#and i think that thrills wade even more | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

urdreamydoodles · 5 days ago

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Can you please make an X-Men with a goth reader?? With Logan, Scott, Remy, Rogue, Pietro, etc.

We need more x men that can handle a goth baddie 😭🙏

X-Men x Goth!Reader

How the X-Men react to their gothic s/o

Wrapped in dark elegance, your presence is a mystery, a shadow that moves beside them.

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Kurt Wagner, Scott Summers, Jean Grey, Rogue, Erik Lehnsherr, Bobby Drake, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Laura Kinney & Wade Wilson

Oh my god, thank you for this prompt. I hadn't thought of that yet, and now I'm in love. (And yes, the X-Men need a goth baddie) Hope you like it <3

Logan Howlett aka. Wolverine

- Logan was immediately intrigued by your dark, edgy look. He’s always appreciated individuality, and your gothic style is no exception. There’s a look of quiet admiration in his eyes whenever you’re dressed up in dark attire, heavy eyeliner, and your signature accessories. He finds it a refreshing contrast to his own rugged appearance, and there’s a glint in his eye every time he sees you dressed to the nines in your gothic style.

- Despite his rough-and-tumble nature, Logan has a soft spot for taking care of you when you’re adjusting your outfit or fixing your makeup. He’s rough with his own appearance but becomes surprisingly delicate if you need him to hold a pin, help fasten a corset, or even steady your eyeliner in a moving vehicle. Logan finds a sort of pride in your style and will gruffly mutter about how you don’t need any of it to look “kickass” — though he never actually tells you to change.

- Logan has always been a bit protective, but seeing you in such unique attire intensifies that instinct. Whether you’re out in public or at a party with other mutants, he’s hyper-aware of anyone staring too long or making a comment. Anyone who tries to criticize or judge your appearance will face Logan’s steely glare, and if anyone dares to say something unkind, Logan will growl out a curt, “Watch your mouth.”

- Logan takes you on adventures in the forest, where your aesthetic is at home against dark trees, shadows, and the moonlight casting a pale glow. He notices the way your love of all things dark blends so well with nature, and he’ll sometimes surprise you with gifts like black roses or unique stones that he finds during his travels. There’s an unspoken connection between his wild spirit and your gothic beauty, and he feels that keenly.

- In private, Logan can’t help but be a little captivated by you. When you’re together, he takes a moment to admire you in the shadows, noticing the details in your clothing, jewelry, and makeup. He’ll run his fingers over your darkened nails or twirl a piece of your hair, finding the gothic aesthetic mysterious and alluring. He may be a man of few words, but the way he looks at you says it all.

Remy LeBeau aka. Gambit

- Remy was charmed from the moment he saw your gothic look. He’s always been drawn to unique personalities, and your dark, striking style caught his attention immediately. He’s often complimenting your bold choices and teasingly asks if you’re trying to cast a spell on him with your bewitching look. Every time you add something new to your ensemble, he’s the first to notice and give an enthusiastic approval.

- Remy loves accessorizing and will often gift you trinkets and jewelry that he thinks match your aesthetic. He has an eye for detail and will go out of his way to find vintage rings, unique chokers, or bracelets that fit right into your gothic wardrobe. Sometimes he’ll even joke that he “borrowed” it from a wealthy socialite, adding a bit of thrill to each item he gives you.

- Whenever you’re out together, Remy makes it clear to everyone around that he’s proud to be by your side. He doesn’t mind being the center of attention, and he revels in the way people stare at the two of you together. Your gothic style, paired with his smooth Cajun charm, makes you both an irresistible sight, and he absolutely loves the dramatic effect you create as a couple.

- Remy isn’t shy about getting involved in your look either. He’ll sometimes join you in wearing darker colors, occasionally adding a dark coat or some subtle accessories to match your aesthetic. And whenever you put on darker lipstick or smudged eyeliner, he’s quick to lean in, smirking and saying, “Chere, you tryin’ to make a bad boy outta me?” before sneaking a kiss and smudging your lipstick.

- At the end of the day, Remy loves the way your dark, bold look contrasts with his playful nature. In private moments, he’ll trace his fingers over your jewelry or adjust your lace gloves, smiling in admiration. There’s something about your mysterious beauty that makes him feel even more protective and infatuated, and he’ll often pull you close, murmuring about how he’s got a taste for danger — and you’re exactly his type.

Kurt Wagner aka. Nightcrawler

- Kurt is utterly enchanted by your gothic style. To him, it’s a beautiful form of self-expression, and he admires your ability to embrace it so wholeheartedly. His own appearance has always set him apart, and your willingness to stand out with your unique look makes him feel seen and appreciated. He’ll often tell you how striking you look, calling you his “dark angel.”

- While Kurt’s aesthetic might be different, he secretly loves trying out some gothic-inspired touches when he’s with you. Whether it’s a spiked bracelet, a dark cloak, or even dabbling with black nail polish (after much convincing), he’s open to stepping out of his usual look to match your vibe, finding it fun and endearing to share in your aesthetic.

- Kurt is deeply respectful of your style, and he’s fascinated by the meaning behind the gothic elements you choose. He’ll eagerly ask about your jewelry, your makeup, or why you love dark colors. He listens intently to your answers, often seeing your look as a form of art and self-expression. He sees beauty in everything you do, and that extends deeply to your appearance.

- When you’re both out together, Kurt keeps an arm protectively around you, teleporting you out of crowds if he senses anyone staring too much. He knows how judgmental people can be, and he wants you to feel as comfortable and safe as possible. He’ll often take you on night-time adventures, leaping across rooftops with you in his arms, knowing you’ll love the thrill of the city under moonlight.

- Kurt loves your aesthetic so much that he’s inspired to draw you. When he has free time, you’ll catch him sketching in his notebook, creating little drawings of you in various gothic outfits. He never tells you about it until you find his sketches by accident, blushing furiously when you compliment his work. He’d say shyly, “Vhy wouldn’t I vish to capture such beauty?”

Scott Summers aka. Cyclops

- Scott’s first reaction to your gothic style is one of quiet fascination. As someone who’s usually by the book, he’s intrigued by how unapologetically yourself you are. He’s not exactly one for bold fashion statements, but he admires your confidence and individuality, often finding himself silently captivated by your unique look. He might not say it often, but his lingering glances are unmistakable.

- Scott quickly becomes a bit protective when you’re out in public, especially if people stare or make comments. He’s the type to subtly position himself between you and any potential gawkers, his arm hovering near yours in a quiet but firm show of solidarity. He respects your aesthetic completely, and he doesn’t tolerate any negativity directed your way.

- While Scott may not share your love for gothic fashion, he’ll still make an effort to understand it. He’s the type to do his research and might even surprise you with knowledge about gothic subculture, books, or art. He takes your interests seriously and often engages in thoughtful conversations, eager to understand the things you’re passionate about.

- Although Scott isn’t one for grand gestures, he’s deeply supportive in his own quiet way. He’ll surprise you with thoughtful little gifts—perhaps a book by a gothic author you admire or a vintage item he thinks would suit your style. His love language might be subtle, but he’s always thinking of ways to show his appreciation for the things that make you unique.

- Behind closed doors, Scott’s admiration for your gothic look becomes a little more apparent. He’s endlessly fascinated by the contrast between his own controlled, structured personality and your bold, mysterious beauty. He’ll sometimes run his fingers through your hair, admiring the way it frames your face, and he’ll tell you in his own reserved way just how much he’s in awe of you.

Jean Grey aka. Marvel Girl / Phoenix

- Jean is fascinated by your gothic style and sees it as a beautiful, creative way to express yourself. She finds herself admiring the little details in your attire, the dark layers, intricate jewelry, and the way it all complements your personality. Her curiosity often leads her to ask about your fashion choices, eager to understand what each piece means to you.

- Being empathetic and open-minded, Jean appreciates how you embrace a style that isn’t necessarily “mainstream.” She’ll often compliment you, giving you a gentle smile and reminding you that she loves your unique style. She finds it refreshingly bold and admires how it reflects your inner strength and individuality. Jean occasionally likes to join you in trying out darker makeup or accessories to match your aesthetic, finding the experience fun and bonding.

- Jean’s powers make her sensitive to people’s thoughts, and she’s hyper-aware of the judgmental looks or whispers when you’re both out in public. She’s quick to reassure you telepathically, sending you warm, encouraging thoughts if she senses any discomfort from you. Her presence always feels like a supportive, silent reminder that she’s by your side, and she has a way of making you feel completely understood.

- Sometimes, she’ll surprise you with little gifts that fit your gothic style—a delicate black pendant she found, a book of poetry she thinks you’ll love, or a flower carefully chosen to match your look. Jean’s attentiveness shows in every thoughtful gesture, and she genuinely enjoys finding ways to make you feel cherished and accepted.

- Jean often finds herself captivated by the way your gothic aesthetic contrasts with her own. In private moments, she’ll softly tell you how beautiful and mysterious you look, her gaze filled with admiration. She’ll gently brush a strand of hair from your face, whispering about how she feels lucky to be with someone as unique and bold as you.

Anna Marie aka. Rogue

- Rogue adores your gothic style and finds it incredibly cool. She’s all about breaking the mold, so seeing you embrace a bold, dark aesthetic instantly impresses her. She’s the type to playfully nudge you and say, “You look killer, sugah,” whenever you put together a particularly striking look, and she often asks for style tips to incorporate some gothic elements into her own outfits.

- She loves joining you in shopping trips for gothic clothes and accessories. Rogue has a thing for statement pieces herself, so she’s always on the lookout for something edgy that could match both of your styles. She’s especially drawn to things like dark leather jackets, silver rings, and anything that screams “rebellious”—finding it exciting to shop with someone who has a taste for the unconventional.

- Rogue has a protective streak and won’t stand for anyone disrespecting you or making you feel out of place. If someone stares too long or makes a comment, Rogue has no problem giving them a sharp, intimidating glare. She’s fiercely defensive of your right to express yourself, and she’ll always make sure you feel comfortable and safe being yourself around her.

- Your gothic look and overall vibe sometimes make her feel a bit soft around you, and she loves that. Rogue admires your confidence and how you carry yourself, and she’s grateful for the quiet strength she feels from being with you. Sometimes, when it’s just the two of you, she’ll sit close and tell you how she feels like she’s found a kindred spirit in you—someone who isn’t afraid to stand out.

- In private, Rogue is endlessly affectionate and attentive. She loves taking in all the little details, like how you accessorize or the particular makeup you wear. She’ll sometimes brush her gloved hand across your cheek, marveling at how stunning you look and making you feel like you’re the only person in the world. With you, she can be her true, unfiltered self, and she’s grateful for that.

Erik Lehnsherr aka. Magneto

- Erik is immediately intrigued by your gothic aesthetic. He’s a person of elegance and sophistication, but he appreciates when someone dares to be different. He’ll often give you a thoughtful once-over, his piercing gaze lingering on you in silent admiration. Though he doesn’t say much at first, he finds himself fascinated by your unique look and style.

- Erik’s keen intellect often leads him to inquire about the historical roots of the gothic subculture, and he listens intently as you explain its influences. He sees a lot of strength in your choice to embrace a bold, non-conformist style and has a profound respect for your commitment to your aesthetic. He’ll occasionally surprise you with antique jewelry or rare finds that match your taste, finding a sort of thrill in choosing gifts you’ll treasure.

- When you’re out together, Erik is a silent but powerful presence, always by your side and subtly protective. Anyone who dares look down on you or make a judgmental comment will quickly find themselves on the receiving end of his steely glare. He values self-expression and has no patience for those who would try to undermine yours, making it very clear that he respects you fully and will tolerate no less from others.

- He has a refined appreciation for your style, often drawing parallels between it and his own preference for timeless, dignified looks. In private, he’ll run a hand over a piece of your jewelry or trace his fingers along the intricate details of your clothes, remarking in a low voice about how well it all suits you. He finds your appearance mesmerizing and genuinely enjoys the aura of mystery you bring with you.

