#Logan's body count is way higher
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Don't forget that even when he was genuinely a good guy because of the inversion spell, people kept giving him sh17 because he was... Victor Creed. No other reason.
Like Betsy here, but Proudstar was truly a piece of... Cake.
LaValle and the writer of the post Wolverine death wrote it in clear words: people hate Creed just because, not for his evil deeds.
(Everyone always liked me better) (don't worry, I know that this is Victor dreaming, but it doesn't change a thing)
And in the pit. (Sorry about the hearts, I was sending this to a friend months ago).
He is the one that, even when he was barely functioning because of his mental illness, looked for a cure, looked for someone to keep him sane. And he had to commit suicide-by-Logan to get better, because Xavier's were keeping him in solitary confinement, with people taunting him (it reminds me of those good people causing meltdowns in neurodivergent folks because it demonstrates that they're "less" [THEIR opinion, not mine])
So, dear haters, bring a bit of evidence to your "he's unredeemable". He's the guy who was caught because he did his best to save his teammates and then he was kicked in the pit. Every time he does something good, he gets kicked in the face again and again.
He may be crazy, he may have a terrible attitude, he surely has urges that he doesn't care anymore to hide, but.
He's one of the few Marvel characters from ages ago with a clear depiction of racism, torture aftermath, mental illness, (queerness), PTSD, suicidal tendencies, and what the heck could go wrong if we keep kicking a victim in the face.
He's the emblem of the victim taking revenge on the whole world.
You come onto my page and you say this?
Tell me you don't actually read the fucking comics without telling me you don't actually read the fucking comics.
Not only does Sabretooth have a shit ton of depth
Not only has he been a hero for several years *in recent memory* before that character development was erased from history by Krakoa
But if your meter stick for "can't be redeemed" is "has murdered or committed rape" then I have bad news for you about a number of X Men characters who are currently considered good guys.
Including Charles Fucking Xavier.
#sabretooth#victor creed#marvel#marvel comics#wolverine#Logan's body count is way higher#and I couldn't find any evidence for the rapist part#for real#no evidence#his mental health is non existent#he boast his evil deeds to rile people up#rant#poor victor
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can you please do like enemies to lovers that ends in smut with logan???? the face riding one you posted was SO GOOD. 
a/n at the end
tell me more
pairing: logan howlett x reader
summary: you and logan HATE each other. you are stuck in the void for a few days, and when you get out, it’s too late to go anywhere so you stay at wade’s place with logan. in the spare bedroom. with one bed.
word count: 8k
warnings: smut, rough sex, enemies to lovers, unprotected sex, degradation, switch!logan, mentions of blood and death, dance fighting, wade & his sexual comments
a/n: beware this is not proofread i’m too lazy
nsfw below the cut!
you disliked logan from the moment you met him. the two of you met through wade, your best friend and partner.
meanwhile, wade had a new best friend and partner in logan howlett. normally, jealousy would arise in such a circumstance, but it only created mini-competitions between the two of you.
the three of you were in the void. you were sitting in a chair, painting your toe-nails as you watched logan and wade fight to get their anger out.
you giggled as logan stabbed wade repeatedly with his claws, just sitting back and watching the show.
as you added your clear coat, it went almost completely silent and you looked up to see logan laying on wade, both of them with multiple wounds and covered in blood.
“you guys done yet?”
both boys groaned, making you grin as you fanned your newly painted toes and returned the nail polish to your bag.
a few minutes later, both guys were awake and walking towards you. you three needed a somewhere to stay, and you knew exactly where.
"i know where we can stay. this isn't my first time in the void, and there's a house where some hero's hide from cassandra. we can go there." wade listens to your words while logan just scoffs and rolls his eyes.
"and why are we listening to you?" logan's sassy remark made you roll your eyes.
"because i've been in the void before you dumb fuck. don't question me."
"what did you just call me?" logan growled, stepping toward you as you remained unbothered in your lawn chair.
"you heard me." your tone was sharp and sassy.
wade rolled his eyes before stepping in front of logan, stopping from getting any closer to you.
"guys. knock it off. we're gonna follow her, because she's been here before. got it, dog boy?" wade's nickname made you snicker, another nickname added to your dictionary.
“yeah dog boy.” you add on, earning a glare from wade.
“shut the fuck up, woman.” logan spat, his tone was bitter, and his eyes searched you up and down.
“you wish i would.” you spat right back, scoffing as you looking at your nails on your hand, acting completely unbothered by logan’s insults.
wade grabbed you out of the chair, and grabbed logan’s arm, practically dragging you both before shoving you forward.
before the three of you could even take another step, you saw a hidden figure standing on higher ground. he wore a hood over his head, and as he spoke, and revealed himself, it was johnny storm.
“there’s no time. they’re already almost here.” he points to the distance, physically pointing out the fact that cassandra’s army were already on their way to get you.
you swore under your breath as johnny jumped down, joining the three of you, it was now four against like, 100, and you knew you had no other way out of this but to face cassandra head on.
they all approached you fast, and quickly surrounded you. a man, with long hair and brown teeth, began to speak.
“ooo, she’s gonna love what i have for her.”
wade scoffed. “who is she, exactly?”
you smacked his shoulder earning a pathetic wince, causing logan to roll his eyes by the two of you.
the man ignored wade’s question, and before they even had a chance to fight, each of you were sucked by a magnet, and knocked unconscious.
when you woke up, you tried to move your body but it was restrained, looking up and seeing that you were tightly tied against logan. great.
you were in a moving ball, practically like a wired hamster house. your body was tightly maneuvered against his, breasts pressing against his chest, sighing in defeat as logan watched you struggle. “there’s no getting out of this.” his dark, husky voice made you look up, hating the fact that you couldn’t look anywhere but his eyes.
“i know where we’re going. i’ve been here before.”
johnny raised an eyebrow at that as he was tied up next to you, against wade. “you have? no one has ever escaped cassandra alive?”
you sighed. “well i have.”
logan rolled his eyes, hating that the attention was on you. “well aren’t you just the greatest. you escaped a bald bitch, boo fucking who.”
logan’s comment caused your knee to come up in between his legs and hit him in the dick, watching his face contort into pain, making you giggle.
after what felt like the longest ride ever, you arrived to cassandra’s lair, watching as she stepped out and observed the small group.
she untied everyone eventually, examining each person. when she walked up to you, she put her hands behind her back, giving you a smile.
“miss princess. lovely seeing you here again. you’ve escaped me once and it will take a lot for that to happen again.” her words made you swallow, a little frightened but not letting it show, so you held your ground against her.
“you don’t have to worry cass, it’ll happen again. i’m sure of it.” her eyes brighten at the nickname, giggling as she walked over to johnny storm.
it didn’t take long for her to release you as alioth slowly lowers from the sky, hungry for his next meal.
you quickly run over to a weird jet pack thing, watching as both boys follow you, johnny staying behind.
the three of you flew away on the magical item, you shouted quickly, “take us west! that’s where the house is!” she shouts to wade who is somehow controlling the thing from the bottom.
when you arrived at the house, you saw the others, as in the former x-men, which were all very familiar with you.
they greeted you, and you introduced them to the boys.
“this my friend wade! and this… is logan.” you say your excitement wandering off as you say logan’s name, wanting to purposely annoy him.
logan rolled his eyes and introduced himself to everybody sense you didn’t do it for him. the others noticed the frustrating tension between you and logan, most saw it as hatred, but gambit saw right through the both of you.
as everyone started to mingle, gambit approached you and introduced himself, his speed of speaking somehow easy for your brain to comprehend.
“you know, you and that logan guy would be one hot couple.” you almost choked on your spit, turning to him with your eyes wide.
“me… and logan…? like as in dog boy logan? like as in i fight people with claws like a furry, logan?” your comment made gambit chuckle, he nodded his head.
“yes, furry logan. it always startz as enemies, i tink you and him would really get along if you actully chose to.”
you rolled your eyes, “i’m gonna have to disagree with you on that one, mr gambit. i hate that man with a passion.”
he just shrugged his shoulders, looking around the room before looking over at you. “whatever you say, miss y/n. i may just see somefin you don’t.”
about an hour later, the group was all gathered around the table, trying to figure out a plan to capture and kill cassandra.
“okay. cassandra has her big army of dick-riders, so we have to find someway to distract/kill them without the others getting suspicious.” wade says, obviously opening the conversation for ideas.
“maybe we just go head first and attack them all?” electra suggests, which is a good idea, but someone would end up getting killed.
wade looks like he has a light bulb moment, and he turns to you. “remember that one time when we fought off those guys behind the bar in new york, and you did your little dance fighting thing, slowly killing them without the others knowing because you seduced them first,” wade said, sparking memory in your head. everyone else looked confused, while logan looked completely against the idea already.
“yes, how could i forget? that night started my tradition of dance fighting.”
wade smirks, “what if we use that in this? you seduce and fight the guards while we sneak in. i went by earlier and saw the army only comes out when it’s a group, so if it’s just you, seducing the guards, they won’t question a thing.”
wade’s idea makes your face lighten up, loving the idea of being the center of attention. “and how do we know this will work?” logan’s voice is obviously unamused.
“it’s never failed.” you spoke, shooting him a smirk before turning back to wade.
“yeah. let’s do it. i’ll walk up, distract the guard while you guys go through the back and sneak in, just give me a signal when you finally kill that bald bitch, because sway my hips for so long.”
your comment causes the other to laugh, except for logan, as usual. he just huffs, already not liking the idea.
you’re outside the house, everyone getting into the car, no seats for you and logan. “can you guys just sit in the trunk?”
you shoot him a look, knowing it won’t end well.
“out of all two people to out in the trunk, you should be smart enough to know him and i are the worst ones possible.”
logan scowled in agreement, if scowling in agreement was even possible.
wade just shrugged, telling you guys to suck it up and just get in the back, because we were only driving a few minutes.
you rolled your eyes, opening the back and getting in.
logan watched you with narrowed eyes, rolling his eyes before plopping in the trunk. he closed it behind him, and once it was closed, he scooted as far away as possible from you.
you scoffed and roll your eyes, “i don’t bite, ya know.” your words made him chuckle.
“you seem like you would with all those snarky comments you make.” his words make your mouth fall open, slightly offended.
“are you calling me a fucking ankle-biter?”
“yes.”
logan’s quick yes added to your loss for words, unable to form a sentence as you just sat there with your mouth open.
logan chuckled, but realized he was chuckling and stopped himself, quickly looking out the back window, trying to hide the fact he almost got comfortable around you.
when you guys finally arrived, wade got out and hit the button on the trunk.
logan got out abnormally fast, making wade laugh. you got out, grabbing your suit.
when you got you, wade closed the back and got back in the car, driving away and leaving you there.
you ran to the nearest room, changed into your suit, then stared walking toward cassandra's lair.
wade was parking on the side, his car hidden as he watched you slowly walk up to the group, boombox in hand.
wade pressed play on his phone, the song 'murder on the dancefloor' starting to blast on the boombox, drawing attention to you as you slowly walked up to the guards.
you set the boombox down onto the ground, walking up to the first guard, smiling at him as you placed both your hands on his shoulders, swaying your hips.
you slowly swayed down his body, hands roaming all over him. he was clearly into it, and that's what made it even better for you.
you slowly brought him to the side, pretending to kiss him, knocking him unconscious.
you slowly knocked down each guard with your moves and hands, seducing them then knocking them out.
you left them all in a pile, on top of each other, on the side of cassandra's lair.
when you were done, you walked over to the car, knocking on the window, as wade rolls it down.
"haven't seen you in your suit doing your thing for a few years! that was perfect!" wade exclaimed, getting out of the car.
you smiled, noticing how quite logan was from the trunk.
"you have about 30 minutes to get your asses in there before all the guards wake up." is all you say, earning a nod from wade and the rest of the group.
"yes ma'am." wade says, only half joking.
you nod as everyone gets out of the car, you push the button in the back so logan is able to do that.
logan huffs as he finally gets out. "i didn't need your help."
you could tell something was up. something different.
you roll your eyes, “oh, my bad mr. tough guy.” logan let out a scowl, and you watch his body shivered. you were unsure whether it was from anger or something else.
“you just love to push my buttons, don’t you.” his raspy, low voice caused you to turn your head, noticing the fact that he was actually pissed off by you. it made you want to annoy him more. you’d been grating on his nerves for this whole mission, and it barely even started.
“yes. that’s my job, dog boy, keep you on your toes.”
as much as you may despise logan, you have to grant it to him, he knows what he's doing, and he's admirable with it. this time, his voice is tired, not annoyed.
which makes you hold back a giggle. you’re tiring him. that’s something you find cute. “whatever woman, just shut up.”
and you do. you figure you can always annoy him more later, but right now there’s grater matters to deal with.
you hop back into the car, going into the front and making yourself comfortable as the others go to fight. your part was done and now you were more than happy to take the time you could to relax.
later that day, the mission was over with, and it didn't go as planned.
"i did all that ass shaking for nothing?" your words cause the group to have a collective laugh, except for logan, per usual.
"you'll live." his comment sends a shot through your heart, which you show, pretending to faint and holding your heart with your right hand.
"no.. i won't," you say, in stuttered breaths. wade just rolled his eyes at how dramatic you were, but the others seemed to love your jokes.
"will you quit that, you dramatic dingo?" wade's words snd nickname cause you to stop, bursting out into laughter with the rest of the team. except again for the usual exception, logan.
after everyone calms down it's settled that you, wade and logan were going to go through the portal, while the others stayed behind and you got them out later.
you arrived once again at cassandra's lair. yesterday you had captured her and she offered to let you guys to the real world, however, with a price. that woman never gave out things for free. there was some kind of catch and you knew that, but chose to ignore it for the time being, more ready to go back home to your regular universe.
it was just before dark, and as you walked into the lair, cassandra was sat in her chair, she turned to face you as you walked up the ramp. "hello boys, and y/n. welcome back. are you finally set for our trade?"
the three of you nodded, wade stepped forward. "yes we're ready miss death giver. please send us home." his words were so unserious, yet spoken in a serious tone and it almost made it seem serious. even logan almost chuckled.
cassandra opened the portal, watching carefully as the three of you walked through. you made it through, feeling as if you were falling to your death.
as you were falling from the sky, you turned to see logan, next to you, also falling, questionably close to you. he still managed to have his signature grumpiness as he was practically falling to his death, and he rolled his eyes and held a hand out to you, which caused your eyebrow to raise.
was he being... thoughtful toward you? that's a fucking first.
you accepted his hand, the two of you falling together onto a tree, groaning as the pain was still present. you heard some kind of click in the sky and slowly watched wade fall, landing on a poison ivy garden. you chuckled, then turned to logan, seeing his eyes still shut, his breath huffing and puffing. you then looked down, noticing that your hands were still holding each other.
you started to panic and let go, watching his eyes open slowly and his breathing start to slow down. "what, didn't want to hold my hand?" his snarky comment caused you to roll your eyes.
"no. you'll live." you say, using his comment from earlier.
he bares his teeth as a way of holding back another mean comment, watching as you slowly got up, starting to make your way over to wade, leaving his limp body there, by himself.
finally, the three of you make it back to wade's home. it was practically midnight and all the three of you were extremely drained after the day you had.
"you guys can stay here for the night with me, i have a spare bedroom and a couch." wade's words made you perk up, but logan beat you to it before you could say anything.
"you can take the couch. you're small enough to fit on it." you clench your jaw at logan's comment, sighing as wade shakes his head.
“not in my house, logan. as much as i love you mr. mutt, miss twerkalator over here gets the bed. unless you two want to share it."
logan looks at you, eyeing you up and down before shaking his head. "i'll take the couch."
you two walk into the room, and logan's eyes widen at the king sized bed.
he turns to you, his face obviously fighting back a decision. "we can share it. if that's okay with you. i propose a pillow wall."
you shook your head and giggled. "fine logan. only if there's a pillow wall. i want the right side though."
with a roll of his eyes, he sets his stuff down on the left side, you go out to say goodnight to wade, who must've changed into sweatpants and a hoodie cause he's no longer in his suit.
when you walk out, he's is wiggling his eyebrows at you. "you two have fun sharing that bed, okay? if you decide to fuck, let me know so i can come watch."
his words make you physically cringe, watching as his face is purely serious. this man was not joking. you roll your eyes, "there will be no fucking on your spare bed, wade. especially not with him." your cold words make wade shake his head.
"whatever you say, princess. if i hear moaning i'll assume it's the neighbors."
his final comment makes you flip him off as you walk back into the room, he blows you a kiss before you shut the door behind you.
logan is in the bathroom, then he walks out. "there's a shower in here. just letting you know. i'm gonna take one first, you can go after me if you need to." his tone seems calmer, but you assumed it was only because of his tiredness.
you nodded, just accepting the fact he was showering first and sitting yourself on the floor, grabbing your phone.
you didn't want to get the bed dirty, especially with your suit. so you just picked out your clothes, and waited for logan to be finished with his shower.
another quite twenty minutes and the bathroom door swung open.
he walks out, a plain white towel hanging low around his hips, his chest hair carrying small water droplets, a few dropping to the floor as he walked. his body is sculpted and wonderfully chiseled. his chest was defined, along with his abs, his veins evident, and his abs defined. there was a little trail of hair along his v-line, leading to below the towel. his beard had a few drops of water still left in it, assuming it was damp.
you swallowed, trying to ignore the fact that his body was perfect, setting your clothes onto the bed and rushing yourself into the shower.
you tried to push back the possible thoughts of him looking delicious, and decided to just brush them off in your shower. but as you stepped in, it got worse.
the warm water hit your cold skin, almost like a reverse burn, but a good burn. it felt nice on your timid skin, you used this as a way to try and ignore the feeling you just had when you saw logan shirtless.
as much as you hated him, you couldn’t deny it. he was fucking hot. and his body was even hotter.
you physically shook off the thoughts as you noticed a face wash in the shower. wade and his skincare. you grabbed it and used it, aggressively washing your face from all the dirty thoughts you just had and then washing your body, your hair, adding conditioner, then stepping out of the shower.
you dry of your body, deciding to do the same thing he did. you walked out, your breasts pushed up on the towel as you held it, grabbing your clothes off the bed, then walking back into the bathroom to change.
as you shut the door, you caught a glimpse of logan staring at your body and when he quickly looked away, you knew you had got him.
you got yourself changed, throwing your hair into one of wade’s bright pink towels and going to sit on the bed. you were sat awkwardly on one side, while logan was sat awkwardly on the other.
you grabbed your phone, trying to drown out the awkward silence through your instagram feed, but it wasn’t cutting it.
logan wasn’t even trying to deny the awkward silence, he just stood there, letting his thoughts overload his brain.
he huffed, before grabbing the towel by his bed, placing it onto his pillow and setting his head down. “i’m gonna go to sleep. don’t wake me up.”
his harsh words make you want to laugh, remembering the scared look he had on his face when you caught him staring form just minutes ago, but you decided to let him rest and leave him be for the night.
he quickly fell asleep, beginning to snore, which made you laugh, but you quickly got tired yourself and set the phone down, plugging it in and falling asleep yourself.
you slept for a few hours, before you woke up, your mouth incredibly dry and in need of some water.
you slowly got up, trying not to knock over the pillow wall as you did so, you slowly opened and shut the door behind you, trying to refrain from any noise. you walked out to the kitchen, grabbing a glass from wade’s cupboard and filling it up with his fancy filtered water from the fridge. you took a sip, the cold liquid instantly wetting your throat, easing your cotton mouth.
you started to look at the magnets on wade’s fridge, smiling as you saw multiple pictures, even one of you and him. it was a selfie he stopped to take in the middle of a mission. he was a fucking goofball.
you turned and jumped, seeing logan behind you. he was grabbing a glass for himself. “did i scare you?” he just chuckled at you and got some of the tap water, chugging it. he obviously knew the answer to that and was just asking to piss you off even more.
you rolled your eyes, ignoring his question and getting more to the water from the filter. he rolled his eyes. “filtered water? seriously? now i see why you and wade get along so well. you both are incredibly boujee.” his use of the word boujee practically makes you spit out your water into the sink.
