#deadclaws fanfiction

[pastorpresent]

tw: abuse, eating disorders, mentions of alcoholism

One of Wade's earliest memories was being four years old, sat at the half rotten kitchen table, sobbing hysterically over the food on his plate - all while his parents screamed at each other in the background.

"He needs to fucking learn, we're too poor for his fussy ass to waste food!"

His dad, getting in his mother's face, hands curled into fists as a warning, or a threat.

"I know, but he's not gonna fucking eat otherwise, and you heard that doctor. He's underweight as it is! I've got his chicken nuggets in the freezer-"

A smack, and the reverberating sound didn't even make Wade flinch anymore. He was kicking his tiny feet, trying to lift the fork to his mouth to end all of this, but it's like his body just... couldn't do it.

He was trying to be a good boy. He really was. He didn't want mommy getting hurt because he couldn't be good. It wasn't fair.

"Eat, Wade. Now," and that was definitely a threat, the words growled in his face, and Wade let out a sob as he quickly shoved the forkful past his quivering lips.

"You don't move from this fucking seat until this plate is empty. We clear?"

The grip on his arm hurt, but he knew if he tried to squirm away it would only tighten.

"Y-yes sir," he hiccuped, and his dad smirked, triumphant. As if he'd won, and his tiny self couldn't explain it but it made him feel like crying harder.

It took two hours, and tiny bites, but he finished the meal.

He didn't feel right the rest of the night. It was gone and done, but he felt utterly sick, like he needed the food and the taste out of him, and it didn't matter how many times he scrubbed his teeth with his spongebob toothbrush, up on his tippy-toes to reach the sink, the taste wouldn't fade.

He'd ended up spewing the meal back up a few hours later. He hated throwing up because of how shaky and weak it made him feel, and yet that night? He'd been practically giddy to have the food out of him.

It was the first time, but it wasn't the last. It may of been his earliest memory, but he had hundreds more exactly like it as a kid. Sat at that stupid table. The plate in front of him. Tears in his eyes.

Half the time, he'd just take the beating. At least he could settle after that, and not agonise for hours over the foods presence in his stomach until he was able to get it the fuck out.

He expected to grow out of it, as he hit his teens. He did start actually trying new foods, to usually poor results. His grandmother had scoffed, labeled him 'fussy', her eyes as disapproving as her sons. Wade had accepted the label, wore it with a twinge of embarrassment- because while he was good at not taking himself seriously, it still sucked ass not to be able to order off the adult menu in most restaurants and to turn down completely normal adult snacks because he couldn't stand certain textures or tastes.

He never grew out of it, in the end, but the list of foods he deemed as 'safe' did expand just a little.

It wasn't until he was older and they learnt about neurodivergence in health class that he ever heard a description accurate to his relationship with food. Avoidant restrictive food intake disorder. ARFID.

Wade had scribbled it down in his textbook, and ended up being late home from school that day because he was busy looking it up in the school library.

He could've cried with relief, honestly. A word. A diagnosis, even if he'd never get an official one. He wasn't some unique, one person freak show. It was a disorder. A disorder a lot of people suffered with.

He still struggled, but it was nice to have that layer of understanding.

His mutation made it worse. Changed the texture of his mouth, his tongue, and so things that had once been safe no longer were. He was practically starting from scratch, but he managed.

He got his ramen. His chicken nuggets. His boxed mac and cheese.

It was all fine and dandy and hey - on the plus side, the nutrionless crap he was eating couldn't kill him now! Unless heart disease could beat out regenerative healing, but when he considered how often Logan must've destroyed his liver by now - he figured he'd be fine.

Well, it was all fine until Logan moved in.

Him and Al never really 'cooked". They'd get take out, where Wade could get exactly as he wanted, or if not they didn't really eat together. Al would have whatever she was having, and Wade would knock himself up something of his own, and other than an occasional lighthearted comment about Wade having the dietary choices of a toddler, not much else was said. Al's comments didn't bother him anyway, because he knew they weren't insults. Didn't sting like his father's words.

He did their grocery shop too, so it all worked out fine.

When Logan moved in, he wanted to be helpful. He was struggling to find a job that would take him without a social security number or any form of identification that didn't technically belong to a man everyone knew to be dead. It meant he couldn't contribute to the rent and bills, and Wade knew he felt guilty about that even if he'd told him a million times over that it didn't matter.

He loved having Logan around. He'd pulled him from his own universe to be here. Giving him a roof over his head and sharing his bed while Al took the pullout really wasn't a big deal, and absolutely not something Logan had to repay him for.

He started taking on the domestic duties around the house as a way of payment anyway. The apartment had never been cleaner, that's for sure, and he took Mary Puppins on all of her walks.

It was fine. Everything was fine. Until Wade had came home from work one day and found that Logan had took it upon himself to go stock up on groceries, and cook dinner.

Wade hated how nervous seeing someone standing over a fucking stove made him. He knew a psychiatrist would probably give some dumb spiel about PTSD and unresolved trauma, but Wade just felt like a fucking idiot, freezing up in his own kitchen at the sight of Logan cooking and humming along to their old, shitty radio.

"Hey, how was work?" Logan glanced up from the steaks sizzling in the pan.

Wade needed to get it the fuck together. He couldn't let Logan realise how pathetic he truly was.

"Fine, dull," he replied with a shrug, hanging up his jacket and trying to quell the rising panic, but the smell alone was a lot and he could already feel his body tensing up, his fight or flight kicking in, and he wanted to scream and rip his own skin off because it was so fucking dumb.

"You alright, bub?" Logan asked, pulling Wade from his thoughts.

He nodded.

"Yeah I- need to shower," he excused, figuring it was a good enough reason to dip out and try to get a fucking grip.

"Alright," Logan said, eyebrow raised, "well dinners probably gonna be ready in twenty minutes or so."

Wade nodded, plastering on his best grin, "can't wait, peanut," he said, before quickly rushing out the room.

//

He felt like he was walking into the lions den, entering the kitchen. The shower and ten minute self pep talk did very little to fill him with confidence. Logan and Al were already sat at the table. Mary Puppins waited eagerly at their feet.

"There, the fuckers here. Can we eat now?" Al demanded, and Logan rolled his eyes but he was wearing one of those almost fond smiles, "go ahead."

Wade took his usual seat next to Logan, between him and Al, and picked up his knife and fork, staring down at the plate. Steak, mashed potatoes and green beans.

A normal fucking meal for an adult, and yet Wade felt his stomach tying itself into intricate knots just looking at it.

Al and Logan were chatting about the movie they'd watched last night, but their voices were muffled and distant. He scooped up a tiny bit of the potatoes, shoving it in before he could change his mind, forcing his throat to work and swallow it quickly. He could still taste it, could feel the texture imprinted onto his tastebuds.