- Erik doesn’t often show vulnerability, but with you, he finds himself at ease. He admires how your gothic style reflects resilience, a quality he holds dear, and he sees in you a kindred spirit—a reminder of strength in individuality. When it’s just the two of you, he’ll quietly express how he feels lucky to have found someone who embraces the world with such fierce independence.

Bobby Drake aka. Iceman

- Bobby is absolutely fascinated by your gothic style. As someone who’s always been a bit playful and lighthearted, he finds your dark, brooding aesthetic to be thrillingly different from anything he’s used to. He’ll often tease you affectionately, calling you his “goth queen” or “dark angel” in that playful way only he can pull off, genuinely admiring your commitment to the look.

- He’s endlessly curious about your fashion choices and will often ask questions about the different elements of your style, from the jewelry to the makeup. Bobby isn’t afraid to experiment either—sometimes you’ll catch him jokingly trying on your rings or attempting your dark eyeliner just for laughs. He loves getting you to crack a smile, even if it means looking a little ridiculous himself.

- Bobby is all about hyping you up in public. He finds your look incredibly cool and will proudly show you off whenever you’re together. If people give you weird looks, he’ll throw an arm around your shoulder and declare, “Yeah, that’s my goth babe—jealous?” His lighthearted energy brings a fun dynamic to your relationship, making you feel completely accepted for who you are.

- Despite his own upbeat personality, Bobby finds your gothic aesthetic deeply captivating. He’s fascinated by how well it reflects your personality, and he often jokes about being “entranced” by your dark, mysterious look. Sometimes, he’ll even ask if you could show him a bit more about the gothic subculture, genuinely interested in learning about something that means so much to you.

- In quiet moments, Bobby is surprisingly thoughtful, admiring your makeup or your choice of accessories in a way that’s tender and sincere. He’ll tell you that you look amazing and that he’s lucky to have someone so unique and bold by his side. Beneath all his jokes, there’s a deep respect for your individuality, and he genuinely loves how your gothic aesthetic adds a layer of mystery and allure to your relationship.

Wanda Maximoff aka. The Scarlet Witch

- Wanda is deeply drawn to your gothic aesthetic and feels an immediate kinship with you. She’s familiar with the feeling of being different, of standing apart, so she instantly understands your choice to embrace a darker look. She loves how your style is unapologetically you and finds comfort in how it resonates with the magic and mystery she herself embodies.

- Wanda is genuinely captivated by the intricacies of your look. She’ll admire the subtle details—maybe a delicate, ornate ring or a shadowed makeup look that speaks to your artistry. Sometimes she’ll playfully use her magic to make a small dark aura shimmer around you, a soft, enchanted touch to match your aesthetic. It’s her way of embracing your uniqueness and showing that she appreciates every part of you.

- When you’re both out together, she’s proud to be seen by your side. If people stare or pass judgment, Wanda doesn’t let it affect her. She’ll take your hand and give you a knowing smile, her quiet confidence making you feel fully accepted. Her serene presence has a calming effect, and you know you’re safe with her, free to be yourself without any need to explain or justify.

- Wanda loves sharing her own story with you, talking about the darker aspects of her past and the magic that’s sometimes misunderstood by others. She feels like you understand her struggles and admires how your gothic style speaks to resilience and defiance. Sometimes, she’ll create small magical gifts for you—a necklace that glows faintly with enchantment or a rose that never wilts, gestures to show her affection and appreciation for who you are.

- In private, she’s incredibly gentle and open, drawn to how your darker style balances her sometimes chaotic world. Wanda will often express how much she cherishes you, how your individuality and strength help her feel more grounded. She finds comfort in your presence, and there’s a deep, almost otherworldly bond that connects you both, as if she’s found a piece of herself in you.

Pietro Maximoff aka. Quicksilver

- Pietro is absolutely fascinated by your gothic look and finds it incredibly cool. He’s the type to whistle and tease you, calling you his “gothic queen” or “dark angel” with a big, proud grin. Your style is so different from his fast-paced, casual vibe, and he loves how it sets you apart from everyone else he knows.

- He loves showing you off and finds joy in watching other people’s reactions when they see you two together. Pietro has a protective streak, so if anyone gives you a weird look or mutters a snide comment, he’s quick to shut them down with a snappy comeback. He’s proud of your unique style and makes it known that he wouldn’t want you any other way.

- Pietro’s energy is a fun contrast to your aesthetic, and he often makes it his mission to get you to crack a smile. Whether it’s by jokingly trying on your dark lipstick or attempting your makeup style (usually ending up with eyeliner everywhere), he’s always trying to bring some lightheartedness into your day. He loves that your seriousness balances him out, and he always feels like his life is a bit more exciting with you in it.

- He’s incredibly curious about all things gothic and will often ask questions about your music, style, or favorite bands. Sometimes, he’ll surprise you by blasting one of your favorite gothic rock songs while you’re together, just to show he’s been paying attention. He’s always eager to learn more about what makes you tick and is genuinely interested in understanding the darker elements of your personality.

- In quieter moments, Pietro will tell you how lucky he feels to be with someone who’s so unapologetically themselves. He’s a bit of a show-off, but around you, he’s sincere, openly admiring the depth you bring to his life. He loves the contrast between your mysterious vibe and his vibrant personality, and he feels like you’re his perfect opposite, bringing balance to his world.

Laura Kinney aka. X-23 / Wolverine

- Laura’s first reaction to your gothic style is quiet fascination. She’s not one to comment much on appearances, but she admires how self-assured you seem with your unique look. She respects individuality, and your dark aesthetic quickly becomes something she associates with strength and resilience—a reminder that you’re someone who can stand out and face the world on your own terms.

- She’s very protective of you, especially if you’re out together and encounter anyone who looks down on your style. Laura doesn’t tolerate any disrespect, and if she senses anyone judging you, they’ll get a deadly glare. Your relationship with Laura is based on mutual respect, and she’ll go out of her way to make sure you’re never made to feel lesser because of how you look.

- Laura isn’t one for big gestures, but she shows her affection in small, meaningful ways. If she notices a new accessory or makeup look, she’ll give you a subtle nod of approval or say, “You look nice.” It’s her way of showing that she notices the little things and that she values the care you put into your style. Occasionally, she’ll even ask for your input if she wants to try something different with her look, trusting your judgment.

- Sometimes, Laura’s curiosity gets the better of her, and she’ll sit with you to ask questions about the gothic subculture. She respects that there’s a deeper meaning behind your aesthetic, and learning about your interests helps her feel closer to you. She listens intently, taking in every word with her characteristic seriousness, and it’s clear she appreciates the passion you have for your style.

- When it’s just the two of you, Laura lets her guard down and shows a softer side, often complimenting you in her own way. She’ll tell you that you’re “different from anyone else,” and coming from her, it’s the highest praise. With Laura, you know you’re accepted fully, and she values the unique presence you bring to her life, finding comfort and strength in the dark beauty that defines you.

Wade Wilson aka. Deadpool

- Wade is absolutely thrilled by your gothic style and finds it ridiculously cool. He’s the type to immediately start calling you his “dark and mysterious love,” and he’s not shy about showing you off. He’ll take you anywhere and everywhere, proudly bragging to anyone who’ll listen about how awesome you look. He loves that your aesthetic stands out and often tries to “match” you in his own chaotic way.

- Being Wade, he’s constantly trying to make you laugh, especially since your serious demeanor intrigues him. He’ll crack jokes, do silly impressions, and make exaggerated compliments about how you’re his “queen of darkness.” He’s always trying to get a smile out of you, relishing the challenge of breaking through your stoic exterior, and finds it endlessly amusing when he actually succeeds.

- Wade also loves dressing up to match your gothic look on occasion, though his interpretations are… creative. He’ll try on dark makeup or leather jackets and end up looking like a rock star from the 80s. Despite how outlandish he looks, his attempts are always genuine, and he adores the way your aesthetic complements his unpredictable personality.

- Wade is surprisingly sensitive to how the world judges appearances and takes it personally if anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way. He’s fiercely defensive of your right to express yourself and will launch into a full-fledged speech about how amazing you are, shutting down any naysayers with his trademark over-the-top theatrics. With Wade, you know you’ll always be celebrated for exactly who you are.

- In private, Wade will tell you how he admires the confidence and mystery you carry with your style. Beneath his antics, there’s a genuine admiration for your strength and individuality. He’ll hold your hand, make eye contact, and tell you that you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him, adding with a smirk, “Even if you look like you might summon a demon any second.” It’s his way of saying he’s completely smitten, and he loves you just as you are.

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atimesfeeler · 17 days ago

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Currently antagonizing over Deadpool’s skin condition.

Does it have less feeling bc it’s scarred? More because it’s cancerous? Is it tender when people brush his skin? Or is it more of an itching feeling? Do the scars move? Are some places more tender than others? Does he have scars bc of the experiment done on him or is it because he developed some sort of cancerous skin condition after his mutant powers were activated? Is it melanoma? Maybe a basal cell?

(If Wade’s skin is more numb, then I could make a case that he doesn’t like gentle touches bc he can’t really feel them. He likes it when Logan presses bruises into him, even if they fade because then he can actually feel it. He likes rough handling or bites or that freakiness we all know they have. More than just the thrill but because Logan isn’t afraid to make a mark.

Maybe after his diagnosis and after his scars Vanessa was a little too gentle with him. Like he was made of glass. She meant it to be caring but Wade just felt fragile. Broken. In an odd way being broken by someone who knows he can take it and then put back together again feels so much better than someone who’s afraid he’ll shatter. It wasn’t her intention but it’s different with Logan. Who sees Wade as his equal, someone who can take it, who likes the way Logan is and all his rough edges and needs it even.

The more I think about it, the more it seems like Wade appreciates that. He has close friends are alittle mean, alittle rough. They snap at each other and argue and Wade does it back. Al complains about every little thing Wade does but she won’t let him move out. Ellie will always be that bitchy teenager to Wade and they’ll argue about it forever but they’ll never leave each other. Of course Wade loves the gentle moments too but I think he really appreciates that they just treat him normally. He likes someone he can verbally spar with and still know that they would die for him and vice versa. And Logan is the epitome of rough around the edges but would die for the people he loves, which is why I think him and Wade work even when, on the surface level, it seems like they don’t.)

I also like the head canon that Logan’s skin is smooth and not callouses at all despite the fact that he seems like the guy who’d have a bunch of callouses but his regen factor heals them before they can form.

Opposites and all that.

#poolverine #poolverine fics #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool #headcanon

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kat-thepoet · 3 months ago

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Veins of Violet

Logan Howlett X Female Reader

Part 1: A grumpy Canadian enters

A/N: Hello guys! This is a Logan x Female reader story. So please enjoy!

Description: Violet, on the run from a dark past, finds herself stuck with Logan as her roommate, with her unpredictable best friend Wade by her side. As she navigates the chaos of her new life, she must choose between a love that could save her and a darkness that could consume her.

3.6k words

"Have you thought about what I told you?" I asked Vanessa as I sat across from her at our local coffee shop.

"Yes, and I think I'm ready to talk to him about us." she says with a soft smile.

A few weeks ago, before Wade unexpectedly left on his birthday party, I told Vannesa that she should get back together with him. They are such a cute couple, and Vanessa deserves to be with the person she loves, even though he's a total dickwad. I have known Wade for about six years when I auditioned for his superhero team. Or whatever you can call a group of morons who all collectively came together to save a chubby kid from being killed by a time travel freak with a medal arm. Regardless of mine and Wade's differences, like who is better, Edward or Jacob, or if pineapple belongs on pizza (it doesn't), he is still considered one of my best friends, along with Vanessa, whom I love dearly like a sister.

As I come back from my daydreaming, Vanessa gives me a slight grin and proceeds to ask her annoying question.

