#Logan wolverine

[combatantwriter]

The way I SCREAMED when Scott said that.

X-Men (2000) dir. Bryan Singer X-Men '97 S01E09 "Tolerance Is Extinction, Pt. 2"

[mushynka]

That month was rough af so im posting cute af pictures of Pookie in glasses (stealed from Pinterest hehe)

[raventhebard]

Logan: Hey you look good today.

Wade: What happened? What's wrong? Just tell me I can take it.

Logan: Nothing, I felt a little bad about being mean, so I'm trying to be nice.

Wade: Okay, sorry I wasn't ready. Try again.

Logan: You look handsome.

Wade: Nope, still freaking me out.

[keark]

Nap time

[nuggetpool-hi]

He my lil meow meow

Sabretooth and Wolverine

[rafaelgomesx]

it can't be put into words how much i'd love to slide my hands over his body and feel his body hair.

[whiskeyandcigarsmoke]

*me, writing fanfiction as i work the front door at the bar*

Customer: oooooh, that's a lot of words.

Me: *calmly closed my Docs app*....😤yup.

Sir, what i write is between me and the readers who don't know my identity. This stuff isn't for face to face interactions.

[blurryhowlett]

It’s something I wish they kept in. As much as I love the X-men movies as my comfort movies, most of the time.. Logan was always getting his ass kicked in these movies and never truly showed who he is as a character. THAT line right there- is so raw. I think a lot of people forget just how  suicidal Logan really is.. but he’s a protector and when he loses the will to live, he soon finds someone new to protect and that keeps him going.

"I can't even show you the scars from all the times I've tried to kill myself, they'd healed. When you touched me without your glove that was the closest to death I'd ever been and I realized I didn't like it."

CUT LOGAN LINE FROM X-MEN THAT HUGH AUDITIONED WITH

[darnell-la]

Hii, so, I have a request for Wade Wilson x fem!reader. Like hardcore non con, or just non con with degradation and all that teasing and mocking Wade would do. (you can take your time of course, there is no rush)

note: we had written a story similar to this request already, and never posted it. we’ll be adding on to it, and post it for this request. thank you for reminding us about our work!

since we had a story like this already, a little gift is at the end…

DO NOT READ IF CNC/SA MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE!

———

Wade had been at this for an hour now, repeatedly snapping his hips into the drunk girl. Resisting y/n was almost impossible. He was surprised he had lasted this long without feeling her insides.

The way she maimed only made him cum faster. He’s never spilled this much into a woman before. Even if he counts them combined.

Y/n was wet, tight, smelled, and tasted good. She shaved whenever she could, and thankfully for Wade, she had done so last night. Slipping into her smooth cunt felt like a dream, and he didn’t plan on stopping any time soon.

“Augh,” came out of your y/n. Low, but Wade couldn’t miss it. She sounds too good for him to stop now. Who cared if she woke up? He was so lost in the sex that he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to.

“You feel it? Feels good, right?” Wade asked as y/n slowly woke up, barely understanding what was happening to her. “You, y/n? Holy shit, you’re tighter than a cock ring — Never knew a human body could feel like this,”

Wade was a man who loved to talk. He was talking to her when she was unconscious, so he couldn’t imagine the things he would want to say to her while she was conscious.

“Goddamn, peanut, like — Can you hear that? Loader then a pot of pasta,” Wade did his best to pound into her deeper, causing her to let out a short scream.

“W-Wade,” y/n breathed heavily as she felt the pain in her lower stomach grow. “Yeah, peanut? All I’m doing is filling you up. Been having this need for months — Basically, since you moved in,”

Y/n had only been living with Wade and his roommate for a few months after being pulled out of the void. She noticed the tension, but he was Wade. She always thought the man was joking.

“Wade, what are you doing?” Y/n whined as she tried to understand the pressure she was feeling all over her body. “Just doing you good. Don’t you think? You came about eight times, and Jesus, you squirt a lot,”

Y/n wasn’t sure, only because she didn’t want to believe it, but after the groans coming from the man’s mouth, she could understand what all the pressure was.

“Wade- What the fuck is wrong with you? Wade!” Y/n cried out as her cunt gripped around his cock, sucking him back in, even when she couldn’t take anymore. Even though she was asleep for most of it, she felt like she’d been at this for hours.

“Oh, don’t get all feisty on me, now. Wanna finish this up before our roomie gets back,” Wade whispered in the younger girl's ear as she tried her best to keep back any moan, but it was impossible.