“i never expected that word to be in your dictionary.” you said, honestly, watching as he chuckled, filling up his water and sipping it this time.
“there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.” his voice was low and raspy, lower than usual. it was his sleepy voice, you were trying not to let it get it you. didn’t matter what he said. it was the voice that was the problem.
“yeah? like that you snore in your sleep? just found that out a few hours ago.”
logan scoffed, clenching then unclenching his jaw, holding back a roll of his eyes. “yes, i snore. i didn’t even know until my ex-wife told me.”
the mention of his ex-wife made the room go silent, with the exception of the faucet dropping a few times.
his comment just reminded you of how much older he was than you. you decided to not let it be awkward by keeping the conversation going.
“ex-wife huh? how many of those have you had?” your snark comment making his eyes actually roll this time.
he could hear the teasing nature in your voice and didn’t take it the wrong way, but was still acting annoyed, because he always tried to be with you.
“i’m not answering that question.” his response made you giggle. you just smiled to him, deciding to tease him a bit.
“you gonna make me guess?”
with a roll of his eyes he set his glass into the sink, and you didn’t realize his body was slowly getting closer to yours.
“don’t guess. cause i won’t tell you.”
you hid back a smile, looking up at him. “you know, i caught you staring earlier.” your blunt comment made all his attention go on you, eyes searching you up and down for any sign of discomfort at the thought of him staring at your body.
“i was not staring.” his voice was still low and husky, making your stomach get butterflies. you watched to stop them but you couldn’t help it. logan was towering over you and all you could do was look up at him.
he body moved closer to you as you said your next comment. “you definitely were. i saw it with my own two eyes.”
your comment must’ve struck a nerve in him, because his body was now fully pressed up against you, one hand on your hip while the other rested on the fridge above your head. you were unsure of what to do, he practically had you pinned to the fridge.
“i said, i wasn’t staring, doll. what part of that don’t you get?” he spoke slower this time, eyes daggering into yours, making your heart flutter.
“okay. you weren’t staring.” your words make him smile a bit.
“that’s right.” his voice was taunting almost, and it made you shiver. he stared down at you, and as he separated himself from you, you noticed, a bulge in his pants. you giggled to yourself as he walked back into the room. leaving you there, with your many ideas in your head of how the rest of the night could go.
you take a deep breath, composing yourself before walking back into the room. you laid down on your side of the pillow wall, staring at the ceiling. little did you know he was doing the same.
you took a deep breath before you said your next sentence. “you know, it’s okay to get a boner. it’s normal.”
your comforting yet embarrassing words caused his cheeks to flush. your words made him realize you noticed his bulge, and he huffed before throwing each of the four pillows in the pillow wall onto the floor.
“what did you just say?”
you tried to hide back your amused giggle. “you heard me and you know it.”
your eyes glared into his, watching his face as his jaw clenched. he knew he’d been caught.
“i said, it’s okay to have a boner. i know you’re hard because of our interaction. and because of seeing me in nothing but a towel. you don’t have to hide your attraction for me, logan. i’m not stupid. i know it’s there.”
your words cause a battle within him internally. there’s no denying that your words sent a shiver down his body. frankly, he wouldn't be surprised if a wet patch appeared in his pants.
he tries to think of something snarky to respond with, wanting to ignore the aroused feeling he had, not wanting you to have the slightest hint about how he was feeling.
you decided to speak again before he could, "in fact, i'm sure it's getting worse the more i speak-" you don't have time to finish your surly sentence before he's right there, his hot breath fanning your face from above, his forearms on either side of your head, trapping you in.
"you know what? yeah. you're the reason why i'm hard. doing your fucking dance fighting. i had to hide how hard i was. watching you kill those guys so effortlessly, and looking sexy while you did it. and, god you walking around here in nothing but a towel, last night where you worse the littlest shorts that barely even cover your ass. that's what made me hard. god, and i've been trying to hide it for so long but it just seems like i'm affecting you too."
he growls, his face falling to your neck, the intersection of your shoulder, his lips just brushing the flesh before inhaling deeply; almost animalistic.
you smile, looking up at him, getting another idea. you bat your eyelashes and take his hand, knocking him to his side as he's forced to lay next to you. “lo, you do affect me, so bad," you take his hand and lead it down to your core, pressing his hand to your clothed pussy. "right here. you feel that? feel how wet i am? it's all cause of you."
you watch as his mouth falls open and his pants tighten, seeing his dick twitch in his sweatpants. he's at a loss for words. he was expecting you to submit to him, but the way you didn't sent shivers down his spine.
"yeah? i did that?" his mouth now forms to a smirk, looking over at you, down to your lips and up to your eyes.
"yes you did. and i've been aching, waiting for you to come help me out." you watch as his head falls back, a puff of air falling from his mouth.
"fuck, stop talking." his command only eggs you on. you being the little menace you are, continue with your teasing.
"need you so bad logan. so bad right here. she's been aching. calling for you. god, she's so tight and needs something to stretch her out, think you can do that? i bet you’re so big, could stretch her out real good.”
you watch as his body shakes, and you notice a wet patch on his sweatpants, realizing the fact that he just came, just from the words you were saying and the slight touch of your clothed pussy.
"you must've been waiting for this huh? already came in your pants. naughty boy."
logan doesn't let you get another word, because his lips press to yours. after so much waiting, the tension was finally being released through a kiss.
the two of you continue your messy kiss, and it doesn't take long for his hands to stray, his palms skimming down your hot flesh, and leaving goose bumps in his wake.
“fucking hell, woman,” he whines, getting on top of you again, kissing your lips. "you're gonna look so much better when I mark you up, every inch of you. you already look like you’re mine."
his words made you moan, tugging at your shirt, signaling for you to take it off, which you do, you throw it over your head and across the room. leaving you in nothing but your soaked panties.
“god, so fucking pretty. you know how hard it was for me not to do this to you earlier on? you know how long i’ve been fucking waiting?” his harsh words make your body tremble. he slowly kissed your breasts.
his tongue swirled across your left nipple, sucking on it, eyes up on you, watching your face, watching it contort into pleasure because of him.
he kisses and gives love to the other breast, sucking on it as his hands slowly roam your body, overstimulating you with his touch.
he slowly descends while pulling at the waist of your panties. it appears like that's when he realizes it, pulling away from you, breathing heavily, his beard tingling your hip bones.
his desperate eyes look up at you, searching your face for any regret to which he found none.
he takes off your panties, shoving them in his pocket. "i'm gonna keep these."
his words make you moan again. you look down and he has a devilish grin on his face, both his arms wrapping around your legs, nibbling on your thighs before starting to devour as if he's starving and you're his last meal.
his tongue immediately fucks into your hole, eyes never leaving your face as he works his magic. his nose rubs against your clit, moaning the more he gets into it.
he was being so messy, and it was making you wetter, which then continued to make the situation even messier.
his facial hair caresses your swelling pearl as he eats you whole, without any hesitation—to him, you are a complete feast.
the most exquisite sight you have ever seen is his tongue in your pussy as he gives you sloppy kisses.
you can only watch, gripping his hair and running your fingers through his dark locks, yanking for some semblance of stability, something to keep you bound to this world because the pleasure you feel is unfathomable.
"fuck, logan that feels amazing?" your words only edge him on, watching as his silly smirk turns to a devilish grin.
"does it baby? tell me more." his voice is still low and husky, and he grips your thighs tighter, noticing your body shaking.
but you're so close, perched precariously on the brink of something amazing, something profound, something cosmic. you are crying as he gets closer and closer to you, enjoying every taste of his tongue in your cave and every nuzzle of his nose to your extremely sensitive spot.
"i'm so close." is all you are able to say, feeling a bit embarrassed at the fact the man you once despised was now between your legs, making you yell for him.
"yeah? come on doll, i'll take you there." his words mixed with his stimulations on your clit and fucking of your hole finally bring you to the edge.
your body trembles and shakes as he makes you cum for the first time of the night, you drench his face in your juices, loving how intimate he was with his way pleasuring you.
"good fucking girl." his words combined with his look turns you back on instantly, sending shivers down to your core as you finally come down from your high.
he comes up, you place both hands on either sides of his face, his soaked beard tickling your fingers. "you're gonna ruin me, aren't you?"
his smile only grows, as he begins to lower his sweatpants, "i'm gonna make it so no other man is able to top what i do to you tonight."
his words make you moan, he presses a kiss to your forehead before letting his dick free, you watched as the precum dripped onto your stomach, trying to ignore how hot it was. god, even his dick was hairy. but today was the day you finally decided to admit that you loved every fucking hair on his body.
he slowly aligned with your aching pussy, which is practically waiting just to suck him in. he slowly pushes in, earning a moan to fall from his soaked lips.
you hiss, but as he stretches you, the minor pain only makes you want to absorb him completely more. your ass reaches his thighs, causing you to realize that he's now balls deep in you.
he mutters, "fucking hell," letting out the most agonizing sigh yet.
his movements begin slowly as you becomes accustomed to his immense girth filling you up to the brim.
even the smallest movement causes your walls to become tense around the ridges of his dick, grinding against you so strongly. with each rock, his breathing gets deeper, his eager pants and short pleas filling the air as he picks up tempo.
he moves faster, eyes gazing into yours, he pulls his hand up and places it on your stomach, pressing down knowing it would increase the pleasure for you.
“tell me baby, talk to me. how does it feel?” he already knew the answer to that, but he absolutely loved the thought of you beneath him, trembling under of his manipulation.
“so fucking good.” your harsh words make his dick twitch.
“yeah? tell me more, hon.” your head falls back, hair sprawling onto the pillows as your body shook, feeling overstimulated by his words and thrusts, that were picking up speed, and the fact that you had already came once, and fast. you knew you wouldn’t last much longer.
he looks down at you, letting his hand trail from your stomach to your mouth. “open.”
you watch carefully, eyes never leaving his as his fingers slowly slide into your mouth, moaning as he remains eye contact and watches you suck on them. seeing that makes him imagine how good your tight little mouth would feel around his dick.
“god, you’re gorgeous.” he says, finally admitting it.
all you can do it smile, realizing this is the first time he’s ever genuinely complimented you, and you decided to take it in, and tease him with it. per usual.
“think that’s the first time you’ve ever complimented me. you finally letting yourself see how fucking hot i am?”
your words apparently get to him because he winces. not a sad wince, a pathetic ‘i need to cum’ type wince.
“stop that.” his voice is harsh, a bit whiny, as he continues to thrust into you, both hand now on your hips as he hovers above you, his tip hitting your cervix, stretching you out just for him.
"stop what, logan? you don't like hearing about how we could've fucked so much earlier, if you just quit the fucking act and admitted how horny i made you?" your dirty talk was working on him and you were loving it.
the man was whimpering, his hips starting to stutter, as he pounded into you, wanting to make you cum before he did.
"if you keep talking like that i'm gonna cum, y/n." you smiled up at him, knowing you were close as well.
your tired eyes batted up at him, a small smile forming on your face.
"then cum. do it. fucking cum, i'll cum with you, yeah? filling me up so good, you feel her clenching? that's all from you baby, you got me this hot and bothered, now make me fucking cum." your words flipped a switch in him.
he started pounding into you, balls slapping repeatedly against your ass as he moved, keeping his same pace but now fucking you harder.
he moaned into your ear, "yeah? i'll make you fucking cum. gonna make you cum so hard the only thing you'll remember is my fucking name," his harsh words and the fact he could go from submissive to dominant so fast made you go over the edge for the final time that night.
you finally came, the continuous pressure in your bundle of nerves, the hot white wave of pleasure sends you hurtling through the sky and to heaven in an instant, leaving you in a state of unrestrained bliss that you cannot predict.
your body is electrified from head to toe. somewhere in the mix of your earth-shattering orgasm logan came as well, the sight of you in such state making him reach his peak, filling your walls with his hot sticky cum.
you both sat there for a second, catching your breath, and suddenly you looked down to see logan’s hot cum gushing out of you and onto the bedsheets, the sight becoming to hot to handle, as you both moaned in unison.
he got up and went to the bathroom, getting a rag from the cupboard and drowning it in hot sink water, ringing it out before walking over to you and cleaning you up.
his tongue licked up some of the mixed cum, and you watched with big eyes, feeling even more aroused at the sight.
he used the rag to get the rest and wipe off his beard from your juices.
he threw the rag into the hamper, climbing into bed next to you again, this time a lot closer and with no pillow wall.
instead, you rested in his arms, smiling up at him, as the two of you finally fell asleep.
the next morning, you and logan lay for a bit before you throw on one of his shirts and some of your shorts and walk out to the kitchen, seeing wade sitting at this dining table with his fake glasses on, drinking a cup of coffee in his ‘love yourself’ mug.
he eyes the both of you as you walk out, taking note of the outfit changes.
he smiled. “morning sunshine’s. how’d the night go? did you guys hear my neighbors downstairs at all? sounded like they were getting it on, the guy was moaning and groaning, must’ve been havin’ a grand ole’ time,” wade says, doing the thrust motion with his arms up causing logan’s face to turn a bit pink, making you laugh loudly.
he came up to you, hands around your waist and lips near your ear.
“try to walk in a straight line, sweetheart, then we’ll see who’s laughing.”
a/n: SURPRISEEEE hiii guys! this is what i have been working on all day! i wanted to spoil you with more then just a drabble while i had motivation. MWAH I HOPE U ENJOYED!
#logan howlett smut#velvrei#logan howlett#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x reader#trending#smut imagine#smut#writing#velvrei smut#deadpool and wolverine smut#wolverine x reader#deadpool and wolverine#wolverine smut#wolverine
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a request, if i may, of praising old man logan as he filfthly eats you out and it makes him combust the more you praise him? okay running away again
speak of her over my grave and watch how she brings me back to life
a/n: look at him taking off his glasses in absolute shock of this ask- no okay does old man logan have a praise kink? i would raise it higher and say every version of logan has a massive praise kink. this is a man who wants to know he's doing good in life. his love language is acts of service so he might get to hear a pretty thank you. also i'm not sorry for how feral this got. i have no explanation.
summary: he knew he loved you when your words begin to piece his heart back together. he knew he loved you when he flourishes at your praise. he knew he loved you when nothing in this world could matter but the sound of your voice telling him you love him too.
word count: 3k+
pairing: old man!logan x f!reader
warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, oral (f receiving), praise kink, logan is obsessed, dirty talk via reader, he is so pretty when he blushes, manhandling, cumplay, cumeating, overstimulation, crying, he's needy in this one, angst, tortured soul of an old man, reverence, religious trauma + greek mythology hints.
He can feel the strings of fate pull tight around his broken heart. In a failed attempt to draw him back together. To piece together an organ that barely beat for him anymore. He might have felt it once, before it broke. Before it gnarled itself like the branches of a dying tree, one half twisting away from the other in a desperate attempt of survival.
He deemed it a useless part of his body until you came along. You with your smile that held enough cloying sweetness to choke him as he stood helpless. Silently begging for you to say his name. To bring him back to life.
Whatever horrors that plagued his mind—endless nightmares that promised nothing but anguish—suddenly came crashing to a halt at the sight of you. So pretty in your denim jeans and velvet top. An angel seated in the center of a bar that held more filth than you deserved to be near. Logan couldn’t fathom that luck struck him this hard.
Not when death had already claimed his soul; notched yet another tally in the endless wall of people that came before.
He felt the dirt pack under his nails as he clawed his way out of the grave he put himself in. Years spent alone—a man lost to the ravages of time—had turned him bitter. With rough edges and biting words that stung far more than he intended. How could he believe he deserved to live after he contributed so much to the endless pool of blood that tainted his soul? How was he allowed such softness after biting off bits of brutality his whole life?
Logan was pretty sure he survived on borrowed time that had already run out. He could feel death breathe down his neck as the days went on. A reminder that what little of his life remained would be spent suffering. And he found that accepting it was easier than battling against the will of God, or whoever toyed with his lifeline.
It was far easier to die than find a reason to live.
Until you said his name.
Softly. Sweetly. Reverence wrapped in a tight grasp of need.
You brought him back from the edge—took his hand and refused to take no for an answer. You and the safety of your touch; the promise in your kiss. You dragged him into a life he didn’t earn; one that almost tasted too sweet—too sour.
After near a decade of being buried beneath the dirt, he felt himself collapse above ground and suck in his first real gasp of fresh air. Alive, once more. Hell spit him out with a vow of love and who was he to argue against it.
His fingers dug into your plush thighs, tugging them open to see what lay between. He marveled at their softness, eyes wide and awestruck at the sight of you spread beneath him. You practically glowed in the dim light of the bedside table. Yellow, musty, yet angelic when it caressed your body with its heavenly touch.
He wondered if this was real life; your nails digging sharply into his shoulders gave him the answer.
"Logan," you sighed, voice high with need.
The strings pulled taught. A vice like hold that drew him to you.
Maybe that's what this unutterable feeling was. The gnawing pit at the bottom of his heart. A greed he'd never indulged before—too afraid of what it might ask for next. He wasn't a man who asked for much. Rather someone that found himself far too content with nothing. But tonight he found his lips forming the words of a false prayer that his mother taught him as a child.
Hail the angel in his bed. Hail every good fucking thing you brought into his life.
His teeth sunk into your thigh, body jolting at your responding moan. Fingers dug into his hair, tugging at the mussed locks with a high pitched whine. You were a needy little thing, but Logan found he desperately wanted to be needed.
He smiled laving his tongue over the tender spot, working his way up to where you dripped for him.
So slick. So perfect.
Saliva filled his mouth. "What do ya want baby?"
Your chest heaved; he could feel the heat of your body under his palms. "Your m-mouth Logan."
His eyes trailed along your brow covered in a sheen of sweat. The room was thick with the humid air of the outside world. But that didn't deter him from craving your skin near his. The pressure of your thighs around his head a welcome weight. If he sunk his teeth in where the curve of your leg met your hip he knew he could draw out that soft choking noise he longed to hear on days spent driving alone.
If he had his way he'd crawl into you to seek your serenity straight from the source. He'd never divulge about the ache that chewed him up on the inside, but Logan wondered if you knew. Could you tell how much he craved you? How much he couldn't live without you.
When your glittering eyes met his, the resolve he spent years building cracked like glass. You peered into him as if he was a stained glass window. A god you were more than happy to worship.
"You want me to lick this pretty pussy?" Fuck, he sounded drunk off your taste already.
His mouth hovered over your throbbing clit, your scent now filling his senses. Overwhelming him with what he wanted most. But he needed to hear it. The lilt of your begging; the soft echo of your need that washed over him like soothing river water.
He couldn't live without it.
"Yes," you sobbed, thigh twitching.
The string sliced his heart open, blood pooling onto the white bed sheets. Oh what a sweet death your love made. Oh...what a bittersweet way to go.