"So... now that Wade and I are possibly getting back together, why have you been avoiding the dating pool? I mean, I love you, but I don't want to see you die alone or possibly be forced to marry someone just to settle down. I want you to find someone who you can pour your heart into, like I do with Wade."

I look at her with annoyance and roll my eyes at her dramatic statement. After my last cheating boyfriend Adam who fucked my roommate by the way in my apartment, I've never found someone who truly moved me and made me feel special. I have gone on dates alone and even double dates with Nessa and Wade, but I have never felt something inside of me that truly made me desire them. When Vanessa talks about her and Wade's love lives and even their sex lives, she makes it sound like it's filled with passion and thrill, and I haven't experienced that with anyone yet. And I'm not even sure I ever will.

"We've talked about this, Vanessa. I haven't found anyone interesting, and I'm not going to force it by going to some lame bar and picking up the first person who shows interest." She laughs at my statement but doesn't say anything in response.

As we walked back to our building, we saw Wade with a dog who looked strangly like him, and along with him was a man with a very nice build and he was really handsome. As Wade spotted Vanessa walking down the street with me, he quickly let his dog sit on the ground and sprinted over to her, arms wide open.

"Vanessa! My love, my light, my everything! You look stunning as ever. It's like seeing the sun come up after a night of binge-watching questionable rom-coms. How about we skip all this mundane reality stuff and dive straight into a romantic montage? I've missed you more than tacos on a Tuesday!"

She pushes her off him. "Where the hell have you been? You left the party without even saying anything, and you expect me to be happy to see you?!" She says it angerfully.

I laugh, and he turns to me. "Well, well, if it isn't my favorite partner in crime," he said, giving me a playful nudge. "Looking fabulous as always. I swear, every time I see you, it's like someone cranked up the glam dial to eleven." He says with a sly smile.

I roll my eyes and, angrly, ask him the same question. "No, Wade, where the hell have you been? I called 20 times, and not one single call was returned!" I quickly glanced at his friend, and he was already staring at me. I quickly looked back at Wade, waiting for a response.

Wade raised his hands in mock surrender, a sheepish grin on his face.

"Whoa, whoa, easy there, tiger! I knew I should've upgraded my phone plan to include 'dealing with angry best friends' insurance. But in my defense, I was, uh... busy saving the world? Or maybe I got distracted by a marathon of cat videos. They're surprisingly addictive, you know!"

He glanced at his friend, who was still watching the exchange with interest, and then turned back to me with a wink.

"But seriously, I'm sorry for ghosting you two. I'll explain everything later, but for now, I need to kiss my girl."

He looked at Vanessa, and she stopped him, putting her hand on his mouth. "I'm not your girl; we still have a lot to talk about, Wade."

Wade paused, eyes wide with mock horror. He slowly removed her hand, raising an eyebrow with a playful smirk.

"Oh, come on, Vanessa! You know, I can't resist kissing my favorite girl, even if I have to work a little harder for it. But I get it, I get it—relationship talk first, smooches later. Consider me on my best behavior. We can talk about anything and everything you want—whether it's why I've been MIA or what I'm planning for our next adventure."

As he looks at his friend, he slaps his own forehead.

"I almost forgot, ladies, feast your eyes on the one, the only, the eternally grumpy Canadian himself—Wolverine! Or, as I like to call him, Logan, he is the sharpest guy I know. And no, that's not just a reference to his claws." He nudged Wolverine with his elbow, grinning.

"This is the guy who puts the 'X' in 'X-Men' and the 'grr' in 'gruff.' When he's not busy saving the world or scowling, he's perfecting his signature brooding look and cutting sarcasm. You might say he's the best there is at what he does, and what he does is... make me look even more sexy by comparison." Wade turned to Vanessa and I with a wink.

"Don't worry; he's not as intimidating as he seems. Just give him a beer, and he'll be your best friend—or at least tolerate you with only minimal growling. Logan, meet Vanessa, my stunning muse, and Violet, my partner in crime. Try not to scare them off with your rugged charm, alright?" Logan just rolls his eyes at his stupid introduction.

Vanessa extends her arm to shake his hand, and he hesitates for a moment but shakes it with a firm grip. "Nice to meet you, Logan." She says with a smile. Logan responds with a sarcastic tone, "Yeah, you too."

I extend my hand to do the same, and he takes it, but my hand lingers in his for a moment before he quickly pulls away. It's nice to meet you, Logan. Knowing the mouth that Wade has on him, you must have dealt with a few suicidal thoughts." I ask, trying to lighten the mood.

He smirks at my question and says , "Yeah, you could say that."

Wade clapped his hands together with an exaggerated gasp, clearly delighted by the interaction.

"Oh, I see what's happening here! Bonding over my endless ability to drive people nuts! Classic move, Vi." he said with a playful grin.

He waggled his eyebrows at Wolverine. "See, Logan? I told you my best friend's got a wicked sense of humor. We could start a support group for people who've survived my witty repartee. 'Deadpool's Survivors Club.' Meetings every Tuesday—blizzard dust and therapy provided."

Vanessa and I laughed at his comment, and we all headed back to his place.

Before I went to wades place I departed from the group and went into my apartment that was two doors over from his. I decided to get comfortable and take my working clothes off that had dirt on them from washing flowers.

I work at a flower shop that's about two blocks from here. I started working there about two years ago. The pay is great; I can pay my bills and treat myself once in a while. but I also live comfortingly because of my grandparents trust fund. My grandparents took care of me until I was 19 years old. They were doctors and were very successful. My parents died in a car crash when I was five. I don't really remember anything from that time. I guess my brain blocked all that trauma out. But regardless, I still ended up being experimented on by these mad scientists with some glowy gems. That's what granted me my abilities. And they used me to kill people. I try to forget at times, but now, ten years later, I'm here, surrounded by family who I adore.

I decided to change into a red tank top and grey sweatpants with my black and white Converse. By the look of the clouds, it looks like it's going to start to rain. I brush my hair and add a little makeup to clean myself up a bit. I finish up with a vanilla mist that Vanessa got me for my birthday, and I head out the door.

I knock on Wade's door, and through the door I hear muffling sounds and loud music. Nobody answers, so I open the door myself. The room is filled with some X-force members, along with Tin Man. Ellie and their adorable girl friend are singing kareoke. On the other side of the room in the kitchen, I see blind Al sniffing a line, Vanessa and Wade making out, and other junkies eating and drinking food. How did this escalate so quickly? I was only gone for 30 minutes. As I scanned the room to find a spot to sit, I saw Logan on the couch with a beer in his hand, watching Beyonce and Ariana horribly sing. There's a seat next to his, so I decided to sit next to him.

"Are you enjoying the party?" I asked with a smile.

Logan glanced at you, his expression flat.

"It's something, all right," he grumbled, taking another sip of his beer. "At least the beer's cold."

He shook his head slightly, watching the chaos unfold with a weary look.

"I've seen worse," he added with a shrug.

Logan leaned back, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. "You here to rescue me, or just enjoying the show?"

I pressed my lips together. He's not one to have a conversation with because he's so moody, and I'm determined to find out why, but I'll just play along with his nonchalant attitude for now.

"Just enjoying the show," I replied with a smirk. Logan's eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn't press further, turning his attention back to the chaos around us.

"Are you going to drink something?" he asked in a low voice.

"There's nothing here that doesn't destroy your liver." I said it with a tight smile.

"You don't drink?" he asked curiously.

"No." I said firmly, trying to keep the conversation light. "I prefer to keep a clear head in situations like this." Logan nodded, seemingly satisfied with my response, and we continued to watch the chaos unfold around us in silence.

"So, how did you meet Wade?" I asked curiously.

Logan took a moment, swirling his beer thoughtfully before answering.

"Well, it wasn't exactly a fairy tale," he replied with a wry smile. "Wade showed up out of nowhere, talking about timelines and some TVA nonsense. I thought he was just some weird fuck who wanted to mess with me."

He sighed, shaking his head at the memory.

"But then there was this whole thing with Cassandra threatening the timeline. I guess we ended up being unlikely allies. Not my first choice, but he's persistent."

Logan glanced at you, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Wade's like a bad rash; he just keeps coming back until you deal with him. At least this time, we managed to save the day and avoid a multiverse meltdown."

He shrugged, taking another sip of his beer. "You could say it was... educational."

I looked at him confused because, honestly, I did not understand any word that he said. He saw my expression puzzled but didn't focus too much on it.

"How did you meet a fucker like Wade?" he asked.

"It's a long story, but I've known him for about 6 years, and I met him when I auditioned for the X Force."

"Wait, you auditioned for the X Force? Why? " He looked at me strangely.

"Well, I have abilities of my own, and I wanted to use them for good." I said with a dry smile.

Logan nodded, processing your answer with a gruff expression.

"Abilities, huh?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "Wade's got a knack for attracting people like us. But an audition? That sounds like something only Wade would come up with."

Logan leaned back, giving you a more appraising look. "So, what can you do? And how've you survived six years with Wade without losing your mind?"

We talked about Wade and how fucked up in the head he was. Until I saw the time. It read 11:50.

"Oh, shoot, I have to get going. I have work in the morning." I said as I quickly stood up.

I quickly turned around and waved everyone good bye. As I headed for the door, Wade trotted after me with a mischievous grin on his face.

"Hey, wait up!" he called, catching up to me just as I stepped outside. "Before you disappear into the responsible adult dimension, I've got a burning question."

He leaned in conspiratorially, lowering his voice with mock seriousness. "So, does your annoying roommate still haunt your apartment, or have you finally exorcised that particular demon? I mean, I can't be the only one who thinks she's a walking buzzkill, right?"

I laughed at his remark about my ex roommate. I crossed my arms at his question.

"Why?" I said with a stern face.

Wade put on his best innocent face, which was hard to take seriously with the mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"Oh, no reason," he said, feigning nonchalance as he rocked back on his heels. "It's just that I have this furry, brooding friend who might be in the market for a new place to crash."

He leaned in closer, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. "You see, Logan here has this whole 'lone wolf' vibe going on, but I think deep down, he's just a cuddly, oversized teddy bear in need of a cozy new den."

Wade wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Plus, think about it: free security, and you'll never have to worry about running out of beer. And if you two ever get into an argument, he's got that healing factor, so no worries about broken bones or anything."

He flashed a grin, clearly enjoying himself. "So, what do you say? Got room for one more grumpy Canadian in your life?"

I looked at him, trying to see if this would be a good idea. He gave me puppy eyes, and I responded by rolling my eyes back. "Is he messy?" I asked, annoyed.

"I don't think so; let me ask." He quickly turned around and started skipping to his door. Before I could say anything, he brought out Logan. In the dim light of the hallway, I could see through his white beater tank top, which revealed his muscular physique. It made my mouth salivate. Why am I thinking this way?

I look at Wade, and he looks at Logan. " Are you messy?"

Logan crossed his arms, giving Wade a skeptical look before turning his attention to you.

"Messy?" he grunted, his voice gravelly. "Not really. I keep to myself and clean up after I eat.

Logan glanced at Wade, then back at you, with a hint of a smirk. "But if you're expecting a neat freak, you might want to look elsewhere. I'm not exactly Martha Stewart."

He paused for a moment, reading your expression, and added, "And don't worry, I don't bite. Much."

I rolled my eyes at his comment. He's clearly drunk, but I trust he's just trying to make a joke. Plus, his honesty about his habits is refreshing in a roommate.

"Fine." I said with a thin smile.

Wade's eyes lit up with excitement as soon as I said "fine."

"Score one for Team Wolverine!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air like he'd just won a championship. "You won't regret it! Well, maybe a little, but hey, what's life without some excitement, right?"

He clapped Logan on the back with a playful grin. "Welcome to your new home, bub! Remember, no claw marks on the good furniture, and try to keep the late-night growling to a minimum unless you want Violet to reconsider."

