance to meet your creator, what would you say?

What would you ask?

Would it be hard to believe these questions never crossed her mind before? Not once has she thought about confronting those responsible for her existence. What is there to gain? She exists, she lives, and, for better or worse, there is nothing more to be done about it.

And yet…

Penny walks in an expanse of white. If she were to stand still for a few minutes, it would be easy for her to lose track of what is right-side up. She can’t quite remember how she got here. One minute she was walking around in the mall downtown, the next she blinked and is now walking in this void. Although, she doesn’t feel dead, so it can’t be the afterlife. Did she enter a forbidden place in the mall? ‘I’ll never hear the end of it from Sunny if this is somehow one of those dreaded Backrooms…’

She doesn’t walk alone, though. Somehow, beside her walks along a man (a real human?) twice her height. He’s dressed very casually, a t-shirt, jeans, and rubber shoes. It’s as if he’s merely taking a stroll in a park. He looks ahead, face neutral, and hums quietly to himself. His hands stay in his pant pockets, only leaving when the man decides to adjust his shirt every now and then.

Their footsteps echo softly around them, filling in the deafening silence of the white space. Neither of them have spoken to each other, only giving each other a glance at the start before quickly looking away and walking forward.

Although Penny only got a quick glimpse of what the man looks like, she knows for sure that the man beside her is one of her creators. Lee Hoetaek, simply known as Hui, the leader of PENTAGON, one of Penny’s writers, walks beside her in the vastness of nothing. This man is one of the people responsible for the birth of all of PENTAGON’s albums except for those made during his enlistment period (although strangely, Fiona doesn’t apply to this).

Penny still remembers how the boys were like when she first came to be. Ambitious, hopeful, eager to prove themselves.; they were young and filled with dreams. The man beside her now seems so different from the boy of the past. ‘He’s grown so much. 7 years is really such a long time,’ Penny wonders how much the others have also grown.

After a while, Penny pulls on her hoodie’s sleeves. How long have they been walking? Is time even a thing here? Her chest feels a little too tight, hands a little too restless. Will they keep walking aimlessly forever? Is there an end to this white space? She looks around her. There’s no telling how far they’ve walked now, if they have ever left their place of origin at all. Should she say something? What does she even ask?

This could all be just a very vivid dream. Perhaps she already made it home for the night. Everything feels so…real, though, for it to simply be a dream. Then again, if all this is just a dream, what does she have to lose in talking to Hui?

Penny opens her mouth, feeling her voice disappear. She stops and clears her throat, consciously avoiding Hui now stopping and staring down at her.

“How’s…,” her voice cracks and Penny wishes the void spontaneously summons a black hole. Still, she pushes through, “how’s everything? …with everyone?”

She hears rather than sees Hui shifting on his feet. He hums a bit before replying, “..what?”

Penny’s face cringes at their current interaction. Talking with others should come naturally to her. She stands up straighter and faces Hui, actually looking at his face for the first time. He looks even more tired now, but his eyes seem to have not lost their bright, ambitious glow, still so alive after some time. It feels weird, to see a grown man in the place of the hopeful young boy she grew accustomed to. Something squeezes in Penny’s chest. “How’s PENTAGON? How’s…everyone been? It’s been, well, it’s been seven years for me now.”

Penny isn’t too sure how everything works here. Does Hui understand what she is? If this is her own dream, perhaps he does. On the off chance this isn’t, well this would be very hard to explain. He doesn’t seem to be confused about what's going on, though. Maybe he is at least aware that this isn’t the same world he knows of.

Hui stares at her, what he’s looking for she can’t tell. He lets out an embarrassed chuckle and rubs his neck, eyes looking off to the side. He sucks in a breath through his teeth, “It’s been…a lot of things. Wow, seven years? It’s…a long story.”

He didn’t question her about anything she said. Humming, Penny turns back forward and takes a few steps forward. She looks back up at him, “We have time,” head nodding to the path forward.

He looks at her, to the space in front of them, and releases a breath. Shrugging, he starts up his pace again, “I guess we do.” Penny follows along beside him, both of them looking forward as they walk.

And so, Hui talks. Penny makes no move to interrupt him, despite already knowing the group updates from talking to the younger albums. She lets him tell the story from his perspective, as the person who had to live through all the times, even adding about things that happened outside of official PENTAGON business.

Hui talks about many things.

Their debut showcase; Their first concert; Their subsequent comebacks; The group's status as self-producing idols; The rise and success of Shine; Hyojong and Hyuna's situation; Their first comeback without Hyojong; The mess that came after that; PRISM World Tour; Jinho's enlistment stage; The two comebacks without Jinho; Their first win, four years after debut; His own enlistment time; In:vite U, the one comeback without him; Hongseok's enlistment situation; Each member's participation in survival shows; Everyone's individual projects, like Kino's Pose; Dorm life; Status on the younger members; His burden and anxieties as the leader; Universe; Their latest Japanese comeback

The contract renewal period. The younger members’ departure from CUBE.

Penny tenses the most at the last topics. Logically, she knew the boys had a time limit hanging above their heads, but it felt like it was so far into the future all those years ago. A selfish part of her thought that they would always make music together until they physically couldn’t anymore. They were so hopeful and bright-eyed way back when they first debuted. Penny didn’t want any of that to change.

Is she being unreasonable for being the tiniest bit bitter at the younger line for leaving? Maybe. After all, they said they left CUBE, not PENTAGON (though the line they walk is very fragile and dangerous). It hurts to not know how Yanan’s doing, though. Penny can only hope everyone around him treats him well.

She never thought that anyone would actually leave unless forced to by the management, much less the boys who promised each other forever.

But she can’t control their fates. She can only hear about it happening.

“I think…that should be up to speed, except of course all the other individual schedules the members have,” Hui finishes.

