#but! the yearning for friendship is still there!
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Erin: Hey Flynn-
Flynn: ( jumps a little) O-oh! E-Erin! Hey!
Erin: ..... Actually, nevermind-
Flynn: Oh, no, wait wait wait- d-did you need something,I'm sorry-
Erin: Stop apologizing, you- ( sighs) You're still so jumpy around me. If you don't want to be around me, just say it.
Flynn: N-no! That's- that's not what's going on at all!
Erin: Then what? We've known each other since we were kids-
Flynn: A-and that's what makes it so weird!
Erin: .....What.
Flynn: Y-you can't tell me all of this is weird, right? We- we used t-to just exist a-around each other! W-we never really talked o-or anything or really knew each other and-
Flynn: A-and now we're in this new space where we- we a-aren't the same a-as we used to be you know? E-everything has c-changed so quickly...I'm still reeling....
Erin: .....
Erin: ( turns away) So you want to go back to how things were. Is that what you're saying?
Flynn: .....I don't know. Being brave....is so hard. E-even now but- ( she takes a deep breath) I-I want to be a person who can at least try to be! S-so.....so!
Flynn: ( takes a step toward, taking Erin's hand) I want to get to know you, Erin!
Erin: ?!
Flynn: I-I always thought that- that being your friend was just some far off dream.
Erin: ....You really thought that?
Flynn: Y-yeah! Y-you were always so cool....a-and a little scary but....you were still always there. I-I would imagine t-talking to you, b-but never had the courage too.
Erin: ( shrugs) Eh. No offense, but I doubt I'd let you in, back then ( looks down at her hand in Flynn's) ......You really want to know me?
Flynn: ( nods, eyes brimming with determination) Y-yes!
Erin: .....Heh.( takes Flynn's hand, and grips it a little tighter. She smiles a little) The name's Erin. Nice to meet you.
Flynn: ( smiles with confidence that she thought would never exist) My name is Flynn! I hope we get along well!
#HGVHVGVGVCG HI THIS WAS MADE ON A WHIM#okay context: flynn and erin basically knew each other since they were kids.#as in they were always aware of their presence bc their frequent trips to the library#but they never really talked. like. at all.#flynn was far too shy and erin was honestly pretty closed off.#so they simply existed around each other#and enter the present: they're both different people than who they used to be#and Flynn is still kinda. getting used to that.#of everyone erin is both the person she feels comfortable around.....but also not.#since again they've both changed and Flynn doesn't know what to do#but! the yearning for friendship is still there!#flynn just has to be brave and she is!#okay that's all lol#oc: flynn 🌺#should i main tag this#this is kinda cringe-#.... okay i will for now#pokemon rejuvenation#pokemon rejuvenation erin
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u ever just have some time to urself to think about bkdk (ur first mistake, bc u are now spiraling) and how it's the "[A] fell first [B] fell harder" trope and how that's like. more or less canon now. perhaps not romantically but how else are u gonna describe bkg's whole ... thing
#man has realized his feelings for deku and it has changed him so dramatically that he DIED#u know how it goes. deku falls first during childhood where he admires and fawns over bkg from afar#always happy to see him happy and viewing him as the image of victory from the beginning#then shit happens and now bkg is left yearning endlessly upon realizing how his mistakes growing up ruined their friendship#and he doesnt see himself as quite worthy of deku's forgiveness but he tries anyway and he is SADDLED with UNNECESSARY FEELINGS#and then he DIES and literally while he dies he is STILL YEARNING#and for what? TO HOLD DEKU'S HAND????????? 😭😭😭😭😭#these bitches are awful i hate them sm#bakudeku#bkdk#becki rambles about stuff
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I talk so much about how i want to fall in love for all the things i could do for someone and all the things someone could do for me but deep down, if i’m being honest, i want to fall in love because i just so desperately need to know that love is actually real and that there are people out there capable of truly loving me
#wlw#wlw mood#sapphic#sapphism#lesbian#just like growing up and losing so many relationships#friendship and family relationships all of it#it’s hard to remember that there are people out there who can love you and that that love will stay#regardless of whether or not you can give them something#idk all the love in my life just feels gone and i don’t really think there’s anything i love anymore sometimes#but then i remember the world is big and i should stop worrying so much for now#i dont know my life is a mess lately#and it’s 5 am and i haven’t slept#and im still grieving things#and hope and patience are so hard sometimes#and there’s something about the ugly side of the whole idea of ‘yearning’ that i think about a lot#because so much of my yearning ISN’T pretty or wistful#it’s achingly desperate and lonely and uncertain#i dont know#i dont know if any of this is worded right#or if it’s all nonsense and i should just be quiet and go to sleep#idk
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In another world--
That one scene from Pride (tee hee) and Prejudice but its um... Them.
More versions under the cut!
I couldn't decide which frame style I liked so here's a bunch!
#i am not immune to a good p&p moment obviously lol#its about the Mutual Yearning ya know? delicious#im still playing around with what my girl is gonna look like in vg#fun fact - she removed her vallaslin as an act of trust (lmao) and now uses henna to fit in and look Properly Dalish :)#i need a scene of rook showing the inquisitor around the lighthouse - any kind of relationship with solas would be interesting!#even friendship and low approval would have some gems im sure#rant over time to mourn the 'past adventures' that carry over lol#dragon age#veilguard spoilers#datv spoilers#dragon age spoilers#dragon age the veilguard#solas#lavellan#solavellan#fenharel#young solas#dreadwolf#my art#jesus fuck there's a lot of da tags lol#i think i got the main spoiler tags but lemme know if i missed one!