Wade turned back to you, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You've got yourself a real-life superhero as a roommate! Not everyone can say that. Just don't let him hog the remote on movie night—or the weed stash."

He gave you a thumbs up, clearly pleased with the outcome. "So, when's the housewarming party? I'll bring the chimichangas and some earplugs for those late-night howls, or we can do a threesome, whichever you prefer."

I rolled my eyes in annoyance.

I drew my attention to Logan before I spoke. "Go get your stuff so you can settle in." I said this as I turned to unlock my door. Wade kissed me on the cheek and walked with Logan back to his apartment.

I turned on the light from the spare room and thanked God that I cleaned it the second that whore Sara moved out because it was a mess. Luckily, the bed had fresh sheets, and it smelled clean. I heard a firm knock on the door.

That must be Logan.

I opened the door and saw Adam drunk and crying.

"Adam, what the hell are you doing here?" Adam, my cheating ex-boyfriend that I mentioned before, was here begging me to take him back and to forgive him for fucking my roommate on my new couch.

I crotched down to his level and said, "I'm never going to fucking forgive you for what you did to me. We were fucking engaged, but you chose to fuck another girl. Not a random girl, my fucking roommate, who I considered my closest friend. You know how I feel about lies and betrayals." I said with tears forming in my eyes. I know that he used and hurt me, but I can't help but feel heartbroken, even though this happened two months ago. He started to come closer until I tripped back on my ass. I landed on the floor, and he was on top of me. "Get off of me!" I said angrly. As I squirmed under him, I felt my eyes glow, and my powers wanted to come out and play, but I held the urge as I was fighting him off. All of a sudden, I hear loud footsteps coming towards us. Logan comes out of nowhere and grabs him by the collar. He yanks him onto the floor. My eyes are still closed as I try to control my outburst. I hear Logan yell at him, to never set foot here again, and Adam runs off.

As I control my breathing, Logan comes next to me and leans in. "It's ok, he's gone." He said in a low voice. I feel better for some reason now that he's by my side. I thank him still, with my eyes closed. I stand up and open my eyes to see him staring into mine. I blink the tears away and grab a glass of water.

"Who was that punk?" he asks, his voice laced with concern. I take a deep breath before responding, "My ex-boyfriend." I said calmly.

He doesn't say anything. I stand still until I finish my cup of water.

"Ok, sorry about that. Let's start with the tour. I have to get up early tomorrow. " I said with a soft smile. He nodded and proceeded with the living room.

As I gave the tour, he stared very intently at everything. How the laundry machines worked and where stuff was located in the kitchen. And I offered him a glass of water. After I gave a tour of everything but the bedrooms, he jugged the glass of water, and I stared intensely. The way his Adam's apple would bob from the gulp and the water droplets rolling down on his throat onto his hairy chest. He's so handsome and muscular. The way his dark blue jeans hug his thighs and how tight his pants are around the crotch area makes me feel parched. I quickly composed myself before he noticed I was staring too hard. Oh, he noticed

I opened my bedroom to let him take a peek. "Here's my bedroom, so if you need anything, just knock on the door. Next to mine is yours." I opened the bedroom door, and it was simple not girly or masculine, just normal. He shook his head in greatfulness. "Thank you for letting me stay here. It means a lot." I smiled at him as a response.

"I left you some things on your bed that you might need, but if you don't have any questions, then this is it." I smiled once more and walked into my room.

He walked into his, and we both closed our doors. I quickly put on my pijamas, which were a pair of short shorts and a small tank top. I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth. As I walked back to my room, I heard a knock on my door. It was him asking if he could borrow a toothbrush. I thought I gave him one, but I must have forgotten. I walked over to the restroom, and he followed. I could feel his eyes on me, but I didn't pay too much attention. I leaned down to grab a new toothbrush from under the sink, forgetting that my ass was full on display for him to see. I gave him the brush and said good night.

"Goodnight," he said back in a nicer tone.

Next part: Part 2: Of claws and heart

#deadpool and wolverine #wolverine #logan howlett #deadpool #wade wilson #fanfic #marvel #x men #logan howlett x reader

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ghoulsbounty · 5 months ago

Text

The Unexpected pt 1

DBF! Wade Felton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+), car sex, cowgirl, semi-public sex, heavy flirting, p in v, bad dates, mutual pining, angst, age gap (reader is early 30's, Wade is 48)

Word Count: 6.3K

A/N: Anon! ALL the love for Wade Felton! There isn't enough for him and I've loved writing this. Yes this gif did inspire the first half. Here is the first part, I hope you enjoy! I’d love to know what you all think to this, and feel free to send me more requests 💌

The anticipation had been building all day, excitement bubbling up within you like a shaken soda bottle ready to burst. You'd meticulously chosen your outfit, practiced your smile in the mirror, and rehearsed witty conversation starters in your head. After weeks of chatting online, you were finally meeting him in person—the man who seemed to check all the boxes, the one who promised to sweep you off your feet and make your heart race.

But as you sat at the cozy table near the window of the trendy restaurant, watching the world outside blur by in a flurry of raindrops, you couldn't shake the sinking feeling in your stomach. Time ticked by slowly, each passing minute punctuated by the clinking of cutlery and the murmured conversations of other diners. You checked your phone for what felt like the hundredth time, hoping for a message, a sign that he was on his way. Yet, there was nothing.

When he finally walked in, you tried to mask your disillusionment with a forced smile. He shrugged off his navy sports jacket with casual indifference, his eyes darting around the room as he muttered excuses for his lateness—a familiar refrain of traffic jams and inclement weather that did little to appease your growing unease.

As he settled into his seat opposite you, his gaze flickering over the menu without so much as a glance in your direction, you couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. This wasn't how you had imagined your first meeting—a whirlwind of laughter and chemistry, a spark igniting between you from the moment your eyes met. Instead, there was only awkwardness, an intense strain in the atmosphere between you.

You tried to make conversation, to salvage what little remained of the evening, but his responses were curt, his attention already drifting elsewhere. The giddiness you had felt in suspense of this date had long since dissipated, replaced by a sense of defeat and heavy regret. As he snapped his fingers to get the waiter's attention, you realized with a sinking feeling that this was not the beginning of a grand romance, but rather the end of a fleeting fantasy.

Your mom had been relentless in her encouragement to dip your toes into the dating pool. "You need to get out more," she'd insist, her voice a blend of exasperation and eagerness. "Don't spend every weekend holed up with your old folks." Though her intentions were good, her words often felt like a gentle push tinged with a mother's anxious plea.

At first, the idea had appealed to you—a chance to break free from the familiar routine, to explore new possibilities, to embrace the thrill of romance. The thought of being wined and dined, engaging in lively conversations with potential romantic interests, had sparked a sense of excitement within you. It all seemed infinitely better than the quiet evenings spent at home.

However, what you hadn't bargained for were the rollercoaster rides that awaited you in the tumultuous world of online dating. Each date often began with high hopes and slight apprehension but ended with you feeling more disheartened than before. The profiles rarely matched the personalities, the conversations fell flat, and the chemistry was frequently non-existent. The thrill of romance quickly turned into a series of awkward encounters, leaving you longing for the predictability of Scrabble nights with your parents.

Throughout your twenties, your focus had been singular: advancing your career. You'd packed your bags and moved across the country, chasing opportunities that promised to elevate your prospects. Along the way, there were relationships, some fleeting, some more substantial, and your fair share of dates. But whether it was the adjustment to life back in your hometown, or the distinct pool of available men in Raleigh, dating since your return had been anything but smooth sailing.

As you swept your gaze across the bustling restaurant, a familiar figure caught your eye. There, perched on a stool at the bar with an air of casual confidence, sat your dad's best friend. His presence seemed to command attention, and when his eyes met yours, there was a knowing glint that passed between you. With a hesitant lift of his fingers, he offered a greeting, and you responded with a subtle flick of your hand before discreetly returning it to your lap. A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you acknowledged him, a wave of nostalgia mingling with a hint of embarrassment.

Memories flooded back—summer barbecues filled with laughter, late-night advice sessions during tough times, and the unspoken bond that had grown over the years. It had been a while since you'd seen him, since you'd returned to your hometown. Despite the warmth of these memories, you'd kept your distance, declining invitations to join your parents at his recent back-yard cook-outs. A sense of failure and shame had held you back, the weight of unmet expectations and dreams unfulfilled lingering in your mind like a stubborn shadow.

Wade Felton sat at the bar, his casual confidence an anchor in the sea of strangers that surrounded you. His eyes, a mix of concern and curiosity, held a spark of recognition that sent a ripple of reassurance through you. It felt oddly comforting, the familiarity of his face amidst the unfamiliarity of the restaurant.

As you glanced his way, Wade raised his glass of bourbon in your direction, a subtle quirk of his eyebrow accompanying the gesture. It was a small but significant moment. Was it an invitation to join him in a drink, or perhaps a silent acknowledgment of the less-than-ideal situation unfolding at your table? You couldn't be sure, but the gesture warmed you nonetheless.

The evening had not gone as planned. Your date, Tom, was self-absorbed, endlessly droning on about his workout routines and expansive vinyl collection, without so much as a pause to engage you in conversation. You felt trapped, a prisoner of your own politeness, listening to him with feigned interest while your thoughts drifted to the man at the bar.

But now, with Wade's gaze fixed on you, you felt a spark of defiance. You'd had enough of enduring dismal dates out of sheer courtesy. His mere presence ignited a desire to reclaim your evening.

Summoning your courage, you interrupted Tom mid-monologue. "Can I stop you?" you said politely but firmly. "This isn't going well, I think you'd agree."

Tom looked taken aback, his expression shifting from confusion to resignation. He nodded slowly, his eyes dropping to the table. He reached for his wallet, extracted a few notes, and placed them on the table. "You're right," he admitted bluntly, "you were much more interesting when we talked on the app."

You seethed inwardly but maintained your composure, offering a tight-lipped nod as you retrieved your share of the bill from your purse and placed it on top of his contribution.

"I'm taking this," Tom declared, grabbing the bottle of wine as he rose from his seat. Snatching his jacket, he glanced back at you. "Good luck," he added curtly before exiting the restaurant, leaving you alone at the table.

With a heavy sigh, you gathered your purse and the plate of food you had ordered. Determination fuelled your steps as you navigated the crowded restaurant, heading towards the bar where Wade sat, his sturdy frame dominating the space. As you approached, the soft glow of the overhead lights cast a warm halo around him, illuminating him like a beacon in the dimness of the bar.

Setting the plate down on the polished counter, you pushed it towards Wade with a gentle yet purposeful motion. With practiced ease, you hoisted yourself onto the stool beside him, the worn leather creaking softly beneath you. Leaning in, you met his amused gaze with a playful twinkle in your eyes.

"Did you order the Korean tacos with a side of a woman who is apparently more fun on a dating app than in real life, Mr. Felton?" you quipped, your words laced with a touch of self-deprecation. A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as Wade's laughter filled the air, his easy-going demeanour a welcome contrast to the tension of your failed date. With a casual grace, he turned to face you, one arm resting on the bar as he met your gaze with genuine warmth.

His laughter was like a balm, soothing the sting of the evening's earlier disappointments. "I don't like to pry, but it didn't seem like you were getting a word in edgewise," he remarked, shaking his head in amusement. He signalled to the bartender and ordered you a glass of white wine. "White, right? If I remember, red gives you headaches," he added with a knowing smile.

You nodded appreciatively, a wide smile spreading across your face at his thoughtfulness. The way he remembered such a trivial detail about you struck a chord, touching you in a way you hadn't expected. It wasn't just the wine; it was the recognition, the familiarity in the gesture that made you feel seen.

As you brought the glass of wine to your lips and took a sip, a sense of calm washed over you. The crisp, cool liquid steadied your nerves, the taste familiar and soothing. The ambient noise of the restaurant faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in this unexpectedly intimate bubble. The warmth of the moment wrapped around you, making this unfamiliar yet oddly comforting situation feel like a safe haven amidst the chaos of your evening.

