#it healed the hole left by Logan

[peterspideyparkers]

I just watched Deadpool and Wolverine and honestly the best marvel movie I have ever seen in my life. The movie was made with such love and you can absolutely feel it. I laughed and cried and it’s just so beautiful please go and watch it♥️

[peargreen-jellybean]

colored ‘em real quick just to do somethin

i wanted to make something instead of write something today, so i sketched my own dumbass deadpool and wolverine. idk

(click for less shit ass quality)

[mistyorchid]

Meet-Cute

Old Man!Logan x fem! reader

summary: Failed talking stages inspire you to meet someone irl. Riding an older man in the backseat of his limo makes you forget about the immature boys who ghosted you on Hinge. Ch. 2 Ch. 3 warnings: MDNI, no use of y/n, smut, age gap, reader is 21+, fingering, riding, size difference, praise kink, pet names (doll, baby, sweet/good girl, sweetheart), unprotected p in v, light slapping, oral (male!receiving), creampie, car sex (nobody's around tho), logan's slutty glasses. wc: 3k

Hinge. The app designed to be deleted. You smiled as you pushed the cart, daydreaming about chucking your phone into the nearest lake. The few matches that you received often ghosted you after a week, afraid of committing to a real date.

So here you were, aimlessly strolling through a grocery store. Desperately begging the universe for a real man.

You spent an embarrassingly long time curating the perfect outfit to attract a guy worth your time. Casual enough for a quick errand, but still chic. I want to be with someone who admires my confidence. They shouldn't reprimand me for expressing myself.

That's how the feminist part of your brain explained your attire. The other touch-starved half, however, wanted to wear the shortest skirt you owned just to feel men stare holes through it.

You turned into the bakery aisle and pretended to evaluate the nutritional contents of a massive chocolate cake. Maybe this could be plan B, if tonight's endeavor was hopeless.

The comforting hum of fluorescent lights softened the sterile environment around you. Memories of simpler times floated in your mind. Handmade school lunches. Gentle kisses placed on your knee after a bad fall. You closed your eyes, lulled by the promises of love you were granted as a child. Now an adult, you yearned for a partner that could nurture you in a romantic way.

Logan overheard a bag of produce spill onto the floor as he picked up a shopping basket. The cashier dropped it when he saw Logan's blood-stained dress shirt.

Mumbling a string of profanity, he decided to release some steam. "Show's over!" he snapped, flippantly tossing his right arm behind him.

Ignoring the shocked gasps of the other shoppers, Logan sulked further into the store in search of something to soothe his palate.

His doctor tentatively ordered him to "lay off the booze," a suggestion that left three deep puncture wounds in the drywall of his office. Alcohol numbed the emotional and physical pain that plagued him, but it also further delayed his healing powers.

Logan's skeleton was withering away, and all he wanted was a fucking sweet treat.

Your body braced for impact as your chest made contact with a shopper haphazardly turning into the aisle. After dropping the cake onto the pristine white tile, you closed your eyes again, salvaging the moment of peace that was stolen from you.

"Hey, watch where you're going, asshole." You reluctantly opened your eyes and were met with the solid torso of a man.

Slowly raking your gaze up his body, you raised your eyebrows at the sight of his bloody shirt before meeting his narrowed eyes.

Crows feet radiating from the corners. Prescription glasses. He appeared much older than you expected from your brief contact with his chest.

You silently cursed your luck. This meet-cute plan was steadily evolving into a meet-angry situation.

"Not smart to close your eyes in public," he huffed, staring pointedly at the fallen cake. It was hard not to notice your mini skirt. He hasn't seen a skirt that short since the 60s.

Although you had pulled away from him, the man's eyes lingered on your chest. The playful baby-doll top hugged your cleavage in all the right places. Your glossy lips donned a similar shade of pink. He quickly resumed eye contact, feeling like a dirty old man for imagining them wrapped around his cock.

She's too young, you sick fuck. Logan's internal monologue worked overtime to maintain a shred of decency.

Your face turned away from him at the impending embarrassment you were about to put yourself through. Smirking, you shyly retorted, "Not smart to stare at a girl's tits in public." You gently pushed up his glasses further onto the bridge of his nose.

Closing the gap between your chests, you tip-toed to reach his ear before whispering, "It's okay . . . I want you to."

The answer to Logan's suffering was sweeter than any slice of cake he could have indulged in. A pretty little thing was actually flirting with him, a cynical ex-soldier worn by the unforgiving rings of time.

Logan's hands found the back of your elbows and slowly pulled you closer to him. You gasped as you felt his belt buckle catch on the flimsy fabric of your top.

"Careful, doll," he grunted, leaning down to meet the side of your face. "I'm old enough to be your father."

You defiantly peered up at him through your lashes. "Yeah, and . . .?"

The man slowly distanced himself from you, gently tugging the hem of your top down to its original state.

Okay, definitely not the best response to seduce an older man. You chewed the inside of your cheek, stunned by your juvenile comeback.