He'd die right now if you asked him to. Hand over his heart on a silver platter if you so wished it. Maybe that made him far too gone for his own good, but Logan couldn't remember a time in his life where he got this. Safety. The hope of love burning far too bright and far too hot for him to fly near it.
Yet there he was. Icarus happily soaring in your sun like glow.
"I got ya honey," he murmured. "Gonna take care of what's mine."
You nodded frantically—tears welling up in your eyes. "You take care of me Logan."
The breath in his chest stuttered, eyes dark as the words fell past your swollen lips. He wanted to explain why his cock twitched against his stomach. Why he now leaked into the sheet with heavy panted breaths. But every time he came up short with the words needed to form an answer.
"Yeah I do sweetheart," he breathed. "Don't I?"
"Uh-huh."
"Take care of what belongs to me."
There was no warning when his hands dragged you closer with a rough tug, mouth closing over your clit with a desperate suck. A cry wrenched from your mouth, sparks sharply traveling down your spine. He licked through your slick with a growl. Hands an unbreakable press against your thighs.
The sight of your body bowed, mouth open for small gasped breaths that never came, snapped something in his mind. He was an old man. Well past his years. But the taste of your pussy along his tongue brought back a ferocity he often tamped down in his younger age. He felt the feral want claw at his chest, and answered it with a broken snarl.
Swallowing down every drop you gave him, he plunged his tongue into your entrance, thrusting messily until a smear of your shiny slick began to coat his mouth. It covered his cheeks and clung to the hair of his beard. He'd clean it out later, taste you on his tongue until he was aching for another go. But for now he was preoccupied with the way you cried for him.
"Oh fuck!" Your thighs trembled over his shoulders, hips canting down to drag yourself along his tongue. "So good."
He shuddered, eyes rolling back at the sound of your praise. You caught it within seconds, lips pulling into a breathless smile that left him gasping for air. His teeth nipped at your thigh briefly as his hips ground into the mattress below.
"You like that baby?" you breathed, thumb smearing your own slick against his cheek.
Something hot washed over his body. A needy sick and twisted ache that he'd never indulged in before. He wanted to be a good man to you; longed to be needed. And fuck if you didn't give him everything.
You were his walking wet dream. His future handed off and wrapped in a neat little bow.
"L-Love your tongue Logan-" A high gasp tore from your throat when he dived back in. Slurping at your clit with a heady moan as you dragged him closer. "Taking care of me so well."
His hips canted down into the bed, fucking his cock along the warmth of his stomach, as you gushed into his mouth again. Eyes zeroed in on your face, pupils dilated as he growled into your flesh. You no longer could see the man you loved, but the feral side he tamped down during the day. The animal he longed to release in your presence.
"Fuck I'm gonna cum."
His arms looped around your thighs and with a sharp yank, he had his face buried deep enough to suffocate himself. You sobbed an incoherent version of his name. Nails clawed at his shoulders, but Logan could feel the pulse of your clit under his tongue.
He sucked it into his mouth with a grunt, rolling it along his tongue as you trembled with the oncoming shocks of an orgasm that threatened to destroy you.
Tears dripped down your cheeks and Logan felt the satisfying part of his heart begin to stitch itself back together. The strings were tight enough to numb his pain. To quell the flare of agony.
That used to be all he knew, all he counted on most days. When there was nothing left and he'd propped the shovel in the dirt—his grave open and waiting—he stumbled right into your arms. He found his reason for living.
Heat curled around his spine as you shook with the impending orgasm—the stimulation on your clit practically debilitating. He grunted into your soaked flesh, eyes narrowed as he chased the release that pulled his stomach taut. But this wasn't for him to indulge in; this wasn't his pleasure.
So with a throaty moan you felt reverberate along your body, he scraped his teeth along your clit and watched as your body went stiff.
"Logan!" you cried, fingers scrambling for purchase on any part of him you could reach.
You gushed into his awaiting mouth, praises of it's so good, you're so good falling upon his ears like the whimpered prayers of a devout worshiper thanking your god.
"Taste so fuckin' good," he mumbled, drunk on what you gave him.
He didn't care that you were jolting with each pass of his tongue along your pussy. He didn't care that you were shocked with overstimulation, small broken cries of his name muffled by the press of your thighs against his ears. He licked at you until he couldn't breathe. Buried his tongue into your twitching entrance and sucked out your cum with a happy hum.
"P-Please." You tugged at his hair, pulling him off you with a sob. "I-I can't anymore Logan."
"'M not fuckin' finished," he said, eyes glazed and face coated in your slick.
You made a mess of his face. The light catching along where you spilled into his mouth and along his throat. And still he wanted more. He'd spend hours between your thighs, burning your skin with his beard, if it meant he could divulge in your sweetness.
"It hurts-"
A grunt rumbled in his chest, his arms tugging you back even as your feet kicked along his back. "Just one more honey. Yeah?"
You shook your head. "B-But-"
"Thought you said it was good."
"It is."
"Then lemme be good for you." He wanted to tell you that the world went quiet between your thighs. That all his grief, all his pain, lessened when you sobbed his name.
He wanted to show you the string that looped his heart to yours—the only thing keeping him alive—and thank you for bringing him back from the dead. But words weren't his forte. Violence had become the only tenderness he knew and you didn't deserve the rough edges of an old man. You should have more.
But when you let him touch you like this—caress your skin and lick between your folds—he felt as if he was a man who finally was worthy of someone as precious as you. He could pretend he didn't bear the brunt of a fucked up soul.
The weight on his chest lifted when your tear filled gaze met his and you nodded. Small, barely there, but it was enough for him to seal his mouth back over you with a ragged moan. Your body shook as his tongue slid through the seam of your pussy. The tip nudging against your clit—careful to draw the pleasure from your body slowly.
He didn't want to give you pain. His heart wouldn't survive that. But he was a broken man; someone who begged for more even as his teeth sunk into what was already given.
You were his meal. His sacrament in the midnight hours until dawn broke across the darkened sky. You were the other half of his soul.
How could he not indulge in your sweetened tang until his tongue went stiff?
"I love you," you sighed, eyes rolled back when he sucked at your pussy, a wet low moan echoing in the air. "My p-perfect husband."
The cold press of his wedding band against your thigh drove him over the edge. You weren't officially married. Didn't have the backyard wedding with a preacher to match. But Logan had placed a ring on your finger near a year ago, sliding one over his own with the vow of forever cemented in his words.
Even if that didn't mean much in the eyes of a god who abandoned him near a century ago.
"Oh-"
Your head tipped back, mouth dropping open as his fingers dipped into your wet heat. Thrusting lazily until he found the spongey patch along your walls—driving the pad of his middle finger into it with a needy moan.
He knew it wouldn't take long for you to fly off the edge of a second release. That didn't make watching you climb to that peak any less satisfying. The sight appeased his soul. It gave him a chance to breathe; let him know that after so much bad—after so much pain—he could do something good. He could bring you to the edge of pleasure and drag you over again and again.
He could finally be the man you believed he was.
Not the animal they created.
"C'mon," he muttered. Eyes fixed on the shape of your breasts as your body curved off the bed. Hips dragging along his face with a stunted cry.
A wail bounced off the walls, piercing his eardrums with the symphony of your cries. His fingers rapidly pumped into you with a squelch that had heat burning his cheeks—lips pulling your throbbing clit into his mouth as you broke. The climax slammed into you; battering your already swollen pussy.
Logan could feel his cock swell at the sight.
"Fuckin' perfect," he grunted, teeth bared as he clambered to his knees and wrapped his fist soaked in your slick around his leaking cock. "'M gonna cum sweetheart."
Your eyes fluttered open, fingers digging into his thigh. "Please. Wanna see it baby. Look so pretty when you cum Logan."
His chest tightened, body shaking while you watched in rapture as he fucked his fist rapidly. He wouldn't fucking last, could feel the burning consume his body, but something held him back. The string around his heart yanked him away from the edge, tearing a cry from his throat when his frustration peaked.
You could see it—the glimmer of need in his dark eyes. This wasn't the first time he longed for your words. It certainly wouldn't be the last.
So you spread your legs and sat up slowly—arms wrapping around his shoulders to bring his lips down to yours. A soft moan was muffled by your mouth; the peak of his release within reach. He could practically feel the tips of his fingers graze it.
"Cover my pussy baby," you mumbled into his mouth. "Be good for me and mark what's yours."
The growl came from the very bottom of his chest when he finally came. Your name was a bitten out snarl pressed to your mouth in an open mouth kiss as he spurted over his knuckles. He pumped his cock to milk every drop; eyes fixed on the way it covered the swollen lips of your pussy. Dripping down to your entrance that fluttered at the sight of his sweaty and crimson tinged face.
"I fuckin' love ya honey," he murmured, hand cupping your chin to drag your lips back to his. "Best thing that's happened in my life is you."
You smiled, thumbs pressing to his cheeks. "Love you too Logan."
Clutching you close, he felt the string go loose. The breath finally rushing back into his lungs at the sight of your eyes glowing with the kind of light that brought him back to the first day The night he met you in that shitty bar—alcohol the only thing on his mind until he saw you.
The night you spoke his name over his covered grave and dragged him back to life with a smile.
#logan howlett x f!reader#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x y/n#logan howlett smut#old man logan#my writing
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dog tags [l.h]
Pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader Word Count: 800 words Warnings: Smut (18+). Unprotected Sex. Little dialogue. A/N: Here's a little drabble I've been thinking about since I saw Deadpool & Wolverine. It's my first attempt at writing in like a whole year. Please go easy on me. Dedicated to @eupheme for inspiring me to write again.
You love these moments, so few and far between. When the world melts away, and it’s just you and Logan. Sharing space. Sharing love.
That gentle, sinful dance. The slick slide of skin. Dewey breaths and twin moans. The quiet squeak of the bed frame, keeping time with Logan’s deep thrusts.
He’s wrapped himself completely around you, pressing his entire weight onto your body. It’s like he’s trying to burrow his way into you. Leave the imprint of himself upon your very soul. You’re trapped between the soft mattress and his solid body, completely vulnerable to him. As he is to you. Baring his soul before you. Letting you take what you want as he willingly offers you everything he has.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” Logan groans into your ear. His teeth brush the shell, sending shivers down your spine.
You thread your fingers in the damp hair at the nape of his neck. Tugging those strands when he thrusts deeper, finding that mind-numbing spot. “Feel so good, baby.”
He shudders at the praise. Shoulders tightening in determination. To make you feel good. To unravel you.
Logan’s nose bumps yours clumsily as he presses a sloppy kiss to your lips. Filthy and sweet. His tongue slides into your open mouth, greedily tasting the saccharine moans that leave your throat. He fills you with his own pleasured noises. Deep and tangy. Bourbon and honey. Aged to perfection for a special occasion as this.
Your hands slide the length of his broad shoulders, tangling in the metal chain that dangles from his neck. You pull him impossibly closer, fusing your bodies. He surges over you like a wave, pulling you deeper and deeper into the riptide of your pleasure.
Logan hitches your leg around his hips and swallows your cry of his name. When your head tips back, overwhelmed by the heady sensation building within you, he watches. Watches the slack of your jaw, your kiss-swollen lips forming the letters of silent pleas. Watches the furrow of your brow, that flash of desperation in your eyes.
Logan brushes his thumb over the swell of your lips. Your teeth catch the pad of it, tongue swirling out to soothe the sting.
He groans, half-lidded eyes drooping more. The languid rock of his hips jerking for a moment. That knot in his stomach threatening to come loose. But he knows you're close to that edge. Can hear it in those sweet high-pitched moans, feel it in the needy undulations of your hips as you seek release. He won’t come yet, not without you.
Logan draws his thumb from your mouth and fits it into the space where your bodies meet. You gasp at the slick pressure against your clit. The expert circles he presses pushing you further, driving you higher. His free hand grabs yours, pressing your palm into the pillow.
The sweet gesture, the connection adds to the intensity of the feelings swirling around you. For the longest time sex with Logan was primal, desire-based. The only goal was getting to the end, that blissful orgasm. Not that you minded, you had needs to. But lately…well things had changed. Tender touches replaced bruising force. Fiery, biting kisses turned languid. Still intense, just different.
“Gonna make me cum, Logan,” you whisper, eyes still locked on his. “‘M close.”
“I know,” he says.
The thumb on your clit picks up speed and the heat in your belly grows. Logan crowds your space, bending you nearly in half. The movement has his dog tags dangling in your face, bumping against your chin with every forward thrust.
A wicked thought fills your head. The desire fogging your brain. On his next forward push, you suck the tags into your mouth. The effect is two-fold. The cool metal on your tongue tastes of sweat. It keeps your mouth busy and forces Logan to remain close.
You can feel his breath on your face, hear that warped groan, for a split second before he’s kissing you. Cool metal mixing with the uninhibited warmth of desire.
It pushes you over the edge. You come with a choke groan, and Logan’s not far behind you. He kisses your chin, forehead falling against yours as he empties himself inside you.
The afterglow has always been your favorite. Your body limp and floating through the syrupy sensation of pleasure. Senses dialed up to ten as you slowly come down. Logan lies limp on top of you, fighting to regain control of his breathing. He’ll never admit this, but he’s a cuddler. Seeking that warmth, the connection that’s eluded him for so long. Softness he’s never allowed himself to have. Softness he doesn’t think he deserves.
You were the first to offer it to him in such a long time, and he’s long since stopped running from it. Maybe that’s why he keeps coming back. Giving you little pieces of himself each time.
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett smut#logan howlett#wolverine x reader#the woverine#james logan howlett#rion writes
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logan howlett x reader
word count: 1.6K
warnings: smut! nasty filthy smut! afab reader who gets called a girl one (1) time because i didn’t know what nickname to use, MINORS DNI YOU WILL BE BLOCKED! i literally dreamt of this specific scenario last night and it was so vivid i decided to write it LMAO as always feedback is welcomed and appreciated <3
Being sent on a mission up north with Logan and as you’re scouting the area around a frozen lake after setting up in an abandoned cabin, the ice shatters underneath you, your body getting quickly engulfed by the icy water.
Logan doesn’t have to think twice before diving after you, retrieving your trembling body from the depths of the lake and bringing you back to the cabin. You’re shivering the whole time, clinging onto him; despite the fact that he also went in the water, his body naturally runs at a higher temperature, which makes him far less cold than you are— and he gently puts you down on a pile of blankets in front of the fireplace before lighting up a fire, turning to you with concern in his eyes.
“Gonna have to get these off of you, bub.” he mumbles hesitantly, gently tugging at your soaked clothing. You nod your consent, lifting your arms to allow him to take off your shirt and bra, hips lifting to aid him in sliding your pants and panties down your legs afterwards. He keeps his eyes on yours out of politeness, clearing his throat awkwardly and letting out a rough sounding “Right.” when you remind him that he should take his off, too. Once you’re both naked, he hesitates again before sitting next to you, offering his palm in invitation.
“It would… Be quicker… If we shared body heat.” he sounds just as awkward as he feels, cringing internally at himself, goosebumps spreading over his skin when you tentatively push on his torso to make him lie down, joining him right after and curling your body against his. Logan takes it as a silent permission to start rubbing up and down your arm and leg from where you’re laid on your side against him, one of your hands coming up to rest on his bare chest. He tries to ignore the way your heartbeat is pounding in his ears, focusing on getting you warm enough to avoid any injuries. The process happens in comfortable silence despite the sexual tension reigning between the two of you, your body finally relaxing when your temperature comes back up to normal. He’s still trying to be polite, only glancing down at your face, body tensing up from the feeling of your bare breasts against his ribs, laid down flat on his back. Noticing his restrained expression, you run your hand down his chest lightly, stopping at his abdomen.
“You saved my life.” your voice is soft, making him turn to meet your fond gaze, heat creeping up the back of his neck.
“It’s nothin’, bub.” he assures you hoarsely, squeezing your arm affectionately.
“You would’ve done the same for me.” you smile at his comment, shaking your head affectionately and running your hand back up his chest.
“That's beside the point.” you protest gently, moving to press the entire length of your body into his side, making his eyes flutter shut and his breath hitch.
“How can I repay you?” you ask, lips slowly trailing down his shoulder, making him tense up again.
“You don’t have to do anything, bub.” he assures, a large, roughened palm coming up to cup the side of your face to make you look at him, concern flashing in his eyes once again.
“I want to. I've wanted to for a long time.” you reply, making him inhale sharply. He looks into your eyes for any sign of hesitation, thumb caressing your cheekbone before he exhales shakily, eyebrows furrowing.
“Are you sure?” he rasps out, finally allowing his desire to show. You nod, kissing his shoulder again, looking up at him with wide, worried eyes when he grasps your chin in his hand.
“I need to hear you say it, pretty thing.” he mumbles, voice serious. You only smile, moving your head to kiss his hand, holding his gaze steadily.
“I am sure. I want you, Logan." The words make him groan low in his chest, eyes searching yours for half a moment before finally giving in and shifting your bodies so you’re laying underneath him.
“Been wanting you for so long.” he confesses, the gravelly tone in his voice making you press your thighs together. The smell of your arousal hits his nose a second later, making his eyes roll back into his head, a moan leaving his lips. He wastes no time to kiss you, groaning softly at the sheer enthusiasm with which you kiss him back, mewling into his mouth. His tongue swipes over your bottom lip, tangling with yours when you part your lips in invitation. Pulling away for air, you gasp softly, arching your back to meet his chest when he grasps one of your thighs and spreads them, sliding between them in one fluid movement. The action causes his hips to fit right against yours, hard cock pressing against the slickness of your cunt. Moaning into each other’s mouths, you start swiveling your hips, causing his cock to nudge your swollen clit. Pulling away again, you feel your walls fluttering around nothing when you notice the trail of spit connecting the two of you— one that Logan has no shame licking away from your chin once it breaks off.
“Fuck, Logan, I need you.” you whine, making his cock throb. Gripping your thigh, he spreads you open even further, nestling his cock between your folds and grinding slowly.
“Gotta prep you first bub, don’t wanna hurt you.” he sounds far away, pupils swallowing the rich brown of his irises, but even then, he still worries about you; a fact that only seems to make you wetter. Despite your arousal, you still gasp out loud when he slides two fingers inside your cunt, your eyes fluttering shut at the delicious stretch his thick fingers provide. His eyes watch you carefully for any sign of discomfort as he starts to stretch you out, your body jolting upwards to meet his when a calloused thumb circles over your clit.
“You look so fuckin’ pretty like this, bub. Gonna take such good care of you.” his voice is lower than you’ve ever heard it before— tone almost dangerous— causing goosebumps to bloom across your skin. Your orgasm is building up quickly, mewls mixing with the loud, slick sound of Logan’s fingers drilling inside of you. Without warning, your thighs tense up and you let out a soft squeal, gushing around him. You can hear his depraved moan even through the deafening beating of your heart in your ears, teary eyes moving up to meet his as he brings his hand up to his face— his palm absolutely fucking soaked. You watch as he licks a stripe up his hand, his eyes rolling back into his head at the taste of you, cock twitching hard from where it’s pressed against your thigh. He inhales deeply, stomach tensing up for a brief moment before he finally regains control of his body, dark, hungry eyes landing on your fucked up form.
“Fuuuck, could come just from that.” his words have you aching again, a desperate tear running down your cheek— one he kisses away, humming lowly. You tangle your fingers in his hair as he starts kissing down your body, heart pounding in anticipation. Getting up on your elbows, you watch as he makes his way between your legs, feeling warmth creep up your neck and down your chest when he breathes you in loudly, groaning in the back of his throat. You try to push his head away timidly but he grasps your wrist with one hand, pinning it down and away from him.