This felt like a decisively grown-up situation, and while you knew you were perfectly capable of handling it, there was still a sense of novelty to the experience. Normally, around your dad's friends—people you had essentially grown up with—you couldn't help but feel like a child, forever relegated to the role of the kid tagging along. But here, sitting at the bar with Wade, it felt different. Two adults, sharing a drink and engaging in conversation as equals. You couldn't help but wonder if he felt the same way, or if perhaps this was just a figment of your imagination, a fleeting moment of perceived maturity.

"Are you waiting for someone?" you asked, your curiosity piqued as you tried to manoeuvre yourself gracefully through the conversation with the older man.

Wade's gaze drifted for a moment, his eyes flickering briefly to his phone before returning to meet yours. "I was," he admitted with a sigh, the faintest hint of disappointment colouring his tone. He lifted his phone from the bar to check a message. "But not anymore. Seems like I got stood up."

You noticed a flicker of frustration in his eyes, a brief moment where his façade faltered before he shrugged it off with a nonchalant gesture. The soft glow of the bar lights bathed his face in a warm, amber hue, accentuating the contours of his features and the subtle lines that spoke of a life rich with experiences.

"That's rough," you sympathized, your voice soft as you raised the glass of wine to your lips, offering a brief reprieve from the tension in the air. You savoured the taste, allowing it to linger on your palate as you considered the shared sense of defeat you felt with him. "Seems like we're both having a night of disappointments," you remarked, the words carrying a weight of understanding between you.

Wade chuckled, a deep, reassuring sound that made you feel at ease. His eyes crinkled at the corners, reflecting the light. "Yeah, it looks like it. But hey, at least we can keep each other company now."

You couldn't help but silently thank the woman who hadn't shown. Since you were old enough to appreciate the opposite sex, you'd harboured a secret admiration for the older man. In your awkward late teens, you likely made it painfully obvious, your infatuation spilling over in clumsy gestures and stammered words, until your first experiences with boys taught you the nuances of approaching them with an air of sensuality.

But even as you matured, your admiration for Wade remained steadfast, a silent longing that lingered beneath the surface. You'd often caught yourself stealing glances at him during family gatherings, marvelling at the way his laughter seemed to fill the room and the easy confidence with which he carried himself.

Now, as you sat beside him at the bar, you couldn't shake the thought that fate had intervened in the form of a missed date. The anticipation of what could unfold between you hummed in the air, mingling with the soft murmur of conversation and the clinking of glasses. Despite the unlikelihood of him ever seeing you as anything more than his best friend's daughter, you couldn't resist the urge to inch closer on your stool until your knee brushed his, a subtle yet deliberate gesture that spoke volumes of your unspoken desires.

"So, what were you looking forward to more, the company or the food?" you asked, your tone light and playful.

He leaned back slightly, the leather of the bar stool creaking under his weight as he considered your question. "A bit of both, I suppose," he said, his voice low and thoughtful. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture that betrayed a hint of vulnerability beneath his usually composed exterior. "But if I'm honest," he continued, his gaze softening as it met yours, "good company always trumps good food."

There was a sincerity in his words that made your heart flutter, a comforting heat enveloping you you at the genuine sentiment behind them. With a thoughtful expression, you pursed your lips, considering his response. "I agree," you finally replied, a playful glint in your eyes, "but you haven't tried these tacos yet."

With a mischievous smile, you slid the plate over to him, the aroma of the savoury dish filling the space between you. Wade chuckled, a deep, resonant sound that reverberated through the air, his laughter infectious as it mingled with the ambient noise of the busy bar.

"You're right," Wade agreed, his tone light as he picked up a taco and broke it in half with a satisfying crunch. He held out a piece to you, a twinkle in his eyes as he willed you to accept it with a smile. "I can't be too quick to judge, can I?" he added, his expression teasing.

You accepted the taco from Wade, feeling a rush of excitement as his fingertips brushed against yours, sending a shiver down your spine. His eyes remained locked on yours, a silent exchange of understanding passing between you as he brought the food to his lips and took a bite, a soft hum of appreciation escaping him.

Following his lead, you savoured the explosion of flavours from the taco, each bite a delightful symphony of spices and textures that danced on your tongue. "Damn, that's a good taco," Wade remarked, a satisfied smile spreading across his face as he turned his attention back to you. His eyes held a warmth that matched his smile, and there was a subtle yet unmistakable longing in his gaze. "Still prefer the company, though," he added, his words laced with sincerity and a hint of something more, leaving you with a fluttering sensation in your chest.

The moment felt unexpectedly intimate, the simple act of sharing food creating a connection that seemed to transcend the confines of the respective roles you held in each others lives. With each bite, the initial awkwardness of the evening melted away, replaced by a growing sense of ease that you hadn't felt in a man's company in a long time.

When Wade finished with a lick of his fingers, a jolt of electricity shot through you, igniting a flurry of thoughts and emotions. You inwardly scolded yourself, urging restraint and reminding yourself of the countless reasons why anything beyond what you had with Wade was impossible. After all, there were too many factors to consider: your dad, the significant age difference, the intricate web of familial and social dynamics that bound you both.

"So, tell me," Wade continued, pulling you from your thoughts as he leaned back slightly against the bar, his expression relaxed yet curious. "What have you been up to since coming back to town? Besides enduring disastrous dates, of course."

"Well," you began, fingers idly tracing patterns on the stem of your wine glass as you mulled over your response, "besides dodging the pitfalls of modern romance, I've been navigating the murky waters of post-grad life and a floundering career." You paused, allowing the weight of your words to settle before continuing. "Moving back home has been... an adjustment, to say the least. But I'm slowly finding my footing again."

Wade nodded, his gaze gentle and attentive as he listened to your words. "I can imagine," he replied, a hint of empathy in his voice. "Transitioning back to small-town life after being away for so long must be quite the challenge. But it sounds like you're handling it with grace."

You couldn't suppress the smile that tugged at your lips, appreciating his understanding and the fact that he always knew what to say. "Thanks," you murmured, feeling a heat rise to your cheeks. "And what about you? What's been keeping you busy these days?"

"Work, mostly," he chuckled, his eyes gleaming with a hint of amusement as he reflected on his daily endeavours. "And trying to keep up with my girls. I was not prepared for teenagers," he confessed, shaking his head with a wry grin, "but your dad's been a real help, keeps me on my toes."

"I bet he does," you replied, the mental image of your dad as the lively and enthusiastic accomplice in Wade's parenting adventure brought a smile to your lips. "He's always been good at that."

Wade nodded, then with a playful wave of his hand, he dismissed the topic. "Enough about him," he added with a laugh, and you felt a wave of relief wash over you, grateful to steer the conversation away from your father. It felt odd, almost wrong, to talk about him while your leg was pressed against Wade's under the bar, a contact he made no effort to break.

"So, what are your plans now that you're back?" he asked, his eyes searching yours with genuine interest. "Any grand ambitions?"

Resting your chin on your palm, you observed the dance of light on the surface of your glass, captivated by the intricate patterns it wove. "Honestly," you began, your voice soft yet tinged with a hint of vulnerability, "I'm still figuring it out." You glanced up, meeting Wade's gaze with a mixture of uncertainty and resolve. "I had these grand plans for my thirties, you know? But I guess the universe had different ideas."

The weight of your words hung in the air, yet, despite it all, a small, determined smile graced your lips. "But hey," you continued, a flicker of energy lighting up your eyes, "if I'm a grown adult now, living under my parents' roof, I might as well make the most of it, right?" You chuckled softly, the sound carrying a hint of conviction. "So, I'm getting out and trying to have a little fun, seeing what else the universe has in store for me. I guess I'm just taking it one step at a time."

Wade's eyes gleamed with a sense of prideful understanding as he listened intently, nodding along in affirmation. "That's a good approach," he remarked, his voice carrying a comforting resonance. Each word seemed to wrap around you like a reassuring embrace. "Sometimes, taking it one step at a time is the best thing you can do. And hey," he added, a smirk tugging at his lips, "there's nothing wrong with a little fun along the way."

The seemingly innocuous exchange between you in the intimate ambiance of the bar carried implications that sent shivers of excitement down your spine. With his gaze locked onto yours, brimming with sincerity, you felt a newfound boldness surge within you. "Sometimes, the best things can happen when you least expect them, right?" you posed, your voice laced with a hint of playfulness, yet underscored by a genuine curiosity, eager to explore the depths of this burgeoning connection.

He chuckled softly. Glancing down at his drink, he lifted the glass and met your gaze once more. "To the unexpected," he said, his voice low and inviting.

You brought your glass to his, the crystal clinking together in a toast that felt like a promise. "To the unexpected," you echoed, a smile spreading across your face as the moment hung between you.

As you both took a sip, the background noise of the restaurant seemed to fade even further, leaving just the two of you in your shared bubble. The possibilities of the evening ahead had your heart pounding against your chest, your mind reeling with the idea that perhaps your fantasies were about to come true. You glanced at Wade, noticing the way his eyes sparkled with a mixture of amusement and curiosity.

The buzz from the wine spread through you, mingling with the excitement of the moment. You set your glass down, your fingers grazing his on the bar top, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm. He didn't pull away; instead, he leaned closer, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch.

"Can I take you home?"

The drive was silent except for the blues that crooned lowly on the radio, the tension between you palpable. Each glance, each accidental touch, only heightened the anticipation. When he finally pulled into his driveway, the reality of what was about to happen hit you with full force.

Wade turned off the engine, and for a moment, the only sound was the rain tapping softly against the roof, creating a cocoon of intimacy around you. He turned to face you, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and uncertainty. "I think I should walk you to your door," he conceded, his voice laced with sincerity.

A wave of disappointment washed over you at his words, the excitement you previously felt now ebbing away as you contemplated the end of the evening. Your gaze shifted to your house, standing in quiet solidarity beside his under the silvery glow of the moon. Every window remained veiled in darkness, the roar of the engine hadn't woken your family or his.

You hesitated, reluctant to let the evening come to such an abrupt end. With a fleeting glance back at Wade, you searched his eyes, hoping to uncover any clue about his true desires. The unspoken tension between you seemed to thicken, casting a heavy, almost suffocating atmosphere around you. Summoning your courage, you finally voiced your question. "Is that what you want?"

Wade sighed deeply, his hands sliding over his jean-clad thighs in a gesture of frustration. He looked up at the ceiling, the muscles in his jaw tightening. "No, it's not," he admitted, his voice a hushed murmur. "I want you, but I can't have you."

Your heart soared at his confession, a thrill coursing through your veins. Your fingers tingled as you unbuckled your seatbelt, turning inwards to face him. "Says who?" you challenged, your voice soft but steady.

He looked at you then, truly looked at you, as if seeing you for the first time. The rain outside intensified, drumming a steady rhythm on the truck roof, making the interior feel even more intimate. The raw intensity of his gaze made your breath catch in your throat. The dim light from the streetlamp cast a soft glow over his rugged face, highlighting the conflict warring within him.

"Says everyone," he finally replied, shaking his head as if trying to clear his thoughts. "Your dad, our families... It would be wrong."

"Does it feel wrong?" Your question hung in the air, charged with uncertainty. With a tentative touch, your fingertips traced a path along Wade's thigh, the fabric of his jeans rough against your skin. His breath caught in his throat, a flicker of surprise dancing in his eyes, mirrored by the vulnerability in your own. In the dim light of the truck cabin, every detail seemed magnified—the furrow of his brow, the intensity of his gaze, the subtle quiver of his lips. "Does it feel wrong?" you repeated, your voice steady, yet laced with a newfound determination. "I know what I want, and I think you do too."

His eyes darkened with a mix of desire and hesitation as reached out, his hand trembling slightly as it cupped your cheek. His thumb brushed lightly over your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. You leaned into his palm, closing your eyes for a brief moment, savouring the warmth of his touch.