They walk in silence once again. Penny allows herself this time to process all Hui told her. Seven years sounds long in theory, but feels so fast. And yet, hearing all of this from Hui, a lot of things really has happened to them. Penny bites her lip and looks down at Hui’s shoes, “...but were you all happy?”

Hui hums, thinking about it for a few seconds. “I know they were. It was hard for everyone, but they all seem happy now.”

“How’ve you been, then?”

“Well, I’ve been ok. I’ll admit there've been some good and bad times, but I wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world. God knows how much I missed them when I was in Boys Planet.”

Penny lifts her gaze to look at Hui’s eyes. He must have sensed her stare as after only a few seconds, he looked down to meet her own gaze. “But are you happy, after everything?” Penny asks.

Hui looks back forward, seemingly lost in thought. After a while, he nods his head, looking back down at Penny, “yes, I am. I don’t think I’ll ever find better brothers to love this deeply.”

Penny nods her head and looks back forward, continuing their walk in silence.

If you had the chance to meet your creator, what would you say?

What would you ask?

Penny never had those thoughts cross her mind before. It was simply impossible and worthless.

But she’s here now, walking with Hui. Even if this is a dream, wouldn’t this be the closest interaction she has with him?

She thinks about what she would ask Hui, something substantial. She almost gives up until a question forces itself in her mind, getting caught in her throat. Her stomach briefly falls. Would this really be worth asking? She desperately tries to find something else to say, but her one question keeps hammering in her heart.

Defeated, Penny quietly sighs and opens her mouth, “...Hui?”

The man lets out a curious hum.

“You…you’re finally allowed to release your own songs, right? Release your own albums and all. So what do you think about the ones you didn’t produce?”

Hui tilts his head to the side, eyebrows furrowed. “Didn’t produce…for PENTAGON, you mean?”

“Yeah, of course, for PENTAGON,” Penny clears her throat. Her nerves start rising up. It feels suffocating. “Like me. Five Senses. Ceremony. You know, the first ones, when that company didn’t allow much freedom for you guys yet. What do you…think about us?”

Hui’s mouth forms an O and he hums again, “I don’t hate you, if that’s your concern. I think you guys are fine.”

‘“Don’t hate” doesn’t necessarily mean “like” either,’ the pit in Penny’s stomach only grew deeper. ‘Isn’t this enough? Wasn’t this what she wanted?’ The dread inside her clings to her heart, behind her eyes, inside her lungs. Penny steps in front of Hui, causing both of them to stop walking. She looks up at him, fists holding the sides of her hoodie, “so then it’s fine if people listen to us?”

Hui looks more lost, not understanding the reasoning for Penny’s questions, “why wouldn’t it be?”

Penny takes a deep breath. “Unis don’t include us in streaming parties, and I get it. It’s more helpful to you if they stream songs produced by you guys. I promise I’m not mad about that. I get it…” Penny’s eyes fall to the side, hands rubbing together.

Hui slightly leans down, trying to catch her eyes, “...but?”

“But I…I wanted to know…what you think. You know, you’ve produced so many things. You probably don’t have the time and care to think about the ones you don’t produce and that’s perfectly fine. It’s fine. I’m fine with it. You’re only human. There’s only so much you can focus on at a time. I just wish- just wanted to know what…we are to you. You know, we’re part of your discography forever but we’re not fully produced by you guys. What are we…what am I to you?”

Do you hate me because you weren’t allowed to produce your own debut album? Do I bring back bad memories of what you had to go through just to debut? How do you see me? Or is this why you never think about me? There’s so much Penny wants to ask, but she holds herself back.

Am I asking for too much? Am I being too selfish? Have I made you sad? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. If you allowed her, she would go on forever on everything she wants to say to PENTAGON.

What am I to you? What am I supposed to be? What did you want me to be? Why am I so unsure if I matter to you? Where are these questions coming from? She never had these thoughts cross her mind. After all, she is satisfied being in the background. She is content to watch everyone grow and mature.

She is happy.

She is…happy?

Would someone who is happy have so many ways to question their worth?

Penny has no doubt in her heart that she loves all the boys very dearly. She and the group technically were born together. She is very excited and delighted to see how each and every one of them has grown. But standing in front of Hui, Penny wonders if they ever saw her with even at least the tiniest bit of love they can spare.

“I just,” Penny continues, eyes dropping down to her shoes. “I wanted to know…if you love us…,” Can she be selfish, just this once? “...if you love me, just like you do for all the others.” Her voice drops down to almost a whisper, losing all the previous strength and courage Penny managed to muster.

Penny stands there waiting for Hui’s response, the silence around them rings so loud in her ears, like a thousand glasses crashing against each other. She can only focus on her shoes, refusing to move a single muscle. Why isn’t he replying? Why can’t he just say a yes or no? Why am I even here? Why is this happening? This is all so stupid. Why? Why me? Why? Why? Why?Why?Why?Why?

Just as Penny starts to spiral, Hui slowly kneels down in front of her. She startles, looking at him as he reaches to be on the same eye-level as her. His smile is small, gentle, eyes so warm Penny didn’t realize how cold she felt until she physically melted just by looking at him. He holds out his hands to her, and Penny slowly puts hers on them, her own head tilting at Hui. He holds onto her tightly and smiles wider.

How can one person be so filled with love it shows itself even through the simplest action of smiling? Just by looking into their eyes?

How can someone be so willing to surrender their heart for all to see? To open their heart for anything? To still have space to love even more?

Penny doesn’t know the answer to these questions. She doesn’t think she’ll be able to experience doing something like that herself. But she stares at Hui smiling at her, and she thinks that maybe someone like that can actually exist somewhere.

Hui stares at her a little bit longer, a nostalgic feeling finding its way into his gaze, and he opens his mouth, “Just because I didn’t make you doesn’t mean I don’t love you just the same.”

