#CALLING ALL SUPER READERS

[restinslices]

Imma hope I have Marauder era fans as followers or I can call all super readers. Anyway-

If tragedy hadn't struck on Halloween, how do y'all think they would've lived? Tragedy can strike later. Voldemort can still be a thing but maybe they hid well. Idk. I ain't figure that out yet. How would their lives have been? How many kids would James and Lily have? Which couples would stay together? Would any break up? How would all their kids interact? Would the second gen be friends? I want all the headcanons because I'm nosey and I wanna draw shit. Thanks sugar muffins 🤞🏾💕

[brewed-pangolin]

Drunk sex with Soap would undoubtedly almsot always end with him passing out mid thrust.

The man, thankfully, does not suffer from whiskey dick. But that stamina does not always flow so seamlessly into his physical exertion.

Instead of his usual measured pace, he'll go full balls to the wall and wear himself out in less than a minute.

He'll apologize later. Once he's sobered up. Likely following it up by giving you countless orgasms to make up for the multiple he denied you while drowning in a brain full of liquor.

For now, you're covered by a sweat ladened and stark naked Scot. Cock still hard and buried in your cunt. A tinge of annoyance to your unsatisfied need playing behind your eyes, staring up at the ceiling as a muffled snore dances across the shell of your ear.

[cerise-on-top]

Hello, how was your week? I hope you’re doing well! And it’s completely okay if not because it is a sensitive topic, but could you please write ghost with a S/O who has a drug addiction?

Hey there! I had an interesting week, to say the least! Not bad, though! It's been very freeing! Thank you!

Ghost with a Drug Addict S/O

If we go off of canon, then Ghost has had a drug addict in his life before, his brother Tommy. Canonically speaking, he did help his brother out and did support him, so why wouldn’t he do the same for you? Sure, he won’t be particularly happy about it, but he’ll support you. He’ll calmly talk to you about it, ask you what you want to do and where you see yourself in the future. If you’re already aware you have a problem? Good, then that doesn’t need to be addressed. Ghost is patient, if he needs to talk to you about it several times to make you realize you have a problem, he will. He won’t judge you in the slightest, he won’t give you unsolicited advice either, but he will make the suggestion that you might want to try rehab. You’re probably aware that drugs aren’t good for you and he’ll support you through it. Yes, he’ll even fund your rehab, but he’s going to be sort of controlling about it to make sure he’s not funding your addiction. However, he will make his boundaries clear: He’s likely not going to cover for you too many times if you miss work or school. If he did then he’d be shielding you from the consequences, making you feel as though there aren’t any. You’re more than welcome to ask him for help, he’ll do what he can to be of use to you, but he’ll also be firm. He’s well aware that your addiction likely stems from something. Maybe a mental health problem or maybe you were around the wrong crowd. Either way, he’ll be addressing those problems alongside your drug addiction. If he didn’t then you’d likely just fall back into old, bad habits. He won’t be mad at you or be disappointed if you relapse, it’s not that unlikely, after all, but he’ll try his best to get back on track. The most important part is that you need to talk to him. You need to want to get better or else he can’t help you. He’s not going to abandon you because he loves you and knows that an addiction is always hard to overcome, but please take his hand. He just wants to help you. Please communicate with him whatever it is you may need him to do. Another thing he’s going to do is find a bunch of new hobbies for you. You wanna go to the gym with him? You wanna take up knitting? You wanna get into baking? He’s gonna be with you during those times as well. He’s well aware you need something non-triggering to distract yourself with, and he’s more than happy to find something nice and calming for you to engage in. And I do also believe that he would try to reinforce positive behavior by rewarding you as well. Overall, he’d be a very supportive partner to have.

[thesesoldierboysarebi]

Will mostly be reblogging for a while I think, but I’m gonna be real, 70 percent of my reason for making this blog in the hopes of writing was that I noticed a big chunk of CoD x reader posts on this hellsite have readers with like…concerningly low ages. There’s a lot of reader character minor-coding going on, and it’s weirdling me out (no shade to young writers, I know a lot of the reason is that a majority of CoD fanfic writers are 18-25 here, which, yk, fair that you wanna see self-inserts with similar ages).

But as I said, it gives me the ick, so if/when I end up writing x reader, I wanna go ahead and make it clear that I will not be writing a reader character in a romantic/sexual position BELOW the age of 25 at most. Most of the Call of Duty men are, like, 28 at the youngest, and I’m more inclined to write reader characters with matching ages, especially afab readers.

In other words? I’m gonna write milfs and dilfs. I’m gonna write top!reader. I’m gonna write unhinged women that leave the various men of TF141 screaming crying throwing up. I will NOT be writing virginal, innocent, or overly naive reader characters; I do not do minor-coding. Y’all have been warned.

[ur-fav-alien]

Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: Mortal Kombat (Video Games) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Johnny Cage/Takahashi Kenshi Characters: Johnny Cage, Takahashi Kenshi Additional Tags: Pre-Relationship, before kenshi loses his eyesight, at the monk camp, they're besties (not by choice), Kenshi knows a little too much about Johnny (don't ask him why...), they're so falling for each other, johnny is dealing with a divorce Summary:

Johnny gets his divorced papers from Cris one day at the camp and everything flips on it's head. He's so distressed that Kenshi (one of many who could care less about it) started to get concerned.

And maybe he needed to get a divorce to see what he really deserved.

[front-facing-pokemon]

[ziipzeepzop-eez]

OKAY SO-

I had an idea for a silly goofy au where Damian, Jon, and reader are like the scooby gang and go around solving mysteries.

Reader is like a magic user, and they're job is to keep the evil entities away from everyday people, (Like Supernatural! But kid friendly🩷)

Damian has been stalking them as Robin and that's how the supersons get involved in the mystery gang.

It's just wholesome crime solving amongst the baby heros, and they have fun adventures (that sometimes end in sleepovers).

It think it would be funny too if paranormal assistance was needed and Dickie walks in on the three of them performing a seance in the theater room-

"What the hell is happening right now?"

"Magic."

"..."

"Why."

"Because, Richard. It is important for our investigation."

"Okay." *Turns to leave*

"No, no, no. You have to stay until I close the ritual so the spirit doesn't attatch to you. :D"

"WHAT-"

But he can't complain, because at least little wing is making friends...?

Bonus if Bruce has no idea where Damian is going almost every night. Like he just dissapears for a few hours then just returns wuth Jon and no explaination.

Clark and Lois know obvi because Jon is just so excited to tell his parents all about the latest mystery.

I know this isn't alot but I have more but I think imma go take another nap rq-

Imma sleepy-

NORMIEEEEEE AAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!

Nono because--

I'm-

How'd you know that my absolute weakness is the Supersons with a same age reader completing the baby hero trinity??

I'M NOT JOKING IT'S SERIOUSLY ONE OF MY FORGOTTEN SOFT SPOTS FOR THESE GOOBERS!!!! I remember a long time ago when I read this headcanon post about the Supersons with a reader who was the child of Wonder Woman and they were basically the Big Three next gen!! 🥹🥹 I have no clue where it's at now :sobs: BUT IT WAS REALLY GOOD AND FUELED MY LOVE FOR DC CIRCA 2015-2017!!!!

Now. As for YOU, my dear boba bubble.........

*deeeep breath in-*

FRICK YEEEEAAAAAAHHHH

THEM!!! THE KIDS EVER!!!!!!!! BEING A LIL SCOOBY DOO GANG!!!

I ain't gonna tell no tall man's tale, as SOON as I got this gist for this - the Scooby Doo theme song was playing in my head and now I can't stop imagining it with them getting into funny dramatic thematic situations:

It's just-

🎶 WHAT'S NEW SCOOBY DOO? COMIN' AFTER YOU ✨🏃🏽‍♀️💨 WE'RE GONNA SOLVEEE THAT MYSTERY!!🎶 and it's all a rush of cutscenes of the Big Little Three getting into all kinds of fun supernatural filled shenanigans — crazy and wild and sometimes very scary, but they've all got each other's backs.