“Let me have my moment. Been dreamin’ of having you like this for fucking ever.” the lust in his voice causes butterflies to erupt in your tummy, still shy from the shamelessness of his desire. Nodding your head, you sit back on your elbows, gently kicking him in retaliation when he gives you a cocky little grin and a hoarse mumble of “That’s it, good girl.”
Your amusement is, however, cut short by Logan burying his face between your thigh and licking a stripe from your hole to your clit, moaning against your cunt at the taste. Crying out loudly, you move again to tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling in encouragement as he practically makes out with your pussy, his eyes closing in ecstasy. He switches from thrusting his tongue inside you to sucking your clit between his lips, making you whine out his name. Through the thick fog of pleasure that overcomes your body, you notice the floorboards creaking under Logan’s weight— he’s driving his hips into the blankets, trying to alleviate some of the tension in his body. The sight makes you gush a second time without warning, your fingers pulling at his hair harshly and nails digging into his scalp as you come on his tongue. The moan he gives you in response makes you clench around nothing, feeling his body tense up and his hips stutter against the blanket before he relaxes, face still shoved into the meat of your leg. Oh.
“Did you just—“ you cut yourself off suddenly, feeling a delicious twist in your gut at the thought of Logan coming untouched simply from eating you out. Your lover picks his head back up with a dazed look in his eye, beard glistening with your slick. He’s still hard.
“Yeah. But I’m not done with you yet.” the promise in his voice makes you tremble, warmth coursing through your body— the mission could wait.
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett smut#logan howlett fic#logan howlett imagine#wolverine x reader#wolverine smut#wolverine fic#wolverine imagine#xmen smut#xmen imagine#xmen fic
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passenger princess +18
warning : kinda dark at some points, age gap, kinda public sex, afab, age gap, fem!reader, peachesxlogan, slight manipulation, dacryphilia kinda, pure smut, little plot, spitting, choking, fingering, breeding kink, creampie, dom!logan, kinda mean logan, not proofread!
a/n : wrote this sitting by the pool today, makes me think i’m solar powered or something cause i cooked lowkey.
written for my dear : @journal3sposts 💌 word count : 1.5k
you’d been here before. tipsy after a night out with ness and wade, in the passenger seat of logan’s car basically begging him to fuck you. the man had self control for the gods and you hated it.
the age gap between you and logan was substantial, you being the young age of twenty three. logan may not have looked a day over forty-five physically but sexually he had a hard time keeping up with you. especially when alcohol got involved.
you’re argument whenever he’d bring up how much you need him being ‘have you seen yourself? you’d want to fuck you too’
tonight was no different. except for the fact that not matter what happened he was fucking you in this car.
you turned in your seat to face logan pulling his hand higher on your thigh.
‘cmon lo, please jus’ wanna feel you’ you beg running your hand up his muscular arm to his neck turning his head toward you.
logan’s eyes stared down into you intimidatingly a small smirk gracing his beautiful face.
‘no’
roughly moving his head out of your hand facing the road again. huffing your cross your arms turning your body to face the window trying to hide your mischievous smile.
‘your seriously turning me down’
‘yes peaches i am’
‘i would’ve taken one of those guys from the bar home then if i knew you weren’t going to fuck me’ you snark out shaking his hand off your thigh ‘their young too, could probably keep up with me. i know you saw the way they all stared at me, at least someone wants me’
you don’t miss the way his hand flexes around the steering wheel and his jaw tightening before looking over at you.
‘you’re being a brat’ he bluntly states
‘yea and what are you going to do about it’ you sass out keeping your gaze locked on the outside view, your thighs clenching together for friction.
‘i’m gunna bring you back to the bar so you can go get one of those guys’
you’re head snaps up to look at him in panic watching him take a left turn instead of the usual right turn.
‘wait what’ you question
‘cmon you can’t be that dumb doll, i’m taking you to find someone who can keep up with you’ he glares
‘no lo, i was just kidding’ you rush out grabbing his forearm in protest ‘only want you’
‘mhm’ he hums, you notice the bar coming back into your line of vision your grip getting tighter on his arm.
‘please baby i promise i don’t want any of them’
you always did this. talked yourself into a hole and then couldn’t get out. one thing you knew for sure is that there was no other man for you.
‘i don’t know…’ his tone borderline mocking, not that you notice too caught up in the way he pulls the car around the back of the bar.
‘i promise lo’ you beg as he puts the car in park.
logan turns his whole body to face you, his broad shoulders blocking your view outside his window. he stares at you the tears lining your eyes from frustration, the pleading look adorning your soft features.
fuck it turned him on.
you loved playing your games, he knew that. but he wasn’t an idiot he could play the games too. i’m his opinion he could play them better.
he knew how to manipulate you to get you to do whatever he wanted, and in this moment he wanted you to beg for his forgiveness, not because he did anything wrong but because he wanted you to remind that you couldn’t live without him.
he could hear your heart, the never ending fast paced rhythm almost irregular at this point.
he could smell your arousal, how even though you were a nervous wreck thinking he was leaving you here you still wanted him bad enough.
he liked that.
true to his nature in that moment you were his prey, sitting pretty on the leather seats in his car.
his favorite fantasy.
eyes blown wide you waited for his next move, you feared it would never come.
you were surprised when his rough hands grabbed either side of your face roughly kissing you, grabbing you by your waist pulling you into his lap.
you clung onto him as if you let go he’d disappear. your movements desperate, grinding down onto his growing bulge.
you moan out when he bites your lip harshly drawing blood, you hands run up his neck and into his hair breaking the kiss ‘need you so bad’ you mumble out
‘you’ll always need me huh peaches?’ he grunts out bringing the bottom of your dress just above your hips ‘no panties tonight’ he questions
nodding your head and biting your lip with a smile on your face he groans.
‘what am i gunna do with you’
‘fuck me’
‘no i don’t think you deserve that yet’ he hums his hand finding solace on your upper thigh is fingers tracing small circles all the up to where you needed him most.
bucking your hips in a poor attempt to get him to touch you he withdraws his hand entirely looking at you with a raised eyebrow.
‘what do you want’ he asks his hand moving to your face his finger tracing you jaw.
you heavy breathing only stirring him on more as you breath out ‘i want you to touch me’
he chuckles lightly shaking his head ‘yea? where?’ he says.
your cheeks turn red as you bury your face into his neck leaving kisses in your wake. ‘please don’t make me say it’ you beg
his hand runs up your bag finding it’s place in your hair tugging hard removing your head from his neck, he turns your head downwards to face him. ‘say it’ he demands his eyes darkening at your defiance.
‘want you to touch my pussy please lo’ you cry out as soon as the words leave your mouth, him plunging his middle and ring finger into your tight cunt.
‘like this’ he questions never stopping the never ending curl of his fingers inside you.
‘yes, oh god’ you moan out your hips meeting each thrust of his fingers, his lips moving from your jaw to your neck.
you moan out when he sinks his canines into the side of your neck roughly. ‘gunna cum for me peaches?’
unable to form a solid thought you nod your head throwing his back closing your eyes.
‘gotta look at me when you cum around my fingers darlin’ he speaks roughly bring my head back to focus on him.
the bubble in your lower stomach tightening enough that it sends you over the edge, your hips freezing their movements, your grip tightening on the man before you as you come undone for what’s most likely the first time tonight.
holding you tight against his chest logan lights you up enough for him to free his cock from its confines. letting a string of spit fall onto his member he throws his head back as his moves his hand around the head.
‘m gunna fuck you now peaches’ he grunts out before slamming you down onto his member. not even giving you the chance to adjust to his length before he’s pushing you up and down making you take all of him.
you couldn’t form a single thought other than how no man will ever be able to satisfy you in the way logan does.
his name leaving your mouth like he was your god and you were on you knees for him.
his hand finds it place on your neck squeezing both sides of it cutting off your air supply.
‘this is what you wanted huh peaches? for me to fuck you like the whore you are in the parking lot where anyone of those boys can see just how good i fuck you’ he speaks roughly, his grip never letting up, his thumb pushing under your chin so you were looking up at him.
‘open’ he commands collecting his saliva in his mouth loosing his hold on your neck.
you oblige, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out ready for him.
he spits harshly in your mouth, the grip on your neck tightening again ‘swallow it’ he continues his assault on your cunt.
you felt the familiar warmth spreading throughout your body as your obeyed him swallowing. the tight band flexing beyond its limit as you clench unrelentingly around his cock.
‘that’s it’s peaches you gunna cum with me huh?’ he grunted his movements turning sloppy ‘gunna let me fill you up huh? give you my babies so you can never leave me’
his words throwing you over the edge as you scream out his name clamping down on him with shaking legs as he cums inside of you, grunting and groaning in your ear as he comes down from his high.
breathing heavily he throws his head against the head rest, still inside of you he gives you a lazy smile.
‘can’t keep up with you? not sure if your gunna be able to keep up with me, cause we’re not done here peaches’
taglist : my bby @cevansbaby-dove @rogueinmymind @rosewine-5 @caramelatae @catastrophe8866slut @barnes1487d @lexiway121 @ms-e-com @nayyomi @spookyfunhottub @megangovier @aphestina @txtgojou @its-not-about-angels @sammysvers @modrooli @twinky-wink @orisquirrelking @car1er @sseleniaa @nudziaraaa @pinkfloydsimp @scarlett-witchhh @shiawaseorii @sephirothhh @sturnizd @chaoticweirdogeek @magpiemayhem @hearts4suri @f4tnu663ts @tvdxavatarxst @vivas-xiv @k1t-k4ts @hettie1spam @sssprivlmaoo @rockytheluver @saturnluvvr @mysticpidge @sl4sh3r @ginamcflurry @malavera @reynaandeny @rissararity @angellreads @xoxoloverb
#logan howlett smut#logan howlett#hugh jackman#deadpool and wolverine#logan howlett x reader#tony stark#iron man#wolverine smut#wolverine#deadpool
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— 𝐈 𝐆𝐎𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔
PAIRING: logan howlett x gn!reader
PROMPT: prompt list used
117. “i’m not scared but if you are, you can hold my hand.”
TAGS: peer pressure, ooc!logan(?), halloween fic when it's only august, anxiety, fear of halloween maze (no scares actually depicted)
A/N: i reworded the dialogue prompt a bit to fit logan but yeah :) just a little bit of logan comfort in preparation for spooky season <3 happy reading!
WORD COUNT: 381
masterlist || request box <3
“I don’t know about this, Marie,” you swallowed as you stared down the maze’s entrance.
“C’mon, honey. Everyone is coming with,” she coaxed, lightly tugging your arm. “It’ll be fun!”
You sighed and gave in to her plea, trudging along behind the rest of them. Ever since you were a kid you absolutely hated scary stuff. You knew all of this stuff wasn’t real, but it was hard to make the distinction while in the thick of it.
As soon as you crossed the threshold into the maze, your heart rate spiked even higher than it already had been in anticipation, sweat starting to line your skin as the lights started to lessen. “Y/N,” someone called, but your brain didn’t quite register who it was in the midst of the raging heartbeat in your ears. Turning to look, you found Logan staring at you, his eyes soft and full of worry.
“Hm?”
“You okay, bub?” You nodded your head; unfortunately, very obviously lying to him through your teeth. You were as pale as a ghost and your breath erratic.
“If you’re scared, you could… hold my hand,” he offered, his voice low and gentle. Your eyes widened slightly in surprise at the gesture. You and him were close friends, and sure, you might have a tiny crush on him, but this was something new for you two. Your head moved before you could stop yourself, accepting the offer.
“My hands are a little clammy by the way, so I’m sorry about that. My anxiety goes crazy and then next thing you know, I’m absolutely covered in sweat,” you rambled, immediately stopping yourself when you realized how much you had just spoken. Just as Logan was about to say something back, the moment was quickly interrupted by Marie yelling back at them.
“C’mon you two!” You looked at him and found him already looking back, shrugging and holding out his hand. Gently, you placed your hand in his, warmth immediately coursing through your body at the feeling. For a second, you swear you saw him smile in the darkness of the maze.
“Thank you,” you quietly say, only loud enough for him to be able to hear. He gently squeezed the hand he held in his own.
"I got you, bub.”
#logan howlett fluff#logan howlett fic#xmen fic#wolverine#wolverine fic#wolverine fluff#wolverine angst#marvel#marvel fic#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#hugh jackman#logan howlett#xmen
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Kinktober Day 11: Voyeurism with Remy LeBeau/Gambit
Pairing: Remy LeBeau/Gambit X Fem!Reader Word Count: 1746 Warnings: Voyeurism, masturbation (M and F) and watching each other, Dirty talk, Pet names, Sex toys/Vibrators, Reader is a resident of the Institute so she could be a mutant.
Kinktober 2024 Master(sub)list.
Minors DNI
Your room was nearly silent as you closed the door, the click of the latch and the snick of the lock had a sense of finality.
Of course, the finality was that of your day, seeing as it was nearly ten at night, and all the other residents of the school were either asleep or heading that way.
You, however, had other plans.
It had been a long day, and a lonely one at that.
Remy had been sent off on a mission the morning before and you were left to wait for him to come back, and who knew how long that would take.
He could be gone for a day, a week, more even. And it drove you crazy, both with worry and need.
The lamp on your bedside table cast a low golden glow that didn’t quite reach the very corners of the room, a fact for which you were thankful. You didn’t have to think about what you couldn’t see, and for what you were planning, you wanted to maintain that bubble as much as you could.
The drawer made a quiet rasp as you opened and closed it, retrieving your treasure and tossing it on the bed without much thought before kicking your shoes off and shuffling your jeans down your legs, leaving you in your tank top and light pink panties.
You bounced a little as you plopped onto the bed, taking your treasure in hand.
A little powder blue vibrator.
It was maybe 4 or 5 inches from end to end, made of a soft silicon with embedded buttons for the settings. It was the best toy you’d ever owned, able to reach all your favorite spots at a speed that made your body light up like fireworks with minimal effort.
But tonight, you weren’t aiming for minimal effort. You wanted to draw out your own pleasure a bit.
So, rather than immediately turn it on and get down to it, you set it within reach for later as you lounged back against the pillows.
Slowly you trailed your fingertips along your skin, starting at your thigh with a feather light caress, as if you were your own lover, which you supposed you were tonight.
Goose bumps bloomed along your flesh as it tingled from the barely there touches, trailing up your body, tugging your shirt just a touch above the waistband of your panties but no higher.
Your fingertips brushed along your tummy and the touch had your nipples hardening as your body caught up to where you were heading.
Jumping up to your chest, you pinched lightly at the little peaks through the soft fabric with one hand, letting out a sigh at the sensation, as the other continued to caress along your belly and thighs, dipping between them but never touching the end goal.
That was for later.
Instead, you gave a slightly harder pinch to your nipple before switching sides to give the other some attention, your eyes rolling closed momentarily at the sensations.
Soon enough, your shirt just became annoying, and a little stifling. So, off it came, falling in a little heap with your jeans on the floor.
This time both hands gave your tits attention, first with a slow massage, kneading the soft flesh before returning to the darkened peaks of your nipples, rolling both at the same time.
The feeling had a soft gasp falling from your lips before you drew them between your teeth, though you knew you didn’t need to, seeing as all the rooms are soundproofed after a rather…Interesting night for Logans hallway-mates.
Shaking your head you pushed all thoughts of anything that wasn’t what you were currently doing away.
And it worked. For a solid 3 seconds before…
“Now, Chére. If Gambit had known this was what he was going to be welcomed home to, he woulda come back a lot sooner.”
You shot up right, eyes flying open as you looked toward the ensuite bathroom to see him leaned against the door frame, arms crossed and smirking.
“Remy!” You grinned as you went to stand, but slowly sank back down as he lifted his hand to wordlessly tell you to stay.
“Don’t stop the show on my account, Petit…” He purred, red irises looking like smoldering coals as they trailed up and down your nearly naked body.
He’s seen you plenty of times, you’d been together for long enough, but he never got tired of just looking at you.
“Back to it, Chére…I’m waitin…” He continued, starting to look like a cat that got the cream.
You could feel the flush rushing up your neck to your cheeks, this was new. You’ve touch gotten each other off with just your hands before, but watching the other do it themselves? It was untread territory, and God was it hot.
Settling back on the bed, you continued where you left off, rolling your nipples with your fingertips. Your eyes tried to roll closed again, but you resisted it, wanting to see the man that stood before you.
As you slowly worked yourself up, Remy moved to the chair that sat in the corner, pulling it to the foot of the bed and sitting down. His legs were spread, and you could see the growing bulge in his pants.
You could feel you were getting wet, and you needed more. So, you let your right-hand drift down between your legs to ever so lightly rub your clit through the fabric of your panties.
It felt like being shocked and it yanked a gasp from you, legs twitching as if to close but you stopped yourself, not wanting to obstruct Remy’s view.
And what a view it was. His girl, on the bed in just her damp pink panties, making herself feel good while she looked at him. The Cajun thought he could get drunk on a sight like this.
Your fingertips made little circles, and your head fell forward as soft moans escaped on every breath. You could feel the material soak through, and decided you were thoroughly done with all the barriers.
So, with a soft huff you shoved them down your legs, kicking them onto the floor, and earning an amused chuckle from the man in front of you.
“So cute all frustrated like this…” He mused with a tilt of his head.
You sent him a withering glare before returning to the task at hand, slipping your hand back between your thighs to run your fingers between your folds before bringing them, now slickened, back to your clit.
It felt like a shock before. Now it was electrifying.
Little waves of pleasure made even more little goose bumps form as your flush spread down your chest, warming you even further.
In the quiet you could hear wet noises that you might have been embarrassed about if not for the way Remy was watching your hand with rapt attention, like he was watching some kind of religious event.
“Belle…” He murmured, dark eyes drinking you in.
“Rem…” You whined as your finger sped up a little, watching his cock give a little kick behind the material of his pants.
“What is it, Chére?” He asked coyly, as if he wasn’t fully aware that you wanted him to touch you, almost as much as you wanted him to stay right there and keep watching.
“Feels good…” You answered as your head fell forward and your eyes drifted closed.
“Good. Pretty petits should feel good.” He answered as he leaned forward on his seat, elbows on his knees. “Look at me, Chére…” He ordered and you were helpless to resist.
Your half lidden eyes met his and you could see the air punch out of him at the sight.
“Where’s your toy?” He asked and watched as your free hand lifted from where it had been slightly under you, how it had gotten there was mystery to you. “Go on.”
He didn’t need to elaborate.
You pulled your hand from between your legs and used the slick that clung to your skin to lubricate the end of the toy just a little, and you heard Remy groan softly at the sight.
There was the sound of a zipper and your gaze returned to him, finding that he’s pulled his dick free from its confines and it lightly stroking it, a manner like he’s simply keeping it hard till you make your next move.
Patient as you please.
His cock head is red and glistening with pre-cum, which his hand spreads down the length with what you’re sure would be a filthy sound if not for the sound of you turning on your vibrator.
First contact is loud as you jolt with a high gasp, pulling the toy away from your clit immediately lest it turn from pleasure to pain from too much too fast.
“Easy, Chére…” Remy drawled, half lidded eyes watching you breathe hard for a moment before relaxing once more.
You let out an annoyed whine before taking a deep breath and bringing the head of the toy back between your thighs, this time hovering it lightly against your clit.