Penny’s breath gets caught in her throat. She prepared herself for rejection, for indifference, for maybe a very guilty expression. She was prepared to get her heart quietly broken. She never expected Hui to look at her with so much love, like a parent would to their child.

He pushes on, “It might seem so different now, with us being all self-produced now, but that will never mean I won’t be grateful for what you are in our lives. I look at you and I see how far we’ve grown, how far we’ve reached. But more than that, you also carry so much memories. You are our debut. There’s so much worth and weight in what you are.”

“But I’m stuck like this,” Penny whispers back. “I’ll never truly be one of yours.”

“And maybe you don’t have to be. Maybe the time just wasn’t right. We were too new to have a purely self-produced album. We were too young ourselves. But that doesn’t mean the memories and joy we felt during your time weren’t real, weren’t ours to cherish.”

Hui lifts his right hand and places them on Penny’s cheek. He uses his thumb to wipe away any tears he can catch, his smile somehow melting even more. When did she start crying? When did breathing become difficult? Penny bites on her lip, silencing any sounds trying to escape.

“Besides,” Hui softens his voice. “I’m sure there are plenty of Unis out there who are Universes today because of you. You gave us a chance to be the idols we are today. So please, don’t think that I don’t love you. And even if I didn’t, I’m sure there is someone somewhere out there who will fill in that love for me, even if you can’t meet them.”

Penny tries to get her breathing under control. There’s too much emotion to feel, emotions so different from what she expected to receive. After a few minutes, she sucks in a breath through her teeth and whispers back, “You guys have grown so much.”

Hui carefully pulls her into a hug, and whispers in her ear, “I’ll forever be grateful you paved the way for this to happen.”

A sincere person until the very end, her beloved leader. She throws her arms around him and hugs him back. If she’s hugging him tighter than he does to her, he doesn’t comment on it and hugs her back just as tightly.

Eventually, Penny pulls back and looks at him, staring at her with so much love and gratitude. It feels so warm. Penny finds the strength to smile back, “It’s been an honor to be a part of your journey.”

Hui stands back up and Penny goes to continue walking forward. She notices the missing footsteps beside her and looks back to see Hui going in the opposite direction. Oh, is their time up? Penny cups her hands around her mouth and calls out, “HUI!”

The man turns back at her, tilting his head with a smile. Penny waves at him with both arms, like one would do when watching a cruise ship drive away. “Good luck,” she shouts to him with a smile, “with everything.”

Hui smiles back, wider than the others she’s seen today, and raises one hand to wave back. After that, he turns back and continues walking.

Penny watches his back for a few more moments. Eventually, she turns back around and continues her own way forward.

Just like all those years ago, Penny can only watch and let him go his own separate way.

This time, though, it didn’t feel heavy to let go.

Soon, Penny hears voices coming from ahead.

“Sunny, get back here! I know you did it!”

“You can’t prove anything, dear sister!”

“Lor, stop watching and help me with this.”

“I don’t know, man. You seem to be doing just fine on your own.”

“Why was I assigned babysitting duty…”

Penny can’t help the grin that crosses her face hearing the voices of her other sisters. She runs the rest of the way, leaving behind nothing more than what would be thought of as a dream.

Will newer works always be more relevant than works of the past?

Can the same artist value their current work more than the previous?

Or maybe one can learn to love their past creations for what they were for the time.

Maybe there’s no need to compare the worth of one project to another.

Maybe one can simply give their love to anything and everything they have made.

Wouldn’t that make life even just a little bit brighter?

~~ End thoughts ~~

So this specific idea was inspired by multiple songs:

You Are - PENTAGON

The Greatest Wall - HUI & KINO

What Was I Made For? - Billie Eilish

With Universe - PENTAGON

for you - HUI

Me, while writing this: *shaking* “Would Hui even say that??”

Like of course I don’t know him personally so everything this Hui has "said" is all a guessing game

Doesn't stop the anxiety ૮₍˶Ó﹏Ò ⑅₎ა

I’ll be honest, I had no intention of actually fully writing out this idea because it sounds too…crazy and stupid. Like, why would anyone write about this?

But then October 9 came, then “With Universe” was released. I think I just needed to cope really badly back then.

It’s stupid. I've only known these guys for like 9 months and yet I’m so attached to them. So many things happened just as I was getting to know them and it's all been very confusing emotionally.

So this was basically my coping mechanism of a fic.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed reading this. Or cringed. Either works honestly.

#pentagon #fanfic #ptg #fanfiction #fic #pentagon album #inspired by That Scene in the Barbie move #actually i had this idea before i even watched the Barbie movie #it just gave me the push to start making an initial sketch of the album girls #(yes that means i have little notes on all 13 major korean releases i am mentally stable)#(can it be called a sketch if it's all words not drawings?)#fun fact: i actually finished this last Oct 28 #i just entirely forgot i had a tumblr account #god im already regretting this and it's still on drafts right now #anyway uh i dont know what other tags to put so that people who dont want to see it wont see it #learning how to do those colors gave me flashbacks #html i did NOT miss u #wanna know something stupid?#i forgot ptg had a song called “Nostalgia” when i was making the title

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eupheme · 6 months ago

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— come on and show me

[part ii | part iii | masterlist]

logan howlett x f!reader x wade wilson

rated e - 5.5k

tags: Logan POV, MMF threesome, jealous!logan, reader is wade's girl, mutual pining/crushes all around, voyeurism, dirty talk, open relationship, oral sex, fingering, Logan doms both of them, 69ing, fucklicking, ball worship, come eating, PiV

a/n: I want them to kiss and I also want them to kiss reader to here this is! 💕

Right now, all he can hear is Wade running his goddamn mouth. Drowning out the sounds you make - so fuckin’ pretty, and the prick is too busy listening to himself to appreciate it.

There’s one thing that Logan knows for sure - and it’s that Wade’s not doing it right. Not like he would.

(or - Logan tries to shut Wade up, and it doesn’t quite go as expected)

Logan can hear Wade from here.