“N-No, I can’t — It’s too much,” y/n couldn’t help but beg the man to give her some mercy. “Just look at you — Always telling me what to do, but let’s face it- I’m stronger — I can do whatever I’d like with you,” Wade said as he felt himself near again.

“Don’t move too much, peanut — I’m so damn close,” Wade groaned in the young lady's ear as he sped up his pounding. “Gonna fill you one more time, okay, sweetheart?” Wade spoke to y/n, which only made her panic.

“Hey, stop the fighting — It’s not like I haven’t come in you already,” Wade laughed, making y/n understand that the wetness between her legs wasn’t just her. It was the amount of cum he had spilled into her while she was laid out.

“No- Wade, stop it! Stop it!” Y/n cried out as her head got dizzy. She knew she was going to cum, but she was afraid of how huge it would be. She could feel how strong it was going to be.

“Shut the fuck up, and take it again,” Wade bowled as he began filling her up once again, this time feeling a load heavier than the other. “Y-You can’t,” Y/n’s voice came out whiny right before she let loose, cumming all over him again, and throbbing harder than she’s ever done.

“I know it feels good, so you can stop the faking,” Wade whispered before pulling out of y/n’s weak figure. She couldn’t stop herself from twitching and feeling her stomach shift. He had filled her up more than she thought was possible.

“What the fuck did you do?” A stern voice spoke in y/n’s doorway. “Oh, hey there honey bagger — Just got a little steam out of me,” Wade said as he fixed himself up, still tripping from his tip, but he knew if he kept going, he’d never stop.

“Did you fucking kill her, asshole?” Logan felt a bit concerned as he made his way towards her, seeing how weak she was, and most importantly, dripping everything Wade spilled in her.

“God, Wade, what the hell — You didn’t just fill her, you- It’s impossible that’ll all come out — Jesus,” Logan said as he softly turned y/n around so she could rest on her back.

“Well, she’s definitely having my kids,” Wade couldn’t help but take this situation as a joke. He never took anything seriously, and Logan knew that. Part of him hated it, but the other part thanked him. He never knew she could expand and feel like this.

“You good, princess? Anything hurt?” Logan asked, making her shake her head slowly. “Really? I’m surprised,” Logan said, wanting to comfort her, but his cock kept twitching. The sight of her only made him want to fill her next.

“Ah, come on! She’s fine, just look at her — I bet you she’s still throbbing. Look- She definitely is!” Wade said as he pointed to her core, showing how her lips fluttered. Logan couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw how pretty the sight was.

“Are you sure you’re fine, princess? You seem like you’re aching,” Logan spoke as he slowly traced his hand down her stomach, feeling how much she shifted. “I-I need to rest,” y/n said, slightly begging for them to let her take a break.

“I know, princess, just let me make sure you’re fine,” Logan said as he slowly rubbed her bud, instantly getting whines from her. “No more, please,” she begged, but he didn’t listen.

“Ssh,” Logan hushed her as he continued by pushing two fingers through her stretched and filled cunt. “L-Logan!” She tried pushing his hand away, but the man was obviously too strong for her, especially in the state she was in now.

“Look at that — You’re not finished yet,” Logan said as he pumped his fingers in and out of her hole, watching the way she shifted on her bed to squirm away from him, but couldn’t.

“S-Stop — Please,” y/n barely had any more fight in her. “Nah uh, you’re gonna be good to me just like you were for Wade,” Logan made sure y/n knew he she wouldn’t be done for a while.

[thenewestxmen]

Wade: peanut, I made you coffee

Logan, half asleep: thanks darling. *looks down at coffee* aw, you made a heart out of the foam.

Wade: … actually that’s my-

Logan, realizes: *starts chugging the coffee violently*

[throwmethroughawindow]

LOOOOGAAAANNN😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

grinding on a man’s hairy tummy while he’s lying down with an arm lazily bent behind his head. he’s greedily soaking in your every movement and sound, pawing at your tits with his free hand—pointedly not helping you get off because you insisted you could do it yourself…

[gillmandan]

they a little fruity-

[mutilatedcrossaint-blog]

i luv hed cannons tht have wade txting like this n i can barely undr stnd it

[raventhebard]

Wade: I'm not out of control. I'm a law abiding citizen!

Logan: Really? Name one law.

Wade: Don't kill people?

Logan: That's on me, I set the bar too low.