A shiver rolled through you as tight waves of pleasure rolled through your system. “F-F-Fuuuck…” You moaned as you got used to the feeling, slowly giving a little more pressure as your free hand moved down to your neglected hole, caressing up and down before pressing two fingers in. Your legs shook as the pressure in your belly built.
Your eyes snapped open when another wet sound met your ears, landing on Remy’s fast-moving hand, cock wetter than it had been a few moments ago and you wondered when he’d grabbed the lube.
“C-C’mon, Chére…Lemme see…” He moaned as he watched you, looking like a man that just spent a hundred years in the desert being offer a glass of water.
Pressing your fingers further in, you searched for a moment before another high breathy sound left you, rubbing hard against your G-spot as you circled your vibrator on your clit.
Your orgasm hit you faster and harder than you expected as your body tensed up, eyes locked on Remy’s as his own end came crashing into him with spurts of white staining his hand and lower tummy.
Your legs shook as you stared at each other, an unspoken agreement that this wasn’t going to be the last time you did this.
Not by a long shot.
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Drunk!Logan X Drunk!MaleReader Part 4
I really think I should change the title since they haven't been drunk for the last 5 parts but oh well it's stuck now
Summary: You and Logan have been able to move past all that has happened, and slowly you two are becoming closer. Maybe the quicker than the two of you believe at first
Word Count: 2.9k+
Tags: fluff, friendly fighting, almost a confession
After your late night meeting you and Logan attempted to be civil. The unease between the two of you had disappeared but you still felt unsure about where you stood with him.
He was compassionate but he was like that with everyone at the mansion. His anger and standoffish attitude was a stark contrast to his compassionate moments. Logan wasn't an asshole, but he wasn't the easiest guy to get along with. These two personality traits of his clashed but someone how balanced him at the same time.
The two of you nodded at each other as you passed in the halls. You sometimes visited him between classes but not often. You were making an effort to try and get yourself out there but it was all new to you. And you still didn't want to get in anybody's way or cause any problems. The habit of acting like you didn't exist for other people convenience was a hard one to break. But Logan's words had really hit where it mattered and you were trying to take it on board.
What he said about everyone having at least one person to stick by was something you thought about often. And you guessed that you chose Logan. It wasn't unexpected perse but more of a risk. Because you didn't know if he would choose you back. In your head it was like an unrequited friendship...but he had approached you first. So maybe it wasn't unrequited? You didn't know. And it hurt your head to think about it too much.
Logan was glad to see you around more often. Not ignoring him anymore. He didn't know why it bothered him so much but it just did. And he was glad that you didn't seem so sullen around the halls. You were by no means happy go lucky or bubbly...not at all. But he did notice a change. You held your head a little higher. You went out of your way to say hello to the kids that passed by you. Even bringing coffee to Storm and Scott during their lessons.
You brought him a "coffee" once as well at the break between his last lessons of the day. The coffee was in fact whiskey disguised in a coffee mug and he was quite surprised when you handed it to him with a finger pressed silently to your lips. You didn't bother to stick around. But he understood the sentiment behind the gesture. The change was evident in and of itself. He wasn't going to push you. He knew how hard you were trying already.
One night, a sleepless night like usual, you were out in the garden again. This time wandering around by the orchard towards the back of the school. The trees weren't in bloom yet but their leaves were green and full of life so you knew it wouldn't take long. You were tired, you felt exhausted but your brain was wired which made your body buzz. How those two things worked you didn't know, they just did. Maybe it was because the fatigue had set in really badly and your body was overcompensating with adrenaline. Probably not a good sign but like every other night you ignored it.
From behind you you heard a twig snapping and you turned to see Logan walking towards you in the moonlight. You hoped he would come see you again at night but he hadn't since that evening.
Logan looked at you as he walked with his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. He watched as you turned to look at him. You arms resting on the fence dividing the properties.
"Hey" you called softly
"Can't sleep?" He asks in response
"Yup, thinking about too much I guess. Too...pent up" you say sighing
"About what?"
You tapped your nose "That's for me to know" you say cheekily but it's half hearted, 'and you to find out' you finish the phrase in your head. You didn't like it when he pried. But a small part of you wished he did. So you would have an excuse to tell somebody about what was on your mind. But considering the first time he'd done that it ended in disaster, he didn't ask.
He let out a small laugh, the type that only goes out your nose in one puff of breath.
Logan joins you on the fence. The two of you stand in silence together as the wind makes the trees rustle and your hair being pushed to the one side, your fringe being pushed off your head.
Logan's cowlicks remained umoved as the wind continued to blow.
You watched him as his eyes flowed over the branches of trees in front of you. He was rushing the view before him.
His brown eyes were beautiful in the moonlight, lighter than normal in contrast to the blue light that the moon gave off. In the sunlight they were like whiskey but in the moonlight they were like tigers eye jemstones. Deep and rich with hints of gold, only revealing itself in certain lights.
They were breath taking. All of his feature were. His curly brown hair, his mutton chops that dulled the sharpness of his jaw but framed his face. Their was a tiredness to his face that outweighed the boyish charm his face still held. You didn't know much about Logan's past. But you could tell that he had been through enough to age him years more than he was.
Logan turned his head and caught you staring.
"The view is in front of us, bub"
You blink and look away, staring far into the distance instead. You sigh and cursed yourself self for getting distracted. What was wrong with you?
Suddenly Logan nudge you in the side with his elbow "C'mon, let's spar for a bit"
"Now? Won't that wake everyone?"
"Not in the danger room it won't"
He smirks at you and pushes away from the fence walking back towards the mansion. After a moment's hesitation you follow him
The two of you walk through the manor, passing no one on your way, taking the elevator down to the war room and down the hall to the Danger room. The flashy X door turns and opens and the two of you step inside. Logan fiddles with the computer for a moment until the room transforms into a forest landscape. The trees are corporal to the touch. It was incredible.
You would have to ask Hank someday how he did it.
Logan walks away from the computer as it disguises itself in the landscape it created. He turns to face you and pulls off his jacket discarding it by a tree which he marks with a single claw scratch.
You roll your neck trying to get the kinks out of it, knowing your head will have to be on a swivel with Logan.
He purposefully picked a landscape that he would be more accustomed to. You’d lived in the city all your life, even when you were shunned you stayed in the slums on the streets. Skulking in back alleys. You knew the concrete jungle. Not the real one
Logan cracks his knuckles flexing his fingers as he protracts his claws.
You watch as the skin in between his knuckles splits open, you think about how painful that must be for him. You cringe internally.
"You ready bub?"
"Yeah, bub. Just don't go easy on me. I'm not as fragile as you might think"
He smirks and gets down low. You roll up the sleeves of your flannel and bring your arms up into a defensive position.
He makes the first move. Running at you full speed, you counter by sliding between his legs, he attempts to stab you as you go down but misses. You jump up and give him a light kick in the back.
He turns to you and growls though the smirk hasn't left his lips.
He lunges for you again this time making a fake right and then spinning left to slash at you. You doge out of the way of his attack but he nick's your arm. The not too deep gashes appear and disappear on your arm.
"Is that all you got?" You goad him, an almost flirtatious tone to your voice.
Both of you were becoming hot and bothered as you fought. The sweat dripped off his face as it soaked through his tank top, sticking it to his chest. You had pulled off your flannel at some point and discarded it by the same tree Logan had his leather.
You continue to leap for him, repaying his onslaught with your arms up for defence and your legs out to attack.
Logan is clearly in his element as he evades your futile attempts at attacks. You hadn't been able to land a worthwhile blow yet but he hadn't knocked you down either.
Logan was dodging behind trees, swinging from low branches and kicking off the trunks to give him a height-advanced attack. He's fast and it takes all your concentration to turn and counter his attacks.
At one point he disappears from sight and you look around frantically. Panting hard from the half hour you are sure has passed by.
You turn looking this way and that but in the split second you face your back to him Logan leaps at you and knocks you to the ground. The force of his body weight slamming into yours sent you to the leaf strewn ground with a hard thud.
He stood over you as you tried to jump up. Holding a set of claws to your face
You keep your hands up, breathing hard as he breathed equally as hard over you. The two of you stay there for a while. Logan isn't continuing the fight but you aren't ready to give up.
Logan was right a fight was a good idea but now you were pent up in other ways. Every time Logan had pushed you around or you had countered his attacks the touches sent shivers down your spine amongst the warmth that flooded your body from the exercise.
You were enjoying Logan's company but maybe more than just as a good sparring partner. You had to admit that Logan was pretty easy on the eyes. And not too bad looking disheveled from the exercise either.
More than once you had caught yourself looking at his toned arms and tight chest. And not just because he happened to be attacking you with full force.
But Logan had been noticing the same things about you. Each time you managed to land a punch. Even if it was weak he felt pride and even some joy in the fact that he could finally spar with someone he didn't have to hold back with.
Your hair was darker than usual and flat to your head. Your body was almost as tonned as his and he started to understand why he got so many looks whenever he wore something semi tight.
You were quite handsomely built. Not that he let that distract him.
Ok maybe it did a little bit. He wondered what you would look like with your shirt off. He hoped that maybe if he ran you around enough you would over heat and take it off.
His heart had skipped a beat when you took your flannel off to inadvertently show your arms off.
As he stood over you he panted watching the way your eyes flicked over his body. He was waiting for you to concede. Not making you give up but giving you the option.
You took the third option. You grabbed the arm pointed at you and pulled with all your might. You brought your foot up and pushed into his stomach. Using the momentum to lift him up and over your head and onto his back. You scrambled onto him to hold him down.
You might just win this fight.
You allow all your body weight to push him into the fake earthen ground. Holding his hands by his head so he couldn't scratch you and keeping your legs squeezed against his waist so he couldn't move his hips too much. You didn't want him pulling a move on you.
It was your turn to look down at him now.
And damn did he look good in this position
Logan was inclined to agree. He swallowed hard as he looked up into your face. Now that he was closer he could see the light stubble that was growing across your jaw. The specks of hair on your cheeks and above your upper lip.
It gave you that edge to your look and he found it quite attractive.
You watched as his eyes twitched as he looked at your face. Moving his eyes only as far as they needed to go to scan your face.
"Do I win?" You ask cockily a smirk being pulled into your face
The two of you pant roughly and it takes him a minute to respond.
"Dunno, are you finished bub? Or do you wanna go a round two?"
This conversation was beginning to sound less like sparring and more like something else.
The adrenaline from this fight was melting away any lack of confidence you had. Replacing it with stoic triumph and gall.
"I bet you'd like that wouldn't you. Be able to top me for real if I was tired out from another round"
The words left your mouth but as you said them you heard them echo in your head and you felt a warmth creep up your neck that had nothing to do with the sparing.
This was getting out of hand and you were starting to question your choices. You let go of Logan and stood up. Stepping away from him.
He has the same slight scowl in his face as he always does but you thought you saw a hint of disappointment in his eyes.
Logan was indeed disappointed. Not only in the space you had created between the two of you but how your bravado from before suddenly withered away like a flower doused with poison.
He watched as you turned away and walked to pick up your flannel and he followed. He wasn't going to let you walk off on him this time. Especially when something was going on now.
He had seen that glint in your eyes even if it was brief. Something was happening here and he was going to confront you about it.
He realised now why you allured him so much, why he was desperate to keep track of you after that night at the bar. Hell why he had followed you to that barnin the first place.
Yes alright he admits it he followed you.
As you bend over to scoop up your jacket and hand Logan's back to him you turn to see him inches from your face.
In surprise you take a step back and bump into the tree.
He leant forward and put a hand on the trunk by your head and the other by your hip
"Why do you keep running from me?" Logan asks. His voice low.
His face is so close to yours you could have counted the individual hairs of his mutton chops.
You swallowed and he watched as your Adams apple bobbed with the movement.
"You can let people in you know. It sure as hell ain't easy, I know."
You had no idea why Logan was so close. Why was he confronting you like this again? Why were his eyes were the prettiest thing you had ever seen?
You startled yourself with that thought and had to look away, turning your head to the side. But then you were startled once more as his calloused hand pulled at your chin softly turning your head back to face him.
Your eyes widen as you look at him. A somber tenderness in your voice. Like you were a lost child or an injured creature.
And maybe you were. A mutant with a dark past could be likened to that of a downed bear.
"I told you. I can't get close to people"
He cocked his head and let go of your chin
"You seem pretty close to me. And you didn't seem to unhappy about me joining you outside either. That's more than anyone else here has done"
You press your back harder against the tree as he moves into your space even more. All the while without touching you.
"...sometimes there are exceptions" you whisper as you continue to look at his eyes. He was so close you could see your own reflection in them. It was confronting.
He was confronting. He was standing in your space and you were letting him. This time he didn't even have to hold you to keep in place. Given the choice you wouldn't have moved anyway.
Logan's eyes flicked down to your lips and back up again. He could smell the deep rich tones in your scent this close. The salt and the earth mixed with your musk from all the training. He watched as your eyes glistened in the artificial light from the danger room.
He studied every inch of your face like it was a master piece crafted by Michelangelo himself. And to Logan you were. As detailed as the marble he carved but as hardy as it too. Almost impenetrable on contact.
"Am I your exception?" Logan asks bringing his face closer to yours and lowering his voice even more. The bass of his tone mixed with the quietness of voice.
"Because I think your mine"
Logan knew now you were something special to him. Like human magnetism that pulled him towards you. Even if he wanted to pull away he couldn't. He should have noticed when you first joined the team but he only fully understood now.
And you understood why you sought his attention and his approval at first. Logan inspired you as a hero and as a person. But it was so much more than that, he was alluring and too hard to stay away from.
That's why you had to leave that night, to drink away any and all feelings. Because in the end they all came back to Logan.
"Just let me in, please" he whispered. His breath hitting your lips as he spoke
Oh yes I am being that bitch. You guys are going to have to wait for part 6 for me to get to juicy stuff. I am going to drag this out as long as possible hahah!
Part 6 is here! (finally)
#writing#creative writing#on writing#writer#writeblr#write#writers on tumblr#writerscommunity#ao3 writer#amwriting#writers#author#logan howlett#logan#wolverine#wolverine xmen#x men#danger room#wolverine x male reader#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#wolverine x men#logan x reader#logan howlett x male reader#logan x you#marvel#fluff#feelings#almost confession#not quite
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Trigger Control
CW: MDNI 18+ ONLY, Wade Wilson, Fem!Reader, Gun Play
word count: 1.3K
A/N: Y'all remember that little spin Wade did to reload his gun before he fought Logan in the Void? Well, I was thinking about it and had the most filthy thoughts...As always comments likes and reblogs are appreciated!
The room was bathed in a dim, crimson glow, the neon sign flickering just outside the window, casting erratic shadows over the walls. It was the kind of night that felt electric, where every breath hung in the air, charged with something dangerous and unsaid.
You sat on the edge of the bed, legs crossed, wearing nothing but one of Wade's old t-shirts. It barely skimmed past your thighs, the fabric soft and worn against your skin. Across the room, Wade leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his scarred chest, his tactical pants hanging low on his hips. His eyes, dark and full of that familiar, cocky heat, never left you. In his hand, he casually held a sleek black Glock, spinning it idly as if it were no more dangerous than a toy.
“You know,” his voice was a low rasp, lazy, yet sharp with an edge that made your breath catch, “this little game of ours? I’m starting to think you like it way too much.”
Your heart raced as you met his gaze, trying to maintain your composure. “And what game is that?”
Wade pushed off the wall with ease, swaggering toward you in that predatory way that always made your pulse quicken. The closer he came, the tighter the tension wound inside you. His gaze flickered down your body, lingering on your bare legs, exposed beneath the hem of the shirt that barely clung to your hips.
"The one where you pretend this doesn't turn you on." The gun in his hand shifted, and the sight of it sent a ripple of heat through your core. He wasn’t threatening—at least, not exactly. But there was something about the weight of the weapon in his hand, the knowledge of what it could do, that made you feel alive, aware of every inch of your body and how tightly strung you were.
You swallowed, your throat dry. “Wade…”
“Shhh,” he murmured, stepping in close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off his body. His hand slid under your chin, tilting your face up toward his. His thumb brushed over your lower lip, just barely, a tease of what could come. “Look at you. So fucking pretty when you’re trying to be tough.”
Your breath hitched when the gun—cold, solid, unyielding—brushed against the side of your thigh. The chill of the metal against your skin sent shivers coursing through you, every nerve sparking to life. It was intimate, dangerously so. Wade’s gaze held yours, the glint in his eyes darker now, hungrier.
“Feel that?” he whispered, dragging the gun up the inside of your thigh, slow and deliberate. “That’s power, baby. And you love it, don’t you?”
Your body betrayed you, arching ever so slightly toward the cold metal, thighs parting instinctively as he brought the barrel closer to your heat. You gasped, the sensation sharper than you expected, a mix of cold steel and burning need.
“Answer me,” Wade growled, voice rough, almost primal, as he pressed the gun just beneath the curve of your ass. “You like this, don’t you?”
“Yes,” you breathed, your voice barely more than a whisper, raw with desire.
His lips twitched into a wicked grin, leaning in closer, his mouth brushing the shell of your ear. “I thought so.”
The gun traced a slow path up your body, the barrel cold against your skin, pausing at the hem of the shirt. Wade’s breath was hot against your neck, his free hand gripping your waist, pulling you flush against him. The heat of his body was overwhelming, contrasting with the icy touch of the gun as it slid higher, pushing the fabric of the shirt up with it.
He leaned back, just enough to lock eyes with you, his grin stretching wider. “I could put one in the chamber right now,” he said, his tone dark and full of twisted amusement. The barrel of the gun nudged higher, grazing your bare skin beneath the shirt, the cool steel brushing against your stomach. “Right here. Between your legs. And you’d still trust me, wouldn’t you?”
Your heart pounded, breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. It wasn’t fear, not with him. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you. The danger, the thrill of it, only fueled the fire burning low in your belly.
“I trust you,” you whispered, the words slipping from your lips before you could even think.
Wade’s grin softened, but the hunger in his eyes only grew darker. He pressed the gun against your skin again, dragging it up higher, stopping just beneath your breasts. His voice dropped to a gravelly whisper. “You’re something else, baby.”
With one swift motion, he flipped the gun in his hand, pressing the cool grip into your palm. You hesitated for a moment, the weight of it heavy, solid. Wade stepped back, just a few inches, but enough to give you space, his eyes gleaming with mischief and desire.
“Go on,” he murmured, voice low and rough. “Show me how much you trust me.”
Your pulse thundered in your ears as you wrapped your fingers around the gun, lifting it slowly. Wade’s chest rose and fell with his breathing, his hands raised in mock surrender as you aimed it at him, the barrel pointed directly at his chest.
He didn’t flinch. If anything, his grin widened, his gaze locked on yours. “That’s it,” he said softly, his voice like a dark caress. “You gonna shoot me, sweetheart?”
The power was intoxicating. You felt it humming through your veins as you held the gun steady, watching his every move. Your finger hovered near the trigger, the temptation sending a sharp thrill through you.
Wade took a step forward, his chest nearly brushing the barrel now. “Or are you gonna give in to that ache between your legs?”
Your breath hitched, heat pooling low in your stomach. The tension between you was unbearable, a razor-thin line between danger and desire. Your grip tightened around the gun as Wade’s hand slid along the barrel, lowering it slowly, his eyes never leaving yours.
Before you could react, he grabbed you, his lips crashing into yours with a fierce, desperate hunger. The gun slipped from your fingers, clattering to the floor, forgotten in the haze of heat and need. Wade’s hands were rough, gripping your hips, pulling you hard against him as he deepened the kiss, his teeth grazing your lower lip.