Running that goddamn mouth already, and the sun’s only barely up.

Can hear you, too. The little whimpers that you try bite back. He can imagine the way your teeth sink into your lip - the thought has him shifting in his chair, breakfast forgotten.

So fuckin’ pretty, and the prick is too busy listening to himself to appreciate it.

Knows he could make you even louder, too. It’s almost like he’s at the mansion again, looking at another toy he can’t touch.

What a waste.

The sounds crescendo, the chanting of a name layered with that endless babble that makes his teeth grind, before the sound breaks.

Trying not to look interested when the door opens a few minutes later. Snatching up the newspaper that’s been sitting on the cluttered tabletop for a month now, flicking it open.

Ignoring how Wade strolls out, adjusting the waistband on a pair of grey sweats that are hanging way too low on his hips for comfort.

Rummaging around for a bottle of water, the glow of the fridge illuminating the curve of his ass. The cut of the pants look familiar, Logan's eyes narrowing as he wonders if those are his missing pair-

The edge of the paper flicking up again into place again, just as Wade stretches - bending further, before the bottle is snatched from the back.

Logan huffs.

“Hey roomie,” Wade hums, flicking the cap at him. It sails through the air, disappearing into his forgotten cup of coffee with a little 'plunk', “Don’t let me interrupt that killer Ed Tom Bell impression you’ve got going on, just hydrating for round two.”

“Ooh,” A cock of his hip, as he turns - head tilting as he thinks, “Does that make me Josh Brolin? God, I love him.”

“That’s all?” Logan’s eyebrows lift as he sneers - ignoring another reference he doesn’t understand, “Been going at it for a while.”

As soon as he says it, he regrets it. Opening himself up for an attack. He can already hear the sing-song response at the admittance that he’s been listening.

Screwing the Pavlovian pooch, with the way that he's more than aware that his dick’s half-hard. The result of taking care of himself one too many times - an attempt at getting himself back to sleep, pretending that he isn’t jerking himself off to the beat of the frame that bangs against the walls.

Luckily, Wade zeros in on the exact wrong part. Sputtering, as water drips down his chin, “That’s all? What do you mean, that’s all?”

“You heard me,” The paper crinkles in his fist, “In fact, I’m surprised you even got round one off. Much less that she’s sticking around for another.”

“You wound me, and yet, flatter.” Wade’s hand flattens over his heart, “I never knew you thought about me like that.”

“I haven’t been thinking about you, you ass,” Logan snarls, teeth bared, “I just know that if you’re talking, then you’re not doing it right.”

Wade grins at that, teeth scraping over his lower lip as they stretch wide.

Eyes flicking over his form, assessing in a way that has Logan bristling - voice going syrupy-smooth, “Is that right? You think you can do better, mutton chops?”

The breath he inhales is ragged. That feeling back again - an urge to curl his hand around Wade’s throat, and squeeze.

“Yeah,” Logan growls out, “Yeah, I fucking do.”

The table shakes as Wade plops himself down on the edge, a leg crossing over the other. Interest gleaming in his eyes as his head tilts towards the bedroom door.

“Alright. Bring on the magic tricks, Angier.” His hands splay wide, wiggling, “Gonna show me how to make your fingers disappear?”

Logan glares, his eyes flicking down to where the fleece pulls across his hips.

“Right.” He spits, “Like you’ve got another in you?”

“Hey now, pookums. Marvel Jesus, remember?” Wade’s hand makes a sweeping gesture in front of his crotch, “Just give me three minutes and I’ll have risen.”

“That’s disgusting.” Logan barks, “And get off the table.”

If anything, it makes Wade sit harder. His legs pivoting until he can spread his thighs on either side of the paper, ankles dangling off the edge.

“Disgusting?” His tone pitches up, “Says the man that’s rocking a stiffy. Gonna jerk it at the breakfast table when I leave? You know Blind Al eats there.”

The paper twitches reflexivity in his hands, and Wade’s smile pulls wider as Logan shoots him a death glare, lips curling over teeth.

“Why the fuck would I do something like that?”

Wade hums, “Call it an educated wish.”

“Call it an educated get-the-fuck-out-of-here.” Logan scoffs. His eyes flicking towards the bedroom, the door still shut, “You’re talking like she wants this.”

Wade’s finger presses at the edge of the newspaper he’s hiding behind, and Logan bats his hand away.

He’s still not gotten used to all the skin, he doesn’t know where to look. The slightest shift back in his chair, but he’s already pressed up against the wall.

“Oh please, as if we don’t take turns roleplaying as you,” Wade sighs longingly, “This would be a wet dream come true.”

His eyes narrow then, as his tongue runs across his lip. Voice dropping again, coaxing.

“Look,” Wade says it like he’s leveling with him - talking man-to-man,“If you wanted to fuck her, peanut, all you had to do was ask.”

And for a moment, Logan truly considers it. Not just the fantasy that’s been playing through his head for weeks.

Weirder shit has happened, he supposed.

He’s already been claw-deep into Wade’s guts. A brawl in that shitty van that lasted until morning. Bound tip-to-tip in the void for god knows how long.

Getting walked in on in the bathroom at least twice in the last month. A gleeful “mind if I cut in?”, before Logan’s fist is sending him into the vanity.

The last time it took a full week to get the sink fixed.

Not to mention that Wade apparently seems so certain that his clothes were now their clothes.

So fucking keen on sharing.

So it wasn’t a stretch to think he might want to share you, too.

There’s something caught between his teeth, heavy on his tongue. About to loosen, when the door is opening.

Swallowing them down as you step through, thighs bare under a too-big t-shirt. Arms wrapping around Wade’s shoulders as your lips press against his cheek.

“Thought you were coming back, Red.” You coo. Drawn out by the sound of bickering as you had basked in your afterglow.