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making a collection
making another collection with a threatening aura
#davy back fightbpart 3 letsgo#HOW do the three big guns get wasted on the eating contest... horrible plan.... luffy is fine bc well... but not sanji and zoro like damn.#luffy DOESNT WANNA EAT??? CALL THE NAVY!!!!#what was i saying.... bad idea putting the three beasts there#FRANKY FRANKY FRANKY!!!! they captured the two princesses :(#one sided beef squashed between luffy and foxy. friendship ended with random ex marine guy. now luffy is my best friend#usopp and franky bonding time hell yeah. throw usopp by the head once more pelase#nami with zoros swords just like holding them looks so cool like she should get a few swords too... nami three sword style oda drawing pls#i think this man underestimates nami and luffys power together he doesnt know about shiki#luffy saying he knows its a trap and sorry for being late.... lets go on an adventure all nine of us.... usopp yes anding his lie..... omg#cant believe nami isnt there yet. she could take this guy. oh there she is!!!!! she does look cool with the swords and jumping to get luffy#zoro screaming in agony from luffy getting shot omg THIS FUCKING GUY OF COURSE!!! this looks like its so over#zoro and sanji must feel so useless rn. they didnt even get the chance to fight like damn#komei-kakka??? more like come caca. boom#luffy face down dead on the floor akdjkaa chopper have you tried looking at the wound to see if it harmed him idk#it hit the face akdjskn usopp that was coom also#was robin flirting with the other guy and zoro caught her and she told hum to shut up???#'your friends got the best of me but you are still in my arms an-' 'HEAT EGG!! ALSO YOU'RE ON FIRE!'#flare maneauver that was so slay also luffy and nami in the same frame so twins of them. my children. birthed them one right after the othe#zoro and sanji fighting back to back. back to back to back to you i dont wanna fall right back to us maybe you should run right back to her#that is such a bop song. also post wano zosan. and post wci. see the recurrent theme#fighting in water.... being on top of the sword that was a slay... red hawk ace i will never forget you it seems#foxy liking his jolly roger omg nami fooled him ahdhsjs i think they should have pirate game event every year they yearn for contests#now since this experience foxy should make monthly multitudinary pirate games olympics hoping the strawhats join them a la gatsby#the faces at the mushroom akdhaksjs#talking tag#watching one piece#watching one piece movies#kinda loved how robin betted on franky against usopp.... i will take the crumbs
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2024 reads / storygraph
At The Feet Of The Sun
book 2 in a slow paced high fantasy duology*
the right hand of the emperor (who is off searching for an heir) struggles with what to do after passing on his responsibilities and also discovering various pieces of information that are mindblowing to him, personally,
after adventure is thrust upon him, he travels to find His Radiancy and they go on some otherworldly adventures while growing closer and figuring out the nature of their friendship
(*there’s extra novellas & i think another book coming? duology adjacent, currently,)
#At The Feet Of The Sun#lays of the heart-fire#aroaessidhe 2024 reads#giggling and kicking my feet. and also crying#bro the yearning….the yearning#I can definitely see why this loses people - it’s so long and very self indulgent#(listen. i enjoy it a lot . but does it need to be THAT long (i just checked. 375k? lord))#but it is easy to read and also very funny. it felt less repetitive than the first book to me#I did find it hard to keep track of some of the side characters though#The first world-travelling stuff caught me off guard initially - I feel like all the weird magic was more background in book 1?#or maybe I just didn't pay attention.#taking a step back it is a bit like - kip sure does achieve everything and then some and just continues to achieve everything huh#and it gets to a point where it's like.....okay yes I get he's so talented at this etc etc.#but I guess it’s a nice change of pace from the kingly swordfighting fantasy protagonist who’s perfect and wins everything -#someone whose skill is people and negotiation in a humble way is a bit more interesting. still. it maybe felt less grounded after a while?#the deep exploration of platonic yearning and desire for strong friendship and fear over that person just wanting romance/sex#when that’s Not what you want out of the relationship………#not to mention his complex feelings over meeting two people who were like his platonic soulmate rolemodels#and then finding out they just used that term because gay relationships weren’t accepted and trying to not be disappointed#(because gay is also good!) but also like. so lonely in feeling like nobody understands his desire for a platonic soulmate#to be treated equally as romantic relationships are. oof#I am a little baffled to see people interpret it as a romantic asexual relationship?#I feel like that does such a disservice to the . everything that has been set up in what 600k words of books#like the implication of that is that you think other romantic rships w/o sex are unheard of in this world. I find that hard to believe idk#(I mean - a bit romantic on fitzroy’s end; and in the nebulous queerplatonic area between friendship and romance; sure#but like a straight up romantic relationship just without sex - I don’t understand how it could be interpreted that way lol?)#(anyway other people’s interpretations don’t matter)#I do have questions about the telepathic dinosaur soulmates. you can’t just mention that and now show me them#also. kip being like 'wait there were sirens? i wonder if i can hire them' kshfkjsgkf#asexual books
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my phone fuckin Dead and its been just one day but i keep attaching it to blorbo experiences. liek oh....i am completely unreachable... like tide lambert across the sea.... or oh.... me scribbling in my little note book.... i am like the william wisp.... i took a nap dakota colestyle. i have a favourite knife like vyncent sol. idk what im gonna attach to the winters family yet but oh boy itll sure be something
#im like one of those renaissance women who sit by the window and daydream now#im like one of those people who bake#im like one of those people who remembers their kindle exists and Reads On It#but still.... still.... i yearn for phone#for friendship....#just like ashe in that fucking house all those years AYOO
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I am a mosaic of everyone I have ever met, but the parts of me that come from you will always ache the most
#wlw#lesbian#yearning#homoerotic friendship survivor#I would still drop everything for her now…#I am also very drepressed x
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The way Touga and Saionji have a measure of closeness and understanding only once Saionji is brought into the fold of Akio’s grooming the way Touga has been this whole time…something something the inherent isolation of abuse
#and they can’t even articulate why. they can’t even acknowledge what’s happening is abuse GOD#they can only yearn for and feel warmth about a past that doesn’t exist#hell for touga one that stopped existing far earlier than it did for Saionji#just. goddddddd.#csa mention#tunes talks utena#all this time Saionji wondered why he can’t bridge the gap between him and touga#why he’s ‘special’ and ‘favoured’ and Saionji isn’t#why he can’t understand Touga anymore (if he ever truly did even as a kid)#and now he does. and now he looks at all of that and despairs - realises he still thinks of touga as a friend#KNOWS deep down the discomfort of what is happening to him (otherwise he wouldn’t be so despairing imo) but there’s nowhere to go#there’s only the place where eternity dwells and the prince and a small taste of true friendship at the end of it all#and a fool who can’t desert it#TWO fools to Saionji if his words @ Utena are any indication
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It's so wild and refreshing to me to want to be HERE. In my country. In my general area. Where I am
#for years I've yearned for people from the screens in other countries and always wanted to be elsewhere and it gets hard#especially being left untethered after relationships break or friendships fade#I still have friendships but this is my place right now and whatever I need to find next I have to find it where I am#trying to bond with people locally feels like I'm in school again. super worried it won't work yet so happy when it does#there's an uncertainty to it and it's. different#but also last few times I was with people I didn't feel the need to be on my phone at all save from showing the person something#which is. foreign to me#idk. something is changing and shifting towards what I've been searching for. just a bit#the steps have been small. and are still small. it's like climbing up a spiral staircase#been going on forever. long way come and nowhere near the top#but it's like I just passed a window and noticed the view is really nice out#this was brought to you by: upstairs neighbour woke me up at 4 again#bien rambles
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Unrequired sapphic culture is writing a whole movie script about the horrible homophobic girl who neglected your friendship and never accepted you as gay because you're in love with her and you hate her and- *whisper* wait, that's just me?!