"I'm sorry, kid. Forget I said anything," he muttered before turning into another aisle. He mentally kicked himself for letting the interaction go that far. Although his aching body and mind yearned for some relief, he wouldn't take advantage of some young girl.

He hurriedly stomped past the cashiers, swiping a few cigars from a distracted employee's station.

After the initial shock wore off, you quickly followed the older man to the parking lot. Totally not stalker-ish at all, right?

You wanted to take care of him. His reluctance to return your lust-sick gaze should have deterred you, but it only made you more desperate.

You watched as his hands dug into his pocket, pulling out a set of keys. The chipper click of the limo doors unlocking motivated you to get his attention.

"Hey! Can we talk?" You yelled, raising an outstretched palm to stop him from getting inside the car.

Logan froze at the sound of your voice. He contemplated being responsible, slamming his door and driving off without a second glance.

The gentle pressure of your hand wrapping around his wrist made him think extremely irresponsible thoughts.

Turning around to meet your gaze, the older man swiftly opened the passenger door. "Get in. Now," he growled.

Words betrayed you. All you responded with was a surprised squeak as he used your grip on his wrist to push you further into the vehicle.

His eyes widened as you briefly parted your thighs to get settled in the lush leather seat. The sinfully short hem of your skirt bunched up, revealing your underwear.

Logan whipped his head to the front of the limo, avoiding the sight of your body. Unfortunately, he couldn't avoid how you felt against his. You sat at an angle towards him, knees pressing against his thigh. His body tensed as you placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Why were you following me, huh?" he asked, finally meeting your eyes. "I've had a long fuckin' day and I need answers." He couldn't believe that a young woman like you would be interested in him.

"Yeah, you're old enough to be my father, maybe older-" you paused to move your left hand onto his thigh. "-but I'm done playing with boys." You shyly turned your head before continuing, "Need a real man."

Logan was done holding back. Now, it all made sense. Your lack of direction in the store, the low cut of your outfit that was way too sexy for a late night grocery run. We're both adults, he reasoned. She wants this.

He gingerly cradled your jaw with his large hand, turning your head towards his. "You sure about this, sweetheart?

You covered his hand with your own, bringing your lips to his in a spontaneous kiss. "I-I need to hear you," he stuttered.

"Shut up and fuck me, . . . " you sighed, pausing to ask for his name.

"Logan . . . call me Logan, doll." His left hand snaked around your waist, bunching the delicate material and exposing your breasts.

As you leaned into his palm, he fished the limo keys out of his pocket and clicked twice, locking the doors. He fondled the underside of your tits before rolling the sensitive nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

You were grateful for the tinted windows that shielded your embarrassing moans from the public.

"Already whining for me, hm? So fuckin' needy," he hummed, pushing up your top even further. You crossed your arms to undress, but Logan swatted them away, explaining, "It's cute. Wanna see your tits bounce for me, baby."

He gripped your ass with both hands and effortlessly swung you onto the broad expanse of his lap.

Your back arched as his rough palm cupped your pussy, thumb languidly tracing your sensitive bud through the cotton.

"But this . . . has to go," he drawled, tugging the elastic of your panties before letting it go with a faint snap.

It was too much. You were splayed over the lap of a stranger, hips wantonly rocking yourself over his prominent bulge and mewling as your sensitive clit caught on the rough fabric of his slacks.

He stilled your movements with his hands, lovingly kneading the flesh of your hips. "You okay with this?" he asked, searching your eyes for any sign of doubt. "Yeah, Logan . . . more than okay. Need you."

You loved that he was confident enough to take what he wanted but also gracious enough to check in, unlike the boys you were used to fucking around with.

His fingers hooked around the waistband of your skirt and panties, skillfully pushing your legs against your chest as he pulled them off. He decided against slicing them off with his claws, not wanting to hurt you. "Fuck. You're so pretty. My sweet, sweet girl . . ." he cooed. You whined as your aching cunt was finally exposed to Logan's hungry gaze and the chill night air. He groaned as you resumed desecrating his lap with your juices.

Your breath hitched as Logan traced two fingers along your bottom lip. You granted him access, playfully darting your tongue around his digits.

After his fingers were thoroughly soaked, he used your saliva to gently trace your hole, noticing the faint flutter of your walls.

"Need me to fill you up, hm? Poor baby's clenching around nothing. Let me fix that . . ." Logan's palm brushed against your clit as his fingers plunged into you, setting a steady pace.

You were incredibly wet, but he needed to prep you for his thick cock. He drooled, collecting a heavy wad of spit onto his tongue before letting it fall onto your pussy.

"Ah-ah!" You exclaimed, surprised by the contact. You bit your lip, cheeks flushing at the lewd feeling of his spit mixing with your wetness.

He used his other hand to slap repeatedly against your puffy folds, mesmerized by how vulnerable you were being for him.

"Yeah, you like that?" He whispered, curling his fingers as they met your cervix. You covered your mouth, desperately trying to maintain some modesty. Logan withdrew his left hand to pry away your arm and swallow your moans, sloppily slotting his lips into yours.

