#and wilson... oh fuck it all of them did

[mikeysgerard]

Happy 5th birthday to one of the most amazing records of all time. Mania means so much to me, and I associate it with such a special time in my life.

Thank you for creating this beautiful, crazy, fantastic, breathtaking, insane, purple universe, Fall Out Boy. Forever grateful. 💜

[mariatesstruther]

okay more on jackson’s senior center based off this post:

- it started as just miss shirley and her best friend darla wanting to live together and asking maria if she could maybe find a house for them to settle in together instead of living apart

- before this, mama shirley and darla would have to walk five houses each way to see each other for afternoon tea, which just won’t do. mama shirley is 92 and darla is 90 now, and both of them are too old to be have to walking that much everyday, mama shirley tells maria. she quickly and vehemently agrees

- maria has the idea of fixing a house up for jackson’s senior citizens to live in if they’d like to. it takes a lot of unnecessary convincing to get the council to dedicate one of jackson’s best houses to a maximum of five people, but maria gets it done. they pick one of the few houses that are placed in the farther back part of jackson, near the farm and the daycare center, so that it can be far-reaching from the entrance of jackson

- the first people to movie in are shirley and darla, who share a room on the second floor (thanks to tommy replacing the stairs in the house with a reliable ramp with a wall-attached handlebar)

- gary moves in not long after he breaks his left hip while herding the goats. he likes that the house is designed to be wheel-chair access and far away from most people in town. he also likes it because he can be close to darla, who he has feelings for, but nobody knows about that except for tommy and joel

- mr. wilson moves in on maria’s insistence that he’ll get hurt if he continues to live alone and try to do everything himself. his name is harold, but he insists that anyone younger than him calls him mr. wilson on account of maintaining a respectful distance. he’s a grumpy, gruff old asshole that reminds joel more of bill than bill himself, but he’s also known to do anything and everything maria tells him with only a small amount of grumbling. somehow, she convinces him to move in after he accidentally sets his kitchen on fire trying to make himself a pocketknife (which?????? maria still doesn’t have an answer for????? why harold was trying to do that????)

- last but not least is sandra dee, jackson’s oldest and most enigmatic member. nobody really knows where she came from or what her story is: she’s the only one of jackson’s seniors that managed to get to town on her own, arriving to town at 94 about a year after its founding with nothing but a backpack and three handguns. she clamed to be sandra, but they’re not entirely sure if sandra dee is her real name. she hums songs from musicals all the time and has expressed that grease was always her favorite. at least once a month she requests to go hunting with patrol and gets mad when maria tells her no

- senior center tea: shirley and darla have longstanding beef with sandra dee because she always cheats at cards during game night, shirley knows about gary being sweet on darla but is lowkey jealous about it because SHE is sweet on darla, and everyone thinks mr. wilson has a thing for maria but he actually told her in confidence last month that he is actually sweet on gary. mama shirley and mr. wilson can’t STAND each other

- tommy calls the seniors the jackson five. all of them call him thomas. he and joel bring them all basic living supplies at least once a week, but are known to be around there pretty often

tsym for anyone having interest in this pls feel free to add anything u want!!

tagging :))) @clickergossip @nerdieforpedro @mrsmando @callmekittenandyourmajesty @steeb-stn (ty for the idea of putting it next to the daycare!) @thatoneobsessedlinguist-writes

[itsbrucey]

If I got a DnDads tattoo would that be peak cringe or-

[loverboybrightsideghost]

shoutout to me and my private house md sideblog from july 2022 that i made before the house renaissance when i was really embarrassed to post abt it on my main blog and thought people would think it was weird i would be obsessed with such a show <333

[eupheme]

— double the pleasure, triple the fun

[part iii of come on and show me | masterlist]

logan howlett x f!reader x wade wilson

rated e - 5.6k

tags: MMF threesome, mutual pining/crushes all around, dirty talk, poly relationship, multi-tasking, the world's worst romantic porposition, oral sex, vaginal fingering, ass play (fingering & rimming), double penetration, creampies, fluff and feelings

a/n: massive thank you to the wonderfully talented @avocado-writing, who kindly beta'd this for me! 💖

“Are you asking me out?” It comes slowly, in a rough rasp. 

It’s you that turns then, your eyes finding his. Your smile is sweet - a swirling heat of hope in your belly, “Depends on your answer.”

There’s something dark in his eyes. A curl of his lips, as his head dips. A kiss pressed against your spine, then lower. 

“Come on Wilson.” Logan husks, “Let’s get our girl ready.”

(Or, your two becomes three.)

“God, I want him to put a baby in me.”

Wade’s sigh rumbles beneath your ear, where your head cradles against his chest. 

Legs entwined as you stretch out together on the couch - a late-night wind-down after your boyfriend spent the evening picking out his To-Do List at Sister Margaret's.

To kill. Not fuck, apparently. Something he was quick to clarify.

“What are you watching?” Your eyes pull away from your own phone - seventeen chapters into an enemies-to-lovers slow burn you haven’t been able to put down all evening. 

A little stretch, as your head tilts to face him - knuckles propped under your chin, “That video has been looping for like, ten minutes.”

“And yet, still not long enough,” He sighs, flashing the screen at you, “Sir Mix-a-Lot, you never miss.”

The video flickers, a quick and skillful transition of clips - your eyes squinting at the screen from your angle.

“Is that... Logan?”

“Close, baby girl.” His finger boops against your nose, “Huge Ackman.”

There’s a little shake of your head, as your shoulder lifts, “I don’t know who that is.”

“And thank god,” He grins, letting the phone drop onto the cushions. A shift, as his hands dips against the small of your back, “If you did, you would divorce me so fast-“

Your eyes roll, as you bite back a grin, “I wouldn’t.”

“Definitely, maybe.”

Wade grunts as you push yourself with a huff - head dipping to press your lips against his. A low swirl in your belly, as his eyes go soft and his smile goes dopey. 

“I love you, Wade Winston Wilson,” You grin back, “New fake boyfriends and all, apparently.”

He hums, head tilting.

“And what about not-so-fake boyfriends?”

Your brow furrows.

“You are talking about Logan now, right?”

Wade’s knuckles brush your cheek, the humor in his eyes turning searching, “What do you think?”

And what a question it is. 

You’ve talked about it often. The occasional partner had cycled in for a night or two, but there had never been someone that struck you both like Logan had, arriving in your lives like a storm of thunder and lightning.

And you can’t deny that there’s feelings. Obvious ones, apparently, with how you acted in the past. Wade was still teasing you about your jealousy - you never had a handle on that emotion in the way he did. 

That innate knowledge of how he felt about someone, trusted them. Flirting was easy, but you’ve seen the way he looks at Logan, too.

It was different. Special.

“Two musketeers becoming the full set,” He holds his fingers up in front of you, two and then three, “Only unlike them, we’re fucking.”

You let out a sound of dissent, with the lift of a shoulder. 

“Oh, worm?” His brow raises, “Guess Disney wasn’t ready for that, either. Dibs on the religious one, then. I am a man of the cloth.”

“It’s a bad analogy, there’s four of them.”

He chuckles indulgently, “Okay, now I think you’re making things up-“

Now it’s your hand reaching, a finger tapping against his lips.

“I’d like that. I think Logan being our… boyfriend-” The word sends a rush of heat to your face as you stutter over it, Wade’s eyes gleaming.

“Oh my god, you are so fucking cute.” He crows, “We’ve fucked nasty-style and you can’t even say boyfriend-”

Your face buried in his chest, his name a muffled whine. A beat as the laughter still rumbles in his chest, before you peek at him.

“Do you think he wants that, too?”

“Oh, absolutely.” Wade hums, “That man is at least a 6 on the Yearning Richter scale. Felt by all, many frightened.”

You brighten at that prospect - your brain is already slipping ahead, “Do you think we should like, plan something? Ask him together?”

“Oh, don’t worry, gorgeous.” Wade grins.

“I’ll handle it.”

It's strange, seeing Logan in your space.

A good strange. A strange that feels nice - the subtle sweep of his eyes, as he takes in your apartment. The bag slung over his shoulder already tucked in your room, set on the ottoman at the foot of your bed.

He fits in, you think. Tucked into your couch as you put the finishing touches on dinner. Too used to being in their shared space at Wade’s. Of stolen moments when Althea was out. Hushed moments when she was home, muffled moans and bitten-back sighs.  

It will be nice to be able to take your time. 

They had arrived together, and there had been a certain thrill to that, too. 

Wade's knock that mimics the opening beats of "Smooth", before the door burst open. Funny to think about them crammed in a car together - they took Althea's, Wade tells you, when you later asked if they'd walked.

How he was already turning to you to referee, as you tip your head to kiss his cheek. 

"All I'm asking is if we're both sheathing our swords in the same scabbard, then why is he getting his panties in a twist about me putting my clothes in his bag?"

"Ignore him, sweetheart," Logan softens, leaning into the matching kiss you press against his jaw, "Been doing that for the last two months. It's good to see you."

And it is. Good to see both of them, something warm glowing bright in your chest.

The round table that always felt a little big for two feels perfect now - tucking between each other as dinner passes in a warm jumble of savory aromas and comfortable conversation. 

Smiling at the way they're both as engaged with your stories about your day, as you are about the work they've been doing together.

"-absolutely vaporized. It was disgusting, babe." Wade grimaces, "I was fine of course. Red, and all. But Lo here, eeugh. Still scrubbing the blood out of the nooks and crannies."

Logan makes a grunt of acknowledgement, "Had worse."

"Worse? Worse than getting gut-mist blasted across your chest?"

"I'll help, if you want." You offer, "Haven't seen your new suit yet."

At Wade's request, you try to keep out of his business - other than the stories he shares, the occasional repairs of his suit. Doesn't want his life mixing, not after what's happened in the past. 

Dutiful boyfriend by day, mercenary by night. And also sometimes, by day. Evenings, weekends.

It’s an unsteady schedule, but it's one you've grown accustomed to. Maybe that’s what helps make this easy, the way you’ve already adjusted to mutant-regenerative-boyfriend-life. 

But it doesn't mean you're not curious. That you don't appreciate certain aspects - especially when they come in tightly wrapped in leather and lycra. 

And when you eventually rise to collect dishes, it's Logan that beats you to it. A finger sternly pointed towards the couch, Wade's hand at your back - already guiding you towards it, as you protest.

"Least we can do, sweetheart," Logan smiles, "Can't remember the last time I had a meal this good."

"Excuse me," Wade gasps, as he slips on elbow-length mis-matched gloves,"Did my midnight toaster strudels mean nothing to you?"

It's your turn now, to sit on the couch. To watch, as Wade supervises. The quiet talk that swiftly turns to bickering. A yelp and a splash of hot water, before he's retreating.

Sinking down on the seat next to you, as your thoughts swirl. Soft memories of past shared evenings, and the planting of something that you’ll tend to carefully, hoping it will flourish. 

"You're looking at him like he's got balls on his neck," Wade’s arm slings around your shoulders, tone knowing, "Got something on your mind, gorgeous?"

Your nose wrinkles at the visual, but then you turn thoughtful.

"Just like seeing both of you here." Your smile is soft, "It feels right, you know?"

He hums in agreement, and you glance his way, "Do you feel that way too?"

"Feels as right as Ryan Reynolds playing me in my upcoming biopic."

That has you cocking an eyebrow - whatever reference he's making flying over your head, "And that's... good?"

"Yeah, baby." He grins.

"Really fucking good." 

The hunger follows you into the bedroom, after. Your question about dessert gets swiftly turned around on you - hands catching at your waist. 

Threats and promises  to devour you instead - that the ice cream you bought can wait - as lips press against yours. Another mouth at your neck, in your slow and often-interrupted journey to the bedroom. 

Ganging up on you again, almost as if it were planned. 

And you’re not sure if it was, or whether they’ve unconsciously become more in-sync, between their hours together at the apartment and in their work. 

More alike than they are different, at their core - something you’re not sure you’d be able to convince them of, even though you see it.

It’s sweetly familiar, when you finally fall into bed together. Clothes already stripped off, a messy pile mixing together against the woven floral rug as you fit together. 

Spit pools on Logan’s tongue, as he sucks on his teeth. A low tilt of his head before his lips are parting, letting it drop where he has your thighs nudged apart, belly pressed down against the bed.

Warm, where it hits the cleft of your ass. His hand follows - a broad palm curving against soft skin, tugging you open. 

“What do I have to do to let me have you here?” Logan’s thumb smears his spit against the tight ring, voice low and honey-smooth. 

It makes you jolt, a soft sound pulling from your throat. Squirming, as his thumb comes back - rolling the pad against you. 

“She, shit-” Wade groans, as your mouth leaves his cock - the tip glistening as it drops against his belly, “Only lets people she’s dating fuck her ass.”

“Wade!” You whine, as your thighs try to close - Logan’s spreading to keep you open. 

A low rasp of a laugh, “Is that right?”

“Not me though. If you’re curious.” Wade hums, his arm still slung under the pillow, “Sometimes even a first date is too slow.”

Dark eyes drag up, to the shift of hips. Over the leaking cock, lying flushed and hard against Wade’s belly - something like hunger in the slow sweep up to the pulled-wide grin.

“This is you handling it?” You hiss.

“You’re acting like the man invented the elevator.” Wade shrugs - shifting to push himself up on an elbow, “Trust me, there is nothing more romantic than a ‘what are we’ conversation slipped into a discussion about double penetration. We’re multi-tasking, gorgeous.”

Some of the tension eases, with the way he smiles at you. There’s not an ounce of worry in his expression, only the dark shadow of desire, highlighted with humor. 

Waiting until you smile back, before he fixes Logan with a pointed look. 

“Look. I’m gonna level with you,” He sighs, as if divulging something imperative, ”Until you’re ready to commit to being Mr. Y/L/N, then fifth base is just gonna be out of the question.”

There’s the shake of a head, a low huff behind you. The slight stroke of fingers against your skin.

“Are you asking me out?” It comes slowly, in a rough rasp. As if putting pieces together. 

It’s you that turns then, your eyes finding his. Your smile is sweet - a swirling heat of hope in your belly, “Depends on your answer.”

There’s something dark in his eyes. A curl of his lips, as his head dips.

A kiss pressed against your spine, then lower. 

“Come on Wilson.” He husks, “Let’s get our girl ready.”

A moan rips from you. First, from his words - the jolting butterflies in your belly, a pooling warmth. The sound lengthening, as his tongue flattens where his fingers had teased. Your back arches as Wade pumps his fist, before throwing a filthy “I-Told-You-So” smirk your way.

It glances off you. Your fingers curled in the sheets, as Logan shoulders your thighs further apart. A wet swipe that travels from your cunt to your hole, smearing your slick and his spit against your skin. 

A finger nudging against you, as Wade leans - hand fumbling for the handle of the bedside table. 

“You think you can take both of us?” Logan purrs, as he carefully works you open. A fingertip sinking inside you, as you whine. 

”What, you think we were joking about role-playing?” Wade scoffs,”Why did you think all the dinner knives were missing? Lost ‘em all beneath the bed.”

There’s a shuffle, as he works himself further beneath you. A bottle of lube dropped on the bedspread, as his fingers reach - petting against your clit.

“Tried two before, didn’t we gorgeous? Me and the Pulverine, as we call him.” Wade coos, “Not as big as you, of course. But definitely a lot more sparkly.” 

“Toy’s not the same thing,” Logan hums, as you clench around him. Sinking deeper, slowly pumping, “‘s gonna be a tight fit, baby.”

The sensations are already overwhelming. Wade’s fingers slipping down - fitting one, and then two fingers inside your slick pussy. His thumb nudging against your clit, teasing.

Logan’s weight against you, shifting as his hips grind into the mattress. The messy swirl of his tongue, more spit added to the mess. His thick finger already feels like a lot, pressed down to the knuckle. Slow in the way he works you open, the hot embers in your belly roaring brighter.

“I want it.” You moan, “Want both of you.” 

Wanted it for a while now. Wondered if they’d take you like this. If you’d be able to take them, stuffed so full you could barely draw breath. Wanting to know what it feels like to come, with both of them pressed to the hilt inside you. 

Words fail you, soon after. There’s the cold smear of lube against your skin, a second finger notched. Your cry muffled with the press of Wade’s lips, tilting your face to his as their fingers find their rhythm together.

That steady swirl against your clit. How you’re clenching around them, your arousal slick on Wade’s palm. The sharp rhythmic slap ringing through your ears as you pant into his mouth. Logan’s teeth against the soft curve of your ass, a muffled groan as he fits a second inside you. 

It’s a mimicry of later, but it’s enough. Something bright burning in your belly, fueled by their desire. Hot breath against your skin, Wade’s cock grinding into your hip. 

“Come on, gorgeous.” He murmurs against you, “Let me feel you come with his fingers buried in your ass.”

You choke on your moan. Hips shifting, pushing one deeper and then the other as you chase the building high. The sharp stretch long spooling into pleasure, twisting around your guts, shimmering. 

“‘m gonna-” It’s breathed out, your eyes screwing shut. Focused on the countdown  that’s begun inside you, swiftly approaching with each crook of their fingers, “Fuck, I’m-”

Logan shifts, his breath ghosting against your spine, “Come for us, sweetheart.”

For us. 

Your face buries against Wade’s shoulder, as they bring you over the edge together. Working in tandem to take you apart, and they haven’t even really begun - fingers crooking and curling as a bright pleasure blooms in your belly. 

Wade had been right - it’s not the first time you’ve been full like this. But Logan was right, too. It’s different - the way you can feel them move together, as you whine. The orgasm ripples through you, the sensations drawing out as kisses are dropped between your shoulder blades. 

Soft crooning in your ear, but it’s all muted - barely aware of the palms that run across your skin. The press of mouths against your heated skin - until the pulses in your core fades, the room coming back into focus. 

They slip from you - first Wade, and then Logan. You’ve felt empty before but never like this, already missing the weight inside you. Craving more.

There’s a shift on the bed, Logan shouldering himself next to Wade, who you’re still stretched out on. 

“C’mere, baby. Fuck, need to feel you.”

Hand at your hips, coaxing you up. Encouraging you to straddle his thighs, but then Wade is tsking - reaching for you, trying to turn you around.

“Annnd I just gave myself a promotion to Director,” He adds with a long-suffering sigh, “When you want something done right, gotta do it yourself.”

Logan growls, as your weight leaves him, “The fuck you talking about?”