[wadewnstonwilson]

do you want to play a game?

summary: Wade Wilson (Deadpool) finds himself strapped to a sadistic torture chair in a room filled with gruesome contraptions, yet he remains gleefully sarcastic, much to the frustration of Jigsaw's ominous puppet.

word count: 1.6k

trigger warnings: violence, gore, torture, body horror

authors note: this was a headcanon idea someone posted a while back and asked to have a fic written about it, if it was you please let me know so I can properly tag you!

The room was dimly lit, a mixture of cold steel and rusted iron making up its gruesome decor. Wade Wilson, the infamous Deadpool, sat in the center of the room strapped to a chair, surrounded by a series of sadistic contraptions clearly meant to inspire terror. For most people, this would be the worst day of their lives. But Wade? Wade was thrilled.

“Well, hello, Mr. Saw!” Wade chirped with all the enthusiasm of a kid meeting their favorite mascot at Disneyland. His voice echoed through the dimly lit, blood-streaked room, cutting through the oppressive silence like a hot knife through butter. Strapped securely to a steel chair, Wade looked more like a man sitting in for a casual dental cleaning than someone caught in the clutches of a notorious serial killer.

The room smelled of rust and mildew, the air thick with the metallic tang of dried blood. Around him were a variety of deadly contraptions: gears, blades, and wires all meticulously arranged in a manner that suggested their designer had spent a bit too much time watching home renovation shows. Wade wasn’t scared. If anything, he was curious.

He squinted at the giant monitor flickering to life before him. The screen revealed the infamous Jigsaw puppet, its soulless eyes staring back at him with what Wade could only interpret as disapproval. “Okay, seriously,” Wade continued, completely ignoring the ominous vibe, “do you get these machines wholesale, or are they custom jobs? Because I gotta tell ya, the craftsmanship here? Chef’s kiss.”

The puppet’s expression remained unchanged, its head tilting slightly as if processing Wade’s commentary.

“I mean,” Wade went on, craning his neck as much as his restraints would allow, “are those hand-welded joints? No, really, this is top-tier work. I’ve seen Avengers tech, and honestly? Kinda mid compared to this. Do you have a Pinterest board for inspiration? Or do you just wing it?”

The puppet’s voice crackled through the speaker, distorted and menacing. “I want to play a game.”

“Oh! Oh!” Wade exclaimed, practically vibrating in his seat with excitement. “Twister? Monopoly? No wait, let me guess—Candyland! I love Candyland. Can I be the gumdrop guy? No one ever lets me be the gumdrop guy.”

The puppet’s eye twitched. Or, at least, Wade imagined it did. “Your constant need for validation and unrelenting irreverence have landed you here. If you do not escape this trap in time, your body will be—”

“—ripped apart, blood everywhere, yadda yadda, we get it. You really need a new schtick, Jiggy. I mean, what’s next, making me choose between tacos and chimichangas? Ha! Joke’s on you—I don’t choose. Ever.”

A metallic whir sounded as the trap sprung into action. Sharp blades inched closer to Wade’s arms, clearly designed to slice them off unless he solved the contraption before him.

“Neat,” Wade muttered, leaning as far as the straps allowed to get a closer look. “Do these things come in red?”

------

Logan Howlett prowled through the shadow-choked labyrinth of the abandoned city district, his boots crunching softly against the cracked pavement. The air was thick with the stench of mildew, rotting wood, and despair—an oppressive cocktail that clung to his heightened senses like oil on water. Neon lights flickered weakly from the occasional shattered sign, casting brief, eerie glows across graffitied walls and broken windows. This place had been dead for years, left to fester in its decay.

It was the kind of place Wade Wilson would love.

That thought made Logan’s scowl deepen, his jaw tightening as his claws slid out of his knuckles with a soft snikt. The silver blades glinted faintly in the dim light, their familiar weight offering a grim reassurance. Wade hadn’t answered a single one of Logan’s calls in days. Normally, that would’ve been a welcome reprieve—Logan wasn’t exactly the type to miss Wade’s incessant jokes or ceaseless chatter. But this time, something was off. Wade didn’t just not show up. The guy was like a damn cockroach, always turning up where you least expected him, unkillable and annoying as hell. For him to go silent? That meant trouble.

“Where the hell are ya, Wilson?” Logan growled under his breath, his gravelly voice swallowed by the shadows around him.

He came to a halt, sniffing the air. His hyper-sensitive nose twitched as he sifted through the various odors polluting the area—garbage, oil, rat droppings, the faint tang of rusted metal. And then he caught it, faint but distinct: the unmistakable scent of blood. Not just any blood. Wade’s.