He could do this. He could. Just get through one measly meal, and it would be fine. He already knew how strange he came across, and it was an honest to God miracle that Logan had stuck around - what if this was the final straw? Watching Wade waste the perfectly good meal he'd stood and cooked for him in favour of something beige and cooked in the microwave?

If he was going to lose Logan, it would have to be for a hell of a better reason than that.

He kept going, so focused on getting the food down that he missed the worried glances Logan was throwing his way.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but his thoughts were interrupted by the clattering of silverware.

"That was delicious. Who knew your dumbass could actually cook a meal?" Al commented, and when Wade looked up both of their plates were clear. He looked back to his own. At the single missing green bean, and pitiful dint in the mashed potatoes. The hardly distinguishable sliver of missing steak.

"I'm two hundred years old, picking up some hobbies here and there becomes a necessity to maintaining sanity," Logan shrugged, smiling, but it didn't feel like it was fully a joke and it only made Wade feel that much more guilty.

"Well, it's Wade's turn for dishes so I'm off to bingo. Don't wait up," Al left the table, barely side stepping Mary Puppins, and Wade could feel Logan's eyes on him now.

He didn't dare meet his gaze, forcing a bite of steak past his lips.

"What's up with you? You not into steak?"

There was no bite behind the words, and yet they made his breathing pick up all the same.

"I- I am, it's- good, honest. Thank you," he said, taking another bite, ignoring his body's protests, suppressing the shiver.

"Wade. Look at me," his head snapped to Logan. He was already in trouble. If he started being bad and not listening, it would hurt more, and he couldn't-

"Hey," Logan's voice was oddly soft when he spoke, but firm enough to get his attention. He reached over, pushed Wade's hands down gently, uncurled his fingers from their white knuckled grip around the cutlery.

Wade watched him do it, utterly confused.

"I'll eat it. I will, I'm trying," he hated the childlike panic that had taken over his brain. He felt like that four year old again, staring at his plate with a wobbling lip and damp eyes.

But he felt helpless to stop it.

"Do you not like it?" Logan asked.

Wade was biting his lip hard enough that he tasted blood, "it's... thank you. For making it for me."

"That's not an answer bub," Logan hummed, "do you like it or no?"

Wade chewed the torn skin of his bottom lip. Shook his head once. Tried to get his body to calm the fuck down.

Logan reached over. Wade flinched, cringing in on himself, eyes squeezed shut, bracing for an impact that never came. Instead he just used his thumb to release the lip Wade was using as a chew toy from between his teeth.

"Ok, that's alright. No worries, yeah? You want me to make you some of that ramen stuff you like instead?"

"I- I have food, you cooked me it, I shouldn't..." he trailed off when his throat felt tight.

"And you don't like it, which is completely fine. I'll clean up, you go sit on the couch and I'll bring you some ramen in soon."

"Logan-"

"Wasn't a request, bub. Go pick us a movie to watch," Logan stood, piling up all three plates, and Wade could've cried with relief honestly.

He got up and went to the couch, picking out Shaun of the Dead and sticking it in the pink Hello Kitty DVD player he'd scored years ago at the thrift store. He sat down, but his leg was bouncing like crazy and he couldn't get his eyes to focus.

Logan said it was fine, he reminded himself. He wasn't angry. But what if he was lying? What if he was just trying to lure him into a false sense of security? Make that first hit hurt even harder?

His dad had done that, in the past. Wade never understood why. Boredom, maybe? The same cycle of screaming at him, beating him bloody, rinse and repeat probably got old he supposed.

By the time Logan came over, bowl of noodles in hand, Wade was struggling through a fully fledged panic attack.

"I'm sorry, sorry, I'll- been bad, I'm sorry," he couldn't stop shaking, his breath punched out of him as he curled in on himself, burying his head in his knees which he pulled up tightly to his chest.

'You're a little pussy, no fucking son of mine. Stop hiding, boy!'

"Wade, Wade no. I'm not angry, you didn't do anything bad," he felt the couch dip next to him, and an arm wrapped around his back, pulling him against the solid warmth and familiar scent of Logan.

"I'm sorry," he didn't feel capable of saying anything else, and Logan shushed him softly, reaching out to grasp his hand, "it's fine, really. Look at me, sweetheart."

Wade reluctantly lifted his head, looking over at the older man who's face was filled with a genuine concern.

He hated that. Hated that he was so much of a fucking freak, making Logan worry about him because he couldn't get a damn grip on his own thoughts. He knew comforting people wasn't something that Logan necessarily enjoyed, and it was ridiculous and unfair for him to have to do it over something so small and dumb.

"I-"

"Shhh, just breathe. In and out. Slowly," Logan guided, emphasising his own, his thumb rubbing gentle circles around Wade's shoulder.

Wade copied. Eventually, he felt his body relaxing somewhat. He didn't realise he was leaning so heavily against him, eyes slipping closed, until one of Logan's arms wrapped around his waist.

His cheeks burned, but Logan wasn't pushing him off, and there was something soothing about his body heat and listening to the beat of his heart, even if it was muffled by the metal binded to his ribcage.

He wasn't sure how long he lay snuggled into Logan's side, but eventually he felt able to speak a bit more, his throat not so tight and brain not so crowded.

"My dad used to... get mad, if I didn't eat what I was given. Used to beat me for it," he said quietly.

Logan was silent for a long moment, and Wade almost pulled back just to see if he could read his expression. The hand on his waist tightened, fingers slipping beneath his shirt to run patterns over his hip bones.

"Dad's fucking suck. Hell, I killed mine. I wish I could kill yours, for doing that to you."

A sick, deeply twisted part of him wanted Logan to do it. Wanted to watch as his dad squirmed on the floor, covered in blood and bruises, all while he begged for mercy from an angry man who was so much bigger and stronger than him. Poetic justice really, but...

"He's already dead, sadly. Heart attack a few years ago."

"I'd say sorry for your loss, but I'm not," Logan commented, and Wade snorted against him, "yeah, me neither."

The silence returned. Wade hated silence, usually. Would say any dumb shit to fill it. Except it felt kind of... nice, right now. Comfortable. He didn't mind stewing in it for a few minutes.

"You know I'd never..." Logan trailed off, struggling with his words for a moment, which was odd. Wade had never heard him do that.

"I'd never hurt you like that. I know that sounds dumb, given the fact we fought each other a million times in the void, but I wouldn't..." he trailed off again, grunting in frustration.

Wade finally lifted up enough to look at him.

"I know. It's different when we fight, anyway. I'm immortal. You're immortal. I get my own hits in, and I fight dirty. It's a level playing field. With my dad... he started when I was four. I didn't have much of a chance," he shrugged, ignoring the flash of anger on Logan's face at the number, "I kind of like our fights. They keep me on my game, and I know I can't actually hurt you permanently. It's more like..."