Point being: yes yes, 100% yes.

Magic user?!??!!?!?!!! THAT MEANS.... MAGIQUE~~~ (◠‿・)—☆

let's say bro (you) can fly - maybe not as often nor as naturally as Jonny boy, but hell you can levitate for more than a few minutes at a time, it's something!

you both take turns carrying Damian - the only non-flyer of the group lmaoooo

you're all the "middle man" between you all at one point or another. sometimes dami leads with his head and instincts; you and jon reel him in. sometimes jon leads with his heart and just finally fudging snaps because even the sweethearts go apeshit sometimes - you and dami do damage control and console the poor boy in the emotional aftermath. sometimes, you either lose yourself to the supernatural aspect of it all: it's either a overflowing, overwhelming rush of magic that zaps you dry and you're withered to a delicate, fragile thing in your own destructive aftermath or you go full on Avatar (tla) State and become something just shy of not human and need to be tethered back to the ground by your boys.

whatever the case may be, you all work around and through it all. you adapt to each other's needs. you're all there for each other, no matter what.

The bit with Dick and the seance. In the Manor, no less. I applaud you - it's too canon not to be.

You, hands glowing and a little too cheerful - like this is normal (it is. to you, at least) but still wary: "WAIT DON'T LEAVE YOU'RE NOW A LIABILITY TO THE DEMONS!!"

Dick:

Yoooooo, imagine pulling up to the function while Dami's at school LMFAOOOOOOO

HE'S IN A LAB OR ART CLASS JUST VIBING AND HAPPENS TO LOOK OUT THE WINDOW TO SEE YOU: LEVITATING AND WAVING FRANTICALLY TO HIM AND JON RIGHT BESIDE YOU, LOOKING EXTREMELY SHEEPISH AND WAVES INNOCENTLY:

Damian: Oh, Grandfather's head on a stick.

Classmate: Woah! What happened? *sees Damian looking right past them to the window, also looking like he's about to have an aneurysm*

Classmate: Bro, what-? *goes to turn*

Damian: *grabs them by the shoulders and turns them around* AH YA- YOU- YOUUuuuknow, what? It's nothing at all. Nothing of the sort. It was . . . a bird. Yes. A bird. It flew away. But I must leave now.

Classmate: *stunned* I-uh- okay-?

Damian: *gathering his things while retaining intense eye contact* Yes.

Classmate: ......... Bro you good? Seriously-

Damian, interrupts: It would seem I have a . . . Previous engagement. I'll tend to the bird on my way.

Classmate: Oh-

Damian, already out the door because you just deactivated your levitation spell and just, went right parallel downwards without a word and Jon panicked and flew down after you to try and catch you and the both of y'all disappear from his view and most likely ate absolute shit in the school's compost bin outside the window: Your understanding is appreciated.

Classmate: .......................

Classmate: It's first period??

LMFAOOOOO AND AS FOR CLASSMATE, bro's weirded out but probably unaffected nonetheless because Dami has a rep for being a little weird and disappearing out of the blue from time to time but is a relatively pleasant classmate nonetheless!

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Damian, Jon, and you being the next Big Little Three.......

But there's magic and ghosts involved!!! 👻✨

Idea: maybe you end up being Zatanna's apprentice/family member and inherited your magic through that! Orrrrr, you're just a freelance magic user, a bit of a vagabond of sorts, a total enigma and have it under your belt, no mentor, just doin' your own thing. (Miles Morales ref. 🙌)

Either way, you're a well-meaning kid with a good heart and have an absolute time hassling all these spirits like cattle back to the netherworld that nobody else can see.

Kinda like Danny Phantom!! (I loveeee dc x dp) or somethin' to that effect haha.

Wouldn't it be even funnier if reader has like, no known records? At all? They just showed up one day and came to clean out the supernatural aspects of the city ('ole goth here's messed up enough without all the vengeful ghosts in it! just doin' a little favor, no? *blows a kiss*') and gets roped into the adventure- and friendship/found family circle- of a lifetime.

Stakeouts that turn into sleepovers at the Manor. Very rarely down at the farm in Metropolis, but sometimes!! Big open cornfields, it's a hotpot for Prime Supernatural Activity. You make insufferable jokes (even tho they're like, true) and Damian scolds you for scaring Jon. Tt.

But you save his favorite cow Betsy from getting attacked by some random ghost demon and Jon nearly crushes your ribs in a hug.

As for Damiiiii, bro- I came up w/ something--

You pop up at some Wayne gala inexplicably at first.

Damian spots you for the first time (y'know, before y'all all become friends hueheuhueuhue *chokes, coughs*), completely out in the open, and spews his drink.

He'd immediately stomp over to you, aghast, because what in all the names of the Lazarus Pit are you doing here?! He'd been stalking you for weeks from afar! He was a master of stealth!! How did you even manage--

I- what? No, he does not like your outfit! It's rather spiffy, you say? HE DOESN'T CARE! THAT'S THE LAST THING HE'S THINKING ABOUT RIGHT NOW?? How did you even GET IN??

He's steaming and flustered while also trying to not make a scene because the place is crawling with socialites and high society aristocrats whereas you're cool, calm, charming, blending in too well as you down your own drink. [It's icy apple juice.] and just, bamboozles him further.

'Excellent year,' you suddenly say rather seriously, peering down into your glass of icy apple juice with an impressed expression, effectively cutting off Damian, who was in the middle of a hushed, barely watered down tirade.

Y'all stare at each other for all of two nanoseconds and the events happen as follows:

you turn a bottle of iced apple cider to Damian (where did you even manage to nab one?), pointedly at the label to further explain your comment,

he slaps it out of your hand in a rush of overwhelming emotion and thereby catches the attention of everyone within y'all's general vicinity,

BOOM - you're both circled out and being stared down from all sides.

Damian wants to crawl in a hole and die, maybe.

You raise your hand and twiddle your fingers in a sweet wave and- you- that's when he sees it-

Sparkles. Real, genuine, sparkles. Come right out from your fingertips.

Damian is at a loss while you suddenly garner an audience!! An applauding audience!!! What the hell is going on-?

You disappear in a puff of smoke! Oh my!!

And in a grandiose puff of sparkles and thematic smoke (it's like regular smoke but cooler), you reappear with a flourish on the stage on the other side of the room! Thereby catching everyone's attention.

"Good eveninggggg, my fellow Gothamites! Wowza, I see some sexy faces here tonight! *twirls magician's hat and releases an entire army of butterflies* Enchanted to see you all! I'm (Name) and I'm your prime rib for the night! (cue pulling a whole ass pig, cute and with a bowtie, out from the inside of your coat) Or so to speak!"

Gasps and claps arise from the audience!

Damian is terse, a little terrified, and a little impressed. And he watches the entire time as you pull off a literal magic show! An interactive one, too!

Afterwards, you stand in front of an enchanted crowd and bow with a proper flourish; when you peek out over the rim of your hat, you make direct eye contact with Damian, a mischievous smile playing at your lips.

A proper introduction for you, your Highness? - echoes in his mind. Magic.

That's when he knows. He knows, he's in for a wild ride.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I'VE STARTED AND NOW I CANT GET ENOUGHHHHHH OMGGGGGGGG

(Also! Dick would totally be gushing over y'all all the time. His baby wing made friends! And such Good Ones too!! Awwwww! <33)

(And Damian just snaps at him to be quiet, orrrr frowns from where he's trapped in between you and Jon in a group hug. He secretly, not-so-secretly loves it.)

[iiwaijime]

me when i want to eat suna as in nom nom nom likr chicken fry but i need to be normal

[almonddirge]

Another year, another Scara imagine (one shot?) based off of one of my dreams.