Wade’s brow arches, “The fuck I’m talking about is you doing this all wrong, peanut. When was the last time you partook in the devil’s threeway? Was it this century, at least?”

Hand gentle as he guides you to face away from Logan, your ass settling against the cradle of his hips.

“There you go,” He coos, “How am I going to give your pretty little kitty the attention she deserves if you have her all hidden away?”

Logan’s hard cock nestles against your belly, as your knees press into the mattress. Breath hitching as you gauge the size of him again. Hoping that the prep he did was enough - the soft buzz beneath your skin certainly has you feeling more than ready.

Slicking your fingers with more lube before they wrap around his shaft - a rough hiss sliding from his throat as they circle around, squeezing. Smearing it against swollen flesh, thumbing over the leaking head as you line yourself up. 

Wade shifting to watch, his head tilted against Logan’s shoulder, his fist already wrapped around his cock as you start to slowly sink down. 

“Sit on it, sweetheart, there you go.” Logan growls, as he breaches you. 

A sharp, inhaled breath as the tip sinks inside you. The building pressure and then the give - as you try not to clench down.

Pulling a rough sound from him. Fingers twitching at your hips - set on only steadying you. A rough edge creeping into his soft encouragement, “Nice and easy, baby.”

Another inch, but it feels like double. Sweat beading along the nape of your neck, as you stretch around him.

“Doing so good,” He rasps, “Take it slow.”

“Taking it like a fucking champ, baby.” Wade interjects, “Couldn’t have done it better myself, and Levy knows how often I thought about it.”

Your nails bite into his thighs, but it only makes his hips flex. Twin moans when it nudges him the rest of the way - your breath stolen when he’s seated flush inside you.

Not that different than when Wade’s fucked you, even with the length he’s got on Logan. But it’s the girth that has your lips parting - a ragged moan with the experimental roll of your hips.

“Pretty fucking sight.” Logan groans, through gritted teeth. Palms slipping around, gently tugging you back towards his chest.

His growl low in your ear, as his hips lift in an experiment thrust.

“Gonna stuff you full, gonna let us do the work.” He husks, a hissed breath when you clench around him. “Make you feel good, alright?”

Palming at your tits, as Wade shifts into position. Swallowing your begging, whined out “please-” as he kisses down your throat. 

Over your breasts. The back of Logan’s hand, against the curve of your belly. His fist still working at his cock, an audible moan of appreciation when he settles between Logan’s thighs.

“You look so good full of him.” It’s mumbled out against your hip, “God, I want to jerk off to this and let you use my cum as lube.”

Logan’s fingers tighten - pinching a peaked nipple as you moan, as kisses are peppered against your mound.

“Fuck us into your tight ass.”

You cry out, when his tongue flattens against your clit. Fingers teasing at your hole, dipping inside to test how full you feel. 

“Soaking wet, baby. You feeling good?” Wade croons, “Or does your greedy little pussy need more?”

“Wade,” You keen, desperate. Rocking into the slow pump of Logan’s hips, his breath harsh in your ear.

His fingers crook, and curl.

“You want us to take you there and back again to pound town?” 

“I swear to god,” You pant, desperate, “If you don’t get inside me, I’ll-, I’ll call Nate.”

His eyes gleam, “That right? Still thinking about riding the ol’ Cable car?”

It’s Logan’s added growl that finally gets him moving. A smile still pulling wide, as he slips from you. His own desperation betrayed by the wet smear against his belly.

The slick tip of his cock, as he ruts against your folds. Your breath held, as he notches himself.

His dark eyes on your blown-wide ones, as he starts to sink in. It has your thighs trembling, as you whine. Clenching down without meaning to, as Logan groans.

Feeling the way he inches into you. What little space left filled as your pussy makes room for him. The tight clutch of your walls, a moan at the way he can feel Logan through the thin layer of skin between them.

A choked-out moan punched from his chest. 

“Made to take us both. Weren’t you, gorgeous?” He murmurs, as his hips move, “Goddamn perfect fit.”

They both move inside you. Stilted thrusts, off rhythm as you squirm between them. Logan getting impatient - throwing a glare Wade’s way.

“Stop moving when I do.”

It’s met with a laugh, as Wade’s hip snap a little harder. Filling you, the force jolting you against Logan, as your nails bite into his biceps.

“I’m driving this thing.” He counters, “Call me Sandra Bullock, because I’m not about to let this bus dip below 50.”

His hand catching Logan’s wrist - resistance when he tugs, but then it’s going with him. Fitting the curve of his fingers against the base of your throat.

“You do what you do best and be the anchor. Keep her still for me, will you?” 

Logan’s fingers flex, but he grunts - the slightest pressure against your chest. 

A pat against your hip, with a wink, “Let Daddypool do all the work.”

You huff, but the sound turns strangled as the sets the pace. Hands at your hips, tugging you to meet his thrusts. Fucking you back on to Logan, when his weight presses into you.

“There we fucking go. How you feeling, baby?”

“Feels so good,”You gasp, as the movement gets familiar. The slick slide of them inside you, the back and forth as they stroke your walls, as your arousal gleams against their cocks. 

“Know it does.” Wade grins, “They don’t call me DP for nothing.”

Logan grunts beneath you. Something biting held back - distracted, as his other hand wanders. Slipping across your hip, then down.

Tracing over your mound. Feather-light against your folds, feeling how you stretch open each time Wade goes balls-deep. 

Your moan coming out ragged, when he teases your clit. Soft strokes with the pad of his finger, before two press and circle.

It makes you jolt, his laugh low in your ear.

Finding that familiar rhythm. Feeling the way your hips flex, seeking out his touch. How easily he’s able to wind you up now, from the times he’s taken you apart. 

How it’s almost overwhelming, with the stuffed-full pressure of them inside you. With the saw of Wade’s hips, as his cock nudges against the spongy spot inside you.

A rough hum when you clench down. Unable to do more than take what he gives you, with the way Logan cradles you against his chest.

It only adds to the surge of pleasure inside you. A near-divine pairing of sensations that has your fingers reaching, Wade’s name a soft cry on your lips. 

He flattens against you, to meet the way your mouth tips up. It’s messy, open-mouthed as his hips slow to a grind. Hands skating up your body, against hips and waist.

Letting him in when he deepens it. A groan as he licks against your teeth. Needy presses of his mouth, spit smeared across your lips when it breaks. Another kiss  peppered against your jaw, where Logan groans into your ear. 

A unconscious shift of his head, and then their lips are brushing.

Logan’s cock throbs inside you, as Wade goes stiff and still. It’s softer than it should be - no more than a shared breath, before Wade pulls back. 

The hand at your neck flexes. Loosens, as it slips between you. Wrapping around the back of Wade’s neck as he yanks him back down.

A growled out “fuck” when they meet again, insistant this time. Vicious with the scrape of teeth, the wet swipe of tongue as Logan’s nails bite into skin.

Messy, as they pant into each other's mouths. Calloused fingers drifting down from your clit to split against your folds. Teasing where you’re filled, as Wade’s moan turns filthy.

A matching sound escaping from Logan, long held back. 

“Fucking holding out on me,” Wade mumbles, when the kiss breaks, “Haven’t been this wet since Cap’s beard reveal.”

Eyes dark, when he feels how Logan moves inside you. Forgetting himself, as he chases the pleasure that threatens to peak inside him.

“Bet you love knowing you’ve been in all of our girl’s holes. Don’t you, handsome?” Wade grins. Eyes still watchful - catching the clench of a jaw, as his lips return to yours.

The kiss is sweeter this time, even as he begins to drive into you. Each of your breaths coming in a whining gasp, pleasure once again winding inside you.

His mouth running away from him, determined to send you both over, ”Should let me into some of yours. You know I’d treat you right.”

“Shut the fuck up. C-Can’t come with you running your mouth.” It’s panted out - half-hearted at best, and Wade’s eyes gleam.

“Fucking liar.” He crows, “Bet you jerk it all the time to the thought of us screaming your name.”

Voice pitches up then, in a mimicry of yours, “Oh, Logan. Fuck me right there with your monster dick-”

Logan strings tight beneath you with a snarl, as he tries to bury himself in your ass. The hand at your neck dipping to grasp at your hip, as the practiced rhythm turns sloppy.

Wade shifts - his weight leaned into your hips. Pinning you both down as he fucks into you, stroke after stroke.  

Logan’s touch is sloppy against your clit - but with the way your boyfriend’s cock pounds against that spot inside you, it’s enough.

You don’t even realize you’re whimpering. The way their names string together, the “please, please, please-” that catches in your throat.  

“You gonna come too, baby?” He coos - thrilled, “You’re both so fucking easy, aren’t you?”

Logan moans in your ear when you squeeze around him, fingers pressing harder. A little faster, and with the next plunge of Wade’s cock - you shatter. 

It’s all white noise, the faded star stickers on the ceiling becoming swirling the sky above as you’re pulled under. 

Helpless, with the way you’re pinned between them. Coming again with the tight swirls against your clit, with them fully sheathed inside you. 

The tight pulse of your orgasm around his sends Logan over. 

Even with Wade’s weight his hips still lift as he bows off the bed. A wounded groan, as he comes with you clenching down around him. Grinding himself into your hole as his cock throbs, emptying himself into you. 

There’s a sing-songed and muted “money shot” that has you groaning. Half-exasperation, half-mindless pleasure, as Logan’s hands roam. Holding you against him, ragged breath against your neck as you milk him empty.

Keeping you stuffed full, hilting his cock deeper when you squirm. Leaving Wade to catch up.

Shameless in the way he watches now, as molten pleasure thrums in your veins. Leaning back to see how you take them both. Picturing how you’ll look after, thoroughly-fucked holes that will drip with them until morning. 

Doesn’t notice when his breath turns short, but you do. 

“Wanna feel you come, baby.” You coo, your smile soft and pleasure-drunk. 

Hands tracing over his, overlapping and squeezing. The shallow lift of your hips to meet his thrusts, purposely squeezing him when he inches out - trying to keep him in.

“Make a fucking mess, Red.” Logan growls - joining you, “Let me feel you come inside her.”

“Jesus Titty-Fucking Christ,” The rough laugh turns into a groan, “Think I’m going to blow two loads at once-”

Hands overlapping, grasping on, holding you, as his hips pump faster. Head tipping - fitting between yours and Logans - as his back bows. 

Coming inside you with a muttered out “oh fuck. fuck yes-”, cock jerking with each needy rut of his hips. The sound turns into a whine when teeth sink his neck, hard enough to bruise. 

Yours on the other side, your soft moan in his ear as you feel the way he throbs as he spills into you again, and again. 

Intense, in a way you’ve never felt before. A connection that loops through you - from the press of your mouths, down to where you fit together. 

It’s fortunate that Logan’s hands still fit at your hips, with how fucked-out and boneless you feel. Trading one cock for another was one thing, but this - being claimed by both of them, the phantom ache as Logan withdraws- it’s something else entirely. 

Your head dropping back to rest against his shoulder, eyes heavy-lidded as you wait for your pulse to stop galloping. Logan’s nose ghosting against your temple, an arm still thrown around your hips. 

A hiss, when Wade slips from you. You can feel the mess they’ve made, sticky against your thighs. How they drip from your fucked-out holes, when you clench around nothing. 

It must do something to him, the way Wade moans when he sits back. Fingers raising - mimicking a camera, complete with the click of his tongue as the shutter. 

“If that doesn’t win me an academy award,” He hums thoughtfully.

“Then I don’t know what the fuck will.”

Time slows down, after. The low hum of artificial rain from a device on your dresser, layering with the muted city outside. Doesn’t know if it’s minutes or hours since he last moved, and he really can’t bring himself to care.

As long as it’s still dark, then he knows they’ve still got time. 

“So are you going to bake us a sex cake?” Wade yawns, “You know, for completely rocking your shit.”

“A what?” You stir against him - an eye cracking open. 

Logan grunts, his face buried in your shoulder. A hand splayed across your belly, a tug as he pulls you closer.

“Oh my god,” Wade chuckles to himself, “There I go, mixing up timelines again. I infinitely prefer this one, by the way.”

Logan lets the two of you bicker, his eyes slipping shut again. 

Your apartment is quieter than Wade’s. The bed comparable to the one they shared last time. Can’t remember the last time he’s felt a warmth like this. 

Soft, where your back tucks against his chest. His hand shifts to your hip, curving against soft flesh. Wade’s hand rests close enough to touch, fingers just brushing. Facing you, thighs twined together as he sandwiches you between them.

The shower had been nicer, as well. Snug, when you had pulled them in with you. Taking turns under the warm spray. He had commented on it - a way to drag out the scratch of fingers through his hair. The swirl of soap against his skin, and he had been too blissed out to bother with the facade when a second set of hands grabbed his ass. 

Staying just a little longer, as their hands found their way between your thighs. Wade thumbing at your clit as his own fingers fucked the cum deeper into your cunt. Twin marks sucked into your neck, as your legs threatened to give out - still shaky from before.

You stir against him. Words heavy with sleep.

“Wade didn’t say it earlier.” You yawn - shuffling, so you can help over to face him. 

Logan’s brow rises, as you clarify.

“There’s a caveat to our earlier question.”

“Good word choice.” Wade hums, “11 points, and I bet you were a real pleasure to have in class.”

A low chuckle, when your hips press back against his in warning - as your eyes flip up to Logan’s. 

“It’s a two-for-one deal,” The corner of your lips tug up, “It’s both of us, or nothing.”

“All for one, and one for all,” Wade’s chin hooks over your shoulder, ignoring how you elbow him, “And can you really afford not to take that?”

Supposes it’s cute, that you think you have to tell him this. That his eyes haven’t equally wandered, even if it’s only half-admitted. Too caught on wondering if the only something good he had will change, if he truly allows himself to want something. 

That it’s not only the feeling of your mouths on his cock that he revisits, though he does think of that often.

There’s other moments as well. Squeezing hands and smiles and the way you both look at him. The toothbrush that you had ready tonight, just incase he forgot his. The handle blue, when he slipped it in the cup - tucked next to red and purple.

Your words still spark brightly in his chest, settling low behind his ribs. It quells an uneasy twist that’s been lingering there for the past few weeks. 

Something unsteady, finally finding purchase. 

“Don’t know why you’re clarifying though, gorgeous.” His cheek rubs against yours like a cat. Those brown eyes meet his as well, and it’s hard to bite back the low inhale of breath.

“Considering he tongue-fucked the shit out of me earlier, I think he’s good.”

He huffs in reply, but he can’t bite back the curve of his lips. Not anymore - and he finds that he doesn’t want to.

“Yeah.” Logan agrees. That something turning soft inside him, the smile pulling just a little wider. 

“I’m good.”

thanks so much for reading!! 💖 there's a couple more moments I'd love to explore with them in the future! (but in case I'm not able to, I wanted to end it on this sweet note between them all. )

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ pretty tipsy ]❜

ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ he brings you home after a night out drinking┊2.5k words

setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: alcohol & intoxication, this man is WHIPPED, age & size difference, emotional drunk human reader, ooc? calling him kitty

➤ author's note: idk what this is but it’s my longest logan piece yet because i have yet to write any more than a thousand words for him

tonight was one of the few nights logan could finally have some alone time. wade was going out for drinks with vanessa with the plan to stay over at her place, the ever so mysterious blind al was off doing her own thing, and mary puppins was resting peacefully in her little bed, tuckered out after a long day of playtime. he could finally get some long-awaited peace and quiet, a moment to himself to relax and breathe. while he’s grateful for the presence of others since he arrived in this dimension, he’s still a lone wolf at heart who treasures his privacy above all else.

humming a little tune from the eighties, he sunk into the beat-up leather couch with a beer in one hand and a lit cigar in the other, taking a long drag on it and preparing himself for a relaxing evening until his flip phone started ringing. when he opened it up to read the “wade wilson” contact name staring back at him, he rolled his eyes with a groan before answering.

“what the fuck do you want?”

“not even a ‘hello?’ damn bitch, okay then— well, we ran into some friends and had some drinks together, but one of them is pretty shit-faced right now and her phone is dead, could you pretty please with sugar on top come and pick her up?”

“the fuck? that’s not my problem, just call her an uber—” he stopped mid-sentence when he heard a familiar giggle in the background, one asking a different partygoer to have another drink with her, “is that the neighbor who lives at the end of the hallway?”

“yeah, it’s your little crush~! you recognize her from just her voice over the phone, oh my god, you have it bad wolfie!! well, if you don’t wanna come, then fine, whatever, but you know, it’s not unsafe for a pretty lady to be alone this late at night! some guy might just swoop her up, actually, there’s some guy asking for her number right now—”

“alright, alright, i’m coming! send me the address.” he nearly shouted into the receiver, putting out his cigar on the ashtray atop the coffee table and slipping on his jacket to leave the comfort of his shared apartment.

the night was chilly in comparison to the cozy warmth of the indoors and the bar was filled with loud chattering and cheers, the clinking of glasses, yelling at the game being televised, and the general buzz of extroverted fun on a weekend night. 

“ayyy, there he is! come here, peanut, sit, sit, sit, have a drink with us!”

logan hesitated, not because he would ever shy away from free booze but because he was here on a mission with one sole goal in mind (and because he wasn’t familiar with this particular group of people, he didn’t feel like socializing tonight) “no, it’s fine, i’m just here to take her home.” his voice was uncharacteristically mellow, finding you napping on the table with your arms folded to be a makeshift cushion for your head. 

you peeked at the man coming up next to you and your face changed from exhausted to ecstatic to upset in the span of a few seconds, “looggann!! how are you doing, i feel like i haven’t seen you in foreverr— how come every time i see you in the hall, you always run off, are you avoiding me? did i do something wrong?” you cling onto his hand and shake his arm, paying no attention to your friends giggling at your behavior in the background, pouting and tearing up. 

oh god, you’re an emotional drunk, that’s so cute. neither he nor wade could get drunk at all on account of their systems constantly cleaning out the effects of the alcohol as soon as it’s consumed, but when he drinks around others, it’s a trait he typically finds so annoying quickly becoming so endearing when worn by you.

“i’m not avoiding you, you haven’t done anything wrong,” he consoled in the most gentle voice a wolverine could muster, also cringing at the fact that he wasn’t half as discreet as he thought he was. it’s true, he has been avoiding you, but only because he couldn’t stand the way you made him feel, smoothing out the rough edges of his personality and making him feel stupid butterflies he was far too old to be feeling, not to mention the nonstop teasing from everyone else when they noticed the way he seemed to look at you from afar. it was as if he was a child who thought hiding from it would make it go away, but it has become apparent it has only grown stronger.