"Play fighting?" Logan finished, his tone teasing but Wade knew he was serious, knew it was probably the only accurate word for what they did, "yeah," he grinned, and Logan chuckled.

Silence returned, their gazes locked. Logan's eyes went impossibly soft, "you alright now, bub?"

Wade nodded, leaning into the touch of his hip, bringing his own hand to rest on Logan's chest, "yeah, thank you."

"You want your ramen?" Logan asked softly, hurriedly adding, "if not that's okay, you don't have to. Just don't want you going hungry."

Wade nodded, and separated reluctantly from Logan to grab the bowl. He immediately felt a brief shock of that familiar panic and dread, but forced himself to remember that Logan wasn't mad, hadn't left him, he was right there.

He started eating, and Logan's arm returned to his waist, tugging him back in against his chest so he was situated between the older mans legs.

He looked up with a small smile, but Logan was pointedly watching the TV, even if the corners of his lips twitched upwards.

Eating the noodles was easy, and Wade didn't realise how hungry he'd been until it was gone.

"Can I ask you something? You don't gotta answer if you don't want to," Logan asked, taking the empty bowl from his hands and putting it on the coffee table.

"Sure," Wade shrugged, getting comfortable against him.

"It's... safe foods and stuff, right? You can only eat certain things? It's got a name, an annogram... starts with an A, I think?"

Wade sat up fully, brows furrowing as he looked over at Logan.

"ARFID. How do you know about that?" He asked, head tilting to the side. It's not something he had even knew where to start explaining to somebody like Logan. He worried he'd have the same outdated 'kids are just brats these days' kind of outlook on it that his dad did, but he scolded himself for that. Ever since they'd met, Logan had proved his stance on most topics was oddly forward thinking. Wade remembered one particularly impassioned rant about gay rights one night when some old trump clip had played on the news.

He just didn't expect Logan to know what it was at all, nevermind identify the behaviours as such.

"I never taught at the mansion, but I was around a lot. Charles said the kids liked me, for some reason, and I sort of became... not a counsellor, because I'm too fucked up for that, but just someone who the kids knew they could come to. Few of 'em struggled at meal times. Would come see me and I'd make chicken nuggets or whatever they felt able to eat. Sit with them while they did," Logan had that sort of glossy distant look in his eyes, the same one he always seemed to adopt whenever he'd reflect on his past.

Wade felt ready to melt into the damn couch cushions, his love for Logan increasing tenfold. There was a niggling sense of envy, too, just below the surface. He was glad the kids Logan cared for weren't abused for something out of their hands. That they were understood, even if only during their stay at the mansion.

But it didn't stop the jealousy from burning low and ugly inside of him. He never got that, never had an ounce of understanding from anyone. He was punished instead. Not starved, because he was always offered food technically, but in a way...

"I'm glad they had someone like you to support them. I'm sure that meant a lot," Wade said, no jokes, his face serious.

Logan looked away. That look grew more haunted, and he shook his head, "very little consolation considering most of them died because of me in the end."

"Lo, you didn't-"

"I know," Logan interrupted, his face completely unconvinced, "I know you disagree, that's fine. We don't... let's not talk about it again," he said, and Wade didn't want to drop it, wanted to argue until he lost his voice that what those people did wasn't Logan's fault - but it's an argument they'd had a million times over, and he never made any headway.

It always ended with Logan storming out to a bar to get pissed, likely in some dumb effort to prove how 'terrible' he was, and then they wouldn't speak for a few days until they both missed the other's company enough to put the debate and their pride aside.

So as much as Wade wanted to argue his point, he let it be done for now.

"Do need you to do me a favour though, bub."

"Hm?" Wade hummed.

"A list - all your safe foods. Bit pointless me shopping and cooking if I don't know what you can eat," Logan said, and Wade's throat went completely dry.

He'd wrote a list once. Only once. When he was nine, when he'd convinced himself his parents didn't hate him - they just didn't understand, and he could help. He wrote a list in his wobbly handwriting, the foods he liked - the foods he wouldn't need to expel from his body. He'd drew pictures next to each one. He'd gave it to his dad with a smile.

The smile had been slapped off his face. The list had been hung on the fridge, the only piece of his artwork to ever feature there, as a warning to his mother about what not to buy on their grocery trip.

And now here Logan was. Asking for one, so he could make sure he could stock those things, cook them for him.

He all but threw himself against Logan, who merely grunted at the impact, wrapping him easily in a hug while Wade practically squeezed the life out of him.

"Thank you," he mumbled against his neck.

"Don't mention it."

[panties-on-boys]

Mark Your Territory

Wade asks Logan, “Thought you said you didn’t know anything about my missing shirts.”

Logan shrugs back, too shameless to pull the fabric from his nose.

Wade reaches out, and Logan thinks he could sob with the anticipation. His gloved hand closes around Logan’s strong jaw, a leather thumb sliding over the stubble at its hard angle.

“Bad dog, Lo.” Wade coos. “Lying isn’t kind.”

Logan grunts, turning into Wade to kiss his palm, to nip the vein in his wrist that flutters with his pulse. “I know. I deserve a nice, hard punishment, don’t I?”

Wade smiles faux-fondly… or maybe real-fondly. “Yes. For being such a depraved, dumb animal.”

Logan’s cock kicks in his own hand. “Mmfh.” He pants.

Wade hums and leans over Logan. His fingers curl around the shirt and he tries to pull it free.

Surprisingly to no one, Logan starts to snarl like a food-aggressive mutt told to share. He flicks his head side to side just a little. He’s trying to shake Wade off.

Wade demands, “Drop it, dog.”

Logan huffs a couple times, a low growl rumbling behind his clenched canines.

Wade warns, voice deep, authoritative, commanding. The tone alone nearly makes Logan spill on the spot. He repeats himself, more forcefully, “Drop. It.”

Logan clips his fangs together once, twice, but then he drops the shirt.

[watmalik]

Not even a full month since the movie premiered and there’s 1k fanfics… y’all are the fvcking best!! Kris Jenner might work faster than the devil but she has nothing on you and I’m proud 😂

[transformersandturtles]

Couldn't find any of this SO I WROTE MY OWN FOR A ONE SHOT‼️ I will write more but I thought this would be good for now‼️ I'm really sorry if this seems out of character for either of them, I've never written anything for them before. 🥲

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CW - Swearing, reference to explicit content, possible spelling errors (non reviewed)

Word Count - 2,017 words (10,995 characters)

𝑳𝒆𝒕'𝒔 𝑮𝒐 𝑺𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈!