You go to the mall one night. You’re not one to go alone, and the place is mostly deserted, but today no one could really spare their time for you. All is well until you stumble upon a strangely-dressed group of people speaking in hushed tones. You back away quickly, but the rest of the night you feel you’re being watched.

You swear you’ve seen the same head of hair a few times, but every time you look back to confirm they’re gone. You brush it off and decide to just get boba. The thought never crosses your mind you won’t be getting it.

When someone covers your eyes and quickly whisks you away, you don’t even scream. Goddamnit, you think. It’s more an inconvenience than anything.

The blindfold is removed and you find yourself face to face with a tall ginger man. Not wanting to open your mouth, you simply glare.

“No hard feelings, comrade?”

When you were blindfolded, you fully expected to be killed or tortured. Instead, you are introduced to eleven eccentric people, including the redhead. The man with indigo hair seems especially standoffish, but you feel like someone who just got kidnapped doesn’t have the right to ask for their kidnapper to be kind.

“You seem cool and all, but I really just wanted my boba. Would it kill you to let me get it?”

Tartaglia, the redhead, bursts out laughing. The others look less amused, but they agree to it. Makes no sense to you, but you’re not about to complain.

They explain that you’ll have to be inducted into their ranks because you know too much. You point out that you didn’t hear shit and that they could’ve just killed you. It’s half-hearted at best; you are glad they’re giving you an opportunity to leave your honestly shitty life behind.

When it comes down to who will take you to get boba, everyone looks pointedly at Scaramouche. Wasn’t he the one who looked most like he wanted you dead? Whatever.

When you arrive back at the boba place in the mall, he finally speaks up. “You should get the matcha one.” It sounds like a command.

“What a coincidence. I was getting that one anyway.”

In the forced proximity, you learn a little about Scaramouche. He intrigues you so much, and you want to get closer yet. It also helps that he’s attractive. Unbeknownst to you, you’ve already caught his eye. Why else, as you pointed out earlier, would you be allowed to live?

[aroaessidhe]

2023 reads // twitter thread

Reader, I Murdered Him

spinoff of jane eyre, following Adele, the young french girl she’s a governess for

she retells the story of her young life, from when she’s adopted to her life in boarding school in in London where she witnesses other young women being hurt and assaulted by abusive men, and becomes a vigilante to try and protect them

bi MC, f/f

[restinslices]

I tend to add random lore no one asked for to series I like, so here’s me doing it for Shadow and Bone. Specifically for Shadow Summoners. Also for this, let’s pretend Aleksander was a real strategist and slept with someone before he died so his line could go on.

So when Baghra gets these powers, we know her dad is frightened by her. Shadow Summoners were supposed to happen and their presence could be seen as a curse. So a known quote or title they get is “a curse made real”.

I think it’d be very interesting if this had side effects. I know their powers are one, but I’m thinking more than that. Hear me out for a quick second. Shadows and the color black are often linked with evil and mystery, so what if this also tampered with their brain? There’s a part of your brain that tells you what’s right from wrong, but what if a side effect is that they have difficulty with this? It’s as if shadow covers their brain and something someone would consider wrong, isn’t that bad in their head, especially if it’s for a greater goal.

Adding onto that, I think it’d be interesting if this family kinda had the Targaryen reputation of “going mad”. I’ve never seen GOT or HOTD but the line that’s like “half the Targaryens went mad didn’t they? What’s the saying? Everytime a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin and the world holds its breath” could also fit this family. Kirigan could be seen as “gone mad” while Baghra isn’t. Baghra has a sister and other kids (according to google) but we never see them in the main trilogy and idk if they’re seen in other books in the series. As their line goes on, some of them going mad could be a consistent thing.

A cool power they could have when given an amplifier is the ability to make people do terrible things. You know how I said their brains are kinda fucked and it’s like a shadow is over their brain? They have the power to cast that shadow over other peoples brains and push them to do fucked up shit. Whether it be the darker thoughts that particular person has, or whatever that Shadow Summoner wills them to do. This could only be broken by a Sun Summoner’s interference

Do y’all know the line in Fear Street when Sarah Fier curses the Goodes and says that everytime they hurt someone, they’ll feel the grip of her hand and she’ll never let them go? If you don’t, that fine. Just keep following-

Kirigan feels like he was wronged in the end. In his head, everything he did was ok because it was for a bigger goal. So, he made an oath/vow/curse/however you wanna look at it, of his own. Everytime someone in his family line is wronged, they will feel the grip of his hand guiding them to get revenge. They’ll feel his hands on their shoulders, hear him whispering in their ear, and feel their rage rise until they get revenge. And their version of revenge is very bloody.

Imagine it for a second. Alina stabbing him and as he’s dying, he makes this vow. Alina is confused because she has no knowledge of any other Shadow Summoners being alive. Since she’ll more than likely live for hundreds of years, she eventually finds out that he had a lot more tricks up his sleeve.

Shadow Summoners adapt to war fast

Shadow Summoners are rare. They’re a submissive gene and it tends to skip generations

Shadow Summoners are obviously not allowed to get together because they share an ancestor, but it’s also because that whole shadow over the brain thing gets worse if two of them have a baby. The kid is guaranteed to be a Shadow Summoner, but they’re also 99% guaranteed to go mad

Shadow Summoners are still feared. Everyone is worried about them following in Kirigan’s footsteps. They’re so scared, that they made a separate area for them in the Little Palace (once they were finally allowed in) because everyone felt tense around them

Them controlling peoples shadows and traveling by merging with their own shadow? Let’s discuss

I feel like I have more but this is all I remember now. I think we as a community should start making up more lore for this universe because it’s fun. Especially for the rare types of Grisha like Sun and Shadow Summoners.

[brewed-pangolin]

Drabble request for Super Soap Sunday:

Soap and you find yourselves in an unusual place/set of circumstances when the mood strikes. How does he A) let you know what he wants and B) how does he get you in the mood too?

Domestic Bliss

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x Fem Reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI: Explicit smut, some fingering, P in V, backseat sex, slightly Dom-ish Soap, tons of dirty banter, Soap being a needy little horn dog

This 'drabble' turned into a one-shot because I can't control myself.

Synopsis: You and Soap take the next step in your relationship, and his not so subtle attempt to rile you up in public ends with an impromptu session in the parking lot.

Reference for where this man takes you to Poundtown here

Word count: 2k

"Alright, ma'am. If I can just you to sign here, here, and here. Then we should be all set up." Your advisor instructed as you sifted through yet another mountain of paperwork. Your eyes growing numb and your fingers beginning to ache from the repeated minor motion of signing your life away.

You pushed the last pile of paperwork over the advisors desk with gentle smile curling into your lips. Glancing over at the man sitting next to you with that same smile, a loving fondness in your eyes as you both took the next pivotal step in your relationship.

A mortgage.

Soap's demeanor was calm. Stoic even. Letting you take the lead in this circumstance as you were the one going to habitate the home more often than he would. A thought you both pushed aside for now to savor the wave of domestic bliss that came along after you signed the final piece of paperwork.

Yet his cool facade couldn't hide the cerulean maelstrom swirling within the whites of his eyes. A look you knew all too well, and one that never failed to send a quick shiver down your spine.

But here? At the bank?

Your smile quickly curled into a smirk, rolling your eyes at him as you turned your attention back to the advisor across the desk. You couldn't feed into Soap's growing needy desires. Not in public at least.

Pursing your lips with a heavy sigh, you tried to maintain your composure by focusing on the task at hand. Eyes trained to the quick movements of fingers across the keyboard as your consultant effortlessly entered your information into the database.

However, even the light clicking of keys couldn't keep your attention as you caught the sudden tremor of his knee in the lower periphery of your vision. The frantic cadence of his boot heel hitting the floor tearing at your concentration yet again, forcing you the bring the knuckles of your right hand up to your mouth to hide the apparent grin quickly forming on your lips.