“you’re telling the truth?” you sniffled.

“yes, i am. come on, bub, let’s get you outta here. i’m here to take you home.”

you didn’t protest or try to convince him you weren’t wasted, knowing your limit had been reached, and slowly picked up your things to follow him out of the building. he allowed you to intertwine your arm with his, providing support to your unbalanced mind and stumbling legs since you couldn’t even walk straight.

“why would you drink so much if you’re such a lightweight?”

“how do you know i’m a lightweight? you weren’t there, i could have drunk an entire bathtub full of booze before you showed up!” 

“nah, i can smell it, there’s no way you drank anything more than a few pints.”

“oh, so the kitty is a dog now? i thought you were more cat-like this whole time, but i guess i was wrong.” 

“what?” they say what a person says when intoxicated comes from their soul and true thoughts with little to no filter, but he certainly wasn’t anticipating those words to come out of your mouth.

“you look like a kitty, you know? with the way your hair does the little swoopy things— do you wake up like that or do you need to style it? you act like one too, grumpy ass kitty.”

“don’t call me that, kid, i hear it enough from wade already.”

“i’ll stop calling you kitty when you stop calling me kid! i know you’re old as hell, but i’m a grown-ass adult!”

“yeah? well, you’re certainly not acting like one right now.”

you were silent for a minute, making him worry for a second that he offended you by calling you childish, but when he looked back down at you, you were simply staring in astonishment. “i’ve never seen you smile before! you look a lot more handsome, you should do it more often!”

was he smiling? he didn’t even notice, grinning ear to ear and revealing his pearly white teeth, chuckling at your ridiculous words. was this really the first time you saw him smile and heard him laugh? no wonder you assumed he was avoiding you, he was surprised you didn’t hate him just because of a misunderstanding.

it took some time to get you up all of the stairs to your floor without tripping, and logan was almost sad the night was over so quickly. even if the conversation was mostly one-sided and you were intoxicated with slurred words, he swears he listened to all you had to say between comedic bits, insightful knowledge, random bullshit, and found it all fascinating. luckily for him, his time with you wasn’t up yet as he watched you fumble with your purse and frown.

“oh, fuck… i lost my keys… oh no…” you slumped against the wall until you fell to the floor, feeling yourself starting to cry at this inconvenience with heightened emotions. 

“god, please don’t, not again…” he’s the absolute worst at comforting others, it isn’t his strong suit, and acknowledging this weakness seemed ten times more difficult when you were the one in need. “come on, you can sleep at my place for the night and charge your phone.”

“...really?”

“yes, come on.” 

you took his outreached hand and found yourself in his grasp again as he held onto your shoulder to steady you, unlocking the door and leading you into his shared apartment. he felt somewhat grateful that you were too drunk to notice how messy the site was, seating you on the couch as he got you a glass of water to sober up. you looked so out of place among it all, so young and feminine with your vibrant club clothing around all of the aging, scratched-up furniture and muted colors.

“thank you,” you murmur, downing the entire tall glass with a few gulps, “uh, where is the bathroom?” he directed you to where it was and allowed you to use it, quickly hearing you turn on the shower after a minute and just as quickly hearing you swearing in regret over the loud pitter-patter of the steaming hot water. “i’m never drinking again, why am i being so fucking stupid?!” 

“are you okay?” 

“yeah, except for the fact i forgot that i don’t have a change of clothes and i stepped into the shower with my current ones on because i forgot to take them off!” your voice cracked, feeling yourself starting to cry once again from yet another inconvenience. you were really just embarrassing yourself and couldn’t wait for this shitty day to be over.

he let out a sigh of relief, “god, don’t scare me like that— i’ll get you something, hold on, please don’t cry.” he could have stolen some of al’s clothing since she wouldn’t have noticed, or he could have stolen some of the clothes vanessa left behind after spending time with wade, but for some odd reason, he pulled out one of his canadian hockey jerseys for you. the fabric was soft and worn with time, smelling slightly of him and laundry detergent, and arguably the most comfortable thing he had at his disposal. “i’ll leave it outside the door, okay?”

“thank youu!!” (and thank god your underwear is still clean and dry enough to wear again, you have no idea what you would have done if you didn’t realize your mistake soon enough and stood under the water for long enough to be soaked to the bone.)

logan allowed his fatigued body to rest for a moment, sinking into the couch just as he did an hour ago in hopes of relaxation. what the fuck was he doing? since when did the wolverine play babysitter for drunk young women, walking them back to play guard dog against possible creepy men, letting them into his home, and lending them his clothing to wear? this was so uncharacteristic of him, he couldn’t think of a single person he was willing to do this for other than laura, but you certainly weren’t nearly as close to him as he was to her! lord, he’s so pathetic, he thinks he probably would have carried you back bridal style too if you asked him.

the water stopped and he waited for you to exit so that he could show you where you could sleep, but he could now see he didn’t need to. your apartment layouts are nearly identical, and it looks like your brain was switched onto autopilot after cleaning up, mindlessly strolling into his bedroom and plopping down on his mattress as if it were your own. (his shirt was practically a dress on you, falling to your mid-thigh and ill-fitted on your smaller frame, his eyes lingering on it for a second longer than what would have been polite.)

he leaned against the doorframe, watching you make yourself comfortable and preparing to stay there until the early afternoon with a banging headache. “are you comfortable? do you need anything else?”

you murmured something in response and stretched out your arms, making grabby hands and inviting him to join you, “come cuddle with me! herree, kitty, kitty, kitty~”

are you really calling a fifty-something-year-old, six-foot-tall killer mutant with adamantium bones and razor-sharp claws that come out of his knuckles ‘kitty’? yes, yes you are, and you’re going to scream into your pillow from embarrassment when you recall it the next day.

“i don’t do cuddles, princess,” he chuckled even though he intended to scoff. “and i already told you to quit calling me that.”

“pleaseee? pretty pleasee?” you chirped, eyes going big and round just like a puppy in a cartoon, begging him to humor you in this request.

are you truly a human, or are you secretly a mutant who has hypnotic powers? the answer is obvious, he’s just an old loser who apparently answers at your every beck and call now because all he could do is sigh, slip off his jacket, and get under the blanket with you. 

you rolled on your side and wrapped your arm around his body, nuzzling your face into his comforting touch and inhaling the mild scent of pine and tobacco. humming a satisfied “good night” and dozing off within a few minutes, you clung to him as tightly as a koala onto a branch, and he couldn’t separate himself from you without making you stir and whine. 

trapped in the embrace of a beautiful neighbor whom he possessed a soft spot for, wearing his clothing and laying in his bed, he would be trapped like this until morning it sounds like a dream to most men, but to logan, it’s the fear of getting attached and losing someone else important to him rearing its ugly head to the forefront of his mind. it scares him to think what could happen if he allowed himself this pleasure of becoming close to you, and yet when he admires your slumbering face, he feels like it would be okay and work itself out in the end somehow.

he fell asleep more quickly than usual when you held him, and for the first time in forever, he wasn’t tormented with horrid nightmares of the past that always plagued him before now. when he woke up, his weary soul was well-rested and energized, almost as if he was twenty years younger again. the wonders of a good night’s sleep, or perhaps, the wonders of being with you. 

it felt so… natural to wake up with you next to him.

you were practically a dead weight by now, not rousing in the least when he slowly got up to leave the bed. he did feel a little back about undoing the grasp you had on him though, felt a bit like abandoning you in a vulnerable state. he sauntered into the kitchen to brew a cup of coffee as per his routine, only to find the most annoyingly loveable scarred face sitting in a chair waiting for him, legs crossed and hands in his lap like a supervillain. 

“sooooo, how was your night, you smitten kitten? you dirty dog!” there was a stupid smirk on his face, trying his best to hold back a fit of giggles. he knows nothing suggestive happened and was just teasing, but he still wanted to hear him say that it was a wonderful night nonetheless and to thank him for playing matchmaker.

“shut the fuck up before i stab you again. don’t ruin this morning for me.”

[teamred]

gtfih (get the fuck in here)

✩‌ wade wilson/deadpool x reader | fluff | 1.3k

SUMMARY | every morning, you see a man and his dog walk past your bakery and all he does is stick his head through the door, inhales deeply, make a comment, then walks out. what gives?

WARNINGS | flirty banter with sexual jokes, none really!

RATING | teen+

“Oh, that smells like unicorn farts wrapped in rainbows!” 

At the bakery's front counter, you glance up at the chiming bell above the door. Your first customer of the day... with a really strange comment.

A tall, mottled man stands before you in a grey hoodie holding an equally odd looking dog with a lolling tongue. Definitely not a sight you see every day. 

He takes a deep, exaggerated sniff of the air.

“Morning!” you greet with a smile. “Come on in and—”

And just like that, he bolts out the door and back onto the street. His dog licks his face—actually, his open mouth��as they disappear from view.

What the fuck?

The next morning, it happens again. 

“Mother of holy Mary and Marvel Jesus, that smells like a threesome between me, a donut, and fuck-me chocolate syrup!” 

The man, again in the same coloured hoodie, pauses dramatically, closing his eyes and taking another long whiff as he half-leans into the bakery.

“Would you like to try—?” 

But before you can finish, he’s gone again, leaving you standing there in disbelief.

The third morning is not much different. 

Same man, same dog, same routine. However, this time, he doesn’t even say a word—just inhales, sighs in contentment, then spins around and exits as quickly as he entered. 

It keeps on happening until the end of the week. By then, you've had enough. 

Leaning on the counter, arms crossed, you watch from the counter as he comes into view by your window. 

His dark maroon hoodie is drawn tight, and in tow as usual is his dog drooling slightly against his shoulder. You brace yourself, eyes narrowing.

The door swings open.

“Wow—” 

“You, Mr. Dog Man!” You cut him off and point at him sternly. 

He raises an eyebrow, pointing a finger to himself as if saying, “Me?” 

“Yes, you,” you confirm, then you jab your finger towards your glass counter. “Kindly get the fuck in here.”

He chuckles, amused. “Did you just tell me to ‘get the fuck in here’?”

“Kindly,” you say, tilting your head with exaggerated politeness, “but yes.”

The man shrugs, complying with a casual stroll to the counter. 

“Alright, I'm in. What’s the dealio?” he asks, leaning on the counter with a smile. 

“What’s your name, sir?” 

“It’s Wade,” the stranger supplies, his smile widening. “Wade Wilson. Is yours ‘The Bitchy Baker Who Didn’t Have a Good Dicking This Morning’?” His words drip with sarcasm, but there’s a playful twinkle in his eyes. 

“Ha-ha. So funny,” you reply dryly. “You know, you can't just keep sticking your head in my bakery, make a comment, and then leave.”

“Why not? It's a free country,” he says, feigning innocence. 

You roll your eyes. “If you like the smell of my baked goods that much, why don’t you actually buy one? I can assure you that they taste better than they smell.” 

Wade smirks. “That’s what many of my ex-girlfriends said, but I could never trust them.” 

You ruffle your eyebrows at his offhand comment, but he moves on quickly. “Look, I never carry my wallet on my morning walks. Mary Puppins here would guilt-trip me into buying way more stuff than I need.” 

Your gaze drops to his dog, who’s happily panting in his arms and looking up with big eyes. “Her name is Mary Puppins?”

“Yup. Her previous owner—may he rest his soul—named her. Her new baby daddy—that’s me—just kept the tradition going.”  

“And she guilt-trips you into buying stuff?” you ask slowly in equal parts disbelief and intrigue. 

“Look at this face!” Wade exclaims, holding his dog out closer to you. “Wouldn't you buy her anything she wanted?” 

For a few beats, you inspect the dog and its outfit. A little red and black costume that looks awfully similar to something you’ve seen before, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. But yes, her owner was right; she did have something oddly endearing about her. 

“Is it okay if I pet her?” 

“Oh yeah,” Wade nods enthusiastically, “go right ahead.”  

Based on her lack of facial expressions, Mary Puppins seems indifferent to your pats and scritches, but her tail is wagging, so she must be enjoying it slightly. Wade watches you in approval.  

You retract your hands, wash them quickly, then grab a tray of goods out from one of the shelves in the counter. 

“Well, since you don't have your wallet, have one of these on the house,” you say, placing the tray in front of him. 

Wade gasps theatrically, eyes twinkling in delight at all the choices he can possibly have. He takes his time, hovering his free hand over the array of pastries, until he finally decides on a chocolate croissant. 

One bite, and his reaction is nothing short of dramatic, but that seems to be this guy’s style.

His eyes flutter to a close, and he lets out a moan that echoes in the quiet bakery. You smile proudly and mentally pat yourself on the back. 

“Oh my God, they always talk about having a foodgasm, but my mouth is literally coming with each bite. Oh my fucking God!”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Okay, bring your wallet tomorrow and you can have plenty more foodgasms.” 

“What—my handsome features don't get me free baked goods?” Wade leans the rest of his croissant towards Mary Puppins, who’s trying her best to nibble at it, but is mostly just licking it.

“You're cute, but you’re not that cute," you tease. Looking beyond his skin condition, he was a teensy bit handsome, you had to admit.

“I used to wear a wig. I’ll put it on again if it means I get free shit. Would that help?”

It’s hard not to smile in front of him. “No, I don't think so.” 

“People say I look like Ryan Reynold’s hotter cousin when I’ve got a full load of hair on me.”  

You huff and shake your head in disagreement. 

“How about a date?” Wade asks with a wink. “There’s financial compensation in that—that’s gotta count for something.” 

A date would count for something, but you didn't want him to be out of the waters yet.

“Come back tomorrow with your wallet and a date could maybe be in your future,” you reply flirtatiously. 

Wade nods with a grin and begins to walk backwards towards the door. 

“If I’m late though, it’s ‘cause I’m too busy jerking it while fantasizing about having those beauties in my mouth again.” 

You sputter a laugh. Feeling brave, you decide to channel his humor and reflect it back at him. “Wow, maybe you’ll be only one minute late, if you can even last that long.” 

He gasps in mock horror and jogs back to the counter again to take another baked good. 

“This is compensation for that comment…” he says with squinted eyes, stuffing the pastry into his mouth. 

“Don’t come too hard tonight, handsome,” you say with a wink. 

“I’m legitimately so hard right now,” he says with a full mouth, pointing the half pastry braid towards his crotch. “As the kids say these days, you match my freak, lady. Say bye-bye, Mary Puppins!” 

Wade awkwardly adjusts himself to make his dog give a little paw wave, while she simply wags her tail. You laugh and shake your head, amused by his antics. 

As he finally exits, you hear him call out, “And if anyone asks, I’m just here for the sweet, sweet baked goods. Totally not because of the hot baker!” 

You bite your lip, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, as you watch him and his dog disappear down the street. As you return to work, you replay your interactions with Wade over and over, and realize he’s just as endearing as his quirky dog. 

You’re buzzing in anticipation to see Wade and Mary Puppins again tomorrow morning. 

[taintandviolent]

Taco Tuesday ; Gambit x reader!

summary: You live across the hall from Wade Wilson, and one Tuesday, he invites you over for tacos. 🌮 And that’s where you meet him. The Gambit. Post-Void, everyone got out alive and everything is fine. [PART TWO HERE]

word count & w a r n i n g s: 5.4K | smut with very little plot, alcohol mention, slightly drunk (but very consenting) reader, French and typing out accents/dialects, pet names (cher, mon ami, mon coeur, etc.), dirty talk (cos he is a dirty talker, don't argue with me on this), fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, no use of y/n.

a/n: this is based 100% on Deadpool and Wolverine Gambit / Channing's version of Gambit!! sorry for the lack of plot here, he deserves better than this filth, but I am down ASTRONOMICALLY and I needed to get it out. I spent so much time trying to get his accent right, I hope it comes off the way I wanted it to... anyway! i'm not certain if anyone will read this, but if you do - thank you a million times over! as always, requests are open! - banner by @/strangergraphics, and Remy gif by @scintie!

↓ full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

He’s handsome. Like really handsome. 

Your stomach does a flip as he smiles at you, reaching for the bottle of Jack between your legs — wait. Pause. Rewind. How’d we get here?

Living in the same apartment complex as Wade Wilson was a trip. Even more of a trip was living across the hall from him. The things you heard coming from that apartment... nobody would believe you. So, you never told anyone. 

He’s kind. Albeit, zany but kind. Your interactions have been cordial and nauseatingly neighbourly. But on one regular ol' Tuesday afternoon, Wade invited you inside. He said something about having a party later that night, making tacos and being neighborly. He assured you that it wasn't a sex party... which to be honest, you weren't worried about until he'd mentioned it. Against your better judgement though, you'd agreed, and said you'd bring some liquor.

So, that evening, you opened your door, one bottle of Jack tucked under your arm, and another in your left hand. You shut the door to your apartment and walked straight across to your neighbour’s door. Your fist had rapped against the wood only twice before the door swung open, revealing Wade, and a very… strange and very bald looking dog in his arms. 

"Oh, what the fuck?" You asked, looking down at the creature. "I didn't know you had a dog…?"

Wade’s voice rose an octave or two, in a cutesy tone. "She's a new addition, yes she is!" 

"I brought... well, this. Sorry, it was all I had in my cabinets and to be perfectly honest, I wasn't about to go out and spend money on this. I like… barely know you."

"HA! Brutal honesty. We love to hear it." 

Wade took hold of your shoulder and yanked you inside, harsh enough that you made a small sound as he did. He shut the door with his foot, and towed you towards the table, where everyone was gathered. And that was when you first saw him. He wore all black, save for a tan trench coat with a high collar. He lounged casually on one of the dining chairs, playing with a deck of cards. They fluttered from hand to hand effortlessly, and for a moment, you were stuck, mesmerized by the dexterous way he handled them. You weren't sure what was pulling you towards him harder, your heart or your cunt, but you felt an undeniable draw to the man.

Wade's arm wound itself around your shoulders, guiding you around the room to meet each of his friends. At that point, living next to him, mutants were a forced transition. You were used to the concept of them, so meeting a giant silver man, for example, wasn't unexpected. Vanessa was the most normal - you were pretty sure she was human.

Finally, he got to the one you really wanted to meet. The one that your eyes had been darting back and forth to the entire time, the one that when he briefly met your gaze, your heart thudded in your chest. 