"Wade, is there anything you need from the store?" The gruff voice of Logan Howlett grumbled from the kitchen table, reading glasses resting on his nose as he held a small notepad and pen. He'd asked Al earlier if she needed anything, that wasn't illegal substances he had no way of getting his hands on, so now it was just a matter of asking his partner, who had just gotten back from walking Mary Puppins. He tapped the closed pen on the wooden surface, peering over the ridge of the glasses Laura made him wear. Who knew it was easier to read with glasses? He'd have to get something to thank her next time she came by.

"Oh! You're going shopping! Ooh, let's see!" Wade had quite the grin on his expression, taking off the harness and leash from the ever loving Dogpool, who he totally didn't get the owner of murdered so he could take her, and he picked her up, letting her lick his face as she was coddled like a baby in his arms. "We need more dog food," he spoke as he waltzed over to Logan, his hood falling down as he did so, "and more milk. Maybe some more eggs, and a pack of XL-" before he could finish, he felt something sharp poke at his throat.

"All that's on the list, except that last one. YOU can get that on your own time." The old Canadian scoffed a bit, not exactly in the mood to entertain Wade's thoughts. But he couldn't hold back a small grin when the other Canadian whined at the threat.

"Whaaaaaat? But Honey Badger, I can't go alone. They'd look at me weird." He protested, trying to be dramatic all for the sake of being dramatic.

"Uh huh, sure bub. . ." Logan put his claws away, grabbing the napkin off the table by his empty plate to wipe the blood away as the spot between his knuckles healed quickly. "So, there's milk, eggs, toilet paper, new beddings, steak, vegetables, beer. . ." He mumbled, setting the notepad down to write a few more things that came to mind. Wade set down Mary Puppins and he leaned over Logan's shoulder to figure out what other things were added. Toothpaste, mouthwash. . .

"Oh absolutely not." Wade reached for the pen to scratch out the body spray. "No way in HELL are you gonna buy Axe. Are you TRYING to smell like a skunk? Your musk is enough to make a room full of E-Sports players sick!"

". . . The fuck is E-Sports?" Logan wasn't sure if he should be insulted, confused, or both. But he wasn't too happy about the comment either way. "Also what the fuck is wrong with Axe? It's cheap and smells fine." He scoffed a bit. "I'm not trying to spend over $100 to smell good." He took off the metal framed glasses and placed them on the collar of his T-shirt under the teal-blue flannel.

"And I'm not saying you need to spend $100 to smell good, I for one think you smell amazing. Gets the body goin'. . ." Wade gave a cheeky grin with a chuckle, looking Logan up and down for a moment before looking back at the list. "But Axe is the worst one to use. If you want something to smell decent for work, I'd recommend Old Spice at the very least. Sure, the smell names are weird as fuck, but that comes with all male hygiene products. Women get all the sweet and nice sounding scents like peach vanilla or sunset cinnamon. . . Meanwhile we get stuff like Pine Jizz or Whales Fucking or-"

"Shut the fuck up, Wade. . . . Just shut up. . ." Logan let out a groan of annoyance, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment. Wade had a grin on his face, laughing a little at how Logan told him to stop talking.

"I'm just saying, Peanut, if you get Axe then you're sleeping on the couch or out in the hallway." Wade warned, before leaning in to kiss Logan on the cheek. "I'll go get ready." He hummed, and left to the bedroom to change out of his sweatpants and hoodie.

"Yeah, yeah. . ." Logan mumbled in annoyance, putting his hand to his cheek to hide the light blush across his face. He huffed and stood up, stretching as his joints popped and cracked, from his lower back to his legs and neck. He popped his jaw a bit, before going to the coat rack to grab his brown leather jacket he got for a fairly good price last week. It was nice, not too tight but not too lose, and had some decent pockets. Perfect for carrying booze. . . Or other stuff he didn't want to pay for, maybe. He was THE Wolverine, and taxes were too expensive sometimes. Who was gonna throw him in jail if he shoplifted? No one, that's who. He adjusted the collar of the leather jacket, getting it how he wanted before stopping when he heard the bedroom door open. He looked at Wade, and stared at him almost dumbfounded. "You are NOT going out like that. . ."

"Why not, Peanut? You always like it when I dress this way." Wade teased, he wasn't serious about wearing the outfit in public, but he wanted a good reaction out of Logan. Besides, the outfit was pretty comfortable but no way in hell was he having enough confidence to show off his unicorn crop top and short-shorts. He didn't mind wearing it when he was having his great days; where he was overly confident and eager to show off his body despite the scarring. But today wasn't one of those days, especially since it was getting cooler as Autumn was coming in after what felt like eons of Summer. Wade did notice how Logan's complexion had turned a few shades of a deep red while looking, which also made Wade's cheeks turn a soft pink.

"Alright, alright, hurry up then. . ." Logan sighed softly, not even making a comment or retort to what was said because Wade was right. Logan crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for Wade but was surprised when the bedroom door closed again and he frowned. Did he say the wrong thing? Did he upset Wade? The mutant stood quietly but worriedly, his nose twitching a bit as he sniffed the air, trying to figure out if Wade was upset or not. It was hard to tell, so he stepped closer to the door. There didn't seem to be any low serotonin levels, they seemed about as normal as they could be for Wade. His nose continued twitching as he kept sniffing past the door, still trying to figure out if he upset his boyfriend or not, his ears twitching a little as well as he listened carefully. Before he could figure it out past the smell of everything else on the other side of the door, he was met once again with the face of Wade who seemed surprised at how close Logan was to the door. But that surprise soon turned to playful, mischievous grin.

"Aww, was someone worried about me?" He teased, wrapping an arm around Logan and leaning in to rub his nose against Logan's cheek. The gruff man scoffed with a growl, not out of hostility but annoyance, as he bit Wade's cheek with his big canines.

"Like hell I'd worry about you, dumbass. . ." Logan grumbled, moving away from Wade but didn't move too far so they could at least hold hands. "Let's go. . ." He sighed heavily, taking Wade's hand and going to the door to get their shoes on as Logan grabbed the keys to the apartment and put them in the pocket of his leather jacket with the notepad.

At the store, Logan had to keep holding Wade's hand so the younger wouldn't run off, who knows what that undiagnosed dork would go find and beg to have. Logan had his glasses back on as he looked down at the list in his hand. He had a specific order to get everything in, and if he had to deviate from that plan he might just lose it. Wade was very aware of his boyfriend's thoughts and methods, and honestly he didn't mind holding hands and walking with Logan, though he did stop a few times to look at something that caught his attention.