With as subtle movement as possible, you placed your left hand on the top of his knee to quell his growing feverish motion. Gripping your fingers into the fabric of his jeans and pushing towards the floor in a physical attempt to ease his obviously heightening arousal.

“Ookay. That’s done. Let me get this all printed out and you two should be all set.” 

“Thank you, sir. Appreciate all your help with this.”

You share a quick glance with your advisor as he stands, his eyes momentarily shifting to Soap with a subtle curl in the corner of his mouth. You keep a close eye on him as he exits the office, finally turning to face Soap with a furrowed brow and address the apparent tension erupting between you two.

“Jesus Christ, Johnny. Would you please calm down?” You scolded playfully. Your lips a thin line of a smile, obscuring your clenched teeth as you dug your fingers further into his jeans.

“How much fuckin’ longer is this gonna take, bonnie? ‘Cause I'm 'bout to bend ya over this goddamn desk if he don't speed this shit up. He can bloody watch for all I care.” 

"We're almost done, Johnny. He just needs to give us the paperwork, and then we can go. So just, keep it in your pants for another five fuckin' minutes."

Your tone of reprimand barely able to combat the deep, rumbling brogue in his voice. Shifting slightly in your seat to quell the growing ache pulsing within your core. A gesture that most certainly did not go unnoticed as you took in the hungry blaze radiating within his eyes.

"Johnny. Don't. No!" Your frivolous attempt to stop him was broken down immediately as he thrusted his hand between your legs. Pressing his knuckles into the base of your heat through your jeans. Shifting to bring his chair closer and caress his mouth and tease you with his whispering brogue to the nape of your neck.

"Gonna fuckin' wreck ya, bonnie. Forget th'mortgage. This my down payment fer tha sweet pussy a'yers."

"Goddamit, MacTavish. Not here, ya fuckin' horn dog."

"Horn dog?" He questions with that distinctly mischievous grin. Pulling away as he eyed your advisor walking back into the office. His calmness in complete contrast to the excited flush bellowing from your chest as you quickly swat his hand away, scolding him quietly under your breath.

"Overconfident bastard."

"Alright. You two are all set up. You should be getting a call within the next five business days once you qualify. Other than that, welcome to home ownership."

"Thank you." You shook your advisor's hand, grabbed at your paperwork, and made an immediate bee line for the door. Beating Soap at his own game as you left him in the office with an obvious growing hard on. Already midway to the exit of the bank when you eyed him barreling out of the office in your periphery.

You didn't want to lose focus again. Not now. Now when you had the upper hand. You Kept your eyes locked onto the 4Runner at the back of the parking lot as your feet moved quickly at their own accord. Your ears perking to the sound of its alarm, a wave of triumph rolling over you as the locks sprung free.

You opened the backseat passenger door to toss your purse and paperwork on the seat. Expecting to see Soap at the driver side as you tried to close the door.

Tried.

You glanced questioningly at the door. Only then did you notice Soap's hand gripping on the edge. Spinning on your heels as you came face to face with a fiery blaze and a hungry look in his eyes.

"John?"

"Get in."

"John?!"

"GET IN!"

You felt his hands on your hips the moment his voice registered within your mind. Thrusting you into the back seat, an excitedly victorious giggle escaping your chest as he crawled in before slamming the door behind him.

"Yer such a fuckin' lit'le minx, y'know that? Leavin' me th're wit a full bloody stonner." He growled, pulling your shoes off and tossing them to the side, frantically moving to the front of your jeans as you continued to laugh in triumph at his feverish need.

"Makin' me do the goddamn walk o' shame and...why are these fuckin' buttons so goddamn small?!"

"Ooohhh, what happened to that cool confidence, Soap? Thought you could handle yourself under pressure. Bein' a demolitions expert an' all."

"Yer pushin' it, lass." He spat back. Relinquishing the fight with the buttons in favor of simply tearing your jeans off.

"M'also not tryin'a fuck tha bombs, smartass."

Soap tossed your garments to the back, flaring his nostrils with a darkened veil in his eyes as he spread your legs to take in the sight of your silken arousal. Moving onto his haunches with a deep inhale, his eyes rolling back as he took in the scent of your growing excitement.

“Mhmm. Could smell tha’ sweet pussy in th’re. An’ ya already so fuckin’ wet fer me, aren’t ya, bonnie?”

Words escaped you as he pushed two of his fingers inside your soaking heat, your eyes fluttering closed as he slowly pumped up to his knuckle, teasingly preparing you for what was to come. Unable to restrain your body’s reaction as your walls reflexively clenched around him.

“Donnae think I didn’t feel tha’. I know what ya need, lass. An’ m’gonna give it to ya.” Soap lured to you with a husky purr, your eyes fluttering open in response to take in the sight of him stroking himself through his jeans. His steely blue gaze boring into your soul as he effortlessly worked at the buckle of his belt. A throaty growl reverberating within him as he teasingly pushed the waist of his jeans below his hips to expose his painfully hardened cock.

"Johnny, I-" Your pleasured whimper was cut short as he throw his muscular frame on top of you, sealing his mouth over yours in a wet and desperately needy kiss. His strong hands gripping into the flesh of your thighs, guiding them around his waist as he teasingly pushed his throbbing erection into your moistened cunt. Filling you to the brim in one fluid thrust.

"Th's s'my home, bonnie. Right 'ere. B'tween yer legs an' deep in th's beautiful fuckin' pussy a 'yers."

Soap didn't give you time or air to respond as he encapsulated your mouth once more and immediately began pistoning himself into your core. The force of his thrusts wiping whatever thoughts and words out your mind, only focusing on the feel of him as he caged you against the backseat with his arms bent on either side of your head.

"Steamin' hell yer tight, lass." Soap growled into your lips, pressing his chest down into yours, keeping you still and allowing him full reign to pound his hardened length into your heat.

His bulbous tip kissing the flesh of your cervix with each forward thrust before pulling out almost entirely to only throw himself back into you once more. The continuous motion forcing your back to arch off the backseat, pushing your pelvis into his to stimulate the sensitive flesh of your clit.

Soap pulled his mouth away in repsonse to your shifting position, leaning forward to press his forehead into the crook of your neck. His hot breath cascading down your skin as he grunted and moaned with every subsequent thrust, his relentless pounding forcing you to grip into his shoulders to keep yourself stable beneath him.

"Johnny...Johnny..." you whispered softly against his temple. His name the only coherent word you could manage to let fall from your lips as your mind and body fell into the depths of his desperate and needy pleasure.

"Jus'...lemme 'ave th's, bonnie."

"Only g'nna need...an'ther minute.."

Soap's gasping breaths washed over the flesh of your neck, his voice rumbling within his throat like an otherworldly mixture of a growling whimper.

And the moment you felt his hips begin to falter, you pushed aisde your own pleasure in favor of reaching his. Only focusing on him. His needs. His desperate compulsion to always need to fill you and mark you as his own.

"C'mon, bonnie. Come for me."

You responded to his grunting demand by simply pressing your lips to the flesh of his temple. Wrapping your arms and legs around him tightly, letting him vigorously thrust his throbbing cock into your cunt until you felt the warmth of his release erupt deep inside you.

Soap's movements then halted all together. Burying himself into your heat as he rode out the relentless pulses of his climax.

Even within this impromptu moment, with him panting against your neck and you hunched beneath him in the backseat, there was always a certain level of intimacy that seemed to meld between you in the bliss of the afterglow. Cradling him in your arms as he slumped over in a limp and gasping mess.

"Fuckin hell, bonnie." He whispered, softly panting against your neck as he lightly pursed his lips against your neck.

"Jesus, Johnny. If I knew home ownership got ya this worked up, I'd it done years ago."

"Shut it, lass."

"Can't wait to see how hard ya get when I do my taxes."