“Morning, Logan.” A smile sent his way after, turning sheepish, “You’re up early. Hope we didn’t wake you.”

He grunts in reply. Pretending there wasn’t a little jolt in his stomach at the sound of his name. That he hadn’t been thinking about spreading you across this table, lifting the hem of your shirt up-

If he’d been in your bed, no one would have had to wonder.

The whole damn floor would’ve been woken up.

“He thinks I fuck bad, so I’m gonna prove he’s wrong,” Wade adds in, cheerfully, “That okay with you, gorgeous?”

Logan glares over the top of his paper. A rough clearing in his throat as your eyebrows lift, glancing his way.

He hadn’t really meant to bring you into this, or at least, that’s what he’s telling himself.

That eye contact dropping, as you lean into Wade, your chin propped on his shoulder, “Is that right? How are you going to do that?”

Logan’s answer comes out flat, as he examines an ad in the bottom corner of the page,“I’m not doing anything.”

Wade sighs, his head knocking back against your shoulder.

“Come on, Wolvie. I would love for you to prove me wrong,” He needles, digging deep, “Put your money where my cock should be.”

Logan still doesn’t look up, “Not interested, I’m busy.”

The sigh that pulls from his lungs is long, a near-whine.

“What, with reading?” He exclaims, “Jesus you really are old. The retirement home called, they’re missing a resident.”

Logan’s eyes snap up now, narrowing, “Fuck. Off.”

With a sigh, Wade fucks off. Legs curling, until he’s rolling off the table. Your hand fitting in his, a water bottle tucked under your arm as you head back towards the room.

“The offer still stands!” He calls.

A beat, before you turn.

“Logan?” You call, as he’s helpless - his eyes pulling away. Drawn to you.

A little wink sent his way. Your finger gesturing towards his chest, as you smile.

“Your paper’s upside down.”

Logan’s still not quite sure how he got here. His feet moving on his own, fingers catching the bedroom door just as it starts to close.

Almost backing out when he sees the look of Wade’s face, pleased as fucking punch.

Standing by the edge of the bed now, as you kneel on it in front of him. Fingers slipping across his chest - curious, with the way your eyes flicker over his face. Eager, though you hide it well.

“So what exactly did you tell Wade to get him so worked up?” Your fingers twine around his neck, as his find your hips.

He hums at that - flicking towards his roommate before they find yours again.

“All I said was that if I can hear his mouth running from out there,” Logan’s fingers dent into soft skin, tugging you closer, “He can’t be doing a good job.”

There’s a shift off to the side. Wade sinking down into the beanbag chair he pulled up,“Can you believe that? As if I don’t have a good grade in my oral and my dickabilties.”

“A gold star, babe.” You shoot him a tender smile, before they focus on Logan again. Shoulder lifting, as your grin grows, “I mean, Merc with a Mouth, right? Seems like part of the package.”

He huffs, eyes dropping to your lips.

“You think it’s good,” Logan’s tone is almost pitying, “But it’s only because you haven’t had better.”

That pulls a gasp from your throat, eyebrows lifting.

“Yeah, I think you’re trying to emasculate me, but honestly…” Wade’s hand splays wide over his crotch, “Sploosh.”

“Sploosh.” You echo softly, and he can feel you shift closer. Can smell the fresh curl of arousal that heats your skin, as his hands ghost higher. A small smile, as your head tilts, “So you just all talk then, or…”

“No.” Logan scoffs, “No, I’m not.”

He closes the gap, more certain now. Mouth pressing against yours, as you squeak - tense in his arms, until you go liquid.

Soft tits pressed to his chest as his tongue sweeps against your lips. Swallowing a pretty moan as they part for him, his own groan rumbling in his chest as his hands wander.

Slipping down, ghosting against skin. Feeling the goosebumps that rise, as he draws circles against your hip. His name whimpered, and it shoots straight to his cock.

Not even a heartbeat, before the chatter begins.

“Bet your pussy’s wet already, isn’t it baby?” He coos, “A kiss like that, it’s even got me a little worked up. And I’m just producing this show.”

Logan’s eyes crack open as he glares, “You’re not producing shit, asshole.”

“Ooh, I bet you SO wish you worded that in a different way-”

You huff against his mouth, your touch guiding him back. The thought lingers, curiosity burning. Letting his fingers toy with the hem of your shirt, knuckles brushing your thigh.

Tracing around to the curve of your ass, his wide palm splaying out, then squeezing against bare flesh.

“Is he right?” He rasps, his lips brushing against yours. Half-hating that he’s letting Wade get in his head, but the thought-

You gasp again, and his teeth flash with his smirk, “Are you wet for me already, sweetheart?”

“She’s been since she first saw you. Goddamn Niagara Falls,” Wade’s voice has softened - teasing now, “Isn’t that right, gorgeous?”

An amused shake of your head, as something silent passes between them. Logan doesn’t pretend to know how your relationship works - other than the fact that Wade was willing to do anything to save this world for you.

And that there’s something inside him that tightens - a flicker in his belly - whenever he looks at you. Whenever Wade flirts with him. That sharp annoyance from their meeting slowly bleeding out with each day goes by.

Something else taking root, the more time he spends with both of you. He’s not good with his emotions. Doesn’t want to name that ache when he saw you together.

A silent wish, with his shifting daydreams. With the jerk of his fist in the morning. Imaging you in his bed, at first. And then, more - two sets of hands. Two mouths at his cock, and then he’s suddenly coming harder than he has before.

He’s become greedy, the more you both give him.

“Show me.” It’s a command, soft and low.

Logan can feel your thighs press together, that little squirm. Tucking this new discovery away as you lean back, eyes dark with desire.

The briefest hesitance, before your fingers loosen from him. Slipping down, under the hem of your shirt. The nails on your other hand bite into his shoulder as you sigh - two fingers gliding through the wet folds of your pussy.