When you opened your eyes again, the uncertainty in his had given way to resolve. He leaned in slowly, his breath hot against your lips, filling the small space with an intoxicating air. "If we're doing this," he whispered, his voice filled with raw emotion, "we're doing it right."

You weren't sure what he was alluding to but nodded regardless, your heart pounding as his lips finally met yours. The kiss started tentative, sweet and gentle as if testing the waters, but quickly deepened into something more urgent and demanding. His other hand released him from his belt before finding its way to your waist, pulling you closer. The rain outside continued to pour, but all you could feel was the heat of his embrace and the electrifying connection that surged between you.

His lips were soft but insistent, exploring yours with a hunger that mirrored your own. The taste of bourbon lingered on his tongue, mingling with the sweetness of yours. You threaded your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer, losing yourself in the moment. You slid the hand still on his thigh higher until your palm laid flat over the growing bulge in his jeans. You gave him a firm squeeze, and he tore his lips from yours as he eyed you warily.

"We can't, not here," he said, glancing behind you, his eyes flitting between your house and his.

You followed his gaze over your shoulder, taking in the proximity of both houses, each window still dark and quiet. Turning back to him, you asked softly, "Are the girls home?"

"Yes," he sighed in defeat, his body still tense under your touch. "I can get us a room."

You shook your head. "I don't want to wait any longer," you told him, voice laced with persuasion as you leant in to plant a soft kiss at the corner of his mouth. "I've needed you long before tonight," you told him.

"Gotdamn," he breathed, hand leaving your waist momentarily to adjust his seat, sliding himself back to make more space between him and the wheel. "Hop on, baby," he commanded, his voice rough with need as he pulled at you towards him. You climbed over the console, your dress hitching up as you straddled him, knees pressing into the worn leather seat on either side of his thighs.

His hands settled on your hips again, fingers digging in slightly as he looked up at you, his breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts. The raw hunger in his gaze sent a thrill through you, his need for you evident from the hardness pressed between your thighs. You leaned in, your lips finding his once more, the kiss deep and consuming as your tongues battled for dominance.

The sensation of his hands roaming over your back, holding you tight to his firm chest, was exhilarating. His touch was both demanding and gentle, a mix of urgency and care that made your pulse race and nerves fray as he explored your body.

He kissed down your neck, his lips trailing hot and wet against your skin, leaving a path of shivers in their wake. His tongue flicked out, teasing the sensitive spots that drove you wild. When he reached the dome of your breasts, you hooked a finger around the fabric of your dress and the bra underneath, pulling them down to expose yourself to him. The sudden rush of cool air made your nipples harden instantly, standing erect in anticipation. Wade's eyes darkened with desire as he took in the sight before him, and a soft growl escaped his lips.

He took one nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it with expert precision, each flick sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. The delicious graze of his teeth added an edge to the sensation, making you gasp and arch your back, pressing yourself even closer to him.

His hands roamed over your back and sides, exploring every curve and contour, as if he couldn't get enough of you. The combination of his mouth on your breast and the possessive grip of his hands on your body was overwhelming your senses with a heady mix of pleasure and lust.

As he switched to your other nipple, giving it the same exquisite attention, you tangled your fingers in his hair, holding him close. The cabin of the truck seemed to shrink around you, the rain outside a distant, rhythmic backdrop to the heat building between you. The world outside ceased to exist, leaving just the two of you in this moment of raw, unfiltered passion.

Your hips began to move of their own accord, grinding against the roughness of his jeans, seeking more friction, more contact. Every nerve in your body felt alive, tuned to the frequency of his touch and the sensations he was eliciting from you. The tension that had been building all evening was finally coming to a head, and you hoped that this was only the beginning.

His hardness was unyielding against your thigh, the heat of it sending a thrill through to your core. You smiled, the excitement electrifying as you slid a hand between your bodies, fingers deftly working to unbuckle his belt. The metallic clink echoed in the confined space of the truck, adding to the charged atmosphere. You released him from the constraints of his jeans and underwear, feeling the weight of his cock in your hand, heavy and pulsing under your touch.

Wade's breath hitched, his teeth grazing down on your swollen nipple with just enough pressure to make you gasp. The flat of his tongue followed, soothing the bite with a heavenly lick that prickled your skin with goosebumps. He kissed up your jaw, his lips soft and warm as he grinned against your neck, mumbling a promise not to leave any visible marks on you this time.

Before you had a chance to contemplate the significance of his words, you shifted, aligning yourself over him and using the leaking tip of his cock to slide your panties aside. The feel of his smooth head against your wet folds made you both moan softly. Wade's hips pushed upwards instinctively, seeking more of you, but you held back, teasing him by running his sensitive tip through your slickness.

His eyes were dark with lust, the intensity of his gaze almost too much to bear. "Please," he murmured against your skin, his voice raw with need. The sound of it made you ache for him and you felt your wetness seeping down your thigh as you dragged him back and forth.

You couldn't resist any longer. Slowly, you lowered yourself onto him, the head of his cock parting your folds and sliding into you with delicious resistance. He filled you completely, stretching you in a way that felt both familiar and new. Wade groaned, a deep, primal sound that resonated through his chest and into yours, his hands gripping your hips as if to anchor himself.

You started to move, setting a slow, deliberate pace that allowed you to feel every inch of him. Each thrust, each slide, sent waves of pleasure through your body. Wade's hands roamed over you, caressing and squeezing, his fingers digging into your flesh with every rise and fall as he guided you expertly on top of him, your own fingers gripping at the meat of his shoulders.

"W-Wade," you mewled, eyes rolling into the back of your head as he hit that sweet spot inside of you over and over.

The car was filled with the lurid sounds of your fucking —the soft moans, the wet squelches of your cunt taking him as began to bounce you on his cock, the occasional squeak of the leather seats. It was raw, it was real, and it was everything you'd secretly desired.

"You feel so good, baby," he murmured, pausing to tenderly nip at your chin. "So unbelievably good, wrapped around me like this." His words, laced with admiration, echoed in the intimate space between you.

Wade's lips found yours again, capturing them in a searing kiss that conveyed everything words couldn't. His tongue danced with yours, the kiss deepening as your pace quickened, the need to reach that ultimate crescendo becoming overwhelming. You rode him harder, faster, the friction building, the tension coiling tight within you.

When his hand slid down to where your bodies were joined, his finger pressed against the tight bundle of nerves that had you seeing stars. You tore your lips from his, seeking solace in the crook of his neck. Inhaling his bewitching scent—pine mingled with a faint hint of tobacco—your mind numbed, surrendering to the overwhelming sensations as you gave yourself to him completely.

Your body tensed, every muscle locking as waves of ecstasy washed over you, leaving you breathless and trembling under his touch. He muffled the cry of his name from your mouth with a fiery kiss, continued to use his grip on your waist to bounce you on top of him as he fucked you through your orgasm and chased his own. When he followed, he groaned into your mouth as he pumped his load inside of you, bit your bottom lip as your greedy pussy took all of him.

You broke the kiss and collapsed against his chest, feeling his strong arms envelop you as his chin rested gently on your head. He traced soothing patterns on your back, and for a moment, you stayed like that, intertwined, with the aftershocks of pleasure still rippling through you. Slowly, you ran a trail of soft kisses along his jaw before resting your forehead against his, both of you struggling to catch your breath. His large palm caressed the exposed skin of your ass, sliding back and forth between your behind and your thighs in a tender attempt to soothe and comfort you.

"Well," you breathed, your eyes gleaming with a teasing light, though a hint of vulnerability still shone through. "Did it feel wrong?"

He chuckled, leaning back against the seat as he considered you. "No, darlin', it did not," he said, his smile matching yours.

You rose on shaky legs, took him from you and tucked him back into his jeans before reluctantly moving away from him. The ache for more of him already tugged at you, but you knew your time together was limited tonight. As you shifted back to return to your seat, you misjudged the space and accidentally pressed against the horn of the truck. The sudden blare shattered the night's silence.

You jumped in surprise, and Wade's hands immediately grasped your hips, steadying you both. His gaze quickly scanned over your shoulder, looking for any sign that his daughters had been awakened by the noise. You mirrored his concern, your eyes darting to your parents' home. The windows had fogged with the tell-tale signs of your act, but you managed to peek through a clear spot to see. After a few tense moments, you sighed in relief when everything remained still.

Looking at each other in disbelief, you both laughed as you sat back in your seat, adjusted your dress to cover your breasts and thighs as you smoothed the down the fabric. A wave of nerves washed over you, unsure of your next move until Wade turned to you with an endearing smile. "I'm gonna walk you to your door now, before you wake the whole neighbourhood."

He left the comforting warmth of the truck, and for a brief moment, you felt adrift, alone and lost. But then your door opened, and there he stood, extending a hand toward you. You smiled, placing your hand in his as he gently helped you down from the truck.

As he walked ahead, he kept your hand clasped behind him, positioning it between you both as if to shield you from any prying eyes that might intrude on your moment. The gesture touched you deeply, a silent reassurance that he was still connected to you even after leaving the intimate cocoon of the truck.

You followed him up the steps to your porch, the familiar creak of the wooden boards beneath your feet grounding you in the present. When you reached the door, he reluctantly let go of your hand, allowing you to rummage through your purse for your keys. The rain had stopped and the night air was cool against your skin, filled with the subtle fragrance of blooming flowers and the distant hum of nocturnal creatures.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his gaze brimming with worry as he peered down at you. "You'd tell me if you weren't, wouldn't you?"

Your lips curved into a smile, moved by his genuine concern for your well-being. You held you keys in your hand, the metallic clank loud in the silence of the night. "I'm perfectly fine," you reassured him, warmth infusing your words. "Actually, more than fine. Thank you for turning a disastrous evening around, Mr. Felton," you quipped, a smirk tugging at your lips.

Grinning, he casually leaned against the porch banister, hands snugly tucked into the pockets of his jeans. A mischievous glint in his eyes, he winked, reigniting a spark of need within you. "Hope to catch you at the next cookout," he teased, before pushing off the banister and descending the stairs with easy confidence.

You nibbled on your bottom lip, silently watching as he made his way to his own porch. Pausing at his door, he cast a lingering glance your way, offering a final wave before disappearing inside.

Entering your home, you kicked off your shoes and dropped your purse, leaning back against the door with a contented sigh. Your heart overflowed with joy, and your mind stubbornly refused to dwell on anything but the exciting possibilities awaiting you with Wade. You weren't quite sure what this was between you yet, but one thing emerged crystal clear: your dad was to never find out.

#wade felton #wade felton x reader #wade felton x you #x reader #the unicorn #walton goggins #wade felton smut #fic request #smut fic

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multi-fandoms-posts · 2 months ago

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The Explosive Mission part 2

part 1, last part

X Men Masterlist

The forest clears, and the objective, a hidden underground research facility, comes into view. Y/N, Charles, Erik, Wade, and Logan stand on a small hill, overlooking the building. The tension is palpable, but as always, Y/N can’t resist breaking the tense silence with a cheeky comment.

---

“So, what’s the plan, Charles?” Y/N asks, deliberately leaning in close to Charles so she can feel his warm breath on her skin. “Are you going to take charge and lead us all again? Or should Erik be the one to... lead us this time?”

Erik, who is focused on the facility, glances briefly over his shoulder at Y/N. “You know I’m happy to take charge when necessary.”

“Oh, I know,” Y/N whispers, her eyes sparkling with mischievous delight. “You like being in control. Especially when things get... intense.”

Charles, usually the picture of calm, feels his cheeks flush slightly. He takes a step back, but Y/N doesn’t let up.

“Charles,” Y/N says innocently, “you look tense. Maybe we should take some time for ourselves after the mission. You know, to... relieve the tension.”

Erik grins and lets out a quiet laugh. “I think he could use that.”