Soap remained silent to your playful banter, responding only by continuing to kiss the curve of your neck as his body trembled, slowly coming down from the high of his release.

His mouth gently curled into a smile as he placed a series of gentle kisses up the nape of your neck. Chiding in once more to your jesting, his distinctive brogue thicker and more hoarse as he purred against your flesh.

"Won't 'ave ta, hen. Unless yer 'nta doin' a threesome."

"What?" You questioned, pulling him out of your neck to meet his steely blue gaze with a coitish smile.

"Uncle Sam already fucks ya in the ass, bonnie. It's the only time I'm yer designated sloppy side piece."

You can't hide the smile that emerged over your lips, pushing a piece of sweat ridden hair out of his eyes as you lovingly gaze up at him.

"Then I guess I'll be needing another down payment in advance. Just for good measure."

And of course, Soap obliges. Thrusting his still hardened cock deep into your core as he mutters those two words you love to hear.

"Yes, ma'am."

4Runner Wingman Masterlist

@deadbranch @sofasoap @d3athtr4psworld @punishmepunisher @jynxmirage @obligatoryghoststare @mykneeshurt @glitterypirateduck @homicidal-slvt @shotmrmiller @astraluminaaa @kkaaaagt @havoc973 @writeforfandoms @luismickydees

[selamat-linting]

y/n reader fantasies are a little embarrassing. i admit it. but, my fantasy of becoming tony montana's personal enemy that he always beats up by hand but never kill despite us being opposites in ideology and career is different i swear!!!

[betawooper]

i was sick and every screen except my phone at 0% was personally burning my eyeballs up for the past two days so ive just inhaled like 2 webcomics to pass the time and now

<-- guy who is punching the floor /positive

[moinsbienquekaworu]

There's these girls in my year - and I try not to judge people based on if they put makeup on or whatever because like, judging other women for their hobbies and appearance is shitty and we're trying to be good people here, but by god do I want to punch them. Every time I hear them talk I have to remind myself that even though some people are annoying and make me want to hit them it does not actually matter, but by god, by god.... Shitting on the one good invested professor we have this year ("god do we have her this time? The one who dressed up for class? Cringe"), the way they speak, the fact they keep mentioning fanfiction but they don't mean like, weird little fandom stuff, just shitty copy pasted wattpad straight love triangles with the BTS or whatever... Punchable punchable punchable punchable. These girls were popular in middle and high school. They keep being annoying about fanfic but in The normiest way I have ever seen. They would have talked in my back and if I showed them a Snarry fic they would explode.

[coweye]

The Honda Odyssey

Logan Howlett x Reader | smut | 6k words Summary: The car fight reimagined and it only needed to be like 10% more erotic than the original.

I got carried away. I just love Wolvie so much. I'm so happy Logan is getting the adoration he deserves. Long live the Wolverine renaissance.

Warning: smut, p in v, ass play, foul language.

If you had to pinpoint a moment when your life became the shit show it had steadily developed into, you’d say it was the moment you auditioned for X-Force.

In your tenure as besties with Wade Wilson, it's fair to say things hadn’t gone smoothly. The man was a conduit to all things fucked up, but you adored his loose morals and quick mouth. The idiot in red had weaselled his way into your heart and became something of a brother to you and more recently a roommate.

Now, if you’d have told your younger self you’d be in your late twenty’s sharing an apartment with a burn victim who regularly staples a toupee to his fucking head and a coke-head, blind, old African American woman, you’d have laughed in their fucking face.

So, you’d like to think that as these things go you are pretty damn well adjusted but traversing the multiverse was a bit of a stretch, even for you.

One moment you’re at Wade’s surprise party, the next your ass has been zapped to the TVA and you’ve been given a sacred mission; to accompany Marvel Jesus (Wade) and protect the sacred timeline.

Naturally you’re fucking mind blown, you’re a low-level mutant, fuck, you couldn’t even join the X-Men.  Your particular set of skills were a dime a dozen and your flagrant disregard of rules had made you a ‘poor candidate’.

No, the mutant powers you had been graced with weren’t extraordinary by any means. You were basically an off-brand Captain America, just without the gorgeous cheekbones, patriotism and righteous need to do good.

In layman terms, you are strong as shit and have an accelerated healing factor. Not quite the same level as Wade’s mind you. You have, give or take, an inconvenient five-minute turnaround on the more fatally debilitating wounds.

To say you were unqualified was an understatement and to say you were reluctant was a simple fact. A fact you repeated, loudly to anyone that would listen as you were bathed in rich black leather.

“I think maybe you meant to grab negasonic teenage whatchacallit… she’s great, super powerful!” You continue. “Did you mean to get Domino or Colossus or maybe one of the X-Men? “

“No Miss Y/L/N. We have not got the wrong person for the job.” The man you later find out is called Paradox, calls out as you re-enter the operation headquarters. “Mr Wilson requested your presence; he wanted your assistance on his mission.”

“Y/N/N… ten out of ten, baby girl, I one hundred percent would bang. I’m talking raw dog, Barry White on a rug, let’s go all fuckin’ night.”  Wade hollers in his own brand-new suit and even you must admit, you look fucking amazing. “Sweet angel, we’ve just gotta’ come up with a superhero name for you!”

You are enrobed in rich thick black and teal leather, your first ever hero suit and it’s a fucking good one. It doesn’t cling, but instead pulls you in securing your flesh and extenuating curves, ones you hadn’t entirely realised you had. The bottom half your face is concealed with a mask, carefully crafted to follow the contours of your nose and cheekbones.

You’d barely recognised the mysterious figure in the mirror.

“Right?! Tailor was pretty handsy though!”

“Oh yeah, ha! - that man is indeed a predator.” Wade says with a chuckle and a fond sigh.

It shames to you to say but that’s when you stopped fighting this whole thing. You looked the part of a hero; you thought that maybe the TVA knew what they were doing. That they had seen something in you and knew that you had a good heart under all the darkness that lingered on the surface.

Wrong.

You were just a demand Wade had made. He wanted his number one disciple at his side whilst he carried out his sacred mission. You were part of an attempt at appeasing him whilst they destroyed your timeline.

Little more than a pawn to be used whilst they manipulated him into a false sense of security.

Thus, you were thrown into a series of events far beyond your control when Wade being Wade decided you were hunting down a Wolverine to stabilise the timeline, only to be once again fucking zapped into some place they called the void by that little English shitbird named Paradox. It’s entirely accurate to say that you were a little less sturdy than your compadres.

Unfortunately for you, the fall from such a height into the void was fatal. When you finally awake in the desolate wasteland to the sounds of blades clashing it is disorientating to say the least.

Forcing yourself to your feet you lower your mask and gasp in the sweet strangely stale oxygen as you stretch out your newly healed spine with a groan. It was impossible to tell how long you were out as you take in the scene before you; Wade and the Wolverine are engaged in a heated battle. From the looks of it, Logan is winning this fight despite being the human equivalent of a knife block with Wade’s katanas protruding from his chest.

For a moment you pause, perhaps its head trauma that hasn’t healed (He’s fucking Deadpool, he can look after himself for two minutes) and appreciate his form, the Wolverine the two of you had kidnapped was gorgeous. Tch, as if there was any other kind.

Sure, you were biased you’d always been somewhat of a fangirl, but the Wolverine was objectively breath-taking.

You’d indulged in comics whilst growing up but when you found out he was real and looked the way he did, hell, Wolverine was your sexual awakening. He was the first man to make you feel that tingle in your lower stomach. Yes, you may have been thirteen years old, a ball of puppy fat and social anxiety but you’d been waiting for him ever since. 

You’re snapped out of your reverie when Wade loses baby knife in Logan’s shoulder blade, finally you spring into action. In good time as well as you’re not sure if even Deadpool can survive decapitation.