"And this... handsome slice of man, is the Gambit. Good luck understanding him, he's a real mouthful."

I’ll bet he is, you thought. 

He pocketed the cards in a quick motion and stood up from his chair. With a syrup-smooth chuckle, the man laughed and said: "You can call me Remy." He did in fact have a thick Cajun accent and spoke quickly – almost too quickly. You blinked once, focusing hard on his words.

"Remy," you repeated finally, before saying your own name and extending your hand. He took it gently and as he shook it, your palm tingled with what felt like electricity.

"Enchanté." (Enchanted)

Your cheeks burned, and you knew they were flushing. You couldn’t control it. "De même..." (Likewise.)

His brows lifted, surprised. "You speak French, mon ami?" (my friend) 

"Heh, uhh... comme un enfant." (Like a child) You chuckled low, averting your eyes for a millisecond. "I took a few years of it in high school and again in college. I’m by no means an expert."

Wade's eyes were wide, flicking back and forth between the two of you. There was obvious chemistry there, and a knowing smirk drew itself across his lips. Abruptly, he yanked one of the bottles of Jack Daniels from beneath your arm, before leaning against the nearby wall.

"Oh, fuck me. You understand Gumbo here? That’s cute. No idea what either of you are saying though, someone forgot to turn the subtitles on. I'll leave you two to get acquainted." Whatever that meant. You scoffed, but turned your attention back to Gambit, looking at him.

“Sit a while, cher.” 

You happily took the chair that he pulled out, not caring that it was facing away from the others, and plopped down onto it, situating the other bottle of Jack between your legs. You gripped the neck of the bottle tightly, and looked at him with a timid, but a come hither sort of smile. After a moment, you twisted the cap off, and flicked it off somewhere to your right. Wade would find it later, or he wouldn’t. You didn’t really care. 

You two talked for hours, most of which consisted of him telling you about the Void, and how hard it had been, while you pretended to comprehend it. Between words, you passed the bottle back and forth, taking mouthfuls, and inadvertently swapping spit as you did. The thought occurred to you about halfway through the conversation, and your stomach tightened. You shook your head lightly and clenched your thighs together, trying to stave off the arousal that was bubbling in your core. 

There we go. That’s better.

He’s handsome. Like really handsome. 

Your stomach does a flip as he smiles at you, reaching for the bottle, which was still situated between your legs. His fingertips just graze the side of your thigh and his eyes flit to yours. He holds his smile, waiting for you to either protest or move the moment forward, and all you can do is gawk, because your cunt starts throbbing. 

As the evening wears on, though cautious, it’s obvious that Remy feels the same pull that you do. He remains cool on the outside, but internally, he was battling the magnetic tugging he felt from you. He couldn't shake it. He’d compliment you, you’d compliment him. At one point, in between sips, you casually drop that you think his accent is hot and he whispers something underneath his breath, something you don’t understand. Before either of you realized it, you had started to lean closer to each other, your faces inches apart, and you felt the warm rush of his breath over your cheeks.

It was as if you both realized it simultaneously. You rear back, an embarrassed expression plastered on your face. Remy clears his throat. His attraction to you was stifling; something that he rarely felt. He was powerless in his want for you, the draw you had was irresistible.

"Maybe we should... uh..." You murmur, looking deep into his eyes. In a room full of people that were starting to fade away the closer you two got to each other, you were thankful you were still sober enough to suggest a different setting. Any longer and you surely would’ve just straddled him and gone to town. 

Remy moves first. 

"We gon' take a walk." He announces to the others, getting to his feet. 

The conversation stops abruptly, silence hanging heavy. You straighten up, trying your best to avert your gaze, but you still see everyone’s reaction. Someone clears their throat and your heart sinks, feeling like you might die on the spot. The one that had been introduced as Logan, gruff looking dude, raises a single brow at you. In true Wade-character, he ugly cackles, shattering the moment. Your shoulders sink, embarrassed, as you head towards the door, doing the proverbial walk of shame. 

Remy meets you at the door and pulls it open, holding it for you. You duck underneath his arm, looking sheepish and as you exit into the hallway, you think you heard Wade mutter something about a fanfiction but Remy yanks the door shut before you can react. 

“You want to… get some air? Or um… I have… well, no I had liquor, but I brought it to Wade’s.” 

He smiles, and looks down at the floor, before lifting his eyes back to you. “We can do whatever you want, chère. You ain’t gon’ catch me complainin’ eitha’ way.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, considering the options. Your heart was hammering in your chest at the prospect of just being near him without the others around. You two had been close to kissing in Wade’s living room, and now, you had the opportunity to continue that… or take a walk. The latter seemed less appealing. 

“Y’know what, why don’t we… just…” You take a few steps backwards, jerking your head towards your front door. Concerningly, you had forgotten to lock your door. However, it allows you to open it quickly, and walk backwards into the apartment. Gambit follows you in, his attention never leaving you. 

"You sure 'bout dis, mon ami? I can walk away righ' now." His words land heavy, a promise behind them. He was a gentleman at heart, you could tell. Fortunately for him, you were very sure, and wanted every inch of him.

Mon ami - something that in the few hours you'd spent with him, he'd called you often. Among other things. Mon ami meant my friend, but you knew you two weren't just friends. You saw how he acted with others, and the comments he made. Sure, he had a quick wit and a mouth on him, but the flirting... god, the flirting.

He stands in the doorway, his shoulders filling the frame. Silently, you nod and take another step back, giving him some room to enter. He takes one wide step towards you, leaving the door open behind him. He reaches for your hip, and you immediately take to playing with his large hands. Delicately, you pay attention to each long digit, trailing your middle finger along the knuckles, and up and down the length of them. You dip into the spaces between, your fingers barely ghosting over the webbing. 

Was that a shiver? Your eyes flit to his, searching them for a hint.

"You sure do know how to make a man feel good." 

Your heart flutters at his words. With his accent, even the simplest of things sounded charming. At least to you. You felt that he could ask if you wanted coffee or how the weather was and you'd be twirling your hair around your finger like a desperate schoolgirl. Embarrassing. 

You’re about to respond and defend yourself by saying that all you had done was play with his hands, which was hardly considered foreplay, but his fingers come up underneath your chin, gently closing your mouth with a dull click of your teeth. He tilts it upwards to an angle where he could easily kiss you. And kiss you, he does. 

It was the kind of kiss that makes your knees buckle, sends a violent shudder from the nape of your neck down to the base of your spine. It’s the kind of kiss that needs to come with a warning; Danger: Will Result In Sex. As his lips move against yours, you feel the urgency of his need, of his want, and hum into his lips. Remy takes that as a green light and deepens the kiss, moving his body so that it’s pressing flush against yours. The action leaves you immediately breathless and in response, you break the kiss, tucking your chin to your chest. Your hand finds his torso, pressing hard against the muscles underneath the shirt.  

"Ah, don't you be actin' shy now. You been teasin' me for hours."

“I have not!”

“You think I didn’t notice all ‘dem touches an’ looks you were givin’ me? I may ‘ave been born at night, but I wasn’t born last night.” 

He had you there. You couldn’t deny that, at all. Even if you’d wanted to. Which, part of you did. Part of you was very nervous, standing before this very handsome man, with the taste of his mouth still lingering on your lips but another part of you, the louder one, was delighted that he’d noticed. Furthermore, that he’d enjoyed them enough to come to your room.

You lift your hand behind him, pushing the door shut with a harsh shove. With a twist of your fingers, you activate the locking mechanism, sliding the deadbolt into place. Gambit chuckles, grinning down at you. Your heart leaps into your throat, but you press on bravely, lacing your arms around his neck. They trail down the front of his body, feeling the muscles as they twitch with each ragged breath. 

He quirks a brow as if to ask, 'Oh, really?' You simply smirk back at him. The contact is electric, and you find yourself resisting the urge to grind against him immediately. Instead, you focus on his hands again, bringing one of them up to your lips. You press a delicate kiss on the pads, before slipping one into your mouth and sucking gently. Remy makes a deep, husky sound in his throat, and brings his other hand to your hip, where he pulls you roughly against him.

For a man that uses his hands often, the sensations are high. The way your mouth envelops his finger, your tongue writhing around the digit had his jaw clenching, muscles fluttering on the side of his face. When you draw his finger into the confines of your throat, deep-throating it, his eyes roll back in pleasure. He pulls his hand back, shaking it off as if the inside of your mouth was hot to the touch.

"Woo, you nasty, huh? Nevah’ woulda' guessed... you been actin' like a good little girl 'uhround me." 

After that, it all happened very quickly. Gambit takes a step and connects his lips with yours again, pushing them into you in an act of desperation. Without breaking the kiss, he shrugs out of his jacket, tossing it onto a nearby surface. You push against him until his back hits the door with a heavy thud, definitely loud enough for any innocent bystanders to hear. Your fingers undo the button of your jeans, breaking the kiss for only a second to slide them down your legs. 

Once you return to his waiting mouth, the kiss deepens and the coil in your stomach winds tighter, claiming your body in a deep, fiery arousal. His big arms wrap around you, enveloping you in a heated embrace. Just for a moment, it’s tender — but shortly after, his hands drop to your ass, fingers slipping underneath the band of fabric to take greedy fistfuls of each cheek. 

Your hands find their way to his shoulders, gripping the roundness of them to use as leverage. Letting out a little hum, you sweep your hips across his groin, pressing tightly against him. His eyes drift shut, head bumping against the door as he leaned it back, a low growl coming from his throat. Keeping at it, you grind your hips against him, feeling the outline of his length as it hardens.

“You be drivin’ Remy crazy, grindin’ on me like ‘dat.”

“That’s the intention….” You stand on your tiptoes to pepper kisses on his lips, your warm breath fanning over his face, smelling faintly of Jack Daniels. Remy trails his hand carefully up your rib cage until he gets to the side of your breast, where he quickly slips around to the front, his large hand cupping the fullness of it outside of your shirt. Your reaction is visceral; your breath hisses through your teeth at the sensitivity. 

Remy laughs again and with his free hand, pulls your hips back to his. Swiftly, he spins you around, pinning you between his body and the hard surface of the door. He presses himself tightly against you, shifting slightly so that his thigh was between your legs. The sensation of something that close to your core is dangerous and brings a weak, mewling whimper from your mouth.

“We gon’ have ourselves some fun.” His voice is low, tinged with a new sort of lustful tone that you hadn't heard before. Your mind is spinning, growing dizzy with lust. The alcohol had certainly helped your nerves, you were never usually this brazen. Your core burns with desire at his words, silently begging for everything he was about to give you. His lips hover just over yours; you can feel his breath on your skin and the heat that radiates off his body as it presses into yours.

"Oh my god," you whisper into his mouth. "Fuck..."

His teeth nip at your bottom lip before he captures your mouth in a heated, passionate kiss again. His tongue explores the inside, swirling along your own wet muscle. With every passing second, your heart beats faster and his hands grip your hips tighter, thumbs massaging the flesh above your jeans.

“Wrap ‘dem legs around me, mon coeur.” (My heart) Remy’s voice is husky with want; amongst his playful, lilted tone, a possessiveness lingered, and the thought sends a chill down your spine. He nods once, encouraging you into his waiting arms. You jump up, and he catches you effortlessly, gripping your thighs tight and hoisting you up into his grasp. Feeling secure, you wrap both legs around his waist and encircle his neck with your arms. Your gaze meets his and you can see the wanton need mirrored in his own eyes, darkened with desire.

Remy's smirk is dripping with confidence. Your body's response to him was causing his ego to swell within his chest, and his cock to swell within his pants. He leans in close, his lips against your ear, nipping at the lobe softly before pulling back slightly. In one fluid movement, his hips buck up against your center, teasing you over the layers of clothing. You let out a moan, throwing your head back against the door.

He thrusts up into you again, chuckling low against your ear. The hard line of his cock grinds against you, making you stutter out expletives as it presses against you with a needy demand. 

"You like 'dat, cher? Talk t' me..."

You nod, swallowing and wetting your throat. "Y-yeah, fuck... I do... need you – it – so bad."

“Whaddya’ need?”

“N-need you… so bad.” 

“You can do betta’. Tell Remy what you need...” 

He presses you harder against the door, your back sliding against the wood as he kisses a trail down from your mouth to your shoulder, sucking and biting with all the right intensities. As his hips grind against yours, you feel the damp fabric slide across your cunt, alerting you to just how wet he’d made you. Fuck. 

“Need… need you to fuck me. Hard. Need to feel you everywhere.”  

A few hours ago, you’d agreed to Taco Tuesday at Wade’s. Now, you were getting dry humped by a really hot Cajun guy and moaning into the curve between his neck and his shoulder. You were positive that if someone opened their door, they’d hear you. Somewhere in your brain, the thought should have been moderately embarrassing, but you were far too invested in Remy to care. 

Without warning, Gambit lifts you away from the door and carries you to the nearby couch. He never breaks the kiss, still feverishly claiming your mouth as he moves. Your back hits the cushions and before you can process it, his body weight is on top of you. He slots himself in between your legs, and his hard-on bumps into your stomach as his hips rut against you, finding some relief in the friction. But not enough. 

Remy’s hand finds the hem of your shirt, lifting it just enough to allow his fingers underneath the fabric. You bite down on the pillow of your bottom lip and push your hips up into his. Thick, strong digits sweep across your skin, leaving a burning trail of fire in their wake. Every touch brings your temperature up, and it isn’t long before your entire body is consumed in flames. You sigh contentedly, arching up into his touch. 

Abruptly, Remy straightens up, crosses his arms over his torso and pulls his shirt over his head, revealing his tan skin and bulky muscles. His stocky stature makes your tummy clench with anticipation. He was fit, as you assumed, but that didn’t stop your jaw from falling open at the sight. 

“Wow,” you finally choke.

Remy grins. “You like what you see?” 

You nod furiously, hands snapping to his toned abdomen. He’s warm and his skin is soft, begging to be touched. The muscles flex underneath your fingers as you trace a long stripe from his belly button to his collarbone. Your hands claw at his shoulder, attempting to pull him back down on you, but he resists. 

He spoke with a playfulness, almost a sort of pleading. His thumbs flicks at the hem of your shirt. “Ah, c’mon, ‘dat ain’t fair. Enlève-tout toi, huh?” (Take it all off.)

You thought you understood, but if you didn’t, it didn’t matter. Remy was quick to translate his words, busy undressing you, pulling your worn t-shirt over your head, and reaching around your back to unclasp your bra. Most men would’ve fumbled with the clasp, but not him. His adept fingers make quick work of it, allowing your breasts to fall free. He throws your bra somewhere behind him. 

“Hooo, cher…!” His eyes light up at the visual and you feel heat blooming on your cheeks again, half expecting him to make a lewd comment. Instead, his hands cup your tits, kneading the soft plumpness like dough, thumbs grazing the nipples. He exhales through his mouth, jerking his head to the side. 

Finally, he kisses you again. It’s wet and sloppy and his mouth is consuming you, tasting you hungrily. His hips are still moving, sweeping into yours with a calculated precision. You try to spread your legs but the back of the couch thwarts your attempt. He notices this, watching as you struggle with the space. 

“You got a bed?” He asked in between smearing kisses along your neck and collarbone. 

“Yeah-yeah…. Down the hall.” 

“Remy be needin’ more room for what he wanna’ do t’you.”

His weight is suddenly gone from you, an unwelcome sensation, even though you know he’s about to carry you wedding-style down the hallway. He bends down, one arm sliding underneath your neck, the other in the crook behind your knees. For the second time that night, he lifts you into his arms.

You rest your cheek against his warm pectoral muscle, rocking back and forth, as he walks you both down the dark hallway. The only light in the room comes from the window, the city outside alive and humming. Carefully, Remy sets you down on the bed, unmade from this morning, your dark gray sheets cool to the touch. 

In nothing but your underwear, which at this point, are damp to the touch, you’re left feeling very exposed. But you can’t muster up any shame, not when he’s looking at you with such hunger, such want. Your tummy feels tight, and the feeling gets worse when Remy’s hands drop to his waist, unzipping and unbuttoning his pants. They fall loose at the waist, and he shucks them down the rest of the way, leaving him in nothing but a pair of deep purple boxers. Your eyes swing heavy to the outline that’s now presented to you. 

Oh my god. 

Your breath hitches in your throat. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise; Remy was a big guy, and that proved true downstairs, too. You can barely pull your eyes away from it, but you begrudgingly rip them away, to look up into his gaze. 

“Please,” you beg. “You’re too far away…” Your cunt is aching and nothing but him, his hands, his dick, will sate her. 

He leans forward, flattening both hands on the mattress and walks them back until his face is in front of yours. He sweeps you into another kiss and your heart races. His hands are perfectly positioned on either side of your hips, you feel them graze the flesh. His finger hooks around the elastic of your panties, twisting it around his pointer finger and gradually, he tugs them down over the curve of your hip.

You nod lazily against his mouth, as you feel the warmth of his hand near your core. Your legs drop apart, knees touching the mattress as you allow him access. One hand sweeps across your inner thighs, stroking them, while the other palms your soft mound. His other hand comes to pause at your knee, and pushes his weight into it softly, forcing you to stay spread-eagle for him. No way you could’ve done this on the sofa. 

There’s no hesitation in the way he fingers you; sweeping up through your slick folds, smearing your arousal around until she’s coated in it, splaying your pretty, wet cunt apart with his fingers, looking upon it hungrily. He knows what he’s doing, and how to do it right. You briefly wonder if that’s another mutant power he has… though being an expert at fingering someone seems outlandish. But he’s just so good at it. His middle finger barely touches you, circling the bundle of nerves delicately. Your back arches up towards him, a desperate groan vibrating your vocal chords. Delighted by your reaction, his finger flicks upwards at your swollen, sensitive clit, making your body literally quiver. 

“Uhugh – god…. Shit, oh my god.” 

He continues like this for several minutes, until your cunt is blazing hot and clenching with every moan you give. 

By the time he presses one finger inside, you’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm and your voice fills the room with needy, desperate sounds. You let out a shrill whine, and he slips in another finger, feeling the stretch of muscle as he does. His heart is pounding in his chest, overcome with lust. The way you sound, the way your body is moving and writhing on the bed, he can’t wait to sink himself into you. 

Amidst a laugh, he says: “People gon’ think we up in here watchin’ porn.”

Did he just insinuate that you sounded like a pornstar? You lifted your head, wearily, to look at him. Your chest heaves with each breath as you try to formulate a snarky remark to no avail. He looked so good – well, always – but he looked particularly good on top of you, his bright eyes lust blown and hungry. 