Wade, peering through binoculars at the facility, interrupts the moment with his usual loud voice. “Hey, Logan, do you see that over there? I think that’s a spot for just the two of us. Totally secluded, no witnesses... you could finally let out those feelings you’re so desperately trying to suppress.”

Logan growls without even looking. “Wade, stop talking before I shove those binoculars down your throat.”

“Ah, the usual threats. I love it when you get aggressive.” Wade looks over at Y/N. “Y/N, help me out. What’s your secret? How do you manage to deal with two of these guys? Logan here won’t even let me close.”

Y/N laughs and shrugs. “It’s all about chemistry, Wade. You need the right mix of charm, cheekiness, and, well... a little provocation.” Y/N gives Charles and Erik a knowing glance. “Right, guys?”

Charles sighs heavily, but a smile tugs at his lips. “You could say you have a... unique effect on us, Y/N.”

“Oh, unique is exactly the right word,” Erik agrees, his voice deep and dark. “Sometimes you push us to our limits.”

Y/N leans in towards Erik, her lips almost brushing his ear. “I love it when you lose your limits. It makes everything so much... more interesting.”

Wade, watching the conversation with a broad grin, claps his hands. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is exactly the kind of entertainment I’m here for. Drama, romance, and a touch of danger! Logan, maybe we should take a page from this.”

“Shut up, Wade,” Logan growls as he crouches to examine the ground. “I’m trying to come up with a plan while you babble nonsense.”

“Nonsense? I call it the art of seduction, my friend. You could learn something.”

Y/N laughs again and nods at Wade. “Maybe we should hold a little workshop after the mission. ‘Seduction 101’ – Logan could be the first student.”

Erik laughs quietly and shakes his head. “I think Logan has other things on his mind than your tricks, Y/N.”

“Really?” Y/N presses closer to Erik. “I thought my tricks have already convinced quite a few... including you.”

Erik raises an eyebrow and looks at Y/N sidelong. “I’m not as easy to manipulate as you might think.”

“Oh, I know.” Y/N lets her fingers lightly trail over Erik’s arm. “But that just makes it more thrilling, doesn’t it?”

Charles, who usually tries to keep things serious, can’t help but smile. “We should really focus on the mission. I know it’s hard for you, Y/N, but we all need to keep our focus.”

“I’m completely focused,” Y/N replies innocently, though her eyes sparkle with mischief. “I know exactly what I want.”

“And what would that be?” Erik asks with a challenging smile.

Y/N leans back, her eyes moving between Charles and Erik. “That, my dear Magneto, you’ll find out after the mission.”

Wade suddenly jumps in, excitedly waving his hands. “Can I join in? I mean, with whatever you three are planning? Logan can watch!”

“No one is watching anything, Wade,” Logan growls as he turns to give Wade a withering look.

Wade raises his hands and grins. “Okay, okay. But just so you know: I’m always all ears – or more, if you want.”

Y/N rolls her eyes and laughs. “Wade, you’re a walking disaster.”

“I know,” Wade replies proudly. “But a very entertaining disaster.”

Logan snorts and turns back to the facility. “So, what’s the plan? Get in, grab the thing, and get out before one of us loses it?”

“Sounds good,” Charles murmurs, trying to regain his focus. “I can pick up the thoughts of the guards as we get closer. Erik, Y/N, you two stay ready. Wade, Logan, you handle the front security.”

“Sure,” Logan replies, but Wade presses up next to him.

“Oh, partner work! Logan, I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long. Finally, just the two of us, united in the fight against evil. Or maybe just against our inner demons?”

“One more word, Wade,” Logan growls as he walks away, “and I’ll show you what my inner demon looks like.”

Wade laughs loudly. “Sounds hot, big guy! Let me feel your darkness.”

Y/N gives Charles and Erik an exaggeratedly innocent look. “Maybe we should also give Logan and Wade a... workshop. They clearly have tensions that need to be resolved.”

Charles smiles. “Maybe after the mission, Y/N.”

Erik grins as he turns back to the facility. “I’m looking forward to it.”

#x men x reader #x men #charles xavier #charles xavier x reader #erik lehnsherr #erik lehnsherr x reader #cherik x reader #cherik #wolverine #wolverine x reader #deadpool x reader #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #wade x logan #wade wilson

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crooked-wasteland · 3 months ago

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Something that always irked me a little was seeing fans say HB/HH have good queer rep. There’s been other adult/children animated shows that done it better. I think the reason fans say that it has good queer rep is it because they get to see the characters have sex, instead of characters having actual chemistry and good interactions.

No one in HB or HH had good chemistry. Charlie and Vaggie are just nonexistent or they should’ve been a slow burn from friends to lovers and blitz and stolas is the worst mlm ship because they don’t have anything they just have sex, they’re just meaning less sex that have to be a couple.

Husk is an asshole to Angel, he just shits on sex work and guilt trips Angel so he doesn’t take drugs but because Cherri is meant to be seen as the negative influence we’re suppose to take husk side and say no to drugs.

I don’t even consider fizz and Ozzie a relationship because they’re just sugaring, but fizz has a unhealthy codependency on Ozzie who kinda goes along because he gets to have sex with fizz and that too to me sounds like the spirit of lust. Doing immoral actions for you’re own selfish wants and desires. If fizz and Ozzie was rewritten and in the hands of a better writer this could’ve been a thrilling toxic story about a powerful prince of lust manipulating his insecure vulnerable lower class imp plaything and hundreds like him, in the spirit of lust

One of my unpopular opinions is that Elemental had the best examples of queer representation in Ember and Wade. And I am aware Ember and Wade are cis gendered and in a heterosexual dynamic. My point being that representation does not always have to be explicit to be profound or accurate. The movie gives Wade an unconventional form of masculinity that validates a nurturing expression that is stereotyped as inherently queer. Additionally, Ember's lack of identity due to the expectations of her family, father, and culture mirrors the existence of many queer individuals who fail to recognize they are bisexual or even gay due to the implicit pressure placed on them to fulfill the typical roles of their society.

Many people take the story in face value, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with seeing it as a story solely based on race, discrimination, the complexities of coexistence, and interracial love.

However, representation does not have to be explicit. There is absolutely plenty to be argued that by having an openly queer relationship moves to normalize the concept socially, but the unfortunate reality exists that (1) queerness is still inherently othering and you will not be able to normalize the existence of queer people just by shoving them front and centre. If anything, it is interpreted as a threat to the dominating social norm that causes people to reject the concept outright compared to subliminally connecting the ideas and experience of queerness to a more universal norm, building on tools and experiences to help others relate to our existence despite them never being able to truly live it.

And (2) movie-making and media is a business. A very expensive one. So risking hundreds of millions of dollars on explicit queerness that is still extremely fringe in most societies is, frankly, bad business.

The issues in representation for HH and HB comes down to what you said here: weak chemistry and toxic dynamics. These aren't good representations, not because they have these problems, but because these problems are overtly ignored or seen as not issues at all. There are a ton of harmful stereotypes that work in our society to keep queerness from being seen as normal or valid.

"Lesbians aren't real because how can two women ever love each other the way a man can love a woman and vice versa."

"Gay men just think about sex all the time. There is no love in their relationships."

"Bi/Pansexual will just have sex with anything."

"Sex is the highest form of romance and so any deviation from the strictly acceptable expressions of sexuality in society is a threat to love and relationships as a whole."

"Queer people are the result of brain damage through drug abuse."

"Queer people are the result of childhood trauma and/or sexual abuse."

"Who's the woman/wears the pants in the relationship?"

All of these statements are real social perceptions and stereotypes of the queer community which Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss directly contribute to. The narrative and characters adhere to every single one of these ideas at some point or another without ever challenging them and oftentimes reinforces them.

I understand and respect people who don't see Elemental as queer representation just because the characters do conform superficially to heteronormative standards. But just making a character gay doesn't make the story or series queer representation, and these shows definitely don't have good representation.

#queer representation #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel critique #hazbin critical #helluva boss critical #helluva boss critique #helluva boss criticism #anon ask #pixar elemental

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newtonsheffield · 9 months ago

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The first chapter of Head on the Pillow was the perfect way to start that story off! And now I just want more. Is there any way we could get a snippet of something like when Ant gets out of the hospital and Kate is suddenly pushing photogs away from her new companion? Cos I feel like she’d bust someone’s camera lens the second they get to her close to her man.

I think Kate definitely feels protective of Anthony at first. He nearly just died for one. And sure, her therapist is probably thrilled because it’s given them a fresh new stress dream to wade through but it also means that she nearly lost the person she wants to spend the rest of her life with. And that doesn’t feel great.

“We don’t have to do this.”

Anthony huffed as they waited out the front of the hospital for the car to be pulled round, “It was specifically requested. I was given this outfit.”

Kate rolled her eyes, “Well right now I don’t care what the palace wants.”

It had been such an understated announcement at first. The palace describing Anthony as her Protection Agent and Companion in their official statement about his recovery and it had spiraled from there. Just as they’d known it would. The palace’s more official statement about their relationship printed and reprinted with every photo of her that had ever been taken, Anthony in the front, trying to shield her. And now there were hundreds of people waiting for them outside. Waiting to catch their first glimpse of the first official royal couple since her parents had walked out with her between them, holding both their hands.

“You do care. We have to leave through the front door. It’s what Royals do when they leave hospital according to your team.” Anthony sighed, trying to smile and Kate squeezed his hand while she ran her fingers through his hair and under the dark shadows under his eyes.

“I care about you. If this is too much we’ll sneak out the back. I don’t care. My parents won’t either. I’ll tell them it was gusty and I wasn’t wearing underwear.”

Anthony’s eyes narrowed as though she’d caught his attention. “Are you?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Car out front, your highness.” Ronald said from his respectful distance away. “Exiting?”

Anthony nodded,taking a deep breath and gripping her hand tightly, his other arm in a sling. “Exiting.”

Th crows roared as Ronald pushed the doors open and Kate squared her shoulders waving with her free hand as the cameras flashed.

“Kate! Anthony!”

“Anthony! How’d you pull it off?”

“Kate! Any cold feet?!”

“Is it true you’re engaged?!”

“Is it true you married secretly in france last year?!”

Kept kept them moving forward towards the car and Anthony fingers gripped hers in panic as the photographers tried to bustle forward against the security.

She could see the panic in his eyes, not used to being on this side of the attention, people no longer letting their gaze pass through him and she cleared her throat.

“Boys, can you do me a favour?”

“What’s in it for us?!” A photographer called out and Kate laughed playing along.

“I’ll answer all of your questions in a press conference tomorrow. Every sordid detail. I’ll even do an interview for the television.” She could feel the anticipation in them, rising by the second, “But you need to leave Anthony alone while he recovers. I’ve put him through enough and I don’t need you boys scaring him off.”

They stopped pushing, staying in place, the flashes lessening.

“When’s this conference?”

“The palace will be in touch.”

The car door opened and Kate nudged Anthony inside before she followed him, his shoulders relaxing as he squeezed her hand again.

“That was very neatly done.”

Kate shrugged. “Well as attractive as I found you bodying Ken out of the way for me, I can’t do the same thing for you. I have to give a little to get a little.”

“You hate TV interviews.”

Kate shrugged, “I’ll pick someone good. Someone fun.”

“Thank you.” His voice was tiny, as the people flew by outside the window. “I’ll get better at this. I’ll get better and then I can support-”

“You’re perfect.” She leaned over to kiss his temple. “Just like this. I don’t want you to get better at that. That’s the last thing I want.”

“The palace might disagree.”

“I don’t care what the palace wants.”

#head on the pillow au #bodyguard au #kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #molly’s asks and answers

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egotank · 19 hours ago

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Battle Baby

Set during the plane scene in Origins because that scene has a chokehold on us at the moment

Victor got on to the plane with his brother smiling. He enjoyed their line of work sure it was gruesome at times but it thrilled the inner beast in him to sink his claws into something nothing could beat the feeling of that right?