In the singularly most stupid act of your life you throw yourself in front of your friend’s body. “Wait, Wait! Please!”  

Wade has paused behind you, you can feel him weighing up the situation, pausing for a moment to see what you’re going to pull out of the bag.

“The TVA they can fix it, whatever you did, whatever made you the worst Logan, they can fix it! – They have the power to end universes, but they also have the power to fix yours! Help us get back there and we can fix both of our worlds! I promise, they can fix it.” You plead, it’s not quite a lie exactly, more of an Educated Wish than anything.

Okay it is a lie, but you’re sure that the TVA can most likely, probably, maybe fix his world.

Logan’s eyes lock with yours in that moment you can see that he wants to kill you both and be done with it, but that hope won’t let him. You feel a smidgen of guilt for the deceit, but frankly you’ve done worse for less. Your world was on the line it wasn’t the time to pull your punches.

Fast forward four exhausting hours, two periods of unconsciousness and one flaying to find yourself sat opposite Wade gagging down cold spoonful’s of Spam in some dusty ass diner.

You were no better than a man as you watched the Wolverine.

Those arms, those thighs, the way he had beheaded Sabretooth without even breaking a fucking sweat. You wanted him to wrap those instruments of death he called hands around your throat and fuck you dirty until the sun came up.

It had been a long exhausting day and you had been soaking wet for most of it.

Shit, could he smell that? Does that count as sexual harassment? You’d have to ask Wade.

Logan, however, was utterly dismissive of your advances in the face of what was undoubtedly utterly horrific past trauma. Something you were trying to be understanding about, but self-pity in a man, it just turned you on. I said you had some surface layers of darkness.

Unable to help yourself you gaze at him as he opens a bottle of rubbing alcohol. You are utterly entranced, watching the thick chords in his throat bob as he takes a swig.

That tanned skin where his jaw ends and neck begins, slick with sweat and dirt. You’d love to sink your canines into the strip below his ear. He must feel your stare on him as he looks up and catches your eyes dark with lust already surveying his person.

It should embarrass you, that every time he peers your way, he catches you gaping at him like a lovesick puppy, but there’s something about Logan you can’t quite put your finger on. The man heats your blood like nothing you’ve ever experienced before, maybe it’s that torch you’ve carried for him since girlhood, maybe it’s the thick thighs you’d kill to ride – who can say for sure?

In what you assume is against his better judgement, he comes to perch on the booth beside you. His broad shoulders cast an imposing figure as he gets close enough that if you were to move your hand a couple of inches to the right, you’d finally be able to touch that yellow fabric that plagued your tween dreams.

You’re burning up at the thought of him, unable to stop yourself you part your legs slightly to ease some of the pressure. Logans nose twitches, his head swivels your way and his eyes catch your own.  

Welp - at least you have your answer about him smelling your arousal.

Deciding that you were most likely verging on sexual harassment charges you decided to focus back in on the task at hand, gagging once again at another spoonful of spam.

“Be a good girl and swallow, Y/N/N, you know the rules!” Wade jokes, your chortle was your only response. What could you say? He always hit your funny bone despite the ocean that was raging in your panties.

Logan stares at Wade for a long moment before turning to your way and addressing you for maybe only the fourth time today?

“What are you doing with this fucking clown? You his sidekick? Following him round to laugh at his stupid fucking jokes whilst he gets kids killed?”

“Why I have never.” Wade is faux outraged at his words, clutching his imaginary pearls as the Wolverine throws around accusations that aren’t entirely untrue.

The Wolverine’s expression remains stern as his eyes track your face. They seem to be evaluating your character and from the flare in his nose and crease in his brow you can guess he finds you lacking. You’re embarrassed to admit how much that deflates you, so you do what you do best; you deflect.

 “I could follow you around and laugh at your jokes instead, if you like?” When you speak your voice has a sultry edge to it and there’s no mistaking your intentions.

Logan seems to think on your proposition for a second or two, before he huffs grabs his rubbing alcohol and unopened can of Spam and heads over to sit at the bar.

“Holy hot ham and cheese on rye, Y/N, you fucking slut.” Wade berates you though his voice is as light as it’s always been as he boots your shin under the table. “Trying to your holes filled by Wolvie during a world saving mission, Marvel H Christ, stay on fucking task!”

You swear you hear Logan mutter a Jesus Christ from the bar.

Though as Wade continues irritating the hero hunched against bar, you can’t help the realisation that he didn’t say no.

“You’re uh… well regarded in our world.” Wade complements, being real doesn’t come easy to him. You appreciate the effort.

“Well, I’m not shit in mine.”

“I tried to join the X-Men because of you.” You speak up finally joining their conversation. Wolverine’s back goes rigid, but he doesn’t respond. You’re not sure if he’s waiting for you to continue or hoping you’ll stop. “You made a difference to this world, made me think I could do the same. I just never quite make the cut.”

Logan doesn’t seem to have a response.

It seems your words have an effect as you catch him watching you more often. When Wade makes his jokes, he looks to you for validation of his withering looks.

You’re probably more distracted by this revelation than you should be when the three of you come across a real nasty variant of Colossus seeking out Wade for… you want to say… revenge?

The not-so-gentle-anymore-giant flips the Honda and tosses both Wade and Logan through the treeline as they advance on him as if they were little more than toys his mother had asked him to pick up.

One by one your bullets ricochet from his metal skin as he comes towards you. You aren’t built for this fight; you are completely and utterly outmatched.

All you’re doing at this point is buying yourself some time for your backup to pull themselves from the rubble, however during a particularly spirited cartwheel the metal oaf finally gets his hands on you. Colossus’ metal palm is cold on your throat, and you could swear you hear your neck snapping before you feel it.  

With a gasp you return to life to find a slightly dishevelled Logan standing above you. By the grace of god, his sleeves have been worn away in the fight, his arms, oh sweet lord, his arms are on full display.

“Thought you were a goner.” He offers you a hand when you simply stare mutely his way. Locking your fingers around his wrist he pulls you to your feet. You don’t release your hold on him and neither does he.

“Don’t throw the party just yet, eh?” You joke weakly, for a second you could swear there’s a slight raise of the corner of his mouth, imperceptible, if you didn’t know what you were looking for. In the past few hours you had become an expert on Wolverine’s face.  

Your mouth is dry as you take in his thick sweat laden biceps.

“Where’s Wade?” You query whilst rolling your aching neck as you haven’t heard his voice in a record thirty seconds, Logan suddenly remembers himself and drops your hand.

“’fraid Metal man took your clown, was pissed with him and can’t say I blame the guy.”

“Shit.” You sigh rubbing your temples as you kneel to pick up the dismembered arm of your best friend. “Well – fuck. That’ll take him a few hours at least to grow back – He’ll be so sad about his suit.”

You peel the fabric from the limb and tuck it under the breast plate of your own suit. Wade will want his glove back when it grows back.

“He say where he was taking him?”

“Oh yeah, that along with his plan for world domination...” Logan huffs as if your mere presence annoys him.

“Thought you didn’t like sarcasm.”

“I like sarcasm just fine, Bub. It’s you I don’t like.” You can’t help but smile his way at the comment made at your expense, his brows crease. “You’re a strange one.”

“Can you do your sniffy thing?”  Its impressive, you thought he’d reached the limit with his scathing looks towards Wade, yet he somehow manages to pull a deeper frown out the vault especially for you.

“Sniffy thing?” His words are spoken with such derision, it turns you on a little. You realise that perhaps you are in fact a deeply troubled individual.

“Oh, sorry.” You pretend to clear a frog in your throat. “Please, oh, please, beautiful, handsome Wolverine, please can you locate my bestest pal with your heightened sense of smell?” His face doesn’t break despite your hands clasped in front of your chin.

“You’re just as fucking annoying as that moron.” He huffs “Get in the fucking car, we’ll follow his trail.”

“You can smell him from the car?”