Fuck
#wlw#lesbian#wlw yearning#wlw ramble#wlw blog#this is a wlw post#sapphic#unrequited love#unrequited feelings#tw toxic relationship#tw toxic friendship#toxic friends#for the record: i still love my girlfriend. i just also have very strong feelings for this person who's been in my life forever and#who has hurt me more than anyone else; and like she is an AWFUL person - but she was still my first friend and crush
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google am i on the aro spectrum or am i just a teenager
#ideal partner: someone i can flirt with and do romantic things with but most importantly we just hang out and talk about our hyperfixations#ik a lot of ppl say that your partner should also be your best friend but idk i just dont want the whole established relationship aspect#boy asks me do u love me and im like hell yeah bro we r good buddies . boy asks are you in love w me and i short circuit#google help i am yearning so bad but i dont want a partner i just want to meet someone my age who i actually enjoy the company of#we can do Romance Things for fun but thats not the point. the point is reblogging each others posts on tumblr#i think this is just a result of my elementary school years being so lonely like i never had a friend for more than a year#and even the friends i did have we were never close at all#the longest real friend ive had and consistently talked to ive still only known for like almost 2 years#which is a lot. for me. but the concept of just . any sort of commitment even just in friendship is still so foreign to me#and yeah it would help if ive ever actually had a serious crush on someone that i was sure wasnt just a hyperfixation#but that hasnt happened yet and idk at what age i should finally just label myself and stop waiting for it to happen
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More people need to notice that it isn't always the writing that makes something good but if it can provoke thought
Because holy shit I just read a fic that writing wise I've read better but it got me thinking so much. Like that's now a good fic in my book it got me thinking so much about the character the fic was centered about. The author clearly understood this character and their relationships with the other memebers of casts.
There's parts I wish were excuted differently BUT it wasn't my fic and honestly when I THOUGHT on those things it made sense.
LIKE THAT'S THE THING this fic got me thinking so much. Even with parts I didn't exactly agree on they still provoked a lot of thought
#it was a PMMM fic btw#it was also a crossover#but I'm mainly going over how much this got me thinking about Homura#and for a character so commonly misunderstood by the fandom she was written so good#listen I'm already normally insane about the relationships within the Holy Quintet#but this got me thinking so much about them#especially Homura's yearning to be happy with everyone again but knowing there's too much at stake#the fic takes place in one of the timeline#so I knew#I knew from the start this fic would end FUCKED UP#it did#it ends with a reset and Homura waking up in her hospital bed#but like the fic sets up this sense of hope#like Sayaka doesnt witch out (she still dies but)#Mami lives longer#Mami and Kyoko rekindle their friendship#or at least start to#Madoka hasn't contracted#but then againist Walpurgisnacht everything goes to shit#Mami starts to witch out and Homura has to shoot her#Homura has very complicated thoughts about killing her mentor as previous timelines it's never been her to directly kill her#then Kyoko is slowing dying#and then Madoka contracts#and then reset#there was so much hope#just to be swept under the rug#Homura had hope again in this fic that this would be the final timeline just for everything to fall a part last minute#LIKE I HAVE MORE THOUGHTS BEHIND THIS#but I only have two tags left
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no i dont want to fall in love but yes i want to be someones person. yknow.
#maybe we can kiss platonically but i refuse to fall in love#just give me a qpp TBfuckingH#idk w therapy and w healing im more focused on finding community rather than 'the one' bc i already tried that and that left me w trauma#& also the idea that a lover is going to fix all my problems? not accurate. life wont get better just bc of a lover. it should only add#like the things that i have yearned for in a lover besides the actual like kissing & sex part can be found in friendship#i just need some good friends. good close and true friends which is something im still ultimately searching for#i just want a friend group man :/ people to belong to :/#freys babble
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traces of you:
your height penciled on the wall of my family home—snugly between mine and my sisters
the tear in my favourite pyjama bottoms—from that almost-spring night we were dancing through my montreal apartment with the windows wide
your lipstick print on my bedroom wall
the mix-matched teabags collected in a box that live in my cupboard, untouched
the green flannel shirt i thought i gave back to you—now messily tucked away amongst my sisters clothes, completely rid of your smell
bob dylan’s lay lady lay on my playlists—the song you texted me after our first midnight kiss
your pink socks; i still wear
the pillow you made for my 18th birthday—the holes in the side stitching continue to open, a mark of your unfulfilled promise to patch it up
a black-&-white photo booth polaroid of us kissing still lost between an anonymous book’s pages somewhere on my shelf
tree bark and sea shells
a box of handwritten cards, addressed from you to me
my nickname—the traces of your voice in every call
a tube of your once-favourite red lipstick—i wonder now if you’d still wear it and feel pretty
your note in my middle school yearbook—hope and promise and nativity marked in blue pen
your figure in my dreams—always appearing, even seven months in
#all the things i didn’t give back or tuck away into a box#all the things i couldn’t get ride of or hide#you’re everywhere still#what you get from 9 years of friendship and 3 years of love#what to do what to do?#sad today#i will add to this bc there is always more i forget about#personal#writing#my writing#heartbreak update#poetry#lesbian#heartbreak#yearning#greiving#grief#sad
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— sugar, sugar
[part ii] | [part iii] | [masterlist]
wolverine/logan howlett x neighbor!f!reader
rated e - 6.5k
tags: asshole friend!wade, (sorta soft) roommate!logan, baker!neighbor!reader, flirting, mutual yearning, immature humor, a reference to while you were sleeping, wingman!wade and the worse way to meet someone, light angst, oral sex, swallowing, fingering, v. light ass play, unprotected PiV, appearance of The Claws, what’s a refractory period, sorta audible voyeurism (brief/humorous)
a/n: includes spoilers for deadpool & wolverine (which omg I loved - what was your fave cameo?)
Your eccentric neighbor Wade may drive you a little up the wall… but, you’re willing to put up with him if it means he’ll introduce you to his new, grumpy-looking roommate.
“You gonna introduce me?”
You’ve cornered Wade in the apartment’s laundry room - the door to the front-loading washer hanging open as he holds a bundle of red fabric up to his chest.
“You think this will wash out?”
The suit in question looks like it had been run over by a truck and then set on fire, with the rips criss-crossed in the leather and the numerous charred holes scattered across the chest.