Logan’s teeth clenched as he closed his eyes and inhaled again, isolating the scent. It was there, mixed with sweat and... something else. Fear? No. Wade didn’t do fear. It was exhaustion. Pain. The kind of pain that would kill a lesser man ten times over.

His claws slid back into his hands as he moved, quick and silent, through the maze of alleys. The scent grew stronger, more focused, leading him deeper into the heart of the district. He passed crumbling buildings with boarded-up windows, their skeletal remains groaning in protest against the night wind. A flicker of movement caught his eye—a rat scurrying across his path—but he ignored it. His focus was razor-sharp now, his instincts taking over as he tracked the trail.

The scent led him to a narrow alley that terminated in a massive steel door. It was dented and rusted, the kind of industrial barrier that screamed bad news. A faint smear of blood marked the handle, barely visible in the dim light, but Logan’s eyes caught it immediately. He placed a hand on the door, pausing for a moment to listen. His sharp hearing picked up the hum of machinery inside, accompanied by faint, muffled voices. Or maybe just one voice.

“Wilson,” Logan muttered, his voice a low rumble. His claws unsheathed again, a primal response to the growing anger roiling in his gut. He pushed the door, and it gave slightly under his strength, creaking open just enough to let him slip inside.

The interior was worse than he expected. It was a labyrinth of machinery and steel, a factory of nightmares brought to life. Gears turned noisily, chains rattled, and the faint smell of burnt metal stung his nose. The walls were lined with grotesque contraptions, each one a testament to the sadistic mind that had designed them. But Logan barely registered the horror of the place. His focus was on one thing—the idiot who’d managed to get himself into this mess.

Wade’s scent was stronger now, the blood fresher. Logan followed it through the maze of corridors, his movements a combination of raw instinct and calculated precision. Every muscle in his body was coiled, ready to strike. He rounded a corner, his sharp hearing picking up something new—laughter. Muffled, but undeniably familiar. It was Wade’s laugh, laced with exhaustion and a little bit of hysteria.

“Son of a—” Logan bit off the curse as he quickened his pace.

The sound of his boots on the grated floor echoed faintly, but he didn’t care about stealth anymore. He could feel the beast inside him clawing at the edges of his control, the primal part of him that wanted to tear through whatever or whoever had put Wade in this situation. The scent was nearly overwhelming now, and as he rounded another corner, the sight before him stopped him cold.

There was Wade, suspended in the middle of the room by a series of chains and straps. His suit was torn to shreds, revealing patches of raw, bloodied skin that glistened under the harsh, flickering lights. A grotesque contraption of blades and gears hovered dangerously close to his body, clearly designed to inflict as much pain as possible without delivering a killing blow. Not that Wade would die, of course. That was the point, wasn’t it? Keep him alive. Make him suffer.

And yet, despite the carnage, Wade’s maskless face split into a wide, bloody grin the moment he saw Logan.

“Logie-bear!” Wade called out, his voice hoarse but still infuriatingly cheerful. He waved weakly, his hand slick with blood. “You found me! Took you long enough, you big, hairy softie.”

Logan’s growl was low and guttural, his claws snapping out with a metallic snikt as his gaze swept over the room. His chest heaved with barely contained rage, the feral side of him threatening to take over. He took one step closer, his amber eyes locked on Wade.

“You’re a goddamn idiot,” Logan snarled.

“And you’re a goddamn knight in shining adamantium,” Wade shot back, coughing slightly but still managing to sound insufferable. “Now, how about you get me down from here before I lose more blood? Not that I’m complaining—I mean, it’s great for weight loss, but—”

“Shut up, Wilson,” Logan snapped, but his claws were already slicing through the chains holding Wade. He caught the mercenary as he fell, holding him awkwardly but securely.

“Aw, you do care,” Wade muttered, resting his head against Logan’s shoulder.

Logan didn’t respond. He was too busy glaring at the room, silently daring anything—or anyone—to try stopping them. The beast inside him wasn’t done yet, but for now, it could wait. First, he needed to get Wade out of here. Then, he’d deal with the bastard responsible for this.

“Let’s go,” Logan growled, carrying Wade toward the exit.

“Thanks, Daddy,” Wade murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion but still managing to be as annoying as ever.

Logan sighed. “I should’ve left you in the chair.”

[mythomars]

HE HAS RISEN BABYGIRLLLLL

HES HERE HES QUEER AND HE NEEDS A BEER

AFTER 8 LONGGGG MONTHS

HES FUCKING HEREEEEE