“The blood, Jesus Fucking Christ, there’s a trail of blood.”

“Ah.” Is all you reply as you find your seat in the passenger side and start your own one on one team up with Wolverine. Its not exactly the way you imagined it, but beggars certainly can’t be choosers.

After a few moments of sullen silence, you decide that there’s no time like the present to form a long-lasting bond.

“What’s your world like?”

“None of your fucking business.”

“Okay... What’s the first thing you’re gonna’ do if they can save your world? I bet its something boring as fuck, like team-“

“What did you just say?”

“I bet you’re gonna do something boring like-“

“No before that.”

“What’s the first thing you’re gonna’ do if they save your world?” You question, his sudden interest in your words takes you by surprise as he has been vacant from your conversation.

The breaks suddenly shriek as the car comes to a stop.

“What do you mean if?”

“I…”

“You said they could fix my world. Undo it all, is what you fucking said.”

“I mean I think they can!”

“You fucking liar.” The edge to The Wolverine’s voice is terrifying. The realisation trickles down your spine, Logan has been nice to you all this time, you’re finally meeting The Wolverine.

“I didn’t lie!” For some reason you’re ashamed of your deceit, you’ve murdered countless people and still, you’ve felt less remorse. Logan’s eyes pin you in your seat as disgust clouds his face. It hurts more than you can fathom. “Not exactly, I think they can fix your world! – I needed your help and if you killed Wade there was no hope for my universe!”

“I don’t give a flying fuck about your universe!” He spits your way; his hands are gripping the wheel in what seems like an effort to keep his cool.

“I know, but I do!” You cry back at him. “You know how to save the world, you’re the fucking Wolverine! I know how to kill people, but this hero shit, this isn’t me!”

“Ha! No shit.” There is pure hate in the man’s eyes as he stares back at you.

“Please, you’re Logan. Whether you’re the worst one or not - You’re still better than me.”

“Get out of the fucking car.” The words come from between clenched teeth and are filled with warning.

“No – fuck you.”  Your rage breaks the banks to meet Logan’s. Perhaps it’s the guilt, maybe it’s the fear for Wade but something within you snaps at his constant bad temper. “It was an educated guess and a fucking reasonable one at that, get the fuck over yourself you big bird wannabe geriatric fucker! “

He slams his palms on the steering wheel, his nose flares and his teeth clamp together.  “Fuck me? Fuck you – you sad pathetic excuse for a side-kick. No wonder the X-Men wouldn’t take you, and they’ll take fuckin’ anyone. You are a ridiculous, immature, moron who spends her days following around a fucking clown to avoid facing the reality that you are no one. I have never met a sadder, more attention starved asshole in my entire life. You were right about one thing, you’re no fucking hero.”

Its shameful the way your stomach drops, and your eyes involuntarily begin to tear. To hear your hero say the words you’ve thought about yourself whilst laying awake at night. It’s a knife to the gut.

“Nothing to fucking say, huh, Angel?” The use of Wade’s nickname for you is like sandpaper on your skin, it rubs you the wrong fucking way.

“I am going to hurt you now.” Your voice is barely a broken whisper.

“You’re going to hurt – “His faux chortle is cut short by a swift punch to his face. You’re worried you may have been overzealous with your swing when his nose begins bleeding. The Wolverine is stunned for only a moment before he grabs the back of your neck and proceeds with smashing your face into the dashboard and those concerns are quickly put to bed.

The old fucker is strong, but you don’t think he’ll kill you, yet another educated wish.

“Not so tough now…” He shouts as the radio channels change with your skull. Pulling a knife from your leg strap you embed it in his thigh and pull the lever to recline your seat whilst he’s distracted, luckily, you’re not there when he swings for retribution.

Though one of his fucking steak knives catches your upper arm slicing through the leather. Warm blood trickles down your arm, staining the beige interior of the poor Honda. 

Your legs are your strongest asset, so when he attempts to restrain you with the seatbelt, you are presented with your window of opportunity. You wrap them around his neck as you pivot your hips slamming the Wolverine headfirst into the metal of the door. Once, twice, three times - on the fourth he lands a fist to your gut, luckily, he has retracted his claws.

If he was willing to kill you, you wouldn’t stand a chance.

You’re winded struggling to catch your breath from the gut punch, but you manage pull the knife from his thigh that is nestled between your legs and thrust it into his neck, you aim for the spot you’d fantasied about kissing before he’d torn your character apart piece by piece, now you just want to bathe in his fucking blood.

It was the pain that instantaneously made his claws extend. He’s quick to move them, though he slices through the sides of your suit as he buries them in the chair behind you. Your ribs are a bloodied mess though you don’t care, in a few hours they’ll be good as new.

Logan has seized the opportunity and has your arms pinned to your sides, his blood has cooled a little more than yours, he doesn’t seem to want to murder you over an argument.

Perhaps he’s more well-adjusted than yourself, that thought alone should concern you, except it just enrages you further.

“You stupid fuckin-“The Wolverine starts admonishing you, before you swing your head forward and headbutt him.

Yes.

You really do that.

You headbutt the man with the adamantium fucking skeleton– at full strength. Its sheer dumb luck you don’t crack your own skull in the process– maybe Logan was right, you are fucking dumb.

“Fucking fuck!” You cry grabbing your forehead and writhing. Noone wins with a headbutt, except Logan apparently.

“Fucking stop that.” Your writhing has pushed your core against his crotch, and he is already packing quite the heat at what feels like half-mast. He grabs your hips to stop your movement, but it only seems to push you closer. “Stop fucking moving.”

The constant arousal you’ve felt since meeting him returns in double time, Logan’s nostrils flare and his eyes darken. It’s debased and you’re ashamed that you want him, you haven’t stopped wanting him, despite the awful fucking words that left his mouth minutes ago.

“Like … a little pain Wolvie?”

Its relief you feel, you think, when instead of answering or punching you in the face, he closes the gap.

The Wolverine’s claws retract, and he grabs at your chin. Logan’s mouth utterly devours your own, your front tooth clashes with his own as you push yourself upwards, you pull your knife out of his neck, catching his grunt of pain on your tongue as you begin licking your way down his thick throat.

The vein you’d spotted hours ago is throbbing freshly healed, you sink your canines into the flesh and its as good as you’d fucking imagine. His groan is utterly beast-like as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against him.

The Wolverine’s throat tastes like salt and iron. Thick, tangy and warm on your tongue as you soothe the bite. It drives Logan wild, thrusting his hardened member against your warmth. One of his gloved hands rises to lock on the back of your neck to pull you into yet another earth-shattering kiss.  His sharp hot tongue slides against your own, exploring the expanses of your mouth like its his to claim.

You bite at him again then, your teeth catching his bottom lip sharply.  Logan groans into your mouth before you use every ounce of your enhanced strength to throw him backwards against the dashboard.

He is taken utterly by surprise as his head slams into the windscreen cracking the glass with a grunt. When he looks your way Logan’s eyes are blackened with desire, he is utterly wild.

Slowly as if afraid to make any sudden moves, you unzip your combat boots, your eyes never leaving his. One boot and then the next.

You thank the TVA’s tailor for making your suit a two piece as you shuffle backwards into the backseat, pushing the thick leather down your legs all whilst maintaining eye contact with the beast leaning against the dashboard.

“You sure you want this Darlin’?”

“Darlin’?” You question mockingly, your voice lowering to imitate his own, as you wantonly spread your legs, your bare leg resting next to the headrest. Only a pair of black cotton panties separate him from your most intimate parts and his eyes are locked on your clothed core. “a second ago it was ‘Pathetic Moron’ to you.”

Your head tilts in question as his eyes lock back on your own, you think perhaps for a moment something akin to regret passes over his face, but you’ve never been entirely comfortable with feelings, so you drop your hand into the waistband of your panties, you’ve barely circled your opening with your pointer finger before he’s on you.