“Definitely.” Your eyes flicker down, and then back up, “So, will you?”
He bundles the suit up - flinging into the back of the washer, the laundry basket still tucked under an arm.
“Really? Not even ‘hello, Wade’? ‘Looking good, Wade’?” His voice pitches up, imitating yours, “Does our friendship really mean nothing to you?”
You wouldn’t necessarily call Wade Wilson a friend.
In fact, he’s honestly the worst neighbor you’ve ever had.
Loud, obnoxious. Persuasive - the first night you met you had been banging on his door at three in the morning, yelling at him to shut up as music and a caterwauling voice blared through the shared wall.
Ten minutes later you were playing the drums on his late night session of Rock Band, using a banana and a wooden spoon in place of sticks. Only for Althea to stomp out of her room and shut everything down, scaring both of you out of your skins.
But sometimes, you think - remembering the times he came through for you, a shoulder to cry on, helping him this slump he’s been digging himself out of - he might just be the best, as well.
And maybe that was friendship, after all.
You sigh, leaning against the row of washers. Eyes flicking over him, a small smile tugging at your lips.
“You do look good, Wade,” There’s a tilt of your head, the smile widening, “Glad you lost the toupee, that really wasn’t your color.”
“Ah, ah. Repurposed,” He chides, cupping his crotch, “You wouldn’t believe how much I’ve missed-”
“Ew, stop.” Your face scrunches, a hand covering your eyes as you shield your vision, “Will you please just answer my question?”
He throws a handful of shirts in the washer, “Which was...?”
Your head shakes - a hand on his arm as you reach for a glint of gold in the pile of clothes. Cringing as a handgun appears, held gingerly between thumb and forefinger as you set it on the side table.
“Good call,” He nods, “Dry clean only.”
You can't help a laugh then, even as your hands brace on your hips, “I want to meet your roommate.”
He frowns, “You’ve met Blind Al.”
“Jesus, Wade. Not Al." A hand waves, " I mean Mister Tall, Dark, and Brooding.”
You’ve seen the stranger in the hallways a few times in the month since he’s moved in. Scruffy and scowling the first time, a silent shadow behind Wade’s endless chatter.
But in the weeks following, that look had softened. You’d stopped by twice with cookies to welcome him, but every time you’ve just gotten Al.
Not that you dislike Al, that’s not it at all. She’s sweet enough to you when it’s not 3 a.m. or if Wade doesn’t have her annoyed half to death.
But you certainly weren’t harboring a crush on her. Maybe even secretly hoping that maybe the new neighbor will get a little lost and end up at your door, instead of his new place.
“Ooh,” The syllables draw out - detergent flung in, before he’s leaning against the washer too, facing you. “Yeah, Logan. He's great, got a mean ‘Hugh Jackman’ vibe, just without the singing. You’d like him.”
Something like hope flutters in your belly, but then he’s raising a finger - wiggling it at you, “Just one question though. What’s in it for me?”
That has you scowling, “What do you mean? You owe me. I covered for you when you had that barqueue in the stairwell.”
“God, that was great sausage.” Wade groans, thinking back, “Mmm, but I think Peter covered for me.”
“Who do you think got Peter?”
“Well, I don’t remember seeing you.” He shrugs.
“I was right-,” You pinch the bridge of your nose between thumb and forefinger, a sharp exhale of breath, “Fine. If you do this for me, I’ll do that thing you keep asking me to do.”
Wade gasps gleefully, “You mean you’ll make the triple decker-”
“-chocolate caramel cheesecake chimichangas. Yes.” You finish with him, arms crossing over your chest, “You’re lucky you heal fast because that should put you right into a food coma.”
“Right. Lucky me,” He smirks. A second as he thinks, before he snaps his fingers, “I’m having a little get-together tonight! You should come. Was gonna invite you anyway.”
The pounding in your head ratchets up at the thought that all this could’ve been avoided.
“Logan sleeps on the couch, though,” He adds, sagely, “So just letting you know that if the two of you decide to get your fuck on in my bed, according to the state of New York I am legally allowed to join you.”
“Thanks for the warning,” You grimace - even if you’re certain that cannot possibly be true, “But I do have my own apartment.”
“Oh, right.” There’s the faintest edge of disappointment in his tone, paired with a sigh.
You give him a sideways look, then.
“I saw Vanessa leaving yesterday. Things getting better?”
He sobers at that, eyes moving towards the sliver of a window. The glimpse of the street outside.
“Yeah.” Wade manages, “Yeah, I think so.”
There had once been a flicker of something. In-between your annoyance and exasperation, there were tendrils of tenderness. Long snuffed out, when you had seen just how banged up his heart was. How it’s always belonged to another.
You had gotten over it. Gotten to a place where seeing him now, like this, makes you smile.
“I’m really glad to hear that.”
He smiles, then.
“Thanks. Me too.”
“Hey, hold on.” Wade darts in front of his roommate, a leg kicked up high to block the doorway, “Where are you going? You can’t go out.”
Logan scowls, an arm already shoved into his leather jacket, “Sure I can.”
The blow against his shoulder might move a lesser man, but Wade’s fingers just grip the frame even tighter, “But I promised-, I got a friend that wants to meet you. There is some really important shit at stake here. I can’t let you go.”
An eyebrow cocks, “Can’t? I think we both know how that would go if you tried to stop me.”
It would be easy to get into this right here and now, but his suit is still in the dryer and he’s not about to spend another hour cleaning up blood.
“Wait, wait, wait,” He throws a hand up, “Aren’t you listening to me? A girl wants to meet you. She’s hot, she has a job, and she has an apartment. You’re only one outta three there. Can’t you see what a good opportunity this is? This is totally in your favor!”
Logan scoffs, his tongue tucking against his teeth. Hesitating for just a second, but it's enough that Wade knows he’s got him.
“I’ve met your friends,” He eventually acknowledges, “They’re good folk and all, but there isn’t anyone there I’d like to ‘get to know better’, yeah?”
“You haven’t met this one. She lives next door.”
The pause stretches longer this time. Dark eyes dart out into the hallway, and Wade can practically hear those rusted gears turning.
“Apartment 16 or 18?” Logan finally rasps, his arms crossing.
Oh, he’s definitely got him. Just call him Wade Wilson, New York’s own personal Cupid. New life goal - get his friends laid.
He nocks a mental arrow - aiming, and then firing with his answer.
“18.”
Another beat passes, and then a sigh.
“Alright.” The leather sleeve slips from his arm, drooping in his fist.