"We really gotta get you an appointment. . ." Logan mumbled as he gently tugged Wade along so they could keep shopping to get everything on the list. He headed over to the produce section, his hazel eyes gazing over the different fruits and veggies, letting go of Wade's hand for just a moment so he could find the perfect vegetables to cook for dinner. He'd started learning how to cook lately and had a nice dinner planned, so he made sure that the ingredients would be edible and not rotten inside or anything of the sort. He grabbed some potatoes, a few peppers, and for something sweet as a snack for later he grabbed some apples, a grapefruit, and a cantaloupe though it was slowly coming out of season and probably wouldn't taste as good as it does in the summer but he didn't care. He goes to check the ingredients off the list and turns to hold Wade's hand again, only to find the other Canadian had vanished. "Great. . ." Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath before grabbing the shopping cart and continued with his shopping, knowing he'd find Wade eventually, tracking his scent wasn't that difficult due to the constantly dying and regenerating cells, along with the citrus-pine smell he had. His ears and nose twitched every so often as he leaned his elbows against the cart to push it, walking around and glancing around as he got cheese, milk, eggs, and some other things in the aisle, a gruff and raspy hum vibrating in his chest as he tapped his sharp nails against the metal bar of the cart while listening to the music playing through the store. It was crappy compared to what he liked, some hit pop song the youth enjoyed, but damnit was it catchy in the kind of way that it was really annoying but kinda good. He whistled a little, getting everything on the shopping list and went to the aisle full of booze before an announcement rang over the store's system.

"Logan Howlett, please come to the front. Your child is waiting." A bored teen girl sounded over, the tone of her voice a mix of boredom, with a hint that screamed she did not get paid enough to watch over someone or help. Logan raised a brow at this, confused. Laura wasn't here, was she? But then it clicked, and he groaned slightly with some annoyance. He grabbed two packs of the good beer and headed to the front, finding Wade near a desk who seemed happy and relieved once Logan arrived.

"Honey Badger! I was so worried you left without me!" Wade nearly tackled the older man the moment he could, and Logan grunted, a bit startled.

"You're the one who ran off, idiot. . ." Logan scoffed, glaring at Wade before looking down at the soft thing between them. "Wade. . . What the hell is that?" He frowned. Wade looked down, and a big grin was plastered on his face.

"Pompompurin! He'd be great to sit with Hello Kitty and Cinnamoroll!" He beamed, excited even as he held the large dog plush. Logan wanted to say no, to make him put it back, because who knows how much money that thing cost, but the longer he saw those big eyes, Logan eventually let out a groan of defeat.

"Fine. . . But you're payin' for it, bub. . ." Logan patted Wade on the shoulder, before taking him and the cart to the self checkout aisle so he could scan everything himself. Logan didn't like strangers touching stuff sometimes.

"Fine by me!" Wade grinned, watching Logan scan everything and he snorted a bit, amused by his odd yet loving boyfriend.

[obihoebikenobi-ficrecs]

Poolverine Series: to gain true love, one must first lose their wolvirginity, i don't make the rules

By: obihoebikenobi, 23.6K as of September 13th, 2024

It's a love story baby just get fucked. Logan and Wade's love story, written in somewhat disconnected parts.

I descended into Poolverine hell and wrote a 20K and counting series about these two fuckers. Featuring: softness, migraines, love confessions, domesticity, and fucking. All that good shit.

See summaries, relevant tags, ratings, and links to all fics on ao3 below.

PART 1: i wanna hold your hand (and colossal dick, eventually), 3.5K

Rating: M

Tags: alcohol withdrawl, vomiting, literally sharing a bed, bathing/washing

“Fuck you, Wade.” “If only,” Wade said, trailing a finger over a seam on the quilt with feigned yearning, “I long for the day you allow me the pleasure of ravishing your raw skin-saber, maybe with a side of penetration–” “The only thing I’ll be penetrating is your eye sockets with these,” Logan flashed his claws, “If you so much as speak to me while we are still in this bed tomorrow morning.” “Joke's on you, I will gladly and enthusiastically take any form of penetration, in existing or fresh new holes, as long as it’s from you, Peanut.” Logan’s head pounded, but he wasn’t sure if it was from Wade’s persistent blabbering, or the fact that the last of the alcohol was wearing off. “Go the fuck to sleep.” Logan downed the last sip of vodka and willed his body to cooperate. Withdrawal was a bitch. (one pull-out couch, two bitches, vomiting, and the works, now with fucking in part two!)

PART 2: a little bit more than hand holding, 2.7K

Rating: E

Tags: wade is obsessed with dicks, bottom wade, little bit of praise kink, logan just wants a kissi

“Oh so that’s your horny face then? Watery eyes, clenched teeth? Nothing hotter than a tortured poet with a heart of gold who cries during sex.” “Wade–” “If that’s horny I’d love to see your O-face–” Wade threw an arm over his forehead, gasping. “Can you just shut the fuck up for one goddamn second, asshole?” Logan dared a sharp glance in Wade’s direction, finding him sitting perfectly still with a pleasant smile painted across his face. The smug piece of shit knew Logan wanted him. Logan cleared his throat, “Now that I have your attention,” he started, earning a snort from Wade, “So we’re clear, the more words that come out of your mouth, the more likely I’m going to sleep early and no one's getting fucked.”   (wade loses his wolvirginity)

PART 3: lesser of two evils, right?, 7.5K

Rating: E

Tags: sub logan (kinda), crying during sex, soft, rimming, angst, praise kink

“When you’re done being a bitter little bitch, I’m offering you a massage, of the non-dick variety. Because I am a nice person.” It was, indeed, surprisingly nice. Logan stared at him, hating himself for actually wanting the fucking massage, because he sure as shit shouldn’t have wanted it. “I’m going to take that blank, lifeless stare as a hell yeah. So take off your shirt and come with daddy,” Wade pointed toward the bedroom expectantly, lips drawn into a wide smile. “Don’t call yourself that again. Ever.” What a little shit. (logan gets migraines, but also gets a massage, and an orgasm. it's a lot.)

PART 4: holding hands (gone sexual), 5.3K

Rating: E

Tags: discussion of consent and logan's past issues, insecure logan, bottom logan, domestic fluff, love confessions, praise kink

“Oh my god. Oh my god.” Oh for fuck’s sake. Logan probably shouldn’t have stopped considering throwing himself in a meat grinder– “Have I died in my sleep? Is this yet another whimsical dream where I have a house husband to take care of my every need and whim whilst I labor away every fucking single day, with so little appreciation, just to feed our child–” “Shut the fuck up,” Logan muttered, feeling the stain of red warmth over his cheeks. “I don’t know what I have done to deserve this, Peanut, but I am so fucking turned on right now. I might come in my pants. That happens when people are nice to me.” “Wade, it’s waffles–” “Don’t be a kink-shamer, baby girl. Benevolence and breakfast foods get me going. Don’t even get me started on sausages.” (logan explores his feelings with wade, makes waffles for wade, gets fucked by wade, falls in love...with wade)

PART 5: and they were boyfriends (and roomates), 4.4K

Rating: E

Tags: love confessions, insecure logan, drinking to cope, angst and hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort

“I’m good.” For whatever reason, Wade apparently took that as an invitation to sit down next to him, and Logan growled, moving over so they weren’t touching. Wade shivered, scoffing at him, and kicking Logan’s foot. “Clearly not, Peanut. You’ve smoked a week’s wage of cigs in three hours and I’m fairly certain you’re still not unfucked up from all that cheap-ass donkey piss you call whiskey.” Logan was seconds, maybe milliseconds, from punching him in the fucking face–with claws–but he held back, knowing Wade only thrived on retaliation. “What’s it matter to you?” The words felt sour on his tongue and he practically spat them in Wade’s direction. “Well,” Wade took a deep breath, “I’m probably the reason–scratch that–I’m definitely the reason you’re clearly not good.” (wade takes a mid love-confession job, logan drinks about it. cue angst. subsequently, boyfriendship.)