“We’re… we’re… porn… it’s…  oh god.” 

He shushes you. “You just lay back and keep moanin’.” 

Defeated, you huff and your head hits the sheets again, but not before you catch a glimpse of the way the muscles in his forearm ripple as it pumps back and forth into your cunt. You can’t help but moan at the sight, feeling a shockwave rupture your core. Your hips meet his fingers, rutting and writhing against the mattress in a needy rhythm.

Your first orgasm claims your body before you can stop it. You’re clenching around his fingers as they move, crooking upwards into your sensitive spots. Your slick coats his fingers and when Gambit pulls his hand back, thick, clear strands string from between them. He smiles down at you. 

Remy raises himself to his knees. “Turn ‘round…” 

You flip over and back yourself towards him, thinking that he’s going to go at it doggy-style, but to your surprise, he pulls you upright, pressing your back against his chest. His dick is hot between your legs, and when he reaches down to line it up, you let your head loll back against his shoulder. Gambit’s mouth finds the side of your neck, streaking it with wet, suckling kisses. He was taking his time with you, savouring you and you hum happily through closed lips, reaching behind you to thread your fingers through his hair.

“Fuck, you feel so good…” Instinctively, your hips undulate and his cock slips between your folds. Remy’s hips buck once, letting out a groan that comes from somewhere deep. 

“You ready, cher?” He asks, sweeping your hair away from your neck. You nod furiously. You’ve been ready – you were ready the moment you laid eyes on him.

Remy reaches down to sweep his fingers along your entrance briefly, before gripping himself and guiding the head of his cock into the slit. You keen at the feeling of his velvet-soft head pressing into your entrance, warm pre-cum leaking from the slit. He murmurs words of encouragement into your ear as you feel his hips press against your ass, urging his thick, veiny shaft inside your cunt. He does it gently, allowing you time to adjust to the girth, but the sting still makes you cry out. “Fffuck!”

He begins to thrust his hips shallowly, your cunt stretching around his cock. The feeling is all-consuming, and your body feels heavy in his grasp. One hand is gripping your waist tightly, the other, fingers splayed out on your stomach just above your cunt. There’s a pressure building in your cunt, and each thrust magnifies it. The sting of his cock fades to an ache, then to a dull throbbing that makes you want more and you lean forward slightly and press your ass into the curves of his hips, meeting his thrusts. 

“Mm, ‘dat’s it, cher…” His voice is hot on your skin. 

His thrusts get deeper, but there’s a lingering tension in his body that makes you feel like he’s not getting what he wants. You’re right; all at once, Remy pulls his cock from you and switches positions. 

You’re suddenly on your back, looking up at him as he looms over you, all muscle. His cockhead nudges your entrance again, but doesn’t penetrate. 

“Say my name, cher… I needa’ hear it leave ‘dat pretty mouth.” 

“Which one? Gambit? Or Remy?” You ask, breathlessly.

The way his eyes rolled back at the second option told you everything you needed to know. A smirk twisted your lips cruelly and you lifted your body slightly, just enough for your mouth to reach his ear. You moan his name over and over again, knowing full well the effect it’s having on the mutant man.

“Remy, Remy, Remy….” Your tone is high-pitched and whiny, but he seems to enjoy the lewdness of it all. He bucks his hips hard into you, and the fullness reaches an all-time high as he bottoms out, his pelvis hitting yours with a slap.

“Huhhh—!” You gasp, breathing ragged. “Fuck!”

“Gonna’ make you cum so hard you ain’t gon’ walk right for days.” His voice is low and filthy and leaves a stain on your mind. Your cunt clenches around him possessively, pulling him somehow deeper inside of you. 

As your head bangs into your headboard, the tip of his cock bumps your cervix over and over again, and your jaw goes slack, literally fucked silent. Remy hears the thudding of your skull and puts a hand between it and the wood, but he doesn’t stop his relentless, deep thrusting. 

The pleasure reaches a peak and your nails dig into his back, leaving crescent moon shaped indentations on his golden skin. Remy’s groaning loud into your ear as he cums, muttering in an almost incoherent melange of French and English. His accent is somehow heavier, and you can barely make out the words as he’s saying them into your skin. It doesn’t matter though, because you feel how full you are, and Remy’s hot, white completion is leaking out the sides and staining your sheets. 

He stays like that for a moment, hovering on top of you. His cock softens inside, completely spent and eventually, he slips it out, rolling over onto your bed.

“Ah, joi de vivre, huh.” (the joy of life), he says drowsily.

You laugh, and nestle underneath his arm, in the space he’s left for you. 

If you had your way, you’d do it all over again. 

Though he doesn’t say it, so would he. 

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can I request headcanons for Logan and Wade with shy gn s/o please?

I’m going to assume separate unless told otherwise as poly relationship between Wade/Logan and reader would be cool too, but again unless specified I’m just going to assume it’s separate.

Wade Wilson/ Deadpool

Wade found your shyness adorable but found your reactions to his teasing and flirting.

And he abuses the shit out of that to his hearts content.

Mouse was a nickname that you were given almost immediately from the moment you met as you were quiet and cute as one too that to Wade it just fit you perfectly.

Wade; stop being so fucking cute!

You: huh?

Wade: you heard me! It should be illegal to be as cute as you! You should be locked up for the thing you do to me, but I’d rather keep ahold of the details because half of them might make you faint little mouse.

You: oh. 😶🫣

Wade will make it a tradition to take you by surprise, whether it be by randomly kissing you, hugging you from behind, playfully smacking your ass, it didn’t matter because your tendency to whine his name out in embarrassment ‘waaaaddde!’ Before hiding your face in his chest as he laughs and whispers teasing words into your ear that only makes your flustered state worsen.

Wade didn’t mind that you were shy, he really didn’t as he found it to be one of the many things he loved about you and wanted to protect, he didn’t want you to feel as though you should have to change to better fit him when he was more content with you being you.

He’s never had as much fun nor laughter in his life like he did when he was with you, and Wade considered himself lucky to have someone as soft and sweet as you that he often times thought you’d be better off without a fuck up like him in your life but he’d kept it to himself, disguising it with humour and teasing you instead.

Logan Howlett/ Wolverine

Logan finds you being shy amusing to say the least.

It brought his protective instincts out as someone as soft and shy and softly spoken as you would need him by your side 24/7.

He’s your guard dog, scary dog privilege in the form of a very traumatised man who’s became more familiar with pain and heartbreak than the tender affection and touches you give him.

So you found it best to be patient with Logan and give him time to become familiar with your love and affection until he felt ready to reciprocate in his own way. And Logan appreciated you for that and would let you know his appreciation by planting a soft kiss to your forehead.

Logan is a softy with you and while he’s quick to bite back at other people, with you he’s much softer with his words that they’re practically sweet murmurs whispered within your ear, as he held you against his chest protectively as you both drifted off to sleep.

He more or less acts as your voice whenever you felt discomfort, he’d could easily tell from your bodily language and would immediately step in, and voice your discomfort for you in your stead for Logan knew that you’d rather avoid conflict then delve headfirst into it like him.

However Logan would be the type to try and teach you ways to defend yourself and how to stick up for yourself when he couldn’t, this is probably out of his fear of losing someone dear to his heart again, but he wasn’t about to risk looking you when he could give you the tools to keep yourself safe while he was away.

He gives you his jacket, just make sure that the point gets across that you were his and not theirs, after all he’s a possessive man who doesn’t like sharing what’s his with anyone else.

He didn’t care about anyone else, you were the only thing he gave two shits about alongside Laura Kinney (x 23) other then you two, nothing else mattered to Logan. He just wanted you to be happy for as long as possible.

Side note: he’d love it if you and Laura got along, it’ll mean all the more to him.

[avocado-writing]

Kinktober #17

17. Squirting // Dom - Sub // Period Sex (Logan Howlett x Reader x Wade Wilson)

“Are you sure? It’s gonna get messy.”

“You say that like it’s gonna be a problem. Pookie, we deal with blood on a near-daily basis, I would say it’s the bodily fluid I wash out of my clothes the second-most.”

You roll your eyes at him but can’t help the little moan which slips out of you when Logan’s mouth kisses along your neck, hot and heavy.

“Yeah, well, murdering isn’t the same…” you mutter, feeling yourself begin to relax under their touch. Wade bites at the lobe of your ear, his shoulder nudging Logan’s for room over your body. You like it when they both crowd you. You like it when Wade makes you melt with his blabbering, and Logan can turn you to jelly without saying a goddamn word.

“We’re two grown men. Your pussy during shark week is hardly the worst thing we’ve seen, baby…” he continues, airily. You manage to wrestle away from Wade just long enough to make eye contact with Logan, hazel eyes blasted black with arousal. He shrugs.

“He’s not wrong. Blood doesn’t bother me.”

“Exactly! So lay back and let’s surf the crimson wave together.”

Wade cups your cunt as he says this and you have a visceral reaction, bucking into his hand. With a groan you lay back on the bed and give in.

“Fine…” you sigh, pretending it’s some great effort but really, pretty thrilled that both of your partners want to take care of you. An orgasm really helps with the cramps and their warm, strong bodies are always preferable to grabbing your wand from your bedside table.

Your belt is undone and jeans roughly tugged down your legs, underwear with them. Wade wastes no time in pulling your legs apart so he can look between them and you kick him playfully.

“You’re not buying a used car, Wade, you’re about to fuck me. You don’t have to inspect it…”

“Pookie, I just want my girl to know I appreciate her no matter how caked in blood she is,” he says, patting your mound like it’s a faithful dog. Just as you go to kick him again Logan sinks two fingers in you up to the knuckle, dragging a moan out of you instead. Your walls are tender and the intrusion is strange but not unwelcome. In fact when Logan begins to make a beckoning motion inside of you, all you can do is gasp and fist the bedsheets.

“There we go, baby. You just relax. Your boys have got you…” Wade hums, his hand joining Logan’s so he can begin to work at your clit. All you can do is watch as they move in harmony - god they are always at each other’s throats, but together they’re the perfect team to take you apart piece by piece. Wade presses narrow circles into you, playing on that spot which makes you sing, and Logan’s arm begins to work more rapidly. You can even see the veins and muscles flex under his skin as he doubles his effort to bring you to a climax. Their hands slowly get soaked in red, the noise they create a lewd symphony of arousal and blood.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, I’m gonna–”

“Let go,” says Logan, in a way which doesn’t bear arguing with. Your orgasm crescendos over you and you soak both of them as you finish for the first time that day. Wade pulls away first leaving Logan the room to extract his hand which is dripping with a crimson sheen. He seems totally unbothered about the blood - in fact, they both seem pretty damn smug.

You open your mouth the same time as Wade does, except instead of speaking he brings the fingers that were just inside you into his mouth and sucks them, his mouth taking Logan’s digits like your cunt just did.

“Holy shit…” Logan says, surprised but not pushing Wade off of him either. When Wade removes himself with a pop his lips are tinged red.

“Told you blood didn’t bother us,” he sighs, dreamily, then moves in to kiss you. You meet him with enthusiasm.

[rebelliousstories]

One in the Same

Relationship: Logan Howlett/The Wolverine x Reader, Wade Wilson/Deadpool x Reader

Fandom: X-Men

Request: Yes by Anon

Warnings: Fluff, Brief Angst, Brief Strong Language, Brief Mentions of Violence

Word Count: 1,508

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Summary: Hailing from the land of maple syrup and politeness, Logan is not sure how he feels about this arrangement with the merc.

“Oh, I’m telling you peanut. I feel wonderful about this one.“

“Would you shut the fuck up already? Don’t wanna scare her off before she agrees to help us.”

If you were to ask Logan how he felt at the moment, he would tell you that no one should be this excited about meeting someone at eight in the morning. Wade had insisted on being up early because, according to his research, their new teammate was going to be unavailable for half of the day.

The duo made their way, in civilian clothes no less, to a random apartment in Queens to find this person. She was not particularly difficult to find, but she was always busy. Wade never got bored conducting reconnaissance on her because she moved around and did enough things to satisfy his untreated ADHD. A dingy gold plated 97 hung on her door, and caused the bald mutant to get all giddy.

“Oh this is it! This is it. Okay, how do I look?” Wilson fixed his clothes and imaginary hair while Logan arched an eyebrow.

“As ugly as you usually do.” The older mutant took it upon himself to knock three times. No answer. He rapped three more times, and waited for a moment.

A muffled voice called out, “be right there!”

The two men stood awkwardly in the hallway as they waited. Wade kept bouncing around from foot to foot, and fiddling with his clothes. When he inevitably got bored of that, he took to trying to tickle one of the tuffs of hair on Logan’s head. That only earned him a warning the first time. The second, claws were coming out and dangerously close to cutting off the offending hand.

Before he could, the door in front of them opened to reveal a woman that was bundled up for the cold New York weather. They all took a moment to see what was happening in front of them before someone decided to move. Her eyes were wide as she traced over the smooth lines of Logan’s claws, and the rough dimpling of Wade’s skin.

“Oh my god. Hi! You finally answered!” The merc exclaimed happily. He dodged the metal that dared to slice his hand off, and made his way to the mutant that had opened the door. Logan, still feeling her eyes on his claws, sheathed them back into his body.

“Hello. And you two are?” She asked hesitantly, feeling a bit uneasy around the two men.

“Well that was probably as good of a first impression as we could get. I’m Wade Wilson, aka Deadpool, aka Marvel Jesus. And this hunk of a man next to me is Logan, aka The Wolverine, aka Marvel Daddy.” Said hunky man closed his eyes, sighed, and dropped his head in defeat at the words the man spoke.

“Well, how can I help you boys? Would you like to come inside?” Stepping to the side, she led the two men inside to her living room.

Logan tried to keep his eyes on the woman they were there to see, but occasionally, his eyes would drift off to take in his surroundings. Wade, on the other hand, had already tried to break off from the group twice. Except Logan would not allow him to wander around the area, which meant that he kept his hand on the back of his collar until they sat on the couch.

“Can I get you gentlemen anything? I’ve water, coffee, some juice. Might even have something stronger, but it’s a little early for that.” A chuckle ripped from her throat.

“I’ll have a coffee. But only if it comes from a laughing man.” Wilson spoke up, happily bouncing in his spot. Two sets of eyes looked at him confused.

“I’ve just got whatever they carry at the bodega. Hope that’s okay.” Making her way into the kitchen, the woman began to make a small pot of coffee.

“So, what brings two gentlemen to my door on this fine morning?” The aforementioned men turned to face the woman who was now leaning against the threshold. Wade was on the edge of his seat at the prospect of telling their tale, meanwhile Logan had his elbows on his knees, ready to jump in and save this nice woman from the red menace.

“We need your help with restoring the multiverse. And I need someone to help this old grumpy kitty relax a bit. He just needs some human companionship.” Logan grabbed Wade’s wrist before the hand could plant itself on his shoulder.

“I’m not sure how I can help. My powers don’t tend to play well with others.” She lamented, grabbing the tray that now held all sorts of things. Coffee, cream, milk, sugar, and snacks littered the area once she set it down on the coffee table. As she made her cup, a solemn look took over her face but Wade was having none of that.

“Listen, I get it, okay? My friend here, he’s also the brooding, ‘haunted by the mistakes of your past’ kind of mutant. But you can overcome that! You can help save people. Sure we might not be Chuck, but we can definitely help you. So what do you say?” Wade tried to convince her. However, it only worked a fraction of what he had hoped.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know if I’ll be able to help,” she stated once more. While they talked, the Wolverine looked around the apartment and noticed something curious.

He placed his hands on his knees and stood, letting the two other people talk to each other as he explored. Logan felt his feet meet to where his eyes were locked on. Before he could stop himself, his hands curled around a picture frame that was surrounded by memorabilia. Turning, Logan brought the picture frame back to the living room. As he came back in, the woman and his reluctant friend had ceased their talking to focus on him.

“You play hockey?” There was a beat of silence.

“Yeah,” she began, “used to play anyways. Got an injury that took me out. But it was some of the best times of my life.”

“Who’d you play for?”

“A small female team. My personal favorites were the Maple Leafs from Toronto. Always good to have a good home team.”

“Wait a damn minute,” Wade jumped in, “‘home team’?” The mutant gasped dramatically.

“Yeah. I’m originally from a little town outside of Toronto, but I lived there for a long time.” She explained, a fond look crossing over her face as she looked at the frame.

“Oh my maple syrup.” He became misty-eyed as he looked towards the woman, “You’re from the promised land. You are Marvel Mary.”

“Shut up.” Logan growled, handing her the frame again.

“I’m confused. Why does it matter that I’m Canadian?” She puzzled, tracing fingers absentmindedly over the grooves of the picture frame.

“It doesn’t.”

“Oh, yes it does. It means that you are meant to help us save the timeline.”

“But why?”

“Because, our big ol’ kitty cat friend here hails from Canada. And, plus, we all know that this franchise would have never gotten anywhere without some spectacular Canadian actors and directors. Let’s face it. Canada turns out the best people for Marvel, not so much for the bastard’s across the road.” Wade’s explanation only further confused the woman, and infuriated the other man next to her.

“You’re Canadian?” She asked, turning to Logan. He grunted, but nodded his head in conformation.

“See? You’re meant to help us. We’re meant to be together! Like peanut butter and jelly, or Rose, Blanche, Dorothy, and Blind Al is Sophia.” Wade’s eyes were wide like saucers, and held a child-like excitement in them.

Logan scrubbed his hands over his face, but could not find the words to speak. On the other hand, the woman was giggling behind her hand so as to not aggravate or encourage anyone. But she eventually composed herself enough to form a sentence.

“I guess when you put it like that. I could be convinced to help you guys.” At her acceptance, Wade let out a happy yelp and clapped, while Logan just gave a small smile to the woman.

“Let’s go! Awesome. What do we do know?” He rattled off, stopping both Logan and the woman.

“What?”

“You don’t have a plan for what to do afterwards?” Logan snarled. Wade shook his head sheepishly.

“Why don’t we go get something to eat? I don’t have anything going on for the rest of my day. And I could certainly use some food.” Once more, Logan snarled at the merc who was looking giddy and terrified at the same time.

“What? Did I say something?” She asked, worry clouding her face.

“Nothing. Come on. Adventure awaits, mother Mary!” Wade skirted past Logan and grabbed the woman by the hand to lead her to the door.