“Five minutes. That’s all I’m staying.”
Wade’s fist pumps.
Bullseye, motherfucker.
The apartment is packed and it’s been well past the allotted five minutes. Logan’s been nursing a beer for the last fifteen, eyes flicking over the people he’s grown to know well.
Offering a tight, half-smile when the big man claps him on the back, followed by Opposites Attract. Almost tempted to find that damn dog, just to have something to do.
Or maybe, just bail all-together.
Starting to think this was all an elaborate prank. Some fucked up aspect of this Earth, unknown to him until now.
He’s too old for this shit. If he heads for the bedroom now, he might make it out the fire escape before anyone notices.
Logan is still entertaining this new thread of thought until he hears his name - called out over whatever fuck-face bullshit boy-band music Wade’s been playing.
Ambiance, his ass.
The muscles of his crossed arms flex. Catching the way his roommate hauls a girl across the floor - the look of panic on her face as she tosses a container onto the nearest surface.
Wade hadn’t been lying, after all. It was Apartment 18 - that was about as much as he knew about you.
Other than the color of your eyes. The smell of your perfume in the hall. Your hair, your schedule - waking in the mornings to hear your door opening at 5 a.m., five days a week.
A baker. A damn good one, from the bits of cookie he’s snuck when no one was home.
Had never thought to introduce himself, because he’s been through all this before. Knows better than to reach out in the first place - still nursing the old wound of heartache, one that still flares to life in his chest.
Better not to hope, or even think, at all.
You stumble when he lets go, and Logan’s hands only curl tighter. Afraid to touch, now that you’re so close.
A pretty young thing compared to him. This was a fucking stupid idea, his eyes darting away as Wade claps, his hands spreading wide.
“Logan,” Wade’s tone is cordial, as if discussing the weather, “This is our neighbor, Sugar. She bakes a mean penis cake and likes emotionally unavailable men.”
A dejected sigh as he regards you, “Which is why it’s never worked out between us. I am just too available.”
Penis cake?
Logan shoots you a sideways look, an eyebrow cocked. Caught off guard by this unexpected intro, and it seems you are the same - gauging by the way your mouth drops open.
Your face swimming with regret, as you hiss, “Oh my god. Wade. It was one time. Why do you have to put it like that?”
Wade’s smile widens, his tone still innocent, “Just skipping over the ‘getting-to-know-you’s, so you can know if you’re compatible.”
Already pivoting to face Logan with a little wink, his own scowl already deepening. Something like nerves flickering to life - as he wonders if this will all be over before it ever begins.
“And this is Logan. He’s from another Earth, is two-hundred years old, and has a metal dong.”
Jesus Christ.
Logan’s teeth grit, before he snarls, “It’s not made of metal-”
Out of the corner of his eye, catches the curious dip of your gaze. Past the folded twist of his arms, the flannel, down to his thick belt buckle.
A knock rings out then, interrupting him from any further clarification.
“Ooh! Door,” Wade thumbs over his shoulder, “Go on now, we’ve got some good energy going here. Sugar and spice, I love it.”
A spin on his heel, and he’s leaving them alone. Silence a lingering companion for a long moment, before Logan turns.
“Nice to meet you.” He seethes, jaw working as he shoots daggers at Wade’s back. A hand extended - he’d manage that much at least.
Waiting for you to make an excuse and run, but all you do is fit your hand into his. Soft and strong and a near perfect fit.
Logan doesn’t touch people much anymore unless it’s a hand around a throat, or claws buried deep into a chest. Had almost forgotten what it was like, even if this meeting is close to his own personal version of hell.
“Nice to finally meet you, too.” Your smile is wry. Hands still clasped a moment longer, until he’s withdrawing.
Your hands shove into your back pockets. The tilt of a head as you regard him, and he lets his eyes meet yours.
They’re pretty, like the rest of you. Captivating even, if he could use such a word, and Wade’s words ring out in his head.
She wants to meet you.
He’s wondering if that’s still true. Maybe you’re wondering the same, with the way you look at him.
“So,” You begin, awkwardly - another unconscious flick of your eyes,“How does-”
“Uh-uh.” Logan’s head shakes. He’s picked up a couple things living with Wade. Never used to be a bargaining man, but he has to admit it has its uses.
“If you wanna know, you gotta go first.”
He hates you.
He must, with the way he’s scowling. Thighs spread wide as he sits on the couch you had gestured to, fingers in a vice grip around the bottle. No doubt plotting a dozen ways to ditch you the second he can.
Who wouldn’t, with a meeting like this? You could kill Wade, cheeks burning as you sink into the worn cushions next to him.
That is, until your knee knocks against his. The muscles in his thigh flexing - but Logan lets it rest, instead of pulling away.
“You gonna-?” His voice is gruff, a low rasp that makes goosebumps raise across your skin.
“Uh, sure.” Your fingers twist, “Which part did you want to hear about?”
His eyebrows lift. Those dark eyes beneath, almost a hint of amusement in them.
“Right,” The little laugh that bubbles from you is self-conscious, “Well, I don’t really like emotionally unavailable men, they just have a habit of finding me.”
His voice is low, “How would Wade know that?”
“Mm, how would he know about your-?” Your eyes flicker down for the third time, and he shifts.
“You first.”
“Alright.” You huff, but you’re smiling now. Some of your discomfort easing.
Logan is even more handsome than you had thought. You like the way his eyes dart away, only to come back and linger.
It’s starting to make you think that maybe it’s not dislike that has so much of him hidden away. Maybe it’s just been a long time since someone tried to peel any of him back.
Maybe he’s as nervous as you are.
“Well, he’s had to scare an ex or two away.” You shrug, “He only knows because I told him. And the cake, oh-, that was him, too.”
You turn then, to face him. A shoulder brushing the arm he has thrown across the back of the couch, a flicker in his eyes as you get comfortable beside him.
“Well, Wade had gotten ripped in half a couple years ago,” You nose wrinkles, a wave of your hand, “And it all like, has to grow back, right? It’s so creepy.”
Logan grimaces at your explanation, and you wonder if he understands. You think he must - you had thought he was like Wade, in some ways.
Different. Special.
“Well, he uh, finished growing everything in,” You make a sweeping gesture over your lower half, “And the next year to celebrate his dickiversary, he ordered a penis cake from my shop.”
“His… dickiversary.” Logan repeats slowly.
The heat is back in your cheeks, but you nod, “Yeah, because it like, it came back and all. And he paid in cash, I couldn’t say no.”
There’s the smallest twitch of Logan’s lips, and it feels like a victory.