Pulling them back for him to see. Glistening, your arousal stringing between them. His hand is already curling around your wrist. No resistance as he tugs - guiding your fingers past his lips as they part.

Sucking the sweet taste of you as he groans, deep in his chest. Eyes fixed on yours so he can see the way yours widen, feeling how your fingers flex against the swipe of his tongue.

“Logan.” You sigh his name, and it only makes his moan - eyes shutting as you press down against his tongue. The need slipping into your voice, pleading.

“I wanna feel your mouth. Show me, too,” You sigh, as you slip from him, “Show me what you meant.”

Christ, he’s been aching for this. Eager to drown himself in your pussy, if you’d let him.

There’s a sharp clap that forces his eyes open. Wade’s enthusiasm as he drags the bag closer, chin cradled in his hands.

“Yeah, Logan. You gonna show us your dickabilites, or what?”

He shoots him a withering look. Softening before he turns to you, his chin tipping up.

“Lay back on the bed for me, sweetheart.”

You listen so sweetly, and it makes his cock throb. A quick dart of your eyes over to your boyfriend, who only nods.

“Take that off, baby,” Wade coos, “Show him how pretty you are.”

He’s not sure when he started letting Wade make orders, but for once he’s not wanting to argue about his suggestions.

Because fuck, you are pretty. No arguing with that.

Letting his eyes sweep over every inch that is revealed, as you lift the hem of your shirt. The curve of your hips, your soft tits that he can’t wait to get his mouth on.

Baring yourself, as you lean back against the pillows. His eyes are fixed on your cunt, already fitting himself between your thighs. Fingers reaching - ready to part you open. Taste you himself, bury his tongue inside you.

Your hand reaches out, pushing against his shoulder.

“Wait, you too.” You pout, “Let’s play fair, okay?”

He huffs, lips quirking. Hands catching the hem as he tugs his own shirt off, Wade diving for it as he tossed it towards the floor.

Twin gasps rise, and if he was a much younger man, he may have blushed.

“Fuck.” Wade groans, a hand dropping down his crotch and squeezing.

You’re already leaning forward, a hand flattening against his skin. A soft "wow" slipping from your lips - feeling the way his muscles jump as you slide over his pecs, the thick hair covering them.

A hand hooking around his shoulder - a smirk hidden as you tug him down on top of you.

Soft, beneath him. Those needy whines he loves so much caught between your teeth as he noses at your neck. Teeth nipping at skin, an urge to leave a mark for later.

That cry finally loosened as he moves down. Teeth and tongue biting and soothing at the tight peaks of your nipples. Broad hands cupping and squeezing, liking the way they fit in his palms. The way you moan, arching into his touch.

“Give me more of that,” He murmurs against your skin, "I want to hear you."

Your body tensing beneath his when he settles between your thighs. They have to spread, to fit his shoulders. Opening you up, putting you on display.

Watching how you clench - a throaty chuckle as his thumb presses just shy of your folds. Tugging you open, seeing how your skin glistens with slick already.

“Pretty fucking sight, you know that?” His eyes flip up to yours.

You’re propped up on your elbows. Teeth sinking into your lip, breath held as your eyebrows slant in anticipation. Lips parting with his words, a minute shift of your hips.

“You should see it when it’s stuffed full. Boston cream's got nothing on her."

There’s an embarrassed groan of his name. Logan ignores him - letting his thumb rub against the tight nub of your clit, instead. Your word turning into a sharp, inhaled breath.

Teasing, each circle achingly slow. Aware of the two sets of eyes on him, burning his skin. A low ache in his belly, his glaze fixing on yours, watching as you inhale as his mouth lowers.

A soft lick, tongue lapping against your slit. Tasting you more thoroughly, dragging against soaked skin, as his fingers tease at your entrance.

Focusing on your clit, tight flicks with his tongue. Letting his lips suck on the tight bud, as he sinks down to one knuckle, then another. A second finger slipping in once you get used to him, making room for himself as he scissors you open.

He can hear the soft, wet sound of your cunt, with each plunge of his fingers. Flexing and curling them until he can feel you clamp down.

The quiet sounds you make - soft breaths and gasps - turning louder. Panting now, as you whine. Hips lifting to meet the curl of his tongue, until he pulls back.

“Should be hearing this,” Logan grits out. A quick glance towards Wade as his fingers pound into you, “Not you talking out of your ass.”

There’s silence for a long moment, the words coming out distracted.

“You talk about my ass an awful lot for a man who pretends he's not interested,” Wade manages, slowly, “You change your mind about that, too?”

His breath shallow, as Logan growls in annoyance. Attention returning back to you. Fingers working faster, head dropping again to tongue at your clit.

A leg hooks over his shoulder - a heel digging into his back, tugging him closer. Logan loses himself - growling into your pussy. His own hips pressing down into the bed, as he tugs at his belt and button, relieving the too-tight ache of denim.

Feeling how you leak against his palm, tighten around his fingers. Chase that winding pleasure as you arch into his mouth. A hand drifting off the bed, reaching. Grasping.

“Logan.” You’re begging again, pleading. For more, for anything. For him not to stop, and he leans into the way you tug at his hair, guiding him to the right spot.

You come with your fingers entwined with Wade’s. With your thighs clamped against Logan's ears as he rips a cry from you - long and loud - threatening to suffocate him.

Would be the way he’d choose to die, if he could.

The sounds come flooding back, as your thighs loosen. Boneless and languid, your smile wide as your fingers trace his scruff, the sharp curve of his jaw.

Perhaps he was wrong, to think he could silence Wade entirely. Your orgasm has only made him more vocal - complaints about how “fucking hard he is” mixing with rambling praise.

“Wilson.” He finds himself growling. Beckoning with two fingers, as Wade practically springs from the bag.

“Oh my GOD,” Wade is gushing, clambering onto the bed with him, “This is way better than joining the Avengers. Even if they do have Thor.”