[phillyphillyphilly]

ANIMAL WAYS chapter 3/5

Wolverine x Deadpool AU fanfic 🔞 🔞 🔞

The one where they’re both underground cage fighters. Logan fights at the Void to pay for Laura’s school; Wade’s just fighting to feel alive.

Preview:

Logan texts Wade that Laura’s in town on spring break and he’d better pack a shirt without blood on it.

“I’m really nervous. What if she doesn’t like me?”

“Nobody likes you,” Logan lies.

“You like me!”

“I tolerate you.”

“Tolerate this dick,” Wade mutters.

[actually-a-menace]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/59359006/chapters/151387870

“What did you think I meant, Peanut?” Logan doesn’t want to do this, bring his panic to light and talk about the feelings rolling around like a ball of barbed wire in his chest. But he looks at Wade, quiet and expectant and sighs. Finding the words makes him feel like he’s chewing on rocks, chalking and rough on his tongue. “You said I should start looking at places. Emphasis on the I.” Irritation bleeds into his words because Wade can’t be direct for once in his life. Wade tilts his head in a dog like manner Logan would mock him for if it wasn’t for the serious moment. His hairless brows furrow further. “Well yeah, you’re more picky than I am. I mean look at this place.” Logan can't see his hands, but feels them in the air behind him, knows Wade is likely gesturing to the shit show that is their apartment. “Not to mention you're wise beyond your years, you’re probably way better at house hunting than my millennial ass.”

I've been working on this one since I started writing the series, please enjoy my rabid self indulgence.

[ethantheannus]

FIRST CHAPTER OF MY BIGASS DEADCLAWS FIC IS UP IF YOU WANT GRIEF AND ANGST AND A WHOLE LOT OF PINING COME ON IN

[decaying-lover]

new chapter!

[patriciasage]

one hand in my pocket

Author: Patricia_Sage

Fandom: Deadpool and Wolverine, Deadpool, X-Men

Ship: Deadpool/Wolverine, Wade Wilson/Logan Howlett

Summary:

Wade turns away from the computer to respond just in time to see Logan walk out. Hates to see him go but loves to watch him leave and all that. He catches a flash of colour before the door closes behind the other man. In his back pocket, was that -?

Wade scrambles to find his phone. He tears the couch cushions off and flings folded laundry across his bedroom only to see it lying innocently on the bathroom counter. He opens a new tab in his browser.

[hanky code chart] -> [images]

read it here

[quincyanthemum]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Deadpool (Movieverse), Wolverine (Movies), Deadpool - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Logan | Worst Wolverine (Deadpool Movies)/Wade Wilson, Laura Kinney & Logan | Worst Wolverine (Deadpool Movies), Laura Kinney & Wade Wilson Characters: Logan | Worst Wolverine (Deadpool Movies), Wade Wilson, Laura Kinney Additional Tags: Post-Movie: Deadpool 3: Deadpool & Wolverine (2024), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Self-Harm, Self-Mutilation, Blood and Gore, Logan Is Bad at Feelings (X-Men), First Kiss, Getting Together, Wade Wilson has Chronic Pain, Deadpool Thought Boxes, Spoilers for Movie: Deadpool 3: Deadpool & Wolverine (2024), Logan Has PTSD (X-Men), the homoerotic energy of tending to your roommate's injuries, POV Logan | Worst Wolverine (Deadpool Movies), Laura lives with Wade and Logan Summary:

“Listen, peanut,” The merc tensed up before him. “I got my methods to keep what little sanity I got left intact. You’ve got your own self-destructive habits, so leave me with mine.” --- As Logan found himself falling into a comfortable routine in Wade's timeline, he realizes just how little he knew about the merc with a mouth.

[panties-on-boys]

Pavlov’s Dog— Chapter 2: Introduce the Stimulus

“Hurry up, will you?” Logan huffs, “I wanna shower,” and then Wade’s alone in the bathroom again, just him and the echoing click of the door’s latch.

Shit.

It takes a long moment for Wade to relax. He untenses, parts his teeth, rolls his shoulders, smooths his hands over his own stomach, and everything gets softer… well, not everything. God damn it.

Filing taxes, capitalism, doing laundry, grocery shopping, the twist and tuck method for storing bread…

Shit. Nothing’s working.

Wade spares a guilty glance at the door. He checks his phone. 5:55PM, go fucking figure. Wade wishes his hard-on would go down.

The angel number gods do not hear him.

He reaches out and swiftly punches in the door’s lock.

It clicks softly this time, less harsh without its cause being Logan’s leaving, and Wade huffs a strained breath. He wiggles his too-tight pants down just enough.

[watmalik]

Fic rec: YOU. YES, YHUGH! READ THIS NOW.

There are a lot of words in the English language, but not enough to describe how much I fucking love this ongoing poolverine series. Please send the author their flowers. Kudo the shit out of them and comment!

[leosflowerforest]

Logan, I believe this is killing me…

—————————————————

With a swift motion Logan downed another shot, having lost count on how many he already had. But he didn‘t care. His limit wasn’t a specific number, his limit was when he could barely stand and see straight. Which was a little hard to achieve, due to his healing factor sobering him up pretty fast.

It was one of these nights, a saturday to be specific. Today Logans past caught up to him. For a few months now he had been living with Wade and Blind Al. Not to forget the hairless rat Wade called a dog.

And usually everything was fine. He had a purpose again, he had the chance to make right what he messed up. It wouldn‘t bring back his friends from his universe, but it helped his guilt. Or so he was telling himself.

Because today everything sucked. He woke up with immense guilt and depression. Then, later, he lashed out on Wade. Two times. Until he fled the appartment, with even more guilt than he had woken up with.

And now he was drinking all his sorrows away, in a different bar than usual. It pissed him off, he hated change. And he hated that people tried to talk to him. In his usual bar everyone knew to leave him alone.

For a saturday night it was pretty empty in the bar. An old man sitting next to him and a few people in the back at the tables. Maybe it was because this bar had a bad reputation.

But Logan didn‘t care about that. He only cared for the booze.