It was going to be a rough morning, but there was nothing else that anyone wanted to be doing.

[icarusredwings]

Be warned. I wrote this at midnight. I have no clue what im talking about. Do you get it?

"Why doesn't this wolverine teach history? Other wolverine did"

Well, because THAT Wolverine had a Charles. Let me remind you just how fragile Logan's mental state is and just how quickly his brain can throw him into a temporary amnesia due to shock and / or panic that is triggered by his CPTSD.

The thing is, this Wolverine has a Wade. Not a Charles. Sure, Jean could probably do something to him if things got too crazy but you know just how dangerous of territory that would be. Yes, Charles doesn't have a healing factor but it was his confidence and perfect reassuring words that helped him, plus If something did happen Im pretty sure he wouldn't blame him much anyway. He knows what hes dealing with. This isnt to say that jean doesn't but I can see her panicking too much and Logan would feed off of that fear and panic and become worse.

Wade, on the other hand, is neither calm nor says the right things, BUT he can't die :D Which is a massive YES when it comes to dealing with a panicking 3+ time war veteran with knife hands. And is known to attack first ask later.

Trying to teach the kids about 'Nam, a thing sets him off. He stares off into space for a bit, Backs up and his breath gets heavy. The hairs on his arms are raised up and his pupils dilate, they widden and its as if he doesn't even remember he's a teacher.

When he starts the whole "Who are you? Where am I!?" Thing, a student (probably the oldest or one that's been dubbed most responsible) slowly just gets up and leaves to tell a trusted adult.

"Mrs. Munroe?"

"Yes?"

"Mr. Howlett is acting funny again."

"Okay darling. Go fetch Mr. Wilson for me? There's a dear."

She, calm as ever walks into the class room, standing away from the door so not to make him feel trapped, and very clearly shows her hands as she gestures the kids to leave.

Backing himself into a corner, he watches them one by one leave, Gripping at the chalk boards ledge and the windowsil, trying to balance and ground himself.

"Come now children. Quietly and slowly please. Good job. Go next door to Mrs. Summers please." Sending them to the next class room so to leave this one empty.

She stands off to the side of the room. Hands in front of her, smiling softly. "Hello Logan."

"What? Who are you?" He almost hisses but can't help but to feel not so threatened. He always did have a sweet spot for women. Maybe its their scent difference, but like most reactive animals, he's a little calmer for women. A little more trusting.

"Im a dear friend of yours. My name is Ororo. You are in no danger here." She states this practiced sentence with the same whisper of a voice.

"Where the fuck am I. How did I get here!? Did you bring me here!?" At this point he's growling.

"Logan, I assure you that no one forced you here. This is a school. You're a teacher."

"A teacher..?" Just a tad he softens, as if you had just told someone who wanted to be a vet when they grew up that they actually would become a very good vet, except the look in his eyes was as if questioning why they would ever him do that. Be a teacher I mean.

"Yes. If you would like to leave that is okay." She slowly sits in a spare chair, her leg crossing, not knowing how long she will need to play baby sitter but she hoped someone soon would alert the other staff of this. It IS a safety risk after all and Ororo knew that if he hurt anyone at all he'd immediately regret it terribly so when he woke.

"You.. you told her to go get someone. Why? Who are you getting? For what!?" Another snap, as if he thought she was trying to trick him into letting his gaurd down.

She smiles. "Your husband."

"What the fuck do you mean my 'husband'!? What are you sayin' lady!?" The venom in the way he says this makes her giggle a bit. Oh, goodness. He really did lose all of his memories, didn't he? How was the same man who once was so dastardly in love with scott to the point of shredding his heart into a gazillion pieces and is married to the silliest man alive, so internally homophobic? The irony of the thought made her laugh.

"And that kids is how you slice someone into sushi. Rice not included-" His weapons tatics and saftey class is interrupted.

"Mr. Wilson?"

"Oh hey, squirt! You wanna learn how to disconnect someone's joints without even leaving a puncture wound?"

"Maybe later.. uhm...Mr. Howlett's scared again..."

You just see Wade running out on these kids like "I'M COMING WOLVIE!"

"What, you think it's funny!? I ain't got a husband lady! Now, Im leaving! And there's nothing you can do to stop me!" He goes to walk out the door only to run into said husband, who immediately hugs him.

"Babe!! Hi! They told me- OUCH- okay yeah I deserved that- no tocuhy I forgot."

And is stabbed.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!? Get off me! Freak!"

"D'aawww!! Did you see that? He called me a freak! I hate to tell ya cupcake, but you're married to this freak. Now, what's wrOOW- Mad kitty are we? Woah there tiger! Easy boy!"

Logan looks at him, confused, stabs him again, and is trying to figure out why Wade's not dying. He goes to slash him in the head and wades like "WAITWAITWAIT NOT INFRONT OF THE KIDS-"

Mrs. Munroe, by now, has gotten up and left, closing the door and letting out a big sigh, wondering what shade of red they were going to paint the room this time.

She does a little clicky on her walkie and infroms all the staff about the situation and so for the next half hour or so, Logan's kids get to skip class and said classroom now needs a deep scrub.

And this ladies and gentlemen is why this Logan doesn't teach history anymore.

P.E. is SOOOO much easier on his mental status, and sometimes Wade joins, and he puts the whole class against him to make them work on their team building skills. Plus- it's funny to watch your husband get slapped in the head with 20 dodgeballs.

[biting-miguel-ohara]

Bunny - Logan Howlett x ftm!Reader x Wade Wilson

A/N: OH MY FUCKING GOD! I’m just gonna 🫣 Oh I hope this is good. I’m sorry if the ending is a little cheesy or whatever. I did my best

Let me know if I missed any warnings, please! And as always, please don’t read if the warnings make you uncomfortable in any way!

Written for this request

CW: smut; explicit sexual content; oral sex (Reader receiving); Reader’s arousal is called slick; Reader is called bunny, baby, bunny boy, beast, buns, rabbit, dumb, fucker, and babykins; dumbification, I guess?; praise (?); degradation; condescension; Wade and Logan kiss; Reader is too fucked out to speak much in this; choking; Reader’s parts are called dick and hole; prey/predator dynamics (?); dirty talk; grinding; Reader is a bunny mutant; mentions of heats; mentions of breeding; hehe double penetration; uhhhh Reader makes a lot of various noises in this; squirting; Reader gets fucked dumb; what’s a step above blissed out?; aftercare is important, y’all; cuddling; forehead kisses; soft ending

1249 words

You’re in Wade’s lap, forcibly held in place, no matter how hard you squirm. Logan’s between your legs, lapping up the slick dripping from your hole.

The sounds he’s making are obscene, the squeals you’re letting out even more so. You can’t help it, not when Logan’s eating you out so well.

Wade just coos in your ear, every now and then rutting his dick up against your ass. “Such a good little bunny. Look at you, letting Logan eat you up. I bet it just feels so good, doesn’t it, baby?”

You can’t even respond. You can only cry out, your noises high-pitched and desperate. You just can’t help it; Logan’s been between your thighs for what feels like hours. Licking and sucking and slurping up your slick.

Finally, finally, Wade pushes Logan’s head back. “Come on, peanut. I think our sweet little bunny boy’s all wet and ready for us now.”

Logan grunts and eyes you. He wipes his mouth, which does absolutely nothing to clean your slick from it. Wade pulls him in for a kiss, pinning you between the two men.

You squirm and whine, pawing at Logan’s chest. He growls and grips your throat. “Calm down, you little beast. Insatiable fucking thing.”

Wade snickers and coos. “Awww, our little bunny isn’t that bad… You can be good, can’t you, baby?”

You nod, letting out a squeak. Logan grips your throat tighter, making it harder to breathe. “He’s a dumb little rabbit who only knows how to fuck, Wade. Look at him! He’s dumbed out, and we haven’t even fucked him yet.”

You clench at Logan’s harsh words, the fuzzy haze in your brain from lack of air only adding to the pleasure pooling in your gut.

You love it when they get like this; Wade all soft and condescending, and Logan all gruff and mean. It makes your dick throb with need.

You whimper, the sound choked and needy. You thrust your hips up as best you can, before Wade pins them down again. “Nuh-uh, bunny boy. I know your greedy little hole wants to be filled, but you’ve gotta be patient. We’ve got big plans for you.”

But Logan smirks. He eyes you hungrily, and you can see the thoughts forming behind his eyes. “I say we give the dumb rabbit what he wants. If he wants to be fucked so badly, let’s give him the dick he needs.”

Wade pauses at that. Then he gasps. “Oh, peanut, you filthy dog. You don’t mean—“

“Little beast wants us.” Logan’s eyes glint with a vicious light you’ve never seen before. It sends a delightful shiver down your spine. He lets go of your throat, watching you gasp for air.

Wade squeals with delight. “You think he’s ready?”

“He can take it. Bet he’ll even like the pain.”

Your tail twitches with anticipation. You tremble in their hold, suddenly feeling more like prey than ever before. It makes you feel small, vulnerable. Wanted.

You know you’re even wetter than before. You can feel the slick dripping down your thighs. Just the thought of the two using you for their own pleasure has you clenching with excitement.

Wade shifts you onto his thigh as he hastens to pull down his pants. You just mindlessly grind down, moaning at the friction against your needy dick.

Logan scoffs, already fisting his cock. “Look at you. Dumb little rabbit. Can’t think of anything but his own pleasure.”

“Now, now, peanut,” Wade chimes in, shifting you back onto his lap. His cock slots against you, rubbing against your dick. “It’s not his fault he’s so dumb. It’s his mutation, remember? Poor little bunny boy’s suffering from a heat.”

You whimper, struggling to focus on anything other than the way Wade’s tip is smearing precum against your stomach. Your mouth waters at the sight, the memory of him fucking your throat only adding to the problem.

Wade’s words aren’t entirely false. Some of your desperation does come from your mutation. But it’s not springtime. You’re just a horny mess. Still, the idea of getting bred like a bunny in heat makes your body tense with pleasure.

Logan just chuckles, low and dark. “Oh, yes. How could I forget? Dumb little fucker won’t be satisfied until he’s all stuffed full of cum.”

The dirty words make you whine. Your tail twitches again, and Wade shoves his hand down to grab it. “God, buns, you don’t know how hot you are.”

He rubs his dick against you, coating it thoroughly in your slick. Then Logan does the same, notching the tip of his cock against your hole.

You clench hard, letting out a whine. You want to beg him not to tease you, but the words just won’t come out. You can only moan, rutting your hips forward for any sort of leeway Wade’s grip will allow.

Logan growls softly, eyes darkening. But he doesn’t scold you. Instead, he presses into you, bottoming out in one go.

You choke, brain going fuzzy at the feeling. He’s so big, thick and long. It feels amazing, and you clench around him.

And then Wade presses the tip of his dick against your stuffed hole. You can barely process it, your brain sluggish and dumb. But you definitely feel it when Logan pulls out and the two press in.

The sound you let out is obscene. High-pitched and breathless. You practically shriek at the feeling, body going limp in their arms. You can’t help it; your brain feels blank, your body split in half by the feeling of their dicks in your hole.

You can vaguely hear them groaning, cursing and swearing up a storm. All you can focus on is the pleasure and pain rocketing up your spine.

They start to thrust, and your brain turns to mush. It feels like hours. Endless waves of pleasure crashing over you. You cum once, twice. The third time, it’s like a dam breaks.

You gush all over them, staining the sheets under you with your slick. All you can do is weakly mouth at whomever‘s holding you up. It feels like a dream, your brain all mushy and gooey.

Eventually, the feeling of fullness is pulled away. You whimper at the loss, squirming away when something cool and wet is pressed against you. It’s only there for a moment, gently cleaning you up.

You can hear words, but your brain feels too mushy to understand. You just whine, snuggling into the touch that comes to press against your back. A weight sinks onto the bed on your other side, sandwiching you between two warmths.

It takes a long time for your brain to come back to itself. You feel sleepy and thirsty, your body all tingly.

“Wade…?” You mumble. A hand strokes your cheek. “I’m here, babykins. What do you need?”

You lick your lips, eyes barely half open. “Some water…?”

A water bottle is pressed to your lips and you drink slowly. Then you snuggle back into the other warmth next to you. Logan’s voice rumbles in your ear. “You alright, buns?”

“Mhmm.” You nod and close your eyes. “Just tired.”

There’s a soft chuckle from the two, and a soft kiss is pressed to your forehead. “Go to sleep then, buns. We’ll be here.”

You let out a soft sigh and relax. It doesn’t take long for sleep to creep up on you and you fall asleep soon, cuddled in the arms of your boyfriends.

[thebibliosphere]

I don't know if I'll ever finish it, but occasionally, I am reminded that I started writing crackfic based on a dream I had after playing too much Garden Life and also reading too many Nightwing comics, and I'll open up the document and laugh myself sick at how awful a time Slade Wilson is having in my haunted flower shop AU.

He's been ripped body and soul out of his genre and into a cozy Hallmark movie with undercurrents of cosmic horror, and there's nothing he can do about it. Worst of all, the human he kidnapped is unkillable. At least by him.

---

Slade took a menacing step forward, then stopped dead in his tracks, unable to move another inch. "The fuck."

He looked down at his boots, struggling to uproot them from the dirt-strewn floor. When that failed, he gave up and took a desperate swing across the shop counter. The little witch didn't even flinch. She didn't need to. The same invisible force wrapped around his arm, holding it in place as he strained his outstretched hand toward her neck.

"What the fuck did you do?" he demanded, arm shaking as sweat began to bead down his brow.

"Me?" she asked, far too innocently, like butter wouldn't melt in that smug, annoying mouth. "Bless your heart, dearie, that's not me. That's the plot armor."

"Plot what?"

"Armor," she repeated slowly for him. "I know you're familiar with the word. I've seen that discounted Spirit Halloween ensemble you call a costume."

Slade snarled, renewing his efforts to crush her windpipe. "I know the word. What does it mean?"

"It means I'm protected. The story can't advance without me, so you're stuck with me." She smiled sweetly. "Lucky you."

"Story? What story? What the fuck are you talking about?"

"This one," she said, gesturing around them as though that explained anything. "The one we're in. The one you pulled me into. The one I can't leave until you figure out whatever the fuck you're supposed to be doing. So if you could hurry up and do that, that'd be great. I've got shit to do, and it doesn't involve holding your hand through whatever bullshit character arc crisis you're going through."

"Lady," Slade breathed out through gritted teeth, "you are fucking insane."

"Oh, sweety," she drawled, leaning across the counter and causing his arm to draw back of its own volition, not allowing him to get a hold of her throat, as she patted him condescendingly on the cheek. Clearly, whatever bullshit proximity magic she was pulling didn't apply to her ability to touch him. "You don't know the half of it."

[the-thing-withfeathers]

…RIDE A COWGIRL!

a/n: okayyyy part 2 to save a horse! this one’s a tidbit longer just cause i uhhh may have gotten carried away. there’s also two smut parts in this sooooo enjooooy all that content.

part 1 | part 3

pairing: cowgirl!madison beer x reader

smut warnings: oral (r!receiving), strap riding, praise kink, masturbation.

warnings: parental arguments, criminal activity (super small), mentions of suicide attempt (non-main character), alcoholic drinks.

summary: you find yourself integrating slowly into farm life. yes, it’s a struggle. but madison makes it all worth it.

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

the farm has not been easy on you.

your first nail chipped last week and the rest simply followed suit. that wasn’t even your biggest issue. you’ve fallen on your ass so many times that someone could make bank if they had a dollar for each time it happened.

you even got shoved off a stool by stanley. you weren’t getting any better with him but you were definitely trying. cleaning his stable and brushing him when you could.

however, you could admit that things would be a lot worse if there wasn’t a beautiful brunette sporting her cowgirl hat to pick you right back up.

you never thought you’d be getting along with a straight-up country girl. all your friends were the same, raised in the city and went to the ever so posh local private school. perhaps, that’s where you went wrong in the first place.

“hey snappy!” madison approached you while you were deep in thought on your grandparents’ front porch— when did she mount a horse?

madison sat atop a gray mustang— who you’ve come to know as ‘travis’— you need to start telling your grandfather to choose better names. she held onto the reigns while the horse trotted closer to the porch, stopping before the stairs.

“come for a ride.”

who were you to say no to that smile?

you carefully approached, not wanting a repeat of stanley. you were still fairly cautious around the animals, they haven’t been very kind to you either. stomping whenever you did something wrong or making you chase them around. travis was a bit more approachable, probably cause madison was there. you stopped in your tracks.

“i don’t know how to get up there.” you sighed, dejected.

“okay.” madison smirked at you, dismounting the horse. she pointed to the saddle’s stirup. “put your foot in there then…” she pointed to the saddle’s horn, “put your hand there to help hoist yourself up.”

you put your foot in the stirup just as she said, grabbing the horn and slowly pulling yourself up. you felt the saddle move, freaking yourself out a bit and losing your footing. you felt a pair of hands grip both sides of your waist— it took you a second to process that madison was touching the skin that was showing from under your tied up flannel.

“c’mon, i’ve got you.” the sight was enough to make you weak to your knees, but those words— oh, those words had you. she pushed upwards, her hands reaching as far as your ribcage, to help you mount the saddle. her fingers, they were so calloused from working on the farm, yet they were so gentle and warm.

go up further, you thought.

“swing your leg over.” she ordered— and you didn’t even hesitate.

you swung your leg over, slowly adjusting yourself on the saddle. you had to catch your breath just then, you wanted her to touch you more.

“good girl!” she said as you got yourself up.

wait— fuck. good girl?!

“can you take your foot out of the stirup so i can get on?” she asked, looking up at you. you nodded and shook your foot a bit to get it off.

she followed suit, taking her place in front of you. “you’d better hold on.” she said, lifting her elbows for you to wrap your arms around her. you hesitantly put your hands on her shirt and bunched the fabric into little balls in your fist. she simply chuckled, holding the reigns and clicking her tongue twice, using the stirup to nudge travis and snapping the reigns softly.

you kept your hands tight around her white shirt. you were nervous, you’d never been on horseback before. the ride was slow, yes, but you had the feeling you could fall at any second.

“i’m surprised you’ve never ridden a horse before.” madison commented, “you never tried as a kid when you lived here?”

“i was too little.” you shrugged, gritting your teeth, you were holding something back. “i would’ve flown off.”

“you can still fly off when you’re grown.” madison pointed out.

“yeah, i know.” you said back.