“Huge praise.” You smile drunkenly, pushing yourself up to press your mouth against his.

And under his direct instructions, Logan finds that Wade almost listens.

“Get on your back,” He points, as you scooch to make room.

"Ooh, dirty." Wade grins, splaying out on his back, hands tucked under his head.

“No,” Logan makes a frustrated sound - ignoring another comment. A twirl of his finger, “The other way.”

His head is cradled near your hips now, legs stretched out toward the pillows.

Logan’s next words are a growl, “Now, clean her up.”

Wade groans, as he catches up.

“Fuck.” He whines, “Yeah. Come here, baby.”

Hands guiding you into place, your knees framing his head, as you face towards the headboard. Wade’s mouth already tipping up to meet you, a soft moan as his tongue swipes against your slit.

“I don’t want to hear you until she comes.” Logan rasps, and he can see the way Wade’s hips lift.

Just now catching the darkened fabric, where it tents.

Another thing to catalog.

Content for now to let his hands drift as he stands behind you at the edge of the bed, his chest pressing to your back. Sucking a mark in the hollow under your ear, feeling the buzz of your whine against his lips.

Hands cupping your breasts again, feeling their weight. Pinching at the tight peaks, before his thumb is smoothing over them.

Your eyes are blown wide, fingers curling against your thighs. Panting as the overstimulation tips towards pleasure, the feel of the sweet mouth below you soft and familiar.

Shifting as you sit, rocking back to where Logan’s cock presses against your lower back. His hands tugging at the zipper, shoving his jeans down as he works himself free. Kicking them off, after.

You gasp when you see him from over your shoulder, and he can’t help the way he twitches in his hand at the sound. Can’t pretend he isn’t leaking from tasting you, his cock heavy as he lets go to let it hang between his thighs.

“Fuck, that’s not fair.” It’s muffled, and you hum in agreement as Wade lifts you to get a better look, “God didn’t make you perfect enough as-is? Just had to make you proportional, you goddamn stallion.”

A derisive sound as his arm wiggles out from under you, fingers reaching.

“And Jesus H. Christ, look at the girth-”

Logan bats his hand away.

It should annoy him. That Wade isn’t listening. That he’s commenting on his cock - but it doesn’t.

Can’t help but think that in here, in this room, the chatter isn’t so bad. Would never admit that he’s wrong, just that when he’s admiring and not on a dumb-as-fuck tangent, it’s almost - flattering.

Maybe that’s too far. Tolerable, perhaps.

“You want my mouth?” You offer sweetly, breaking into his thoughts. Hungrily.

There’s a flash of white teeth as Logan smiles. A hand pressing gently against your back, until you’re stretched out over Wade.

“No. I’m still gonna fuck you, baby.” He rasps, “Just wanted a little peace and quiet while doing it.”

You moan, thighs inching wider. Head turned so you can watch the way he moves behind you. Adjusting your hips until your ass is in the air, his fingers gripping the base of his cock as he lines himself up.

“Keep going, Wilson.” He grits out, when the man goes still beneath them.

A rough chuckle rattles.

“Not a fucking chance, human tripod. I am SO watching this.”

Fuck it. He lets him.

Letting the tip of his cock press against your entrance. Wade’s arms curling around your thighs, holding you in place as you string tight above him.

“God, it’s even bigger from this angle. Feels like I’m in a goddamn eclipse right now.”

“Why do you sound surprised, babe?” Your voice is strained. Face buried against Wade’s stomach, fingers curled in the sheets, “I thought you guys fucked in the void.”

That fleeting curl of warmth leaves him.

“We what?” Logan growls, leaning back to glare at the peek of dark brown eyes, the top of a bald head he wants to slap.

Teeth bared, as he snarls, “We didn’t fuck. I beat the shit out of him in a goddamn van.”

“All night long.” Wade laughs - and then sighs fondly, “And isn’t that just the same thing?”

Fingers encircle his cock from below before he can retort, squeezing. A tug as he guides him into the tight clench of your pussy, and Logan thinks he really should just shove his claws into Wade’s dick.

But that desire bleeds away, as you stretch around him. The twin groans from beneath him, the sounds blending together.

“Oh,” You moan, clenching around him. Back arching, as he slips in another inch, “Makes sense. Was… was just wondering why it took you so long to join us.”

Logan goes still for a moment, with this new information. A realization that he could have had this the whole time, if he had asked.

That Wade hadn’t been joking before.

He groans, hips snapping forward. A grunt below as your knees squeeze against Wade’s throat, but from the way you squirm, Logan can tell that his mouth is at work again.

Teasing at your clit, as his own hips slowly start to move. Feet planting on the bedroom floor as his hands fit against your waist.

Using the leverage to drive himself deep. Hips flush as his balls slap against your skin, growing sticky with your release.

“This is hot, this is so fucking hot,” Wade groans, babbling as he sucks in a breath, “I’m so going to jerk my dick raw thinking about this later.”

And with the reminder, he supposes he can throw his roommate a bone.

“Come on, baby,” Logan rasps - reaching. A little nudge against your chin, angling your head, “Looks like he needs a little help.”

It’s benevolent. It’s selfish - his fingers biting into skin as you realize what he means. Watching as you tug at the waistband of Wade’s sweatpants, pushing them down.

The man moans, from between your thighs. Sweet nothings mumbled as your hand wraps around his cock, angling it into your waiting mouth.

Watching how the leaking tip presses into your cheek. The buck of his hips as you fist moves, while you suck - your spit slicking up his cock.

It looks like the rest of him. Mottled skin, the tip flushed a deeper shade of red. Long and thick in your hand - Logan’s cock throbbing at the way you swallow him down, how your lips part to make him fit.

His pace picking up. Pounding into your tight, wet cunt as Wade groans against your clit. Tongue lapping and licking, winding you higher as Logan drives you towards a second.