You moaned into his mouth, hands clutching at his shoulders as he guided you backward, his lips never leaving yours. His body pressed against you, solid, hot, unyielding. You could feel him, hard and ready, pressing insistently against your thigh.
Wade broke the kiss, panting heavily, his forehead resting against yours. “God, you drive me fucking insane,” he growled, his voice thick with need.
“Shut up and fuck me already,” you whispered, voice shaking with desire, your hands gripping the waistband of his pants, tugging him closer.
He laughed, dark and full of heat, before his lips were on yours again, rougher this time, more desperate. His hands slid beneath the hem of the shirt, fingers brushing over your bare skin, pulling the fabric up and over your head in one swift motion.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he rasped, his eyes raking over you, drinking in every inch of bare skin exposed to him.
His hands moved to your thighs, lifting you easily as he pressed you back against the wall, his body caging you in. You wrapped your legs around his waist, gasping as the hard length of him pressed against your core, only the thin fabric of his pants separating you.
He ground his hips into you, and you arched against him, a moan spilling from your lips as the friction sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your body. “Wade,” you gasped, nails digging into his shoulders.
“Yeah, baby,” he growled, his mouth moving to your neck, biting down just enough to leave a mark. “I’m gonna give you what you need.”
#wade wilson#deadpool#deadpool and wolverine#wade wilson x fem reader#wade wilson x girlfriend!reader#wade wilson x reader#kink: gun play#tw: guns#mcu comics#mcu fandom#marvel#ryan reynolds#light smut#deadpool 3#mcu movies
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Sweetcheeks (Logan Howlett x fem!reader smut)
Look, this is my first time writing for Logan, so please forgive me. It's been just over a month since I saw deadpool and wolverine and I'm not about to apologise for wanting to fuck that old man 😌
anyway just a short little something to get me out of my writing funk
Word Count:589
Masterlist
When you're spread out underneath him, safely caged by his strong arms, he's all stifled grunts as he rocks his hips into you. Heavy, pounding thrusts as he sinks his cock deeper into you every time. Growls of pleasure rumbled into your ear as he fucks you with everything he's got.
“You're fuckin’ mine, ain'tcha sweetcheeks” his gravely voice rasped out.
Fingertips clinging to his broad shoulders, nails leaving half-moon marks as you hold on to him, hanging on for dear life as he rails into you. Your soft thighs hugging around his hips, and your ankles locking together as they cross at his back. Every inch he gives you rewards him with the salaciously slick, wet noises of your cunt stretched around his thick cock.
“Look at you..fuck..practically creamin’ for me and I’ve hardly touched ya” he teases, as he continues to pound you with his relentless thrusts.
With every inch he fucks into you, you feel it. You feel it in the deliciously burning stretch of your cunt, so much that you fear that he might break you. And as your hand coasts down between your tightly pressed bodies you feel it, the way he’s bulging in your stomach with every thrust.
“Taking it like a champ though, aren’t ‘ya darlin’?” his voice teases again, as his rough hand joins yours, pressing down on the bulge, smirking down at you from under his dark gaze. “Looks like you’re fulla’ me”
Flushing hot at his words it’s all you can do to nod and whimper out little moans as his hand moves lower down your body, snaking down to your clit, and rubbing precise little circles around it just the way he knew you liked.
Your whines pitched higher and higher as you neared the high of your orgasm, and you knew he wasn’t too far behind you as the tell-tale creaking noise of his adamantium claws began to pinch through his clenched fists.
Moans shared between sloppy kisses and playful bites nibbled into the crook of his neck. Making sure to leave your mark on him, one way or another.
“Y’getting close? Yeah, I know you are, I can feel you squeezing me.”
Please please please, you desperately whine, he was dangling you just on the edge of anticipation and pleasure and all you wanted was for him to give it all to you.
He doubles down in his efforts and that’s all it takes before you’re gushing out your release, practically crying as the pleasure wracks through your body.
“‘Atta girl, that’s it…” he coos as best he can in his gravelly voice, slowing his thrusts to see you through the shuddering shocks of your high.
“Think you can handle a little more, sweetcheeks?” he asks softly, his hard cock still instantly pressing between your folds.
You offer him a soft hum and a nod of your head, and with that he’s slipping himself back inside you, rolling his hips in steady thrusts, his stomach muscles clenching with tension each time he sinks himself into you.
You wince at the stretch but breathe through it, and he rails into you once, twice, three times more and with a growled moan he spills rope after rope of his hot seed inside you, filling you with everything he has until all that’s left is slowly dripping out of you.
He holds himself above you, and as he flashes you that all to cocksure grin, you know that with him, you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.
@penguinsandpotterheads @paybacksawitch @mrsjellymunson
#logan howlett x reader#wolverine x reader#logan howlett x reader smut#wolverine x reader smut#logan howlett x female reader#logan howlett x female reader smut#wolverine x female reader#wolverine x female reader smut
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RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME
➛ 06. TIME CAN NEVER MEND
a/n: so before you dive into this i'm gonna warn you that it's not happy. we have reached the level of angst needed to start this story on it's final arc. the one that changes basically everything. i've put a lot of angst into this, because that's what it called for and well...if you've been here for awhile you know i love my angst. i'm sorry beforehand and can promise a happy ending. but these two have to suffer first.
summary: logan howlett is happy. he's content. by all definitions...he's found the reason for why he's still alive and it all leads down to you. yet time is a fickle and cruel being and she's decided his time for peace must come to an end.
word count: 7k+
pairing: logan howlett x f!reader
warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, angst, a heaping of angst so bitter you will yell at me, oral (f receiving), face riding, overstimulation, wade wilson, mutant powers, violence, tw: blood, tw: gore, trauma resurfacing, ptsd, insanity, tw: torture, cliffhanger, BE WARNED PLEASE DON'T SKIP OVER THESE.
PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST
Silence filled his mind, darkness an endless expanse behind his shut eyes. He couldn't remember the last time the world fell quiet. Piercing through him with a serenity he fought his entire life to acquire. Nightmares were an expected routine that came to him constantly with a bitter echo of things he couldn't change; people he never saved.
He couldn't recall sleeping without them. Not since he was a sickly child in his father's house—fighting fevers that were caused by a mutation he didn't know existed.
Eventually the world would rip a part his bubble of safety—expose him to horrors he never thought imaginable. He'd struggle against it. Bite, snarl, fight his way through the pain like an animal who'd been caged for far too long. There would be no light at the end of his tunnel. No peace for the man plagued by promises he longed to break—a vow he didn't intend to make.
Only to be found by the one person he thought was lost to his world.
A love that lingered in the shadows of his heart. Bringing back the flame of a torch that blew out the night he lost everything.
He awoke to the warmth of your body tangled with his. His heart didn't race with the anticipation of a battle that didn't exist. His claws were safely stored away in the depths of his arms, and for the first time...his soul didn't scream in agony for help that would never arrive. You shifted with a puff of air, a grumble building in your throat at the morning chill. He watched in rapture—his fingers trailing down your spine.
The clock read eight in the morning. Plenty of time for you to sleep in given it was your last day off. So Logan remained still in order to not disturb your peace. He sucked in slow breaths as you pressed your cheek to his chest—arm wrapped around his waist and legs tangled with his. Each small shift of your face, the furrow of your brows and quickening of your heart, let him know you were trapped in a dream.
Good or bad he couldn't tell.
What did you dream about? What ran through your mind when sleep washed over your body?
He made a mental note to ask when your eyes finally cracked open. The spell of sleep lost, retreating to the depths of your mind till later. But for now he admired the shape of your face, the lilt in your eyes and curve of your lips. You were a painting come to life. An art piece stolen right off the walls of The Met.
How he managed to wind up here, waking up beside you, continued to baffle him the longer he thought about it.
Surely he committed too many atrocities to deserve this. Too many lives lost by his claws, too much pain wrought by his own actions. He shouldn't be allowed to lay here, holding you close with a reverence that he thought was lost to the tragedies of his past. He once counted the days until his death. Marked them off with a tally that seemed to only grow the longer he went.
Now he thanked whatever higher being existed for giving him this.
For gifting him you.
Another soft grunt left your parted lips, nose scrunching in distaste as you were roused from your sleep. He smiled at the sight of your eyes fluttering open, confusion flickering across your features for mere seconds before it all came rushing back. The time spent with Logan ravishing your body in this very bed, in the shower you shared. The sweetening ache between your thighs that practically called his name.
You sighed, glancing up at him with drowsy glazed eyes and a crooked smile. "Morning," you rasped, voice thick with sleep.
His heart twisted in his chest. A feeling he could only describe as love began to filter through his veins like an IV. Filling him with the fear that usually came with that four letter word—the terror of possibly losing this. He swallowed it down painfully, his hand moving to press at the base of your spine to pull you closer.
"Sleep well?" he rumbled, dipping down to catch your lips in a kiss.
The shower last night left your skin warm to the touch. Logan found he couldn't get enough of it. He curled himself around you, drawing your leg up to hook around his waist as a way to keep your skin against his. You hummed in appreciation, pushing your face up to meet his movements in kind.
Sunlight spilled into the bedroom with a familiar warmth. The window was shut and locked after yesterday's phone call. Yet the muffled echo of the world managed to slip through the cracks in the wood, echoing in your small bubble of serenity he longed to stay in. This felt like a hazy dream. One that clung to the edges of his mind, dripping small slivers of joy into his heart.
Logan longed to remain here. Buried in the bed with you wrapped tightly around him.
Eventually you parted with a soft gasp, your hips shifting subtly to relieve the ache that began to bloom and unfurl in your body. Even though you had more than your fill of him yesterday, you remained insatiable.
He couldn't say he was any better—his cock already twitching in interest. If he had his way neither of you would find the need to leave this bed; far more interested in how many more orgasms he could wring from your still spent body.
"I like this," you murmured against his cheek, fingers delving into his messy hair. "Waking up with you."
"Me too honey." He grinned when you kissed his chin, thumb running along the edge of his jaw.
A soft breath washed along his skin, sending chills down his spine. "How did you sleep?"
"No nightmares."
He felt you smile. "Are you lying to me Howlett?"
Fuck if you weren't the last thing he wanted to see at night and the first thing he was welcomed to in the morning. Something sharp pricked his chest, bleeding him of the doubt that might still remain. Lingering beneath the surface of too many broken promises and shattered versions of I love you.
This happened before. A love so deep he felt it solidify into his very mutant DNA. Back then he thought it would one day come to an end; finalize when he fucked up too many times for you to forgive.
Now he knew there was no end to this road that wound up with him alone. No version of the story where he sat at a bar somewhere in the back roads of nowhere, lamenting about a woman he once wanted to spend forever with. Whether he stayed young and you grew too old; there wouldn’t be a final page without him in your life.
What transpired here would knot the strands of fate together. So if one was sliced for the final vow of death. They both went together.
"I'm not lying," he confessed. "I didn't really dream of anythin' this time around."
You hummed, eyes opening to see the contented shine in his hazel eyes. "Don't tell me. It was because of me."
"I think it might be bub." His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, hand curving to cup your ass. "Guess you're my cure. Been lookin' for awhile."
"My bad Mr. Howlett," you breathed through a soft laugh that clenched around his chest. "I didn't mean to take so long, but you were kind of in a different universe."
"Technicalities."
"Yeah right! Technicalities my ass."
He dragged you across his lap with a muffled groan he pressed to your chest. "Could’ve found me all on your own honey. You just weren't looking properly."
The high gasp that filled the air left him with a gratification worse than his satiated hunger. He longed to devour you with a need that felt primal. As if the animalistic side of his body craved the taste of you spread along his tongue. You were the answer to every fuckin' prayer he sent out. The embodiment of what his heart had been missing.
"You're right." Your words were shaky, eyes growing dark with lust when you felt his cock press against your slick folds. "I'll do better next time."
He growled, low and desperate; his hands now clamping down on your hips until pain flickered beneath the surface of your already tender skin. "There'll be no fuckin' next time."
"No?" The grin on your lips made him leak against your thigh. "I'm sure there's more than one James Howlett in the infinite number of universes. And who knows, you might not be enough to satisfy my insatiable needs."
Rolling to his back, he took you with him, even as you yelped in an attempt to pull away. You were trapped against his body with no chance of escape, yet running from him was never a choice. This was your safe place. Against his body that offered warmth and solace—a promise of more wrapped in a gentle touch and heated kiss.
He tugged you up his body, smacking your ass as you climbed to sit on his chest with a breathless smile. The sight alone made Logan's heart stutter. His eyes wide with awe—a semblance of adoration that existed solely for you.
"Insatiable huh," he mumbled against your thigh. "Alright honey. C'mere then."
"For what?"
His thumbs indented the skin of your hip, a smile curving over his lips. "I haven't had my breakfast yet."
The realization dawned on you slowly. Your eyes widened, scent growing heavy in the air, and Logan longed to stay here for the rest of his life. Beneath the weight of your body on his—the comfort of your hands cupping his face. Your slick pooled on his chest; a sign that you were in fact interested.
"A-Are you sure?" you breathed.
His teeth sunk into your wrist gently, causing you to jolt. "Fair's fair baby."
Your own words caused heat to spill beneath your skin; you shifted—eyes wanton for what was about to come. "Touché."
Shifting up higher with a hesitancy that turned his mind feral, you situated yourself close to his mouth—barely hovering over his face. With a growl, he looped his arms around your thighs and yanked you down. His mouth sealing over your dripping cunt with a moan of satisfaction. The cry that fell from your lips made his cock twitch against his stomach; the heady tang of you exactly what he longed for.
He was messy with it. Devouring you with abandon, tongue slipping through your folds with little grunts that sent sparks down your spine. When he sucked your clit into his mouth you were done for.
"Oh fuck Logan-" The breath caught in your throat, head tipping back with each swipe of his tongue along the pulsating nerve.
Without realizing it, your hips began to drag along his mouth, chasing the quick building release that threatened to drag you under. He growled—fingers a bruising grip on your skin—with each swivel of your hips. High pitched moans echoed in the room loud enough to resonate through the whole of your apartment.
"Please-" Logan watched—eyes drooped and a red flush across his cheeks—as your body curved towards him, your hand gripping the top of your headboard. "'M gonna. Fuck, fuck, fuck-"
His tongue plunged into you, thumb snaking around to rub harshly against your clit. The long drawn out moan he mumbled into your cunt is what finally broke you. Ripping the release from the base of your spine as you cried out—your hips nearly suffocating him with how you pressed down on his tongue.
Aching for whatever he had left to give you.
Logan drank you down with stunted moan, his cock leaking into the trail of hair on his stomach. But he couldn't fucking care about that. Not when you were gifting him with a nectar that would put the gods ichor to shame.
"Oh...baby," you murmured, eyes staring at the way his cock jumped each time his tongue slid against you.
Before he could turn you away—explain that he was okay and push it off as a natural reaction to you—your hand was wrapping around him. The wet slide of his precum now enough to fuck into your fist with ease. He'd allow you to touch him for a few minutes before deterring you the kitchen. Give you a fill of what need still remained.
He was perfectly okay with finishing himself off.
What he didn't expect was your thumb to settle between his balls, rubbing at a spot that made him see white. A broken feral sound echoed against your inner thigh—his teeth clamping into the skin—as he came across your hand. Spilling down onto his stomach and hitting his chest with a withered shout.
You rolled off him, panting and covered in a sheen of sweat. Logan could barely feel his fucking legs.
"The fuck was that?" he rasped, eyes cracking open to blearily see your prideful smile—teeth digging into your bottom lip while you eyed the mess on his torso.
"How'd it feel?"
"Like my fuckin' body isn't workin'."
You giggled, soft and sweet. A stark contrast to the way you made him cum fast enough to put a hole in his heart. He'd never gotten off so quickly. Yet there you sat, leaning against your pillows, and staring at him as if he'd hung all the stars in your night sky.
He very well would have if you asked.
"I can cook this morning," you offered, snuggling back against his side with a contented sigh.
"Just give me a minute honey and I'll get us food."
"You don't have to cook."
He silenced you with a kiss, your body melting into the mattress at the taste of you on his tongue. "Rosemary's. They still sell breakfast?" When you nodded he planted a kiss on your forehead. "Alright. Soon as the feeling in my legs returns I'll get us some food."
"Okay," you laughed with a kiss to his shoulder. "I like the sound of that."
The television blared loud enough to bounce off the neighbors walls. A loud and rather obnoxious theme song for a reality show. A steady stream of muttered cuss words overlapped the music as another piece of wood clattered to the floor. The screws with it scattered on the shitty coffee table found in the back alley of the building.
"Ugh. Don't hand over the rose!" Wade shouted, throwing a handful of popcorn at the screen. "Clearly they don't belong together. For fucks sake. I swear the bachelorette always settles."
Althea sighed, fingers sliding along the wood in search of a single screw that might be near. "I thought you said you wanted to help me with this."
"I am!" he mumbled through a mouthful of popcorn. "Moral support. You're doing great, just a little more to the left. Almooooost got it-"
She grumbled snatching up the silver piece, locating the wood by her feet. "Next time I'm evicting your ass so you can find someone else to annoy."
"Hurtful. Who else would provide you quality entertainment better than moi?"
"A rock."
"Wrong." He shoveled another handful in his mouth. "I've worked with the man. Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson is not as funny as he might appear. And starring in Fast Five doesn't count." His eyes flicker to the side, smile forming around his swollen cheeks. "To be honest I couldn't tell who was who between three bald men. Clearly that franchise has a type."
"Clearly I need a better system."
"Well of course you do. The shelf is upside down. No, the other way. No. The other way-"
A blinding flash of blue light burned through the living room, searing a hole in the hardwood floor. Wade clambered to his feet, gripping the ceramic bowl with white knuckles. His heart hammered in his chest, mouth dry as he scanned the room for some form of defense.
The closest weapon remained his katanas, propped against the door frame leading to his bedroom. He glanced at them—calculating whether to leap now or wait.
A whip ignited in blue sparks flew from the gaping hole in the air, striking his body and forcing him into the air. He hit the wall with a grunt; the bowl now severed in two on the floor.
"What the fuck!" he groaned, stumbling to his feet. "Al! You okay?"
"Who did you piss off this time?" Althea called, gripping her cane as he staggered towards her, leading her to the bedroom.
"Some fucking Asgardian apparently." A quick glance back revealed someone stepping through—their body encased in ripples of sapphire. "God where's Thor when you need him?"
The bedroom door slammed shut, Althea locking herself in as Wade yanked the katanas from their sheaths. He half expected to see the face of a pissed god coming to enact revenge. He felt his body tense as he prepared for a fight. Only for a hood of blue and gold to be pulled back; your face staring directly at him with milky eyes of white.
"You're not Asgardian."
A sneer crossed other you's face as the whip snapped against the floor, rippling in the space around him. He felt it tug along his body, aging his face with spots that wouldn't show up for decades to come. They healed as you pulled the weapong back; the blue wrapping its way up your arm.
"Where is he?" Your voice bled with a bitterness that punched his stomach. An anger he once felt before.
Whoever stood before him now was not the sweet angel he knew. The scarred skin along your body explained enough of what he needed to know. This was a sign of who you once belonged to. Who the humans hunted. The embodiment of time had become their prey, their plaything. You were the lamb given up for slaughter; the lover scorned and tossed to the side by a man who ran to a different universe.
"Mind giving me a name?" Wade knew who you were asking for. But he also knew Logan lay across the street wrapped in the arms of a you who couldn't protect him.