“Right. What flavor was it?”
Your smile widens with relief, “Strawberries and cream. It was so good. I’ll have to make it for you sometime.”
A second before you cringe, adding, “I mean, a normal one. Not…”
He hums then, close to a laugh.
“Sure. You do that.”
You smile, letting your shoulder bump his, “And with that… I think it’s your turn.”
The bit of humor in his expression flattens. A searching look thrown your way, before he inhales a breath.
Setting it free.
“I’m a mutant.”
Logan waits there, as if expecting something. You only nod, thinking of the ones you know. Colossus, Ellie, Yukio, Domino. Wade.
“Wade said you were similar to him. I had assumed-” You encourage, waiting.
“Right,” He seems relieved, some of the tension ebbing, “My powers are regenerative, like his. But unlike him, I have these-”
There’s the jerk of his wrist, and three sharp metal claws sprout from between his knuckles. Your gasp is caught in your throat as you cling to his flannel shirt - the surprise bleeding into worry.
They glint in the light, as his fingers flex.
“Adamantium instead of bones. All of me is like this.”
The claws sheath themselves inside him again. His wounds smoothing over seconds later, as he scrubs his knuckles across his jeans, wiping away blood.
Offering out his hand, after. Letting your grip unwind from his shirt, and press against his skin instead. Feeling the tendons in his hand, his wrist. The skeleton beneath utterly unyielding, a weight to his limb that is so unlike your own.
“Metal…” You trail off, as pieces click into place, “I get it now. So does Wade really think there’s like, an actual bone-?”
Logan huffs again, “Guess so.”
You laugh then. A thought sobering you after, as a fingertip drifts up to the dip between his fingers.
“But doesn’t that hurt?”
It makes you wince to even think about it. Much less how casually they sprung from him, no different than breathing.
He shrugs, and it’s heartbreaking.
“Doesn’t even phase me anymore.”
“And, the two hundred years,” Another facet you put together out loud, “You’re still alive because you keep healing? Will it be that way forever?”
His hand flexes in your grip.
“Not forever. Apparently my powers will run out, at some point.” His eyes meet yours, “The Logan in this world is dead. Wade pulled me from another.”
Your brow furrows - always trying to keep up with the snippets that Wade has told you across the years - stories about time-traveling and mutants and even how he came to be. But this seems too deep. Surely Logan must be joking.
“Another world, huh?” You ask, head tilting - trying your best to roll with it, “Won’t they miss you in yours?”
Only now does his face falter. That sharp mask cracking, as his hand pulls from yours. Resting again on the back edge of the couch - his answer low and rough.
“No. I don’t think so.”
Another jolt racks through your heart. You don’t know him know him yet, but you already can’t believe that could possibly be true. Your fingers fan out, hovering - before it folds into a fist.
“Well then, I’m glad you’re here.”
He doesn’t reply.
The room is darker now, dim with the setting of the sun. Street lights outside pouring in a golden beam that cuts across his face.
His eyes are hazel, you can see that now. A fading rim of green spilling into the brown, beneath the near-permanent furrow of his eyebrows.
Yours caught in the glow of the flamingo string lights that curl out from the kitchen, stapled to the walls.
He breaks the silence, the words coming slowly.
“Let me ask you one more thing.”
“Sure. You know some of my worst secrets already.” You smile, a shoulder lifting.
His hand twitches, where it rests near your shoulder. The tip of a finger ghosting against skin.
Just the slightest brush but it feels like it radiates out, lingering after.
“Why’d you tell Wade you wanted to meet me?”
His voice is still low, rough. But it’s lost that sharp edge. The combination has your stomach tied up in knots, suddenly more nervous that you’ve been the whole night.
Surely he must know?
“Well…” You hedge. It’s your turn to look away, but then there’s the brush of his fingers again.
“Because I did want to meet you.” You admit, “You, you seemed like someone I wanted to get to know. In whatever capacity you’d like.”
“Is that right, Sugar?” Logan husks, and the nickname sounds even sweeter on his tongue, stealing your breath.
All you can do is nod, as his eyes darken.
Voices rise behind you, ripping you out of this little bubble you’ve found yourself in. Nearly forgetting just how many people are here, how many eyes have been glancing your way since you’ve arrived.
“Not strip poker Wade, please.” The rough rumbling plea of Colossus’s voice rings out above the others, “You never wear anything under the suit-”
You didn’t even realize when he had changed, but he had - patches of bare skin on his ass showing through the holes. Your nose scrunches, before you turn back to realize that Logan’s eyes are still on you.
Dropping when your tongue peeks out to wet your lips - your words coming out in a soft hush.
“You want to get out of here?”
You want him. You can only hope that he might just want you, too.
The corner of his lip twitches.
“Thought you’d never ask.”
It’s strange to have someone like Logan in your space. You can remember the last time you’ve wanted someone here.
His fingers still entwined with yours, from where you had reached back for him. Leading him through the dim corners of the room.
Thinking you had made it, only for the rousing cheers to rise when you had cracked the door open to slip through.
His grip tightening when you made to tug your hand free, in an urge to press it against burning cheeks. Letting you fumble with one hand, to open the lock next door.
It’s quieter here. A low echo of the music next door, as the darkness wraps around you again.
Here, his fingers move, but it’s only to skim up your wrist. To tug you between him and the front door, until your back presses against it.
His nose brushes yours as he steps into your space, your lips already parting. Holding himself there for a moment, inhaling the scent of you as his arm braces above your head.
Leaving you to be the one that closes the gap. The tilt of your head and the press of your lips against his.
A rough hum when your arms wrap around his neck, fingers buried in his hair. His hand gripping at your waist, pulling your hips against his.
Tugging and pushing. A messy path from the front door through the small living room - a mirror-image of the apartment next door.
Through to the bedroom, wandering hands and the brush of his tongue against yours as he deepens the needy kiss. Until his knees are hitting the edge of your bed, and he’s letting you nudge him back onto the mattress.
He brings you with him - your hips cradling his as you settle yourself astride him. Hands flatten against his chest as you rock down - drawing a rough, mumbled “fuck”.
Grinding yourself down where he’s hard, the curve of his cock straining against his jeans. Letting your hands follow, as his own cup your ass. Squeezing, before slipping to press the heel of his hand against the seam at your clit.
You moan into his mouth, as your fingers curl around him. Eyes blown wide when you pull back, scooting your hips down.
It’s here that he comes back to himself.
Going tense as you fit yourself between his thighs, fingers at this belt as the other still cups him.