He glanced to the old man. He was already pretty wasted, practically making out with his glass. Disgusted, Logan looked away.

The brunette ordered another shot, the bartender giving him a look but sliding another over nonetheless. He downed that one as well and suddenly his mood worsened.

The man next to him had started talking. To no one specific but it still annoyed him. „Play some music!“ He yelled in a cheery tone. „Play some music and make me feel young again!“ The bartender looked towards the pianist.

Yes, this bar had a pianist. Not a radio, a jukebox or anything. A real person playing a piano. Logan didn‘t know how this bar could afford paying a pianist. But it was rather nice.

Logan grew up without technology and even though it was a nice helper sometimes, he preferred the old fashioned way. Call him old, if you want. But that‘s exactly what he was, an old man.

The mutant wasn‘t in the mood for music, especially not happy and cheery music. The other people in the bar had stopped talking and were listening to the soft tunes of the piano, even singing along to a song that Logan didn‘t know.

He looked at the empty shot glass with a glare, as if it had just insulted him. Then he got out his wallet, threw more money on the counter than he even owed and left the bar.

Logan was slightly tumbling. His vision a little blurry, but nothing he couldn’t handle. He had drank away his brain cells more often than he could count. But suddenly he had the strong urge to go home.

What then? He didn‘t know. He wasn‘t tired and he also didn‘t want to talk to Wade. Because that meant he had to apologize. And in case you didn’t know, Logan was bad at apologizing. Or anything related to emotions that were not anger and guilt.

It took Logan a little while longer to get home than it would if he was sober. He fumbled for his keys in his pocket and fished them out, staring at them for a while before sticking them into the lock and turning it around, opening the door.

He remained in the door frame, listening quietly for any sounds. But he couldn‘t hear any. Al was probably asleep, she hit the sack usually around eight or nine in the evening. She was old after all, which Logan would never say out of respect for her.

Wade had to be asleep too. The appartment was quiet which was unusal. Logan kicked off his shoes, swaying slightly. After regaining his balance he snuck into the bathroom.

A while ago he, Wade and Al moved into an appartment with two bedrooms. Al was relieved to finally have her own room to sleep in so Wade wouldn‘t randomly snuggle up to her anymore. And thus, Wade and himself shared the other bedroom. But right now he didn‘t feel like sleeping in there.

He would just sleep on the couch, Logan decided.

Before he could open the bathroom door, he heard a groan. A dim light shone through the door crack of his and Wades bedroom and Logan rolled his eyes. Wade was probably doing some unholy things in there. What a perv….

Logan opened the bathroom door and again, another groan. But this time it sounded different. Pained even. He furrowed his eyebrows and leaned closer to the door.

Right now Logan blessed his enhanced hearing.

Heavy breathing could be heard from inside the room. Which was weird.

He now got the courage to open the door slightly, peeking inside. What he saw was not what he expected…

Wade was laying on the bed, on his own side, which was also unusual. The merc was someone to ignore boundaries and often took the whole bed to himself. He was laying on his back, his arms loose next to him. His face was distorted in pain and sweat had formed on his forehead. Was he sick?

The merc hadn‘t noticed his roommate yet, too busy being in pain. Suddenly Logan felt sober.

„Wade? Are you okay?“ A voice said. His own voice. As if his mouth had it‘s own life.

Another groan and Wade finally opened his eyes. Slowly, but he did open them.

„Logan… hey. Didn‘t notice you there.“ Wade said, a smile appearing on his face. Or at least what was supposed to be a smile. But he still tried to joke around, while obviously being in alot of pain.

„Are you okay?“ Logan repeated himself and fully came into the room, standing at the foot of the bed and looking down at the bald man.

„How was your…“ Wade coughed. „Night at the bar? I suppose you were at the bar.“ He chuckled. „The smell of alcohol is so penetrating.“ Wade wrinkled his nose and coughed again.

„What the fuck is wrong with you.“ Logan snapped at him. He didn‘t want to, really. But it happened faster than he could think. It was pissing him off that Wade wasn‘t answering his question while something was so obviously wrong.

„Oh nothing. Y‘know. Just my super cancer acting up.“ During the end, his voice strained and he looked at the ceiling. „You know how it is. I mean you don‘t, you don‘t have your cells constantly duplicating and eating at your organs. Which is good, I wouldn‘t wish this upon my worst enemy.“ He chuckled again, which turned into a coughing fit.

„Wade shut the fuck up.“ Logan stopped him from continuing his ramble. He was glad it was ‚just‘ Wades cancer acting up.

A few hours and he would be fine. Being unable to die had it‘s benefits. Well, and it’s disadvantage too.

But right now it seemed worse than ever. He had never seen Wade in this state before. Usually he would just have a headache and go to sleep for multiple hours and it was fine. But now?

„Logan listen to me.“ Wade said, looking back at the brunette with pained eyes. „I just want you to know that you never hurt my feelings. I know what I agreed to after bringing you home. You needed a punching bag and I didn‘t mind it. Really.“ Wade began rambling again.

And Logan listened, confused where this was going.

„If it helped you through your trauma I‘m happy to be your punching bag…“ It was rare hearing Wade this serious.

He was really trying to concentrate and held back multiple coughs, which only resulted in him coughing even worse. He groaned in pain again, closing his eyes for a moment.

„What the fuck are you saying you idiot?“ Logan grumbled angrily. Wade was really pissing him off. But after what his roommate said next, all his anger was suddenly gone. Poof, disappeared.

„Logan, I believe this is killing me.“ Wades smile was fading after he had finished speaking.

Logan stared at him for a few seconds. „What are you talking about?? You can‘t die! Remember? You are a fucking mutant with healing powers, it‘s literally not possible. Have you snorted too much coke again?“

„No I‘m serious, Logan… I can feel it eating at my organs, faster than it can heal…“ Wade chuckled, followed by a painful groan.

„Have you ever wondered what it feels like being eaten from the inside by rats? This is exactly what it feels like…“ He coughed again.

No, Logan had never wondered.

„Well, at least the author finally has something to write about us…“ Wade said and Logan stared at him in disbelief. Wade was always blabbering nonesense. But right now it made Logan incredibly mad.

He stepped closer to the bed and the smell of death hit him like a baseball bat to the face. He hadn‘t noticed it before, not paid any attention, but the closer he got towards Wade the stronger it got. Wade always had a special smell to himself. Not one of death but Logan could clearly smell that something was wrong with him.

That, and this disgusting deodorant that he used. What was it again, cookies and leather? Absolutely disgusting. And Logans enhanced sense of smell didn‘t make it better.

„Logan… please kill me…“ Wade begged the brunette and Logan stared at him, kept staring.

„Shut the fuck up! Even if I wanted to I literally can‘t!“ Logan hissed at him and Wade chuckled.