“watch.”

“wait— what?!”

madison clicked her tongue again, snapping the reigns a bit more forceful this time and moving the stirups against travis.

travis nickered and started running. fast.

“MADISON!” you yelled, being pushed forward by the sudden force. you wrapped your arms around her waist tightly, your cheek against her back. you geniunely felt like you were about to get flung off.

you heard the cowgirl laugh, she was slightly hunched over to keep herself from getting flung backwards. you found her laugh to be endearing on most days, but not right now when she scared the living daylight out of you. how could she be so okay with this? how was she not terrified too?

she directed travis to take you both to the edge of the farm that overlooked a cliff. the scenery was beautiful. rows and rows of trees with a little pond of water in the middle of it. she dismounted first, then offered a hand to you. which, out of spite, you didn’t want to take at first but then realised how high up you were. you grabbed her hand and slowly lowered yourself off the saddle. you then stood beside her as she smacked travis’ behind, causing him to run off towards the farm.

“wait! what was that for? don’t we need him?!” you protested.

“i thought we could walk back, i scared you enough already today. and he’ll find his way back.” madison shrugged. you rolled your eyes at her.

“how considerate of you.” you said, your tone no short of sarcasm.

she waved to travis then turned to you.

“we talk a lot of work. i wanted to actually have a proper conversation with you.” she said, walking towards the cliff’s edge, a beckoning hand asking you to follow. the sun was about to set, and the sky was a color too beautiful to ignore.

“we have proper conversations…” you grumbled a little bit. you were partially terrified to talk about yourself. you prided yourself on a guard you had set up all those years ago when you realised the world was a lot harsher than people make it out to be.

“yes, about how fat the pigs are getting.” she retaliated as she sat down on the edge of the cliff. you hesitated, stepping back a bit. she noticed you, eyes wide in worry.

“you’re scared of heights.” she said, a massive smile growing on her face that you wanted to kiss off— no! punch off.

“i’m not!” you lied through your teeth, stepping forward but then stepping back again when you saw what was below you. hundreds of feet of air to fall through.

“i saw it. you were scared to mount travis earlier. and now, you won’t sit next to me.” she said, scooting over. “c’mon…” she opened her arms over the free spot next to her. “i’ve got you.”

she seems to “got you” a lot.

it was getting on your nerves a little bit how small you felt. you had walls in place to stop you from seeming so helpless, but madison seems to tear them down without even trying.

you inched closer, practically gripping the ground when lowering yourself into the spot next to her. she wrapped her arm around your waist, securing you into place. you tried to ignore the hot pink flush that covered your cheeks.

“why did you move to the city?” she asked you, looking over the horizon.

“my parents got new jobs. they went from working in town to big shot corporate jobs. i think my dad was kind of happy about it, honestly, he isn’t much of a farm guy either. my mom, she was upset though. but i have no idea. i was just a kid when we left.” you said, starting to ramble. you don’t ramble.

“i see.” she nodded.

“have you always lived here, madison?” you asked, you figured it was only fair that she had to answer questions too.

“well, i live in the next town over. it’s about 20 minutes that way.” she pointed in the general direction of her town. “but no. my dad’s in the army so we moved around a lot before finally settling down. but i’ve always lived on farmland.”

“moving around a lot couldn’t have been easy.”

“it wasn’t. but we made do.” she shrugged her shoulders. “and it’s not like i could do anything about it.”

you went quiet again, your eyes unwavering from the sunset in front of you. when it got dark, you broke the silence.

“how did you come to work for my grandparents if you live in the next town over? surely they have farmhands here.” you teased a bit.

“ouch. you sayin’ you’d rather have someone else?” she held a hand to her heart.

“well…” you teased again. “no. but i’m just curious.”

she sighed and stood up, it seems like you’ve hit a nerve. you didn’t mean to. “let’s walk and talk.” she held a hand out for you to take. with her help, you lifted yourself up and she led you away from the cliff.

she tucked her hands into her pocket and started making her way down the trail. “right. so… three years ago, my father was discharged from the army. unfortunately, he didn’t get any help from the trauma that he faced— i’ve noticed it happens to veterans a lot. at one point, he took off in the night and we had no idea where he went. turns out, he crashed his car into your grandparents’ farm.” she shifted a bit, showing slight discomfort.

“oh…” you whispered. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to pry.”

“no, it’s okay. you would have found out from a google search, honey.” you found it irritating how she still managed to make your stomach jump despite the conversation. “they pulled him out of the wreckage and called the ambulance. they stayed with him and kept him alive until they got there. i’ve been indebted to them ever since. they kept refusing my help but—“

“but you can be persistent.” you chimed in, jabbing at her a little bit to lighten the mood. she seemed to take it well.

“yes… actually. i can be persistent.” madison nodded, laughing softly. “so… i know it’s probably a sensitive topic but i’m curious too… why did your parents send you all the way out here?”

you stopped in your tracks for a second. you knew the question would come up, you were just wondering if you would tell her or not. she noticed your sudden freeze.

“you don’t have to—“

“shoplifting.” you cut her off. “i was shoplifting.” you admitted. “they said i’d lost touch with reality too much so they sent me here… which is ironic because the farm is as far away from reality as possible. but i guess they meant that i needed a humbling experience— well, it’s been humbling.” you chuckled dryly.

“you’ve been doing well.” she smiled and put a hand on your shoulder. “and we’re glad to have you here, if anything.”

“thank you, madison.” you just nodded at her and kept walking.

you two started to approach your grandparents’ house again. you walked towards the door but noticed madison stayed back.

“are you not coming in?” you asked.

“nah, i gotta get back for dinner.” she waved her hand in dismissal.

“you’ll be safe?” you asked, unsure where the sudden concern came from.

“i will be.” she tipped her hat at you. you hated when she did that, and that hatred reflected right at your core… your very warm core. she started to walk away but sharply turned back to you.

“oh! my friends and i are going to the rodeo tomorrow. and then we’ll go to the bar next to it. you should come and join us.” she said.

you had been so busy with the farm that you forgot to have a social life. you didn’t have any friends here except madison. you thought it would be a good idea.

“i’d love to.” you nodded, holding the door open for yourself.

“okay, pick you up at 6 tomorrow.”

“i’ll be waiting.” you chuckled, waving her goodbye.

you walked into your grandparents’ house and peeked through the curtains, making sure madison made it out of the driveway safe enough.

you made your way up to your bedroom to wait for dinner to be ready. you closed your eyes for a second, thinking about madison and her family. you wondered how someone could go through that and be as strong as her— it was admirable. you admired her.

as those thoughts ran through your head, you cut yourself off— what were you going to wear to a rodeo?!

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

madison was at yours at 6pm on the dot the next day. she was excited to take you to your first rodeo, and she was excited to have a new friend. her small town friends were close to her heart but it was nice to have someone that bantered with her as well as you did.

she knocked thrice on your front door and your grandmother answered.

“oh hello there, sweetie. she’ll be down shortly.” your grandmother giggled a little bit, why was she giggling? “come in, come in.”

madison followed after her and took her hat off, holding it close to her chest.

“i’m glad you’re taking her out for once. she’s gonna need some people around her to make it through this.” your grandmother said.

madison smiled warmly at her then heard your footsteps descend from the staircase. her jaw dropped the second she saw you. she knew you were beautiful but seeing you like this— this got her good.

you were in a white floral backless dress, very southern bell of you. you wore new brown boots that matched the dress and your hair was done up with curls.

“oh… you look…” she started.

“different?” you asked, teasing her.

“no… well, yes. but in a good way— the best way.” she smiled at you, taking you in.

“thank you.” you said, approaching her. you two were almost chest to chest then you put your hand on her hat. “get that thing on and let’s get outta here.” you said.

she nodded and put her hat back on her head. opening the door for you, she put her hand on your back to lead you out the door.

“m’lady.”

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

the rodeo was something you never thought to attend. it was rowdy and loud and you felt completely out of place. there was alcohol going everywhere and people screaming directly in your ear. you were happy to meet madison’s friends though; triplets named matt, chris, and nick that distinguished themselves by their different colored wardrobes.

you kept your eyes on the event in front of you. this distressed guy getting flung around by an equally distressed bull. he had one arm on the saddle while his other hand was waving his hat in the air. men were waving their fist at him, telling him to hold on.

you found yourself laughing softly when he was flung off into the wall.

“it’s too bad. he lasted a fair bit.” you turned to madison, who was holding a beer in her hand.

“he did. but that bull is relentless.” she said, standing up with the masses as the event came to an end. she offered you a hand.

“that was… definitely something!” you said, taking her hand and standing along with her. “i’d love to come and see it again.”

“really? after all that flinching you did when someone would scream?” she jabbed at you.

“shut it. i had fun watching some poor dude get thrown off a bull.” you laughed.

the crowd started funnelling into the bar next to the showgrounds. it was a massive two-story bar filled with people. the second floor was pretty much one big balcony that overlooked the first floor, which contained a bar and dance floor with a stage & dj booth on the far end.

“care for a drink?” madison asked you, your hands still interlocked. you nodded at her with a smile, “you seem like a non-beer person. a cocktail maybe? for my pretty little southern bell?” she asked, a teasing tone before starting to walk off.

“shut up! i can handle beer!” you protested but then went after her a bit. “wait! you’re right though! no beer!” you called after. you walked off with the triplets to find a table by the dance floor.

you patiently waited for madison to get back, you spotted her making her way across the dance floor with a coke in one hand and a cocktail in the other. she spotted you as well and put your drink on the table in front of you.

“vodka raspberry for the princess.” she said, smirking at you while she took a sip of her beer.

“thanks…” you said, picking it up and examining it. sure, you were surrounded by alcohol all the time. your friends back in the city loved going out and your parents kept a liquor cabinet. however, you weren’t incredibly big on it. you took a sip and raised your eyebrows.

“okay, not bad.” you said, approvingly. “definitely a bit sweet.”

“well, this just means we’ll have to find your poison.” she put her drink down on the table. “you’ll come out more with us then.”

a smile grew on your face when the triplets nodded, all three of them sporting different drinks. your heart felt warm that they all wanted to see you again. you were doubtful that you would all get along at first, being from different upbringings. but you realised that the upbringing didn’t matter, they had a kindness towards you that not even the city itself had.

“what did you get?” you asked her.

“just a coke, i wanna drive you home safe.” she smiled and took gradual sips.

“looks like you’ll have to teach me to drive your truck one of these days then.” you joked with her but madison loved the imagery of you driving her truck.

music started blaring across the shitty speakers that hovered over the dance floor. you recognized the song from ‘footloose’. you heard cheers and suddenly heard stomping from upstairs, everyone was starting to crowd the dance floor. the triplets & madison excitedly got on their feet, madison holding a hand out to you.

“c’mon, ‘bout time you learned a line dance!” she said, you shook your head quickly.

“hell no, i can’t dance to save my live.” you pulled back.

“you’ll do great!”

“no, madison. trust me. you don’t want me on that dance floor with you. i’ll step on your toes.” you stared at her with wide eyes.

“mads! c’mon!” nick called after her with a beckoning hand as the chorus approached.

“okay! okay!” she called after him. she turned back to you. “fine, but you can at least watch.” she raised her brows at you and you nodded. she ran to take her place beside nick and several whoops were heard as the chorus hit.

‘hey mister won't you sell me a fake I.D’

you watched as madison followed the line dance. her footwork was impressive but you had no doubt that it would be. her hips were moving along to the music.

‘there’s a band in the bar that i’m dying to see’

her boots would hit the ground with a ‘clack” when she would do the hops required for the routine. you couldn’t take your eyes off her body. she moved with such a natural flow that you would have thought she was making it all up on the spot. she laughed as the dance went further along, clearly enjoying herself. you wish you had her confidence.

‘i got my money and you got what i need’

oh god. her hips bouncing to the music. the part of the song that required everyone to swing their asses out nearly killed you when she did it. your eyes trailed down her body. the skin of her stomach was starting to show as she moved rigorously. she was toned. toned to all hell. and her legs looked incredibly strong, like they’d be able to take any kind of work. she suddenly caught your eye, licking her upper lip and winking when she got the chance to face you as her ass swung out. your breath hitched, your eyes studying her.

‘hey mister won't you sell me a fake I.D’

the crowd of dancers did their full rotation, ending the routine with four claps. they started breaking off into their own improvisations when the music would keep going. you watched madison jump around, laughing with the brothers and putting her arms around them. the brothers started to deviate, dancing with the rest of the crowd. another girl pulled madison to the side and started dancing with her. they kept their distance for quite a but until madison pulled her in by her waist.

it was no secret that madison could sense the tension between the two of you. she’s caught you staring so many times. but she wasn’t one to just give in easy, she wanted to see what it would be like if your confidence suddenly skyrocketed. she started dancing with this girl during the tail end of the song, she was just having fun at first then she had an idea. she started pulling her closer until they were chest to chest.

a fire burned in your belly… was it jealousy? it couldn’t be. nope— it definitely was. seeing madison dance with that girl, you wish it was you. your instincts were telling you to step in and take your damn chance, but your feet wouldn’t move.

go, go, go.

and before you knew it, you downed your drink in one. standing up quickly, you swallowed your damn pride and practically stomped over to where madison and the girl were. you didn’t know how to interject, she wasn’t even looking at you.

you suddenly cleared your throat, gripping onto madison’s shoulder and spinning her around. she smiled when she saw you behind her.

“hey princess.” she grinned, standing still. the girl waiting to have the attention back on her.

you didn’t give her any time to speak before your arms were around her neck. you’d gone clubbing before, you knew how to keep a beat. the problem was that this wasn’t the club, and this wasn’t a club beat. but you were going to try.

you dipped your hips to the music, swaying side to side. madison caught the hint, her hands flying straight to your hips and her face lowering itself into her neck. she kept her hand on her hat to keep it steady. your hips swayed in unison, fitting together like a puzzle piece.

she knew her plan had worked when you pulled away and started to sway your shoulders too, pulling her closer to you while you stepped to the beat of the song. she was excited to see you building the confidence to put yourself out there.

“i thought you’d never come.” she had a shit-eating grin on her face.

“well, i couldn’t deny you a dance.” you said, putting your hands on her shoulders, still hopping to the beat a little. “you looked like you needed a partner that could keep a beat.” you said, sneering a bit at the girl.

she chuckled at your jealousy. “that i did, darlin’, that i did.” her hands back around your waist, pulling you closer and suddenly dipping you as the song stopped abruptly. “you did good.” she said, lifting you back up.

before you know it, she was taking the hat off her head and placing it on yours. “look at you, baby. you fit right in.”

you stared up at her with a rosy pink blush on your cheeks, a shy smile growing on your face. you… you were wearing madison’s hat. not that other girl. you were glad your efforts were successful. she had chosen you.

you failed to notice the triplets snickering in the background. they were fully aware of the superstition of a cowgirl putting her hat on someone else’s head. madison was aware of it too, but she wasn’t going to give you that satisfaction just yet.

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

after a couple more drinks, you were all ready to hit the hay. you bid your goodbye to the triplets and madison opened the passenger side door for you.

you settled into shotgun and buckled your seatbelt, waiting for her to get into the driver’s seat. you caught a glimpse of yourself in the side mirror. you were still absolutely, undeniably still wearing her hat and you revelled in the sight. you smiled to yourself as she hopped in.

“what’s on your mind, doll?” she asked, putting the keys in the ignition and starting the engine. you remained silent as she let the car warm up.

“nothing major.” you said, looking over at her. “just… never thought i’d enjoy myself this much at a place like this.”

“you mean a rowdy small town country bar? that’s fair enough. i didn’t think i would at first either.” she chuckled and started driving off. “i’m sure the city has it’s fair share of fun but nothing beats the solidarity you get from a place like this.”

“yeah… i suppose you’re right. we all kind of get to the club and branch out back home. it was nice to see everyone dance together.” you toyed with your hands. “i’ll have to get a hat.”

madison grinned at your statement. “or you can just keep wearing mine.” she would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy the sight of you in her hat. her hat.

“right. it looks better on me anyways.” you joked, running your pointer finger and thumb along the brim. madison glanced over at you, letting her gaze linger.

“it looks better on you. but it also looks right.” she said. you didn’t exactly register what she meant by that, you just met her eyes but then let out a sly smile. using your pointer finger to push her jaw.

“eyes on the road, cowgirl.” you scolded her. she just laughed and turned to look at the road again.

as you pulled into your grandparents’ driveway, you leaned back in the passenger seat.

“thank you for tonight.” you hesitantly took the hat off your head and placed it back on madison’s. while you leaned over, you gave her a kiss on the cheek. “we’ll have to do that again.”

“we will, sweetheart.” she nodded in agreement. she couldn’t hide the smile forming or the red tint that started to cover her cheeks.

“and you promised to let me drive your truck next time so…” you said as you slowly opened the passenger door.

“hey! i didn’t promise anything.” she called after you as you hopped out.

you slowly started to close the door but your gut started to speak to you. you didn’t want the night to end— and it shouldn’t.

you poked your head back into the car. “madison.” you called her name to get her attention.

“mm?” she asked, leaning over to look at you better.

“wanna go for a ride?”

it was madison and her shit-eating grin against the world.

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

madison drove you two to the barn. when she pulled travis out of his stable, you couldn’t help but find it adorable how the horse had so much of a liking for her, practically leaping in excitement.

when she placed his saddle on him, you noticed how strong she actually was. had that strength developed overtime? would you ever become that strong? you asked yourself these questions, never taking your eyes off her.

“c’mon then.” she said, making space for you to hop on.

you walked over to travis, placing your foot into the stirup just as madison taught you. she held your waist as you hoisted yourself up. you noticed how warm her hands were against your revealed skin, you found it comforting as the breeze hit. she hoisted herself up after you, but she sat behind you instead. her full body warmth made you settle in even further.

“not in front?” you asked, turning your head slightly to see her.

“nope, you’re leading on this one.” she shook her head.

“but… i don’t even know how to make him go.” you said, hesitantly holding onto the reigns.

“you snap the reigns just softly or else he’ll start running. and you nudge him a little with your foot. i usually click my tongue but that should be enough to get him going.” she said.

you followed her instructions, snapping the reigns. however, you think you overdid it as travis started to run instead.

“fuck!” you exclaimed, trying to get a better grip on the saddle as madison leaned over, holding your hands on the reigns. her hands covered yours as you felt her weight on your back. it was nice, comforting, your worry practically disappeared when she did that.