“You shouldn’t want this.” He rasps, those eyes glinting in the dark, “A man like me. You know that, right?”
Propping himself up on an elbow, so he can see your expression. So you can see the way his jaw grits, nostrils flaring.
It’s a warning, wrapped up in silk. A last ditch effort to scare you away - knowing that once he has you, he won’t want to stop.
Your fingers slow - his zipper half-undone, baring skin and a dark shadow of hair beneath.
The other pulling away, “You want me to stop?”
He catches your wrist, jerking your hand back. His hips bucking into your palm, grinding himself into your touch.
“The last thing I want to fucking do is stop.” It’s almost a growl, “But on my Earth, I-”
You sigh then, impatient, “Logan, this Earth isn’t all that great either. I lost five years of my life to the blip.”
He frowns, not understanding - but your head shakes as you continue, “I’m tired of being too scared to take chances. I’ve been trying to live each day to the fullest, and I’d like to end this one with you.”
And out of everyone - Logan knows a little something about second chances.
“Yeah,” He manages - the grip of his fist leaves you, “Yeah, okay.”
"Thank you,” You answer primly, just as you finish yanking the zipper down.
His hand beats you in the race to ease himself out, fingers curling around the base. You can’t help it - you inhale a breath at the sight of him.
Heavy, with the way the flushed tip bobs in his grip. Thick enough that you’re already wondering if you’re going to be able to take him.
The huff he makes turns into a groan as you start small - engulfing the leaking head with your lips. The first inch turns into another as his hips lift, feeding his cock into your waiting mouth.
Only when he’s halfway inside you, bumping against your throat, does his hand drop. Letting you replace it with your own - squeezing, as drool slicks up his shaft. Your head bobbing in time with the twist of your fist.
That brief hesitance is quickly forgotten. Fingers brush at your cheek, curling around the base of your head as he guides you.
Leaving you eager for more. Another hissed groan when your mouth leaves him, your hand loosening as you strip your clothes away.
“Oh fuck yes,” He coaxes, when he realizes what you’re doing, “Let me see you, baby.”
Your shirt and pants left to pool on the floor. A second of boldness as you unclasp your bra next, leaving you in your panties as you focus on his cock again.
A bitten-back moan when your tongue slips across his swollen shaft - an low throb between your thighs as you rub them together, clenching around nothing. Resisting the urge to slip your hand beneath the hem to ease the ache.
Instead, your keep your hands on him. Goosebumps raising as your nails scratch against the deep v of muscle at his hips. The others working him into your mouth, as he slowly comes more undone.
His hips flex with each bob of your head, lips parted as he pants. The words a rough mumble, becoming almost desperate.
“That’s it sweetheart.”
Another moan when you take him deep, hollowing your cheeks as you suck, “Oh fuck, gonna fill that pretty mouth.”
His hand cups your jaw, holding you steady as he bucks into your mouth. Those dark eyes fixed on you in wonder, all that pretty skin bared for him to touch, to taste. He’s mesmerizing like this - the weight of gaze. Jaw slack with pleasure, eyes aflame.
You did this to him.
It sends something warm flooding through you, as his eyelashes flutter. The tipping back of his head, muscles ticking in his cheek as his teeth ground down.
A sound still slips between them, as he floods your mouth with the next flex of his hips. Pulsing between your lips as you swallow him down, a choked sound ripping from his chest when you cup his sack to gently squeeze out every last drop.
Logan melts into the mattress after, an arm thrown over his eyes as he catches his breath. His gaze focusing on you when he feels you squirm - dark, and hungry.
A lithe stretch of muscles as he moves - legs easing from beneath you.
“Hands and knees,” He commands, head tipping towards the bed next to him, as he rolls off. Kicking off his jeans as you listen, watching over a shoulder as the flannel and white tank underneath joins your clothes on the floor.
Your eyes widen at how toned he is - muscles rippling, the bed dipping as he fits himself behind you.
His broad hand at the small of your back, pushing your torso down against the mattress. A pleased hum then, fingers trailing just along the elastic edge of your underwear.
“Could smell how much she needed this.” The tips of two press against the damp fabric between your thighs, making you gasp, “Even next door. You want it that bad?”
It should be embarrassing that he could tell how much you desired him, but at the moment all you can think about is him touching you more.
“Yes,” You agree, “Please, Logan.”
“So fuckin’ polite,” The fingers withdraw; but only so his nose can replace them. A ragged inhale, just before his tongue drags against your clothed slit.
A groan against your skin as you cry out, before a finger hooks around the fabric, baring you for him to taste.
The heat of his tongue flattens against you - lapping at where you drip with need, a rough rumble in his chest.
“Sweet, too.” Another flick of his tongue, “Your name. ‘s fitting.”
You can’t manage words. Only his name, muffled against the sheets as your fists twist in them. Back arched as you resist the urge to grind yourself against his tongue, as it flicks against your clit.
It’s messy, how he eats you. You don’t think you’ve even had someone take you like this. Hungry, desperate even, as he devours you. The rumble of a groan against your cunt as his tongue delves inside you, stretching you open. Letting your slick smear into his beard, with how close he presses his mouth.
That need inside you thrumming. Winding tighter as he yanks your panties down your thighs. His palm flattening against your ass, holding you open as he licks you from clit to hole, then higher. Humming as you squeak, when his tongue flattens against your tight rim.
A thick finger nudging against you then, as his tongue dips back to your clit. There’s no resistance as it slips deeper, into slick walls that clamp down around him. It’s what you needed - that little bit more.
Unable to help rocking into the crook of his finger now. Whining when a second joins it, spearing deep and curling. Dragging against your walls, loud and wet and filthy with each plunge.
Your whimpers only grow louder. Needier, as his lips wrap around your clit. Fingers pounding deep, stretching you out. Leaving you babbling, your words slipping together.
“Don’t fucking stop.” Tears prick at your eyes, each breath a rattling gasp, “Oh my god you’re gonna make me come-”
He has you gushing, with the next flick of his tongue. A pleased groan as he feels your pussy tighten around his fingers, hearing the wail that is muffled into your pillows. That sharp pace slowing, his thumb replacing his tongue to draw your orgasm out until your legs are shaking.
His fingers sticky when they pull from you, only to slip between his lips - tongue curling around his knuckles, sucking them clean.
It leaves you floating above yourself. You can’t remember ever coming this hard, even by yourself. Only the tintest thread of disappointment as you drift, and it’s only that you won’t get the pleasure of his cock filling you tonight.
You would’ve liked to see what he can do with the rest of him.
Perhaps you can convince him to stay until morning.