“That’s my job, you fucking Moron.” He plunges two bare thick fingers into your heat. Gasping you throw your head back against the headrest, it’s a tight fit and its been a while but the slight burn eases some of the aching in your core.  “You’re fuckin’ soaking wet, you like it huh, bub? Making me bleed?”

Your grab his jaw, your nails digging into his flesh. “I’d like to bathe in-” He scissors his fingers finding that spot inside you and you let out an embarrassing noise, somewhere between a gasp and a moan. “-Your fucking blood… you mean motherfucker.”

You’re an absolute goner when he starts rubbing your clit, after a day of foreplay your body seizes, and you grab at the nape of his neck trying to find something to anchor you down. But as fast as the build was you come tumbling down just as quickly, when he cruelly withdraws his hands.

“No! - Wha- what the fuck?!” You’re almost crying as your torn from the precipice.

Logan flips you over onto your stomach before you can complain any further, your face down on the filthy upholstery as he pulls your panties from your hips. You can’t see him from this angle, though you can feel his warm hands tracing the globes of your ass.

You force your knees further apart, pushing your bare soaking pussy against the tight bulge of his yellow suit. If you had enough of your facilities about you, you’d be embarrassed that you’re currently rubbing your cunt against The Wolverine like a bitch in heat after he’d chewed you out only minutes ago.

Logan’s hand dip between your thighs, his fingers swirl along your hole, dragging your wetness along to your aching clit.

“You think I’d make it that easy?” He asks as he continues the journey back and forth. On the second pass he dips his finger inside of you for a fraction of a second before resuming its path. “What do you want, darlin’?”

You weren’t going to beg, in fact you bit your tongue to stop the traitorous words from forming, this man had already made you abandon most of your self-respect, he wasn’t having this.

“Logan…” At your breathy words the man leans forward, pressing his fabric covered cock into your ass as he folds his body over yours. One hand comes down next to your shoulder, the other explore your tits as he rocks himself into your throbbing core. It’s the perfect storm as he nuzzles into your exposed throat but somehow you manage your words. “Fuck me or don’t, I’m not begging, bub.”

He exhales through his nose in what you guess is equal parts amusement and annoyance, but you’re far beyond caring. He places a bite on the spot where your throat meets your shoulder as his body pulls back. Momentarily his hands leave your hips to deal with his own pants. You hear the clank of his belt hitting the car floor moments before you feel the head of his cock, running along your folds.

The head of his cock is thick, and it feels hot to the touch as he runs it along your slick. All of a sudden Logan pushes forward and sheathes himself inside of you with a single thrust.

You try your best to hold in your incoherent moans but to little avail as he pulls back before slamming full force back into you. If you were a human woman, your pelvis would’ve shattered from the force of his hips against your ass, instead you gather your strength and push back, allowing him deeper. The both of you moan in unison at the depth he reaches.

You grab onto the foam of the seat, ripping through the fabric with your bare hands desperate for an anchor as Logan unforgivingly pounds into you from behind, once again he folds his body over yours, wrapping a palm around your clawed fingers.

“.” He grunts something incoherent into your ear as he picks up the pace, slamming into you repeatedly, slowly picking up his pace. Your core is positively aching as you throb around him, pulling him deeper within you.  If you were expecting any further explanation, you’re sorely disappointed.

The wolverine pulls back, gripping at your hips keeping you still as he resumes his powerful strokes.  Logan’s hand dips to your clit, rubbing quick circles sending you barrelling back towards your orgasm. As you begin to clench around him, he pulls your body upwards, his head brushing against the top of the car as he holds you against him his fingers never leaving your clit.

“Come on my cock, Angel.” Unable to stop yourself you clench around him, hearing him talk like that does something primal to you.

You fucking loved Logan’s mouth, you bet he ate pussy like a champion if he played the clit this fucking well.

You stopped fighting it and threw yourself from the cliff, shattering in his thick muscle veined arms as he held you up against him, his cock still viciously plundering your depths.

“You’re so fucking tight.” He whispers against your neck whispers peppering it with bites.

Logan gives you a few moments to come down from your high before he resumes his punishing pace, you think perhaps you’ve reached your limit of pleasure, that the threshold can’t possibly be topped until he whispers into your ear in that gruff voice.

“What was it Wilson said? Filling all your holes?” The Wolverine asks, his eyes meet yours over your shoulder meaningfully, asking permission as he offers you his thumb. You merely moan your approval and wantonly draw his finger into your mouth, soaking the pad in saliva.  

Logan yanks your head into a vicious kiss. It’s a messy one, filled to the brim with need. The hand not currently locked on your neck holding your face to his, travels down your back, through the valley of your bodies. The pad of his pinky runs appreciatively over the globe of your ass, before his hand dips into the crease.

Logan’s thumb runs teasingly against the tight ring of muscle, it’s a foreign experience which makes you startle slightly.

“Anyone ever fucked you here?” He asks as he bites down your neck, delicately pushing you forward until your head rests on the backseat. You shake your head as your eyes close, his cock is buried balls deep within you as he plays with your asshole.

When his thumb finally breaches your tight hole just past the nail, he begins his thrusts once more. His cock fills your pussy from behind and suddenly you feel so fucking full, Its far too much for you.

“Fuck… Logan.” You gasp almost on the verge of tears as pounds you into the back seat. It seems the ass play has gotten to him more than expected, as his pace has increases.

“Where?” He asks breathless from the exertion as he pulls his thumbs from your ass and takes a handful of the meat on your hips.

“Inside…. Please … Logan.” You practically beg though you’ll never admit it, his rhythm becomes stunted as his hips slam into the back of your thighs.

“Give me something tight to come in, Darlin’.” Moaning at his words you’re eager to obey as you reach your hand between your own legs and rub mercilessly at your clit. The unforgiving pounding, the grunting and the fingers currently bruising your hips and the burning of your now vacant ass send you sailing over the edge.

You clamp down on him like a vice, groaning unable to hold back your whimpers anymore as he finally bites your neck and pumps his seed deep inside you as far as it can go. Logan grunts like a beast as he pulses deep inside of you.

Logan collapses beside you. Dents in the interior of the van you don’t even remember making have appeared from where a stray elbow or knee has hit the metal in the throes of passion.

The Wolverine tucks his cock back in his suit. Ever the gentleman, he uses your black panties to wipe away the cum dripping from your thighs, you haven’t got the heart to tell him that when you’re commando redressed in your suit that you can still feel him dripping from you, your pussy uncomfortably slick against the leather.

After dressing, the two of you sit in contemplative silence. Neither one of you has the emotional complexity to discuss what happened and neither one of you will accept fault for your argument that led to it, so, silence reigns.

The tension is sliced in two as Logan leans forward and pushes an errant lock of hair behind your ear in an act so goddamn endearing, you melt. You still wouldn’t apologise for lying, because you didn’t lie but you can meet him a quarter of the way.

“I’m sorry for calling you geriatric.” You whisper catching his eyes, a small spark of humour leaps into them, you’ve seen more emotions from your hero in the past half an hour than you knew he was capable of.

“I shouldn’t have-“ Logan’s heartfelt apology is cut off by the lead of this goddamn story.

“Well, well, well.  Would you look at this, My best friends, Ha! I get fucking kidnapped, an arm ripped off and you’re nowhere to be found? I thought don’t worry Wade, they won’t leave you, Y/N/N will come around that corner any second."

Wade has appeared through the passenger side window; he looks a little worse for wear and has a child’s arm growing from his stump, its kind of gross to look at.

"What if Colossus had had his way with me? What then Y/N? I expect this from Wolvie, but not from you! No, no heroic rescue for old Deadpool. I have to save myself because you fuckers are too busy playing hide the adamantium bone!  Thanks for nothing guys. Now the car has old man sex stank to it, as if this hunk of shit Honda could get any worse!”