Slowly drifting, as the flicks of his tongue grow longer. The tip pressing against your folds, as you groan around his cock.

Further down. Tasting the tang of your release - the salt of skin where you’re split open, stretched wide.

And then further. Logan jerks, as something wet drags along his shaft.

“Wade.” It comes out as a rough growl. Pitching into a huffing whine when it happens again, flattening against the heavy weight of his balls.

Choking him, as his rhythm stutters. Hips flexing into you as he grinds himself flush, teeth gritting.

“Fuck.” It’s hushed, pulled from his lungs.

Having to find himself again - hold back the urge to come right that second - as you squirm beneath him. Wade’s tongue traveling from your clit to the tight seam of his sack, his hips rocking in your mouth.

Finding a rhythm together, Logan’s head tilting back. The room filled with lewd sounds of their joining, of wet mouths and the rhythmic pounding of the headboard against the wall.

Lucky that Al was out for the morning, or else they’d never hear the end of it.

Your cries pitch up, as his cock drags against the spot his fingers found. Something clenching deep in his guts, eyes dragging down to how you look wrapped around him. The pink peek of tongue beneath, how the combination makes his toes curl.

Imagining another morning. Sharing you in another way, his cock buried in your ass while your lover fills your cunt. Whimpering between them, unable to form words.

The sound you make now are not that different - the cadence of your panting is one he’s coming to recognize.

“You close, sweetheart?” He rasps, arcing over you, “Can feel your pussy clenching around me. So fucking tight, can’t wait to feel you come all over my cock.”

It pulls a moan from you, head lifting from Wade’s cock. Resting against his stomach, as your hand wraps around him. The jerk of your fist messy, off rhythm.

“Yeah, you are.” Logan hums, as his hips rut into you, “Come on, Wilson. Make our girl come.”

There’s a rough groan. Wade listens for once, head tilting to suck at your clit. Logan concentrating on the angle that makes you cry out, a hand fisting in the sheets.

Their names a mumbled mess on your lips, as you’re yanked higher and higher. Your moans pitching up, growing louder.

Just like his dreams. Even better, really.

“Please,” You whine, “I’m, I’m-”

A high-pitched gasp, then, as your face buries against Wade’s hips. As your pussy clamps down around his cock, fluttering with the steady saw of his hips.

“Good fucking girl.” The praise is soft, as his thumbs rub circles against your skin, “That’s it, let him taste how sweet you are.”

Working together, the tight licks against your clit going lazy again. Dipping to your entrance to taste your release against his shaft, Wade’s cock leaking and bobbing against his stomach.

Drawing out your pleasure, until the stars fade from your half-lidded eyes. Until the rushing in your veins ebb, and the pulse around his cock fades.

A low sigh, before Logan’s reaching - his chin tucking against your shoulder. His hand curling around yours, guiding it back to Wade's cock.

“Don’t forget about him.” Another command, but gentle this time. His hand moving with yours, palm mapping your knuckles as he sets a rhythm, “There you go.”

He could let go. You’ve found yourself again, eyes hazy. But he keeps his hand there. Keeps a pace that is so much firmer than your own, his own hips matching the rhythm as he chases his own end.

Wade’s groan replaces yours. A hand leaving your thigh to wrap around his, biting down hard into muscle. It only drives him deeper into you. Logan’s own moan bitten back as the tongue against his dick slips against his sack again.

Then against the thin layer of skin just behind, teasing.

“Fuck.” It’s a rough growl.

His hand works faster, teeth gritting. Feral sounds caught in his throat, as the pressure in his belly grows.

The last thing he sees before he comes is the drips of white against his knuckles. The warmth, a ragged groan against the inside of his thigh. Your mouth closing around to catch the rest, taking Wade’s cock into your throat with a soft sigh.

It robs him of his breath. A shuddering moan, as he grinds himself deep. Spilling into you again and again with each pulse of his cock, blood rushing in his ears.

Legs threatening to give as he empties himself, as his chest presses flush against your back. His face buried in your hair, as your tongue traces his knuckles. Cleaning them, as he did for you.

When he can, Logan eases from you with a grunt. Watching how you gape, then clench, now empty.

A bead of his release welling up, dripping against your skin. You go to move, but Wade’s hands curl around your calves - pulling you flush.

It’s hard to look away, as he licks away Logan’s come. A sharp ache of desire with the sound of a needy groan, as his tongue dipping inside.

Maybe Wade doesn’t have such a bad mouth, after all.

Logan’s arm is numb, but he can’t bring himself to move. Can’t remember a time when he’d let his brain turn off like this. A brief moment of silence, and it’s bliss. His world standing still.

“So that’s how you do it.” You muse quietly, dizzily. Head cradled against his chest - fingers dragging through the hair, gently scratching.

A stirring on his other side, where Wade is using his bicep like a pillow.

“Mm, I don’t think I got it,” Wade counters, but it’s soft - hazy at the edges. “Think I missed a couple steps. Was that round two or three?

"Three," You say - as Logan grunts, "Two."

The fingers on his chest drift down, dipping over his stomach.

“Well, either way...” You hum, snuggling a little closer, “Maybe you oughta show us, one more time.”

Wade flips over then, chin propped in his hand, “At least. Maybe even twice. We’re bad learners, peanut. Dumb as fucking rocks, really.”

“Mhmm,” You sigh, “Really dumb. Can't even count.”

And he can’t stop the twitch of his lips, even with his eyes closed. Had forgotten what it was like to be warm like this.

To be wanted.

And maybe, he even feels… content.

Something he never thought he’d be, again.

thank you so much for reading! it means so much and I am so happy to be dipping my toes into these pairings💖

#gorgeous gif by @ayo-edebiri!#wolverine x reader x deadpool #wolverine x reader #deadpool x reader #logan howlett x reader #wade wilson x reader #xmen x reader #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett x f!reader

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