Your eyes narrowed, the flicker of blue flashing in what used to be the iris of your pupil. "I believe you know him as Wolverine. However...I knew him as Logan."
"Right." He gripped the handle of his swords with cold palms—his eyes flicking to the side where his window was pulled wide open. "Have you tried the yellow pages?"
A scream tore from your throat as you charged—whip sliding across the floor to wrap around Wade's legs. He rolled to the side, katana cracking through the floor to steady his movements. He cursed under his breath at the sight of the burn marks that now spread all the way up to his ceiling—the flicker of your whip lifting in air again.
"Listen you Wonder Woman wannabe. I'm sure we can talk this out rather than fucking me in the ass with the deposit of my apartment!"
Your lips curled into a grin—teeth flashing white. Wade could practically feel them dig into his jugular; all too prepared to rip it from his neck if given the chance. This wasn't a battle to see who could make it out alive. This was a warriors death.
This was you being merciful.
"We had a Deadpool like you on my Earth." He tried to dodge the slice of your whip, but felt it clamp down on his arms, yanking them forward as your hand cupped his chin—nails plunging into his cheeks until blood sprouted to the surface. "Annoying. Less than average IQ. I had such fun sending him to the Void."
The dull throb of pain bit at his face the harder you clutched him. Eyes still a flash of sapphire on an otherwise empty pale eyeball. In the picture Logan showed him, this wasn't how you looked.
The scar that ran from your forehead to chin seemed new—barely healed over. You were nothing like how Logan described you. No light in your smile, no hint of hope or joy.
Whatever happened left you buried so deep in grief and pain there was no chance of digging you out.
"On behalf of my people...fair. We aren't intelligent collectively as a group. Individually we're probably...not better. But as Deadpool Prime-"
"Fuck you're even more annoying than your variants," you growled.
The whip looped around his body, growing with heat as blue flickered in his vision—pulling tight each time you wrapped it around your wrist. His wince of pain brought the malevolent smile back to your lips. Your milky white eyes flashing as you watched him intently. Waiting for a sliver of anguish to cross his scarred face.
Instead his body twitched, a groan ripping from his throat. "Is this the lasso of truth?"
You sneered. "It's a slice of time."
"Because yes, I did steal Captain American themed condoms from the gift shop at the Smithsonian. I thought they would make me fuck like Steve Rogers. But instead they just gave me a rash-" His words devolved into a piercing scream—the once bright hue of his eyes now fading the more his body aged.
The katanas clattered to the floor as you drew him closer, wrapping the whip around his arms tight enough to slice off his blood flow. He struggled—face red and teeth bared—to rip himself free. To stop the aging of his body before it was too late.
He'd endured pain before. The travesty of each wound his body would heal over still burned bright in his mind. But this felt as if he was being crushed under the weight of the universe. The strangled scream you pulled from his chest left him sagging against the hold your whip had on his limbs. Eyes bleary with tears as you stepped back and pulled.
Limbs tore from his body, blood pooling on the floor, as his arms were flung across the room. Blue fizzled in his vision, body struggling to stand upright. And you turned with a flourish—the flutter of energy pouring out into the room around you.
"I'm not going to ask again Wade Wilson."
He weakly laughed. "Look Doc Brown I can't help you with your revenge plan."
The tilt of your head shouldn't have looked so innocent. But all he could see—all that ran through his mind—was a version of you that remained loving. Hopeful. The variant who gave Logan a reason to live. Wade wasn't about to let that slip through either of their fingers; you were too vital to give up.
Even if it meant he might never heal from the one wound that threatened to shove him directly into Death's hands.
Time.
It remained his greatest enemy. Yet there he stood, facing it with a smile.
"Pity." You snapped the whip on the floor, advancing on his broken form with a grin. "Send my regards to your fallen variants."
"If I find a way to come back from this. Expect me to fuck your ass up." He sighed, shutting his eyes. "That sounded wrong. Do I get a do-over on last words?"
He stiffened, waiting for the blow that would be delivered without mercy. But you stopped. Froze in place as you looked out the window—body stiff and breath caught in your chest at the sight. Wade's heart dropped when he turned, staring directly at the you he knew. The lovely angel who stood near the window wearing Logan's flannel, a mug of steaming coffee in your hand and a smile on her face.
"Fuck," he spit, moving to step in and block your view.
No words were spoken, but Wade could feel the anger fall from your body in waves. A rage that made him sick to his stomach. Not only did you arrive in search of your lost lover. But a mirror image of a healthier—a happier—version of yourself stood in an apartment across the street.
"Wait. She didn't do anything wrong. She doesn't know anything-"
Your hand flew up, a flash of azure blinded him—filling the room—and Wade felt time stop. He could hear the silence, the step of your feet, yet couldn't move his body as you lifted off the floor. Floating towards the window, you felt the particles of time slip through your fingers. Forming a bubble around your form as you broke the wall of the apartment with a slice of your whip.
The agony wasn't unknown to you as time froze; the people of New York stuck in their spots while you remained in the realm you knew well. Yet this pain—this never ending grief—formed like a pit in your stomach, growing the longer you stared at the person who stole your life. The false version that wore your face, loved the man you once claimed as your own.
You were plunged back into the frozen depths of that night. When your family was torn from your life and Logan left you in shambles.
The window shattered, glass stuck in place until you pushed past it, your feet setting down on the floor of an apartment that smelled eerily like cigar smoke. Logan's flannel hung off your variant's body with such ease. Memories of mornings spent like this, indulging in coffee he made as he went off to teach, left a bitter taste on the back of your tongue.
How dare he discard you to the side.
How dare he love you in another universe when you still lived.
How dare he replace you with a new version, not yet broken by his mistakes.
The tears flowed down your cheeks, hot and unforgiving. Yet you could do nothing but watch as the smile on your variant's face burned bright in the room. He made this version of you happy. Yet couldn't be bothered to remember the mutant you. The one who longed for his touch, for his love.
For his forgiveness.
"He loves you," you murmured, gently touching your variant's cheek. "He loved me once."
Time flickered, a mere second being allowed to pass. But that remained enough. Your variant's eyes flicked up, shock forming in the iris at the sight of a battered and destroyed mirror image stand before you. If the iris of your eyes could be shown, the sorrow would bring the both of you to your knees. The anger that dripped into your heart with a vengeance.
Death didn't seem a kind enough gesture for the version of you that got to live her happily ever after.
You wanted Logan to keep her. To try and save her from the depths of your soon to be shared darkness.
The mark on your neck burned as you stared at the spotless skin. Free from the horrors. Free from a past you'd never endure.
You were perfect.
It made bile crawl up the back of your throat. The fear in your variant's eyes filled your stomach with a satisfaction that you clung to. The first glimpse of dopamine after years of fighting the darkness in your own mind.
Your nails scratched along the skin of your variant's cheeks. Digging into the flesh with a smile.
"Don't worry," you murmured, allowing the shackles you held on time to fall away. The gasp ripped from your variant's mouth as you gripped her. It swirled with joy in your heart. "We'll both make him regret his choice."
The apartment greeted him with a sickening echo of silence. He dropped your key into the bowl by your door, the bag of food still clutched tightly in his hand, as he allowed his claws to slide free on the other. His breath stuck to his chest, the hair on the back of his neck rose with each step he took. Something was wrong. Yet for the life of him...he couldn't find an explanation.
Your scent was stale. An hour old.
Where he expected to find the sweet echo of your heartbeat somewhere in the apartment; he was met with the chilling realization that you weren't here.
"Honey," he called, his voice lower than intended. "You here baby?"
Logan's heart ached when he was met with a response of nothing. Merely air that didn't carry the sound of your voice, nor the scent he'd grown accustomed to. What was he supposed to do when the emptiness was all the world offered? When the echo of his nightmares suddenly bled into reality.
He set the food on your kitchen table, yanking his phone out of his jacket pocket he slammed his finger on your number. The only one programmed into the damn thing. The incessant ring suddenly never sounded so threatening. So malevolent as he waited with baited breath for your voice to filter through the other line. Loud and clear without a single thing to fear.
When the shrill buzz of your own phone came from the bedroom, Logan felt the familiar cold drip of fear begin to slip down his spine. He struggled to maintain his breathing as he walked towards the room. His claws out—ready to attack at whatever came near him.
The empty bedroom—sheets in a laundry basket and comforter a tangle on the bed from this morning—felt like an icy pick in his chest. You weren't here. And Logan knew there had to be a logical explanation as to why this was.
You left for a reason.
You wouldn't simply offer up silence on a silver platter and expect him to take it with a smile.
You weren't that type of person.
Yet no matter how long he wracked his brain, he couldn't come up with a valid reason as to where you might be. Expecting to see you through the window at Wade's place, Logan rushed to the frame. Only to feel the crunch of glass beneath his feet—the panes shattered and crushed on the floor. Your favorite coffee mug severed in pieces beside it.
"No," he breathed, eyes wide and hand plagued with a tremor of fear as he knelt to grip the porcelain shards.
The terror he fought against for so long slammed into his body with a roar. It forced him to look. To see the truth that he could no longer deny. You didn't leave. You weren't gone of your own volition.
You...weren't safe.
"Fuck," he spit, shutting his eyes as the sting of tears began to prick behind his eyelids. "No. No. No."
"How touching."
The sound of your voice made him whip around, eyes wide and heart racing as he prepared himself to apologize for whatever made you leave. But the face that came into his sight wasn't the you of this universe. Pain sliced his gut as the version of you he couldn't save—the woman he would once die for—smiled at him.
"Fortuna," he said in a breath, eyes trailing down your figure encased in ripples of blue. Your eyes were white—devoid of any emotion. Yet he could feel your bitterness; the hatred that still existed from that night.
Your lips formed a pout, boots echoing against the hardwood floor like bullets firing from a gun. "What? No more honey?"
He flinched when your hand came up to cup his cheek. "What are you-"
"Doing here?" You smiled, blue flashing in the iris of your eyes. Logan felt his body sway with grief—the emotions he swallowed for years now hitting him with a force he never thought possible. "Why...I'm here for you baby."
"Fortuna-"
"Don't call me that." You gripped his chin, dragging him down to face you. "That name never used to leave your lips before. Why now?"
"Where is she?" he bit out, claws begging to take a slice out of your body.
Your voice was filled with mirth. Logan had never heard you this way.
So...deranged. Unhinged.
Whatever happened after you left had pushed you past the edge of what sanity still remained. The brink you toed even when you were together. He could see it in the scars that littered your arms, the long mark along your face. You weren't the woman he once loved. You weren't even the same fucking person.
His eyes trailed further, down to the collar of your suit, until he latched onto the scar that nearly had him staggering away to vomit. Burned onto your skin was a mark to represent who you'd been at one point. Who you would forever remain. The X, a stitched over wound that didn't have the proper time to heal.
The humans broke you. They destroyed the woman he once knew.
Logan felt anger burn in his heart at the realization.
"You mean my replacement?" you spit, shoving him away. "And here I thought you were still nursing your wounds in some fucking bar Logan." The whip twined around your waist sparked to life. "Forgive me for believing you cared."
"You're insane." He stumbled back at the first lick of your power stretching to touch him. "Charles warned you about what your powers would evolve into. He begged you not to go down this path."
Laughter pierced his eardrums—the fury biting at his heart as you cupped his cheeks and shoved your face into his. "Do you know who else begged Logan? Jean. Storm, Scott, Rogue, Bobby-"
He ripped himself away. "Shut the fuck up!"
"They screamed for you Logan!" Time began to slow, slip through his body and tear at the flesh that never aged. "They begged me to help them, to stop their attackers. And what could I do? When I was stuck in the future! But you. You could have saved them. You fucking worthless bastard!"
Blue filled his vision, his body sagging against your hold, as you ripped at his mutant gene with a ferocity that left him beyond saving. This was your last play. The final card you never intended to show him.
"Please-" he gasped, refusing to fight back.
How could he? When his heart still called your name, no matter the universe.
You were his. The person who held every piece of his heart to kill on a whim if you so wished it. The woman who he'd die beside.
He just never thought it would be your mutant variant. He never expected you would be the one to deliver that final blow.
Air filled his lungs when you pulled away. His body healing instantly—the spots of age now fading along his paled skin. Whatever you had planned, it wasn't going to start with his death. Logan knew you better than you knew yourself; a fact you seemed to have forgotten.
You may have been kind—loving once. But final grand shows of vengeance were your ploy. No matter the situation...you wouldn't give away the ending even if he begged.
He fell to his knees, gasping for breath. "Where is she? I-I'll...do anything-"
"You love her," you murmured, regarding him with an expression of pity.
"Yes."
"What a shame."
His head rose, eyes wide as time began to slow. "Fortuna-"
"I'll give her your regards Logan." Your lips pressed to his cheek, breath a familiar warm caress against his skin. He felt his heart shatter.
"Fortuna!"
Staggering to his feet—his heart trapped in his throat—he felt time stop. And any hope he held in his heart...ceased to exist.
The crack of wood jolted you from the darkness you were trapped in. Fear trailed up your spine, wrapping around your heart tight enough to blister in searing pain. Your wrists and ankles were bound, body attached to a chair, and you blinked through the haze to see an empty abandoned room. The cold air stung the bare skin of your thighs as you sat there encased in only Logan's flannel—your skin raw from the rope.
Broken furniture was scattered through the room. A couch stripped of its fabric, walls with torn wallpaper, and you leaning against the wall your head cocked with intrigue.
"W-Who are you?" you stumbled over your words, shivering from the cold.
The echo of boots made the hair rise on the back of your neck, your eyes going wide at the sight of blue spilling off this person's frame. There was no need for her to answer. No response to give, because you knew who stood before you. She wore your face. Spoke in your voice and emanated a power you'd only seen once before.
"Logan once called me honey once," she murmured, milky eyes flashing blue. "He calls you that doesn't he?"
You nodded, shuddering as she dropped to squat in front of you, hands braced on the arms of the air. She didn't regard you with anger like before. Though it still lingered beneath the surface, she watched you as if you were someone to learn from. Someone to figure out.
"Why am I here?" you whispered, voice hoarse.
"Pathetic he would choose to love your kind. After what they did.” Fear struck your chest at the malice in her words, the wrath that now faced you head on. “You can call me Fortuna," she murmured, finger stroking down the side of your face. The place where no scar rested—no mark of torture that echoed from a past she couldn't escape.
"Please." The sting of hot tears burned your eyes. "I don't know what I did-"
A bark of laughter ripped from her throat. "Oh sweetie. You didn't do anything." She stood, loosening the whip from her body. "You're merely collateral damage. No need to take it so personal."
"Collateral-" You gasped as the whip flicked forward, wrapping around your waist. "Wait! Y-You're the woman Logan loved. He told me about you."
The smile that curved her lips forced nausea to the surface of your stomach. "Yes I suppose he would. So guilt ridden by what he couldn't do."
"It's not his fault."
Another laugh had tears slipping down your cheeks. "Did he tell you that?"
"He didn't have to. The humans were the ones to kill your family. Not him."
The whip tightened around your body, pain slicing at your skin. "Oh I'm very well aware of what the humans are capable of."
Scars littered her skin, some larger than others, and suddenly you understood what happened. What she meant by it all. Logan couldn't save her. He wasn't able to keep her from the human's harm. Because he decided to wallow in his own grief than share in hers.
Fortuna had become Logan's worst nightmare. His walking shame that continued to haunt him even in this universe. No wonder he felt so afraid of what might happen the longer he remained with you.
"Do you know this place?" She glanced at the room—the staircase that was tucked away in the corner that led to a second story. "An old farmhouse near the mansion. Abandoned here, but not where I'm from."
"It's..."
"Ours."
Your heart dropped, tears spilling over faster than you could stop them. "Oh..."
"He didn't mention that part did he human?" She stepped closer, leaning over your cowering form with a smile that you felt tear at your heart. "We were going to live here together. You see...I have the one thing you will never be able to give him." Her hand cupped your cheek, wiping at the tears with rough strokes. "I will never die."
You shook your head. "He doesn't-"
"Care?" She clicked her tongue, disappointment flooding her features. "He'll say that now human. But what happens when you're sixty? Seventy? What happens when you outlive the Wolverine? What will he do then?"
"The Logan I know wouldn't leave me because of time."
"I am time," she snapped, gripping your chin. "I have lived as long as he has. I will continue to live even longer. Time means nothing when you are the physical embodiment of it."
"No-"
Wrapping the whip around her clenched fist, she pulled until the power began to split through your nerves. A sob broke past your cracked lips, pain burning through your body, lighting you with a fire only she could put out. She watched with a smile, her power flickering to life as the years began to seep from your body.
Second by second.
Minute by minute.
She stole what little time you could have held with Logan. What might have existed now began to bleed into the air as her whip cut into your skin. The crimson stain of blood seeped into Logan's brown flannel shirt, staining the fabric permanently. A scream tore from your throat—eyes squeezing shut as you tried to block out the sensation that intended to ingrain itself in your mind.
"You are nothing but a replacement." She yanked another inch of the whip closer to her chest—blood pooling beneath the chair and seeping into the wood.
"PLEASE!" you screamed, body wracked with tremors that weren't there before. White began to seep into your hair, streaking down to the base in a long strip—staining you with an age you might never reach. "Please! I-I'll do anything."
She tutted under her breath, her face now at your eye level. "That's where you're wrong. You can't do anything that hasn't already been done honey."
Tears blurred your vision. "W-What?"
"He wouldn't save me." Silence echoed in the still air of the room. The pain slowed to a dull ache as you slumped forward. "So I'm going to make sure he can't save you."
"N-No-"
"Like I said...collateral damage."
Your scream pierced the air like a knife, shattering what peace might have remained, as time began to form around Fortuna. Permanently altering the future that once shone with a light by plunging it into a darkness with no escape. And you were trapped in the center. Unable to claw your way free, to break from the one thing no one could run from.
A hell of time’s own making.
note: i am sorry. we will have a happy ending. just not yet.
#logan howlett x f!reader#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x y/n#logan howlett#logan howlett smut#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#my writing
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mpreg (does that count as a kink?? im counting it) and sargebon bc its all ive been thinking abt lately but i cant express it well enough to write it and i know you will do it justice
mpreg and/or breeding is a popular request today ... and i am not complaining :)
sargebon mpreg smut (kind of?) read at ur own risk, u have been warned
The first press of Alex's cock into Logan's hole is unbelievable; they've done this countless times before, but knowing it's different this time is... overwhelming.
Logan had pulled him aside a few months ago, slid his left hand into Alex's right, and the cold metal of his wedding ring against Alex's fingers where they were laced together was dizzying; it still is, honestly.
It still feels like a dream to think about– the fact that they're married and living together in a ritzy flat in Monaco. They're officially an item, no longer just a couple, a pair of adults who don't know what they're doing, teammates.
And as he was stuck in an emotional haze, caught up in the touchy feelings of having a husband, Logan had asked about having kids, and Alex suddenly felt like he was back in F1, taking an ice bath in a silly inflatable pool, practically naked in front of four different cameras. Completely and utterly out of his depth.
They had a conversation about it– numerous conversations, actually, long ones about the logistics, the realities and fantasies of it all, before eventually coming to a mutual conclusion.
And now here they are, tender bodies tucked against each other, filling the gaps and missing places of the other person, skin touching skin as the sun sets out the window.
Although, it is overcast out, so the sunset isn't anything special, but it feels like... like Alex knows they don't need it for this to be significant, that this is special all on its own even if the sky outside is an ugly color.