“that’s okay, you got him to go.” she whispered into your ear, slightly tugging on the reigns to slow him down. her voice sent shivers down your spine, the cold air made it worse.

you carefully led travis for just a few minutes around the farmland, stopping at the fenced off area and turning back around.

madison’s hands never left yours while you completed the ride. her warmth never left your back either, keeping you safe from the cold. she even moved your hair to the side so she could rest her chin on your shoulder, she chalked it up to being watchful as it was dark and you two might run into something.

she was totally lying.

as you both arrived back to the barn, she dismounted before you. you shifted your body and took your foot out of the stirup and hopped down, using madison’s shoulders for support.

the tension was incredibly hard to ignore at this point. you felt like you could cut it with only a butter knife. you felt your stomach do backflips whenever she’d say something to you. you were going soft for her— and not only that, you were weak for her. you had to do something or else you’d be left wondering forever.

“madison.” you said, calling after her.

“that’s me.” she snickered, looking over at you.

you were walking over to where she was standing, just outside travis’ stable. you stood nearly chest to chest with her.

“before we left, matt told me about the supertition about a cowboy— or cowgirl putting their hat on a woman’s head.” you cheekily smiled at her, teeth showing. she froze up, eyes widening. “and not only that but they told me what happens when a woman does the opposite.” you said, reaching up towards her hat and taking it off, putting it on your head.

she stared at you for a second, eyeing you up and down. she licked her lips slowly. the sight of you in that dress, wearing her hat. she hoped you wouldn’t find out about that but she should’ve known better since the triplets were around. it was all too much for her head to bear, she thought she was going to explode. you fit right into her entire livelihood, it turned her right on.

she stepped forward, her mind losing full control of her body. she captured your lips in a head-reeling kiss, nearly knocking her hat off your head. you wrapped your arms around her shoulders, butterflies immediately forming in your stomach as heat rushed to your core. she wrapped her arms around your waist, quickly pulling you in closer. her tongue swiped your bottom lip, you found yourself letting go, opening your mouth ever so slightly.

she slipped her tongue in your mouth, finding herself exploring it. you let out a soft whimper at the feeling. you started to feel yourself get pushed back gently, until your back hit a barrel of hay. she lifted you up on top of it, you slightly matched her height now. the hay was a tad bit scratchy but that was on you for making your move in a barn. she pulled away, you whined softly at the loss of her touch.

“the things you and your pretty little dress do to me, baby.” she said, reaching behind you to undo the bow that kept your dress up behind your neck. the top half of your dress fell down, revealing your chest. madison smirked. “and not even a bra? jesus, darlin’, what are you tryna do?” she asked, yanking you closer to her so she was directly in between your legs. she took one of your breasts into her mouth while the other hands started to ride up your thighs.

you let out a soft gasp at the sudden contact. she was sucking on your tit like she was a woman starved. your hand resting behind madison’s head started to grip onto her hair when she bit down on your nipple, coaxing a moan out of you. she was only working at your top half but you already started to see stars. she moved onto your other breast, stopping right before the nipple and started sucking on the soft skin around it.

she was marking you. marking her territory. you knew farmers were protective of their land, madison was just as protective over you. she wanted to stake her claim on you— her pretty little wild city girl that she wanted to tame.

while her mouth worked your top half, her hands were multitasking on your bottom half. they moved further up your thighs and her thumbs tucked themselves onto the loops of your underwear. she made contact with your other nipple as she pulled them down slowly, you pulled her head closer, wanting more. she felt some resistance from your panties and realised that when she took them off, the crotch part was dripping— it had stuck to you before she pulled them off.

“christ, baby. you’re already so wet. do i turn you on?” she smirked at you, holding your panties between her fingers and holding them up. you blushed and looked away from them, trying not to look so ashamed.

“baby.” she said, more firm this time. you hadn’t heard that tone from her before. her strict persona made you even wetter, you loved that she took control. “answer me.” she ordered.

“you turn me on.” you whispered, still not looking at her. she chucked your panties over somewhere, you were sure they landed on the work bench. she leaned closer again, placing soft kisses on your cheek as she pushed you onto your back. you saw her take off her flannel, leaving her in a gray tank top, she rolled her flannel up and put it under your head as a pillow. you made sure to keep her hat on while she did that.

she hiked your dress up, bunching it around your waist to reveal your bottom half. you watched her as she unbuckled her pants, lowering them ever so slightly and you caught sight of her underwear. she raised her tank top a bit, revealing her abdomen. you saw her put a hand down her pants as she kneeled down on the ground in front of the hay barrel.

she positioned your legs to have one be over her shoulders and the other was pushed back a bit more, spreading you open for her. she peppered kisses on your thighs, you felt yourself practically almost finish from just seeing her head between your thighs. your arousal was hard to miss, more wetness rushing down, practically dripping onto the hay.

she paused for a moment before licking a stripe up your core, you gasped and gripped onto her hair. your legs shook already with the contact.

“fuck! madison!” you exclaimed out of shock.

“my name sounds good on your lips, baby.” you felt that god forsaken grin form on her lips, you didn’t even have to see it.

without warning, her lips latched around your clit, her tongue circling it. your eyes squeezed shut, your heel digging into her back, emitting a groan from her that sent vibrations through your core. you watched as her arm started moving while she ate you out. she was touching herself to your noises, her fingers circling her own clit. she was so turned on by you that she couldn’t help herself.

you moaned loudly, finding it hard to hold back. she sucked harder on your clit, one of her fingers finding its way to your hole, simply teasing it.

“oh my god, don’t stop!” you said, gripping your own breast for support. your hips were rutting against her mouth, trying to push yourself closer to release. she stuck her tongue out and stopped its movements, letting you practically get yourself off on her mouth. she eventually shook her head, her tongue flicking your clit multiple times.

“doin’ so good, baby. riding my face. you just can’t help yourself, can you?” she quickly went back to latching her lips around your clit, her finger finding its way into your hole properly. she inserted her fingers into herself as well, wanting to be as one with you as possible, wanting to feel the same things you were feeling.

“fuck’s sake, mads!” you said as she pumped her finger in and out of you, mouth still working wonders. the nickname spurred her on, starting to bite down on your clit just a bit. “just like that! oh my god! just like that!” she curled her fingers inside of you, making your back arch as she hit that most sensitive spot of your body. she started letting out soft moans from her own self-pleasure, sending more shivers up your entire body.

you felt that knot build in your stomach, your legs started to shake as your grip on her hair got stronger. she knew you were close to finishing, and who was she to stop you?

“cum f’me, baby. you can do it.” she mumbled, loud enough for you to hear. “cum on my mouth.”

“mads! i’m cumming!” you said, releasing straight into her mouth. you heard her grunt softly, her movements stalling for only a split second as she lapped at your release like it was her last meal ever, holding your shaking legs in place as she did. you were so sensitive and this wasn’t making it any easier. “mmph, mads… sensitive.” you said but she didn’t pull away, she wanted every last drop of you.

you let out a relieved sigh as she pulled away. the arch of your back lowered as you were panting, still laying on this damned hay barrel. she stood up, taking in the sight of you. sprawled out in front of her with your tits out and legs still slightly open.

“my pretty girl… someone ‘oughta teach you that if you rile up a cowgirl, you’re gonna get your money’s worth.” she said, licking her fingers clean and wiping her glossy lips with the back of her hand.

you let out a breathless chuckle.

“oh… i think i learned that.” you laughed, sitting up from your position. while you did, you caught a wet spot on madison’s jeans, laughing to yourself.

“someone enjoyed herself too.” you said, trailing your finger down her abdomen and down to the wet spot. you felt her inhale sharply when you did.

“hmm… well, i had to take advantage of the sight in front of me. makes for wonderful jerk-off material.” she teased.

you shoved her backwards lightly, laughing at her joke. she leaned down to kiss you after stabilising herself. you tasted yourself on her.

you wanted more of her, you wanted all of her. all of her in her southern glory. and she wanted you just as bad.

“well then, pretty girl.” she said, tipping her hat down onto your face, covering your eyes. you whined and raised it back up. “if you do all your chorin’ well tomorrow, you might just get a prize.”

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

the next day, it was straight back to work for the two of you. you spent half the day shovelling dirt with a 6am start, then you and madison decided to start helping your grandfather out with fencing. he warned you to be careful as the fencing was delicate and could snap, it’s caused serious injury in the past. he tasked you and madison to work closely together to avoid that— not that you were complaining. you got your fair bit of teasing in.

when your grandfather wasn’t looking, you would turn around and run a hand down madison’s toned body. it caused her to shudder a few times. you even sneaked in a little neck kiss, causing her to turn you around and force you back to working.

it made your head reel whenever she would take control of you, finding it harder and harder to resist her.

you complained and complained. you talked about how hot it was, how dirty it was getting. you could feel madison shoot you a dirty look but you couldn’t help but make several comments about the state of the farm. you knew you were in for it when madison pulled you into a forceful kiss, shoving you backwards to shut you up. you never said a word after that.

after a long day, you both were covered in dirt. your grandfather said he could drive you back but madison cut him off, making a fake excuse how you wanted to see the animals. you had no idea what she was up to.

when you both arrived at the barn, you waltzed right in, walking over to travis and petting his head while only giving stanley a short wave. you walked over to the sheep, peeking into their pen.

“their coats are getting larger, pop says it’ll be time to sheer them soon. i wanna see what they look like without all their hair.” you said, distracted while madison was checking on stanley.

“they look like freshly peeled potatoes.” she chuckled. “you’ll be the one sheering them, y’know?” she patted stanley’s back. “your grandfather told me yesterday how he can’t wait to teach you.”

“i find myself learning a lot nowadays…” you sighed a bit. “doesn’t seem like there’s any time for a break.”

“no… the farm is harsh.” she shook her head, walking back over to you. “it’s always needing something. but that’s nature. nature needs humans just as much as humans need nature.” she said, reaching down to hold your hands and pulling you to where the workbench was.

“wow… who knew you were such a poet, mads?” you giggled at her, following where she led you.

“you seem to inspire me, baby.” she moved to sit down on the bench, pulling you closer. she kissed down your chest as she lowered herself down. she undid the flannel that you had tied up to keep it from flying everywhere while you guys worked.

“mads… what’re you doing?” you whined, running your hands through the hair that was hanging out of her hat.

“remember when i said you’d get a reward for working hard today?” she asked, untucking your top from the denim shorts you were wearing. “i intend to keep my word.” she mumbled while kissing your stomach.

“oh? is this your idea of a reward?” you asked, heat rushing straight down to your core when she left kisses on you.

“mmhm… you were being a brat today, you should be thankful i’m still giving it to you.” she said, muffled. she pulled away suddenly and you watched her with curious eyes.

“do you know that saying about saving a horse?” she asked, unbucking her belt and unbuttoning her own jeans. she raised her eyebrows at you as she lowered them down, revealing a purple and pink strap on. your eyes widened at the sight of her leaning back, her strap on full display for you. “ride a cowboy— cowgirl, in our case.” she said, a smirk on her face.

“mads… i don’t think i can take it all.” you said, playing with your hands.

“you can, darlin’. i know you can. but you’ll have to get it lubed up first.” she eyed you up and down, her pointer finger pointing to the ground. “get on your knees and suck my cock, baby.” she said, a hint of dominance in her eyes. you loved how comfortable she was with ordering you around. it made you feel less weak, less like you were fragile.

you obeyed, getting on your knees and looking up at madison through your lashes. she bit her lip looking at you, feeling her own arousal as she saw you on the ground. you took her cock in your mouth and started bobbing your head, your hands wrapping around the base. she groaned softly, the sight of you had her wishing that it was her actual cock. she loved seeing you submissive for her after you were being a brat today.

she leaned her head backwards, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. she looked back up and made direct eye contact with you.

“fuck… darlin’, you look so fucking good on your knees for me, using that pretty little mouth of yours.” she said, leaning her head back again but not too far, making sure her hat stayed on. “that’s it baby, get it nice and wet for your pretty pussy.”

you loved the way she talked to you. the words were filthy but you couldn’t help but notice that she used ‘pretty’ to describe you. it made you feel good about yourself, like you were doing something right.

you felt her hips start to move slightly, thrusting upwards into your mouth. it hit the back of your throat and you gagged softly, pulling away and coughing.

“sorry baby, was that too much for you? i just couldn’t help myself. i wanted to be as far in you as possible.” she said, leaning forward to grab your arms and pull you up. she helped you take off your shorts and pulled the back of your thighs forward until you were kneeling on the bench, straddling her. “let me make it up to you.”

she put two fingers in between your thighs, the pad of her middle finger circling your clit. you felt youself get unstable for a second, the sudden contact making you already weak.

“does that feel good, baby?” she cooed at you, looking up at you with a grin on her face. you nodded in response. “yeah, i bet it does.” she said, a cocky tone in her voice. her fingers moved away from your clit, mocking up and down your slit. “so wet.”

“mads, please.” you whimpered, your hands holding onto her shoulders.

“okay, okay. you’re right. what princess wants, princess gets. and i have to stretch you out a bit anyway.” she said, slipping two fingers into you. you gasped softly. you felt madison press kisses into your chest, her other hand pulling your shirt down to release one of your breasts, taking it into her mouth. she only pumped her fingers in and out a few times before pulling them away.

she scooted around a bit until her strap was aligned with your hole. “ready, baby?” she asked, gently running her hands up and down your waist. you nodded, your bottom lip in between your teeth. “okay.” she muttered.

she pulled your hips down slowly, watching you swallow her cock whole. “fuck!” you cried out in pain at first, never having experienced anything as big as this. you just sat down on madison’s lap until you adjusted to her size, your face buried in her neck as you tried to catch your breath. when she felt you loosen up a bit, she lifted you slowly, pulling you straight back down. the cry of pain turned into a cry of pleasure.

she pulled away slowly, trying to see your face. “you can do it baby, ride my cock. ride my cock like a good girl.” she said. you sat straight back up and started to bounce on her cock, your hands still on her shoulders as your eyes fluttered shut.

“madison, it feels so fucking good.” you said, moans leaving your mouth every single time you sank back down, taking it whole. you started to arch your back into her, wanting more stimulation. she caught the memo placing both her hands on your back and pulling you down even harder. she started to kneed one of your breasts with her hand.

“look at you. riding me like a real cowgirl. you’re so fucking sexy.” she said, you could practically hear the grin on her face. “you’re not so tough now when my cock is in you, huh?” you shook your head, holding back a whimper as she took your nipple between her fingers, toying with it.

“want you to fuck me harder.” you muttered. “i want more of you.”

she started to buck her hips up, the noises of your skin smacking against each other filling the barn. she started to grunt softly as well, her head leaning down on your shoulder. with the remaining strength you had left, you picked up her hat off her head and placed it on yours.

she couldn’t help but pull away again, just to look at you wearing her hat, riding her cock. the state of you was enough to make her cum right on the spot.

“you look so good in my hat, doll.” she said, keeping her pace of bucking her hips. “lookin’ like a real cowgirl.”

you started to feel that tension build up in your belly again. you were starting to get close to sweet, sweet relief.

“mmph, getting close.” you said, beads of sweat starting to form on your forehead. your pace was starting to get sloppy, your thighs trembling with each descent onto madison’s cock.

“yeah?” she asked, one of her hands moving to rub your clit at a quick pace. “that’s it, cum for me baby. cum on my fucking cock. you know you want to.” she coaxed it out of you. “good girls cum.” she said.

with that, you completely came undone in front of her, that knot in your belly snapping as you came down hard. you leaned forward, face tucking into madison’s neck as the two of you panted, practically in sync. your eyes opened again after being squeezed shut. you saw stars as they opened back up, pulling away from madison’s neck to kiss her.

“we need to get you a hat of your own soon, sweetheart. you look too damn good in that.” madison chuckled through pants.

“i like wearing yours though.” you whispered, still trying to catch your breath.

“yeah? i like you wearing mine too.” she smiled at you, pushing the wet strands of hair that stuck to your neck back so she could place soft kisses down.

she slowly helped you stand back up, pulling her pants up and pushing the strap back into her underwear.

“that horse better be feeling really saved right now.” you giggled.

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

madison drove you back to your grandparents’ place. she walked you to the front door where your grandparents were sitting on the porch swing to your right.

you were still reeling from your earlier orgasm that you didn’t see them right away, stumbling as you made it to the last step.

“oh! careful darling! are you alright?” your grandma asked.

“yeah! just a bit sore from today.” you quickly defended yourself while madison stood behind you holding a laugh. she decided to chime in too.

“yeah! with those legs, she’ll be a cowgirl in no time!”

[dqllgarden]

all you had to do was ask

kinktober 2024

day 1: handjobs

wade wilson x reader

—

Wade sat on the couch watching TV as you sat on the floor between his legs. You had been teasing him for the entire movie, turning around to rub your hands up his thigh or rest your head a little too close to his dick. You knew what you wanted but you were too shy to say, so you stuck to stupid hints.

Wade on the other hand got fed up with how you were teasing him.

“Need something princess?”

You shifted to face him, eyes away from the movie and looking up. You didn’t answer, instead sliding your hands up to the button on his pants and started toying with it.

He clicked his tongue and moved your hand away with a tight grip on your wrist. “Use your words.”

Wade knew you were too shy to do anything, especially speak up about something you wanted, something you needed. It’s not like he would deny his sweet princess anything, god no. He just liked watching your face turn all red when you asked for it.

“Can I please touch you?” You buried your face into his thigh out of embarrassment.

“Oh sweetheart, you just had to ask,” he teased you, releasing the hold on your hands to grab you by the hair and pull your face up to look at him, “I’ve been eyeing your pretty little hands all night, been dyin to feel them around me pumpkin.”

You smiled at him before reaching back up to his pants button. He helped you slide them down so you could touch him easier, and boy was he right about thinking about this. He was already hard and wasted no time subtly matching the pace of your hand. He’d never directly admit it but you had such a hold over him. Anything you did turned him on and made him fall for you even more.

He pretended to keep his eyes focused on the movie but it was impossible to ignore the way you looked up at him, eyes wide with a shit eating grin on your face.

“That’s it baby.. fuck you’re so good at this” His hand went to his mouth to stifle his moans as he got closer.

You continued stroking him as he came all over your hand, giggling at the mess he’s made of himself. When his high was over, you licked your hands clean and sat up on the couch next to him and he kissed your head. “Thank you pumpkin, should I return the favor?”