It didn’t take long before he heard their annoyingly talkative teammate Wade speak up.

“You know I love this sword more than anything in the world. You know why that is?”

Wade spoke while sharpening the katana blade.

“No.”

Victor half growls while Logan looks up from having his head between his legs.

“It’s memorable. Sure it’s bulky and hard to get on a plane. But you whip out a couple of swords at your ex-girlfriend's wedding and they will never, ever forget it.”

Victor scoffs.

“That’s funny Wade, I think you confuse me with someone who gives a shit.”

“Right it’s probably not as intimidating as a gun or bone claws or the fingernails of an old bag lady.”

Victor gives Wade a threatening smile extending his claws a bit ready to attack the annoying man across from him.

“Manicure?”

Wade asks, taking out his classic baby knife.

“Victor. Easy.”

Logan spoke up through gritted teeth. It was in that moment that Victor felt a strange protective pull he could tell his brother was not just uncomfortable from flying but he was feeling much more off. Logan was regressed and far from being battle ready. He growls a bit when Wade goes to talk to Logan.

“Aww does the Honey Badger not like flying?”

Wade asks as the plane goes to land.

“If we were meant to fly we would grow wings.”

Logan mumbles.

“Don’t worry Nancy, more people die driving than they do flying.”

Agent Zero spoke with a joking tone that sort of leaves a sour taste in Victor’s mouth. Oh how he wants to rip the smile off of that guy's face cause no one makes jokes about Jimmy's fears but him.

“Jimmy ease up a bit.”

Victor’s voice sounds in Logan’s ear trying to get the younger feral to relax.

“I’m here, I ain't going nowhere. I’ll tear anything and anyone apart before I ever go anywhere without you.”

He keeps speaking in the younger’s ear to get him to stop clawing at the seat. Logan just gives a low growl in response he is far too terrified right now to listen to reasoning but he also wants Victor or hell he’ll even take Wade’s excessive yapping anything to keep his mind off of the fact they are thousands of feet off the ground.

“M not scared Vic back off.”

Despite his words his bone claws come out and he grips the seat tighter.

“I got you baby brother.”

Victor spoke, placing a hand on Logan’s shoulder rubbing soft circles into the younger's shoulder.

“That’s it, focus on me and ignore everything else.”

Victor kept speaking as he watched how the fear and tense slowly left the other the more he spoke. The instant the plane hit the ground Logan was the first to bolt off of it.

“Jimmy slow down!!”

Victor commanded, to which the other’s on the plane saw that Logan surprisingly listened, slowing down and letting the older feral wrap him up in a hug.

“You good now Jimmy? Is my little wolf okay?”

Victor asked him very quietly and he waited for a nod before letting go and letting Logan complete the mission at hand.

#xmen #xmen origins #wolverine #logan howlett #little logan #sabretooth #victor creed #caregiver victor creed #deadpool #wade wilson #xmen agere #agere #sfw littlespace #agere little #agere caregiver #agere community #anti agere dni

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brightlight-dazzlingeyes · 2 days ago

Text

better when we're together | lewis hamilton

🌊 synopsis: You've known Lewis for a few months now, with the two of you sharing the same passion for surfing. When he invites you for a day at the beach, you don’t think much of it, but that’s the day you two cross the line between friendship and something more. tags: friends-to-lovers, summer vibes, suggestive-but not explict. (written in 2nd person but no mention of yn) (around 1.8k words)

part 1

The sand stretches under the sun, shimmering so bright it doesn't quite look real. Everything is warm, soft, like you’ve stepped into a scene from a movie. People all around you are living in the moment, soaking up the sun, salt, and sky, their laughter drifting over the waves.

You and Lewis park close to the shore, you grab your boards from the back of the car, and exchange a smile before you both fall into a familiar routine. You check the waves, stretch your arms, give each other a nod. Just a quick look at the water tells you it’s perfect today: long, slow waves, with just enough height to keep things interesting.

Closing your eyes, you let the warmth of the sand and sun sink into your skin. When you open them, Lewis is watching you, his eyes half-closed in a lazy, comfortable way.

“You good?” he asks, grinning as he balances his board under his arm and looks out over the water. “Told you, didn’t I? I know all the best spots.”

You hadn’t expected to feel this happy, but with Lewis, everything feels right. There’s no hurry, no thinking about what’s next. He has this way of making things easy.

The ocean’s gentle today, rolling in with soft, lazy swells. You wade in, feeling the cool water lap against your legs, sending a pleasant shiver up your spine. You glance over at Lewis, who catches your look.

“Cold?” he asks, raising an eyebrow, his voice all tease.

You barely have time to respond before he’s splashing you. You yelp, laughing, and splash him back without hesitation, both of you clinging to your surfboards as you splash each other like kids. He closes the distance, reaching out to steady himself, his hand brushing against your arm. The ocean seems to hold its breath and the soft, endless lapping of waves is the only sound around you.

His gaze lingers, flicking down to your lips for a second too long. Then he clears his throat, breaking the tension with a playful smile. “Don’t drift too far,” he says. “I’d have to come rescue you.”

“Pretty sure I can handle myself out there,” you reply, though your voice comes out softer than you intended. You don’t move away from his hand, even as it lingers on your shoulder, warm and steady.

You both fall silent, just floating on your boards in the ocean’s rhythm, letting the waves carry you in their slow, steady pulse. It’s comfortable, a silence that doesn’t need to be filled.

Eventually, Lewis breaks it, his voice low, like he’s letting you in on a secret. “You know, I thought about asking you to come here with me sooner,” he murmurs, watching you carefully, as if he’s looking for something in your reaction.

You look at him. “Why didn’t you?”

He shrugs, looking away to the horizon with a faint smile. “Figured you’d brush it off. Like usual.”

“Well, I’m here now,” you say, meeting his eyes. The openness between you feels easy, natural.

You spot a perfect wave forming in the distance and can’t resist. Taking it as your cue, you flash him a grin and paddle out, ready to show off a bit.

As you go on, the sun glints off the water, you dig deep with each stroke, feeling a thrill rise up in your chest. There’s a weightless moment when the board tips forward, and then you’re up, legs bending instinctively as you find your balance.

The wave moves under you, lifting you higher, and everything feels like it’s in perfect sync – the board, the water, the warm pull of the ocean against your skin. You carve along the wave, letting the salt spray around you as you lean into each movement, every small shift carrying you effortlessly forward. You spot Lewis watching from the shallows, his eyes fixed on you, and you can’t help but feel a little pride at showing off.

part 2

Back at the rented house, you’re both sprawled on opposite couches, quiet and still, letting the warmth of the day sink into your skin. The salt from the ocean lingers in your hair, and your muscles carry that pleasant ache from hours of surf and sun. With your eyes closed, you feel a smile tug at your lips, a contented sigh slipping out of you.

And then it hits you – that strange, lingering sensation, like you’re still out there on the waves. The steady rise and fall, the gentle push and pull of the ocean. Even though you’re here, on solid ground, you can feel it, as if the sea left its rhythm in your bones. It’s like a memory woven into your muscles, and it makes you feel weightless, floating.

“This is the best feeling in the world,” you murmur, the words slipping out without even realizing it.

You don’t expect a reply, but across from you, you hear a soft rustle, and then Lewis’s voice, low and closer than you thought. “Not the best, no,” he says, his tone teasing, playful. “I know something better.”

Your eyes flicker open, just enough to catch him watching you. He shifts, moving slowly, abandoning his couch to settle beside you. There’s something different in his eyes, a longing, a question.

"I can show you," he whispers, his voice low, with just a hint of desire. "If you want."

You don’t move, barely even breathe, taking in the way he’s looking at you. Everything else fades, leaving just the two of you, close and quiet in the room. He shifts a little closer, never breaking eye contact, and there’s something about the way he’s watching you that feels familiar but also like it’s brand new.

Your heart picks up a little, warmth spreading through you, and suddenly everything else seems distant, your thoughts narrowing to the sound of your breathing, to the closeness between you.

He’s been flirting with you since the day you met, with little compliments, teasing comments; but right now, it’s different.

You finally break the silence, barely above a whisper, "What’s better than this?"

He leans in slightly, his voice even lower now, the teasing edge gone. "There are things I want to do with you," he says, his eyes holding yours with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. "I know I can make you feel good." His words are slow, deliberate. "Do you want me to tell you, or do you want me to show you?"

The way he says it, so casual yet charged, leaves you momentarily speechless. Your breath catches, and for a second, you wonder if this is real – if he's really saying what you think he's saying.

You can’t help but think back to the beach, the rhythm of the waves building up beneath you, that same quiet tension just before they break. It’s the calm before something, you’re not sure what – but you feel it, rising under your skin, that same anticipation.

You try to push it down, keep it casual, but the words slip out anyway. "You're arrogant," you say, hoping to slash at him, to deflect the way he’s toying with your mind.

He smirks, eyes never leaving yours. “No,” he says, “I’m really that good.”

You’ve always been brave, always been adventurous. It’s in the way you chase bigger waves, pushing yourself to go farther, to do more. It’s that same drive, that same need to feel something, anything, even if it’s just for a moment, that makes you reach for him.

Before you even think twice, you grab him by the neck, pulling him toward you. Your lips find his, hungry and urgent, the kiss catching both of you off guard. It’s passionate, messy, full of that same energy that’s been building between you all day.

It’s all just raw, unfiltered need – no thinking, no over-analyzing. Just the heat of the moment, the pull of something you can’t resist.

The heat of his lips, the taste of him, it’s intoxicating. Every part of you that’s been holding back, waiting, all comes crashing down. It’s wild, it’s urgent, and it feels so damn good.

You let your hands wander, feeling the strength of his shoulders beneath your touch. His hands find your waist, pulling you closer, and you can feel his heartbeat, steady and strong.

And then, without warning, he stops. There’s a split second where you think you’ve crossed a line, but the way he’s looking at you makes you catch your breath. He brushes his thumb over your bottom lip, gentle, almost reverent, afraid to break the moment.

"God," he murmurs, his forehead resting lightly against yours. "You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this."

His voice is softer, less teasing now, his words hang in the air between you like a confession. You don’t know what to say, how to tell him you’ve been feeling the same pull, that you’re just as surprised. So instead, you just close your eyes, leaning into him, breathing him in.

There’s a shift in his posture, his touch growing more deliberate, more careful. The earlier rush of adrenaline slows down. He kisses you again, slower this time, savoring every second like it’s a promise, not a demand.

You feel the room spinning, not from dizziness, but from the sheer thrill of giving in. It’s overwhelming how quickly the energy shifts. Your breath mingles with his, the closeness blurring everything except for the feel of his body pressed against yours.

You lose track of time – seconds, minutes, maybe hours – letting yourself get lost in the rhythm of it.

His hands find your face, holding it gently but firmly, and they feel so big, enveloping you. He kisses you deeply, the kind of kiss that sends heat through every part of you, and suddenly, the room feels like it's tilting. The sensation of passion mingles with the memory of the waves; your bodies start moving with that same rhythm, swaying together like you’re back in the ocean. You can almost hear the waves crashing, and you feel yourself melting under him.

He senses your body tremble, and he pulls back, breaking the kiss just to taunt you, his breath hot against your skin. “Told you,” he says, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Told you I could make you feel good.”

He trails his lips down your neck, biting gently, and you shudder. His mouth finds your ear, and he whispers between kisses, “Tell me this is better. Tell me I was right.”

“I’ll tell you anything,” you breathe. You’re completely surrendered by this point, your mind hazy with the heat of the moment, every inch of you craving more.

“I’ll tell you anything,” you repeat, quieter this time, feeling the urgency coiling tight in your chest. “As long as you keep touching me.”

He doesn't say anything, just brushes his lips over yours again, giving you exactly what you asked for.

#lewis hamilton x reader #f1 fanfic #lewis hamilton #f1 imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #brightlightwrites

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