The warmth of Logan's hole is suffocating without a condom; Alex almost feels like he can't move or else he might hurt himself, that he might pull out and find the head of his cock charred and burnt.
"Alex- move," Logan gasps out, wrapping his legs around Alex's torso and fucking himself back on his cock.
It works, and Alex is pulling out and thrusting back in like it's his first time ever doing it; the movement is choppy, and it punches a groan from his chest, something that steals all his breath and leaves him heaving.
Logan isn't any better off; he's breathing just as heavily, and his fingers are digging into Alex's shoulders like he thinks he might disappear, leaving behind an crescent indentation of his fingernails.
"You okay down there?" Alex huffs, the end of his sentence swerving off into a breathless chuckle as he rests his forehead against Logan's, and the smile he gets in return is something he wishes he could tattoo on his brain for the rest of his life.
Because it's absolutely beaming, full of teeth, and lazy, and it's the most relaxed Logan has looked in years.
"More than. How couldn't I be when you're about to knock me up?" Logan says, still smiling with ease.
And he says it so naturally and it feels like a punch to the gut; the realization that Logan is made for this, made to be with Alex, made to be his, made to be pregnant and a mother and its all so overwhelming.
Alex has to tuck his face into Logan's neck because he feels like if he looks into his eyes any longer he might burst into flames, or maybe say something stupid and ridiculous that would definitely kill the mood immediately.
Instead, he steels himself, hikes Logan's legs up higher against his hips and then plants his arms on either side of his head.
"Are you ready?" Alex asks breathlessly, drunk on joy and a brand new feeling blooming in his chest, something he's never felt before.
And Logan just looks up at him, the skin around his eyes crinkled in the way that he loves oh so much, and the expression on his face tells Alex everything he needs to know.
this prompt completely ran away from me I'm so sorry if this isn't what u were looking for anon😭😭
#married sargebon mpreg sex (barely) uhhhh#idk what happened guys ....#mayb im manifesting ok#alex albon#logan sargeant#sargebon#lolex#progan#im putting the progan tag on this yeah#once again this is BRAVE to be putting in main tags#but fuck it we ball#my work#asks
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Day Twelve: Overworked
Characters: Logan Walker
Word Count: 1062
Warnings: Mild head injury
Notes: Sorry this update is late. This past week was very busy and emotional, and shenanigans were at an all time high. So it's been hard to find time to write (and to write well for that matter). I still hope you enjoy today's piece, even if it's a nothing burger. As always, this is also posted on AO3 and you can find my list here.
Logan was arguably much different from his family, namely his father and older brother. It wasn’t only resemblance and personality that made him stand out from them, but it was his endurance and the way he operated as a soldier. If anyone saw the three of them fighting together, they wouldn’t be able to tell that Logan was at all related to them. He wasn’t considered weak in the slightest, but he found that he did need to push himself significantly harder than most, especially to match the speed, strength, and leadership of his brother and father. He didn’t need to push past his best all the time, but he wanted to so that his teammates, and more importantly his family, could observe that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree after all. Up until recently, Logan was able to manage the consequences from his self exertive behavior, even on unexpected days where his higher ups would surprise him and his teammates with an unplanned exercise.
In today’s case, it was a hike. A simple trail that he’s trekked many times with his brother, father, and teammates. Though it was admittedly more tasking this time around due to his previous exercises early that week, where he pushed himself as much as he could or squeezed in a workout with the free time he had left during the day. His knees ached and his legs trembled with exhaustion, and at this point, he was certain the weight from his pack would break his spine. There would be another brief uphill climb, but after that he’d be in the home stretch of their truck, where they’d be regrouping with their other teammates in training. Hesh was undoubtedly already waiting for him and everyone else.
Logan winced as he put pressure down on what seemed to be a stable enough rock in the ground, but the moment he lifted his other leg to step forward, the rock beneath him came loose, causing him to slip and immediately meet the dirt-covered ground. He grunted out wearily and painfully, but he took this moment to just lay there, feeling every muscle in his body grow so heavy that it took a significant effort to just move his fingers. His head pounded slightly, Logan coming to the realization that he may have hit his head on the way down. Regardless, he needed to get up…
Yet he couldn’t.
He needed to move, yet his body wouldn’t obey.
On top of the panic and desperation, there was a simple desire to just rest. He could hear his teammates calling for him to get up, some expressing concern when they saw that Logan wasn’t moving at all. He could hear everything and everyone as his eyelids grew heavy with exhaustion. Soon enough, his mind began to drift away in a sea of unconscious pain. The next time he was able to open his eyes, he wasn’t slumped against the uphill climb of the hiking path, laying face down. Instead, Logan found himself lying on his back, flinching away slightly and groaning as a light shined in his eyes.
“Hey, sergeant,” The medic greeted, “It’s Walker, right?”
Logan didn’t respond initially, his head ringing and throbbing. He opted to close his eyes for a minute in an attempt to dull out the pain and the faint silhouette from the light.
“Sergeant Walker, do you know where you are right now?”
He opened his mouth to respond, only to remain silent and scrunch his eyes up in thought. He was no longer on the hiking trail, so… No, he didn’t know where he was, not now anyway.
“Do you know what day it is…? Sergeant Walker?”
“No…” He finally mumbled out, “Fuck… What happened?”
“According to your teammates, you slipped and passed out right in front of them,” The medic explained, “I’m guessing maybe you’re a bit concussed as well… Are you feeling pain or weakness anywhere else?”
Logan did a quick scan of himself. Apart from his head, he wasn’t experiencing any abnormal pains. But he felt weak from exhaustion as he struggled to move and adjust himself on the cot he was laying on. When the medic noticed, he went to assist the sergeant in sitting up.
“No… Just really fucking tired now…” Logan answered.
“Mm hmm…” He mumbled, pondering to himself before asking, “Have you been feeling anything different these past few days, or anything worrying prior to today?”
“No, doc… Nothing worrying health-wise. I just think I may have pushed myself a bit too much this time…”
“You mean you might have been exerting yourself on the hike…?”
Logan nodded.
“And is this something you do often? Push yourself past your limits?”
“Been at it for a while now… This is really the first time I passed out from it.”
As soon as the medic processed that information, he nodded, “Well, I would advise that maybe stick to your limits for a while, especially with your concussion.”
Logan dipped his head, attempting to hide his disappointment, but not hiding it well enough as the medic added, “I have no issues with wanting to push yourself for improvement, sergeant. But you can’t neglect yourself either. If you keep exerting yourself like you did this week, you’ll either be caught in a cycle of passing out from exhaustion every time, or you won’t live to see the rest of your career.”
Logan was silent. This wasn’t the first time he’s been told to slow down, but even when he did, everyone always seemed to notice. They would point out how slow he was on a run, how he took his time on an obstacle course, and somehow, those comments always hit the hardest when they came from Hesh or his father. He was slow. He was weak. He’d still be loved as a son and brother, but forsaken as a soldier.
To the medic’s point, what good would he be if he pushed himself to cardiac arrest in every training exercise and drill? He probably wouldn’t live to fight alongside his family in action at this rate. Logan pondered through these concussed-induced thoughts, sighing through his nose frustratingly. This would set him back and slow him down, but he could live through those temporary criticisms at least if it meant staying on this team.
Logan finally nodded, “Understood, doc…”
#call of duty#call of duty ghosts#cod#cod ghosts#cod logan#logan walker#love and broken bones#l&bb#whumptober
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I just counted the amount of words I've written in about 13 months
And holy shit.
Finished: 95 416 words Currently WIPing: 202 243 words Total: 297 659 words
This isn't taking into account:
the RPs I might have done to help other writers out of their writing slumps
the small scenes and drabbles I might have written here and there for specific occasions
For anybody who needs to hear it: you will find your spark again, I promise you. I did.
In 2015, I was hit with a writing slump that lasted until August 2023, so 8 years.
During that slump, I would barely reach 3 000 words in 1 year, if I was lucky, and it would be tiny pieces of writing here and there.
This word count is about 100 times more than that, in 1 year.
I am baffled by this, and am so happy to see this.
The Good Omens fandom literally saved my creativity, and whatever happens in the future, this fact will remain.
Where I "started" in August 2023:
And He Fell (Good Omens)
The spear pushed through his wings and into his body a few seconds later, and he saw Gabriel walk past him, the records firmly in his hands. No spear, which he knew was still held by someone. The weight of his fate pushed him against his little angel, holding onto his arms as he crumbled at his feet, his head sliding down his torso as Aziraphale let go of the spear. His eyes… they were still warm. Full of pity. “Good job, angel. It was lovely getting to know you, and may we meet again on a better occasion,” he whispered with the last angelic breath he could draw. He felt the pain of each feather of his wings corrupting and falling, the agony of his cells rebuilding themselves entirely. His vision fogged as his eyes lost the Light, his legs, sprawled on the ground, felt excruciating torture as scales appeared all over them. But not a cry came from him. He looked at Aziraphale, gave him a weak smile, as his ears retracted and his arms rotted away. Aziraphale, the kindest soul to exist, did not retract, did not cower in disgust. He watched him, with pity, as the ground itself gave way under him and the hands of the Darkness grabbed him by the bust, dragging him into Hell. Tormenting path, as he had no hands left to catch his tears, no functional mouth left to scream, no legs left to run to him. Only one promise remained. I will crawl out of this pit, and I will damn you all, and I will drag you all to Hell.
Hissing and growling for the next millennium, shuffling his long and fine body on the ground, his heart never ceased to ache, even as his memories of the better times were fading away, leaving place to an undying hatred of Heaven and of their Great Plans.
Crawley was the name bestowed upon him.
Where I am now:
Warzone, my latest WIP - first chapter here, excerpt is from a chapter I am still working on (Deadpool and Wolverine)
“That’s it,” Logan said in a breath.
Wade nodded, placing his hands back into the bucket and hissing from the cold biting at his nerves. He came back to pressing his knuckles into Logan’s spine, just a little higher, until another snap was heard.
He kept going, slowly and methodically, pressing his hands, rolling his palms and fingers into the crooks of Logan’s body, feeling with each of his movements that the muscular back was relaxing under him. It made the pain of the frostbite slowly taking his fingers bearable; in fact, it made him feel warmer, from his chest to his stomach, like a warm blanket had been wrapped around him. That was an odd feeling, which he compartmentalized into a neat, small, locked folder of his mind that he had kindly labeled ‘Feelings I can’t deal with right now.’
Yes, of course he knew how he felt about Logan. Wade might be God’s perfect idiot, but he was no fool, and if anybody should know about idiotic feelings and unwarranted hopes for love, damn, he was a desperate bitch craving for attention—he was perfectly aware of the fact that what he felt wasn’t just the effect of blood rushing out of his brain after too bold and horny of a flirt. No, that was different. One author or the other might even tag it pining. And this, dear readers, wasn’t something he could deal with right away, not with Logan, not when he was in pain, and certainly not while straddling him in the middle of Al’s living room. Even if Logan did make crazy noises as he touched him and released him for a bit, even if he did not seem to reject him when he was being forward. He would reject the idea of Wade being interested in him, it would seem, but he did respond beautifully to him, enough that the folder he was hiding those feelings into was beginning to grow very full, threatening to burst back open at any time.
And Wade really hoped it would happen at the right time. Or at least, because he knew the universe hated him enough to spite him every chance it got, not at the worst time.
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3: Who Was Right All Along
MITT Hub, <prev, next >
Welcome back! This is the last relatively light chapter (lol) before the real shit hits the fan and the whump I started this fic for begins. What ever could be happening to Logan in the time it takes for Virgil to find him? In other news, I’m considering whether or not to add enemies to friends/lovers to the overall tags. Anyway, enjoy!
Word Count: 1519
--
Virgil threaded his way through the more crowded streets, the sun rising higher in the sky as the day continued. He kept a careful eye on everyone around him as he followed Patton’s directions, but stopped upon seeing someone sitting off by themselves outside of the square.
The guy looked queasy, his face pale and body shaking a bit as he took small sips from a flask of water in his hands.
“You look pale there, you okay?” Virgil asked, pushing his hood back as he approached.
This guy has seen some shit. What the hell happened?
“Yeah, just… shaken up from something this morning.” The guy explained, brushing a hand back through his messy brown hair. He looked up at Virgil, offering him a drink. “…I’m Thomas.”
“Virgil.” Virgil hesitated a moment before taking it, sipping some water and passing it back. “So, Thomas, can you tell me what happened?”
“I had to get up early this morning to help pick up some deliveries for my mom. As I was heading through the town square, the Hanover twins stopped me. Real dicks, those guys, but you can’t exactly say no, you know?”
“Yeah. Keep going.” Virgil nodded, dread starting to creep into his mind as the twins were mentioned.
Why do I feel like I know where this is heading?
“Well, Prescott was bragging about some ritual thing that proved he was ‘worthy’.” Thomas was clearly uncomfortable, scratching at the back of his neck and staring down at the street. “All of a sudden this guy comes up to him and asks if he’s talking about this thing they do where they… murder… kids…” His voice waned and got quieter, Virgil’s eyes widening.
“What?”
He knew the family was crazy, but killing kids? That… seemed about right, actually.
Maybe Logan’s not so crazy after all.
“Worst thing is that neither of the twins denied it.” Thomas stared down at his hands, rubbing them together anxiously. “I felt sick after realizing that’s what he was talking about, so I got away from the conversation as fast as I could. Last I heard, Maxwell had run off to get their mother. I don’t know what happened after that.”
“...the guy who came up to them. What did he look like?”
“Uh… About my height, I guess? Sorta dark brown hair kinda swept out of his face, greenish eyes, glasses.” Thomas offered, Virgil sighing to himself as it all clicked into place.
“Let me guess, wearing a button up tucked into his slacks?”
“Yeah, how’d you know?”
“I know the guy.” Virgil admitted, Thomas nodding a bit to himself.
“Well, I hope he’s alright, then.”
“Yeah… We’ll see about that.” Virgil mumbled to himself, hoping Thomas couldn’t hear him. “You should be careful, though. Maybe take some time off.”
Thomas blinked, confused, but nodded nonetheless. “Okay. Thanks. For uh… listening. And the advice.”
“Yeah.” Virgil barely registered Thomas’ goodbye as he was too busy staring at the flash of plate armor from the nearby square. Stepping out of the street to get a better view, Virgil’s well-trained eyes narrowed in on the Hanover crest on the upper corner of the knight’s breastplate.
He took off through the crowd after putting his hood back up, expertly weaving unnoticed through the crowd to shadow the guard, waiting for him to head into an unoccupied street with one hand resting on the dagger concealed behind his back.
The moment the two were out of view Virgil threw an arm out, causing the knight to stumble back into the nearest wall as Virgil whirled around to pin him, using his other hand to draw his dagger and place the tip of the blade against his throat.
“You.” Virgil’s voice was low, the knight staring dumbfoundedly at him as his hands raised up towards his shoulders as best he could. “You work with them, don’t you?”
“Well now, I’m afraid I don’t know what—“
“Don’t lie. Besides, it was a rhetorical question.” Virgil cut him off by pressing the blade further into his skin, the first drop of blood starting to force its way out under the dagger. “I need to know if you were there this morning during the fight or not.”
“What ever could you be talking about?” The knight wheezed a little, trying to keep his breathing shallow so as to not cut himself further. It was mostly successful.
“Were you there this morning during the fight? Yes or no?” Virgil was losing his patience, the knight seeming to finally take notice of this as he sighed and gulped nervously.
“Well, I wasn’t there for the actual fight, I don't think. I was just posted outside the Hanover art gallery, so I was only involved after the guy ran.”
“Tall, brown hair, glasses?”
“What? Yeah, I guess.” The knight was confused, but still affirmed Virgil’s description. It’s not like he had many options. “We were ordered to catch him, so we did.”
“Shit, this is bad.” Virgil muttered to himself, glancing around a bit before glaring pointedly back up at him. “Where did you take him?”
“What?”
“It’s important!” Adjusting his grip on the dagger, Virgil huffed and got further up into the guy’s face. “Where the hell did you take him?”
“Jesus flipping Christ, man, what is your problem?” The guy cringed a little, turning his head a little to the side before realizing Virgil wasn’t going to let up. “Geez, alright! I took him back to the Hanover house, and that was that.”
“Dammit. He could already be dead.” Virgil let go of the knight, slipping the dagger back in its sheath as he all but paced in the street and began mumbling to himself. “How am I gonna tell Patton?”
“I’m sorry, dead? That can’t be right.” The guy chuckled nervously, watching Virgil. “What absurd reason would they have to kill a regular old guy like him?”
“Apparently he discovered they kill kids for shits. I’d say that warrants him being silenced.”
The knight stared at Virgil for a long moment, face flabbergasted as he desperately tried to catch up to what he just heard, breaking the silence a moment later with a loud and stuttered, “They what?!”
“How the hell do you work for them and not know what they do in their spare time?” Virgil stopped in his pacing, giving him a disgusted look that the knight very much did not appreciate.
“I’m not exactly privy to family matters, you… overgrown cloaked raccoon!” He crossed his arms, looking away defensively. “I barely even know their names, let alone know about their crazy murder rituals!”
“What, so you’re just some dumb pretty boy for show?” Virgil smirked, leaning back against the wall opposite him. “Do you even have any combat skills or are you just there to make the others look good?”
“How dare you say something so insulting! I am a knight of the Hanover family, and I—“
Waving a dismissive hand in the air, Virgil nervously bit at his lip and stared down at the stone road between his feet. “Yeah yeah, shut it, pretty boy. I need to make a plan and don’t need your ignorance rubbing off on me.”
The knight was silent for several long moments before he spoke up again, quieter. “You really think they’re going to kill him? For discovering they’re some crazy murder cult?”
“The only way to find out is to ask him.”
“Okay.” He nodded once, seeming more sure of himself. He smacked his cheeks hard a couple of times, before taking a deep breath and composing himself completely. “I can do that.”
Startled, Virgil looked back up. “What?”
“I’ve got unrestricted access to the house and I can find and talk to him. If there’s any truth to what he says, I… I can probably get him out.”
“You’d do that?” Virgil asked suspiciously, narrowing his eyes. “You know that if they catch you they could kill you too, right?”
“If they’re really as crazy as either of you say, I’d rather take my chances than just keep working for them.” He paused for a moment before adding, “I don’t think I could focus on working knowing what I know, anyway.”
“I’ll hold you to that. Whatever you find out, let’s meet again soon.” It’s not that Virgil trusted this guy, but if he wanted to find Logan—for Patton’s sake, of course, not because he was actually worried at all—this idiot was his best shot.
“When and where?”
“I’ll find you.”
“Well, that sounds very delightful and not ominous at all.” The knight nodded, before adding with a chuckle, “Sure you can?”
“Hey, remember that I got the jump on you this time, so I can easily do it again.” Virgil shrugged, smirking. “See you around, pretty boy.”
Virgil’s cloak swished behind him as he pulled the hood up, disappearing into the crowd as the now indigent knight called after him.
“My name is Roman!” He waited for a moment, seeing another smirk sent his way from a little ways off. “Not that you bothered to ask. Asshole.”
#sanders sides#sanders sides fic#sanders sides fanfiction#fanfic#fanfiction#writing#cross posted on ao3#angst#virgil sanders#roman sanders#thomas sanders#logan sanders#patton sanders#medieval au#whump#well#whump next chapter#like lots of whump#oops#enemies to lovers#slow burn#oh yeah#it's starting
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