„I know… I just wanted to say it. Even though I wish you could cuz… man, this hurts like a bitch.“ He took a deep breath, shuddering. He chuckled at his own words.

His whole body was heaving from another coughing fit. „Ew…“ Wade said and spat something out. Blood.

„Oh.. I think I really am dying, huh… Gods best joke…Well, all jokes end at some point…“

„Oh my god Wade can you shut the FUCK up for one second?!“ Logan snapped at the dying man in the bed in front of him. His mind was racing, not being able to cling to a thought for more than a second.

He didn‘t know what to do. Had never felt this helpless and lost before.

Maybe back then when he had failed all his friends. And now he had failed another one.

He had never said it, never fully thought it, but Wade was his friend. His best friend. Maybe Logan didn‘t deserve friends. Or love. Not platonic, nor romantic.

He had failed Wade.

„Hey… Honey Badger… I think you‘re having a panic attack…“ Wade whispered but it was loud enough to get through to him. Logan snapped back to reality and realised he was indeed panicking. His heart was beating fast, Logan feared it might jump out of his chest.

He took some deep breaths. Or well, tried to. It was hard. But Wade had it harder and Logan tried his best to keep himself together. For Wade.

„Wade.. what the fuck am I supposed to do?“ Logan said, his eyes filling with water. This was so unusal and if Wade wasn‘t literally dying right now he would probably make fun of him for it.

Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was the fact that the people dear to Logan kept dying and leaving him. Even someone who was literally unable to die.

„Just… stay here… please…“ Wade whispered, closing his eyes again. Logan nodded and quickly went over, hesitantly sitting on the edge of the bed. He wrinkled his nose at the penetrating smell of death. But he ignored it for now.

Logan didn‘t know what to say. As if Wade had sensed this, he opened his mouth.

„Y‘know. This was never the life I expected to have. Have I told you this before?“ The merc started, his voice still strained with concentration and exhaustion.

„Wade…“ Logan started, but he didn‘t get to finish his sentence.

„I don‘t care. I‘ll just tell you again. When I was little, I wanted to become an actor. A movie star, even. My friends told me I was good at acting. Always fooling them…“ He chuckled which ended in another coughing fit.

„And now look at me. Everyone knows Deadpool but no one knows Wade Wilson. Does this count as acting? Playing a role?“ He coughed again.

„Wade shut up. Please for the love of god.“ Logans voice was merely a whisper, as he begged Wade to shut up like he was doing every other day.

But this time it wasn‘t followed by a grumble and an eyeroll. This time it was followed by sniffling. The brunette tried really hard to not break out in tears but eventually he failed.

Silently the little droplets of salty water escaped his eyes, running down his cheeks and dropping onto the fabric of his shirt. Why was everyone close to Logan dying?

Wade lifted his hand, slowly and shaky. As gentle as he could in this state he gently swiped away the tears with the back of his hand. „Come on Logan… I wanted you to show any emotion besides anger for so long but not now. It‘s okay.“ He whispered.

‚It‘s okay.‘ He said. It‘s okay??

Logan grit his teeth. „The fuck you mean ‚it‘s okay‘? Nothing is okay! You are dying for gods sake. EVERYONE is dying! I tried for so fucking long to keep you away from me because I was scared. I was so fucking scared to lose you too. And then I let you near me, and suddenly you‘re dying? Fuck this shit!“

Now Logan really couldn‘t stop the tears. He hadn‘t cried like this in a long time. Sure, after a nightmare about his past he had shed a few tears, but never like this.

He was sobbing, gently taking Wade‘s hand from his cheek and holding it in his own.

„I get it. I fucked up and for that I‘m damned to be alone. And I can‘t even die. I‘m just gonna have to live with it.“ He continued his rant and Wade didn‘t interrupt him once.

Logan was angry, so incredibly angry. But at what? Himself? The X-Men? Wade? He didn‘t know.

After he had finished speaking, he slumped down, all this anger replaced by emptieness. He looked at Wade, still crying silently.

Wade was laying there, eyes closed. His breathing was shallow and uneven. Logan just stared at him.

He didn‘t know what to say anymore. The brunettes head was empty. No thoughts. Or too many thoughts to grasp a single one.

The Wolverine continued to sit there, holding Wade‘s hand in his. How much time had passed, he couldn‘t tell.

Seconds, minutes, hours… Who knew.

Suddenly Wade began to gasp for air. It was an exhausted, pathetic gasp. And then he stopped.

Logan‘s heartrate picked up. „Wade? Wade!“ He shook the younger. „No, not yet. No! Come on. You still have time. Not now!“ Desperatedly he tried to shake the merc back to live.

But it was pointless. He had died…

The older began to cry again, loudly. He sobbed and wailed, still shaking Wade. Then he stopped and dropped his head onto his chest, crying into his shirt.

It was so unusual to see Logan like this… Thank god no one could see him.

He screamed. He screamed out all the anger, the sadness, the pain. He didn‘t care about the time, who he could disturb.

The door opened slowly, Logan could hear it. And he knew who it was. But the brunette didn‘t want to get up. He didn‘t want her to see him like that.

„Logan…“ Althea mumbled and came closer. „Is he…“ Logan could feel the tip of her cane slightly hit his leg. Then she stopped walking.

Logan didn‘t answer. But for Althea it was enough answer. Her hand tried to find Logan‘s shoulder and she gently stroked over it. But Logan didn‘t even pay attention to it.

It didn‘t matter anymore. Wade was dead… Just like everybody else… He hoped, no he begged to just wake up and have it be a bad dream. But something in him knew it wasn‘t a dream.

James ‚Logan‘ Howlett was destined to be alone, til the end of time…

————————

I hope you enjoyed my oneshot and it got as angsty as I wanted it to be🫶🏻

Feel free to correct any mistakes, english is only my secondary language.

See ya🫶🏻

[silverskyeline]

thinking about the fact that he was just hiding back there?? the whole time they were driving?? bro was definitely curled up like a cat like >:C

[phillyphillyphilly]

ANIMAL WAYS chapter 1/3

Logan x Deadpool AU fanfic 🔞 🔞 🔞

The one where they’re both underground cage fighters. Logan fights at the Void to pay for Laura’s school; Wade’s just fighting to feel alive.

Preview:

“If it’s alright with you,” Wade says, orange flame dancing in the dark pools of his eyes, “I’d really like to suck your dick now.” He flicks the Zippo closed.

Logan lets go of Wade’s wrist and takes a long pull, puffs out acrid smoke right into Wade’s face. “That’s your fucking problem,” Logan decides, Wade giving a tiny cough through the smoke. “You just say shit and don’t think through if it’s gonna get you hit.”

“You gonna hit me, peanut?”

That’s when Logan knows he’s fucked, he’ll decide later, when after he bared his pointy teeth untamed, Wade had moaned for more more more.