But he moves behind you, instead. His knee pressing against yours, spreading your legs further. The rhythmic shuffle of skin against skin, as his hand slips from between his lips to fist around his cock.
“Tell me I can fuck you.” It’s not a plea, not with the harsh rasp of his voice. But it’s as close as you’ve heard, as he swipes the tip against your leaking pussy.
Smearing your slick on him, teasing at your waiting hole.
You don’t know how he’s hard again, but at the moment you really don’t care. Not sure if you’ve ever felt a need like this, your back arching further as you present yourself to him.
A twist of your neck, so your eyes can meet his.
“Fuck me, Logan.”
He groans, broad hands squeezing at your ass. Slipping up to sink his fingers into the flesh at your hips. Holding you steady as he lines himself up.
Your breath held, when you feel his cock start to breach you - muscles stringing tight.
“Relax, sweetheart,” He grits out, though not unkindly, “You can take it.”
Trying to hold himself back from filling you with a single thrust, with the way you’re already gripping him.
Easing himself into your heat. Two inches forward and then one back, and with each one you think you’ll feel the press of his thighs against yours. A low whine as your cunt makes room for him, that sharp stretch as it feels like he’s reaching into your belly.
Feeling full when he finally is flush, the weight of his sack kissing against your clit. His shoulders following the curve of your back, as a hand slips up to plant next to your head.
“Feels fucking incredible,” It’s mumbled against your skin, almost as if it hadn’t meant to say it.
“Mm,” You grin, your face tipping up to his, “Should’ve met you weeks ago.”
He smirks, a low sound in his throat as his mouth presses to yours. Starting a slow rhythm that drags his cock against your walls. Slipping until he’s halfway out, only to sheath himself again. Pushing the air from your lungs as he flattens himself, knees digging into the bed as your thigh spread wider - forcing him deeper.
It’s almost too much.
You hand shoots out, reaching. Wrapping around his wrist, nails biting against his skin.
It feels like he’s surrounding you. Each thrust a heavy weight that presses you into the bed. Splitting you open, until all you can do is squirm beneath him.
That pressure in your belly building again, as his hips pound. His breath, hot and panting in your ear as he chases his own end.
“Fuck, Logan.” You sob, “Harder-”
His tendons flex under your grip. Knuckles pressing flat against the sheets as he makes a rough sound in his throat.
Those claws unsheathing with his next thrust. Punching down into your mattress. Anchoring as he loses himself to the feel of you beneath him.
How tight and wet and warm you are, your arousal still sweet on his tongue. Fighting the urge to sink his teeth into your throat, as everything tightens up inside him.
“Sweetheart.” It’s a warning, rasped out.
“Come in me,” You whine, “Wanna feel you.”
He does growl then, at the thought of filling you to the brim, until he's leaking out of your pretty little pussy. Hips snapping faster, pinning you to the bed as he ruts into you. Each squeak of the bed paired with the sharp rip of fabric as his claws dig in.
Feeling how your body strings tight beneath him, how you clench down in anticipation. Wanting to feel you once more, before he gives in to his own desires.
“Come on, baby,” It’s hushed, murmured against your skin, “Fuckin’ give it to me-”
The sharp point of a canine scraping against your skin, his groan rough and throaty in your ear.
Your fingers work down to wedge themselves between your thighs. The tips brushing where you’re speared open, before circling your clit like his tongue had.
He has you mindless. Fucked out - that soft glow from your earlier orgasm shining bright as he tips you towards a second.
Burning at that tightly wound thread inside you, until the ends fray, and then snap.
It has you coming with his next thrust. A wail ripped from you as he buries himself deep, feeling the way your pussy clenches down around him.
Fingers still swirling, drawing out the deep pulses that fan out from your core as your toes curl, vision going hazy.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” He rasps, those sharp thrust slowing to a sloppy grind, “Make a fucking mess for me, there you go-”
Panting, as he groans. Another roll of his hips before he’s coming with you - teeth bruising skin as they sink into your shoulder. The sound he makes is broken as he spills into you, muscles clenching with each pulse that paints your walls.
Marking you thoroughly with teeth and come, the saw of his hips slowing until you both finally go still. A breath finally caught.
Blissed out, when he rolls you both to the side. His thighs still mapping yours, cock still notched deep. A thick arm thrown across your waist, his breath ragged in your ear as he catches his breath.
Your fingers drift, as you bask in your afterglow. Dipping into the rips in your mattress, knuckle deep.
There’s a grunt as you wiggle, the words low in your ear, “I’ll get you another, sweetheart. Just lost control for a moment.”
The thought doesn’t bother you as much as you’d think. In fact, you wouldn’t mind if happened again.
Only as your imagination runs wild, do you hear the muffled moan from the brick wall behind you.
“Fuck, that’s good.”
Dramatic and drawn out, paired with faint rhythmic noise.
A beat - before you hear mumbled protesting. The voice of someone talking with their mouth full, “No. Back the fuck off Peter, I’m not going to share.”
Eating. The fucker was eating his end of the bargain, ear pressed to the wall.
The next louder, “Alright, pay up everyone, Operation ‘Get Sugar Some Sugar’ was a success!”
You grimace, eyes rolling. Logan grunts behind you, the words mumbled out sleepily.
“Wish I could sew that goddamn mouth shut.”
There’s a faint “they already tried that!” before Logan’s fist bangs on the wall, shutting him up.
But you can’t help the smile. Your fingers fitting between the ones that rest just below your breasts, squeezing.
“He’s not so bad,” You admit, “Wade, I mean.”
Logan groans, “Don’t say his name while I’m fucking you.”
“You’re-” You start - but then you can feel him.
Still hard - as his hips cant slowly against yours. Your joined hands slip up to cup a breast - as his lips press against your neck, stubble scraping you skin.
“Again?” You breathe, disbelieving that he’d be up for a third time - your hips rocking back to meet his. The sound lewd with how he drips from you - but it only has him grinding himself deeper, “You sure you’re two hundred?”
“Regenerative powers, sweetheart.” Logan husks, the flash of teeth with a knowing smirk.
“Can’t say it doesn’t come with perks.”
I used to have the biggest fucking crush on wolverine, haha - so fun to watch a new movie with him!! 👀💕 thank you so much for reading! And please me know if you'd like to read any more for him! (like more one-shots,etc!)
#phew this got away from me - i can't remember the last time I wrote this much in 2 days#logan howlett x reader#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#logan howlett x you#wolverine smut#logan howlett#james logan howlett x reader#xmen x reader#logan howlett x fem!reader#logan howlett x f!reader
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