You gasped into his mouth as you felt your cunt spasm around his fingers, gushing all over his tight slacks.

"Oh, fuck! Logan . . . " you mewled, biting his lower lip while he continued to finger you through your orgasm.

Your head fell into the inviting crook of his neck, nuzzling his graying beard. "Atta girl, come for me," he cooed.

Logan peered down at you, noticing wet droplets dampening his beard. You were silently crying, tears cascading down your puffy cheeks before landing on his face.

At first, he was alarmed. "Hey, hey, shhhh," he purred. "What's the matter, doll?"

His cock twitched when he realized you were smiling against his neck.

"Nothing's wrong, Logan . . . you make me feel so good, that's all."

He planted a sweet kiss on your forehead. "Yeah? Want me to make you feel even better? Fill you up for real this time?"

You nodded dumbly, still basking in the haze of your release.

"Nuh-uh. Words." The simple command made you rut into his lap.

You shuddered while responding. "Wanna feel you inside me. Need your-" Logan bucked up into you. "-cock."

He slid his hands under your thighs, briefly pushing you forward so he could unbuckle his belt. Your small hands slinked toward his waist. "Let me do it," you pleaded, hastily sliding his belt through its loops and tossing it to the floor.

You pulled his cock out of his slacks, leaning down to press sweet little kisses to the head. Your thighs burned with the effort, but it was worth it to feel him momentarily lose control. Logan hissed sharply, "Good girl, fuck-" before guiding his thick cock into your heavenly mouth.

You licked a prominent vein that teased its way above his waistband. The taste of him was utterly intoxicating. You moaned onto his length, choking back tears as he suddenly thrust up into your eager throat.

The delicious weight of his cock on your tongue was short-lived. He cupped your face, forcing your mouth to slide past the tip with an obscene pop.

"Won't last long if you keep doing that, doll. Takes a lot less to get me riled up these days," he explained.

You nodded as you straightened yourself, using your knees to hover above his lap. He teasingly ran the flushed tip of his cock through your folds before sinking into your weeping pussy.

"Oh my god! fuck-" you cried, lowering your hips to embrace his full length. Your hands found stability on Logan's shoulders as you bounced on his cock.

Logan stared in awe at your tits. They were practically spilling out the sides of your cute top, jiggling with each movement of your hips.

As he admired your form, you drunk in the sight of his coarse salt and pepper beard. His wiry glasses barely held onto the slope of his strong nose due to your eager movements. You paid special attention to his crimson-stained shirt, wondering how he was enduring the wounds.

"You're hurt." You stated, pausing to slowly unbutton his dress shirt.

Logan's hands grabbed a handful of your ass and slammed you down onto his lap, forcing you to continue taking his cock.

"Never said you could stop," he huffed. "It'll take time, but I'm healing."

You gasped as your clit hitched on the bunched fabric of his slacks, frantically shrugging off his shirt in the process. A devastating moan ripped from Logan's throat as you peppered kisses on his wounds. The coppery taste of his blood was oddly soothing, reminding you that the man buried in your cunt was real and not just a figment of your lust-fueled imagination.

Logan loved how dazed you looked, your chest rising and falling with each shaky breath, your pupils dilated and glossy. His cock twitched every time your soft tits brushed against his face. You whined as the steady rhythm of your hips faltered, hinting at your imminent release.

"Lean forward, baby. Let your old man take care of you," he sighed, wrapping his broad arms around your waist. You allowed yourself to slump forward, arching your back and playfully wiggling your ass in the air.

You yelped as he slapped your ass with enough force to feel the sting radiate from his outstretched palm. "Such a fuckin' tease," he growled, filling you up in one thrust. He set a punishing pace that made you sob into his chest. The loud squelches of your release echoed throughout the limo, mirroring your high-pitched wines.

"Oh, my god! . . ." you mewled, savoring the feeling of his cock stretching your walls. Your breath hitched every time his hips met yours, balls slapping against the sensitive skin of your ass.

He fucked up into your cunt, relishing the fact that you'd probably never had a cock as big as his. Logan stared at where you were connected, hypnotized by the subtle drag of your folds along his rugged length.

"Don't know what I did to deserve a pretty girl like you." His teeth tugged on the delicate strap of your top, exposing your breasts. His mouth enveloped the bud, gently sucking and pulling as they hardened.

"Logan . . . can't take it anymore. I'm close." You clenched around him, earning another hard slap on your ass.

"You gonna come for me sweetheart, hm?" He somehow increased his pace, hips drilling into your sensitive cunt. "C'mon, come all over my cock. Such a sweet young thing, so eager to please . . . " he hummed into your ear.

"And just so we're clear, I am definitely older than your father." His filthy words made you arch even higher, stilling your hips mid-air and allowing Logan to fuck you through your release.

The sound of you faintly chanting his name as you came sent him over the edge. "You can take it," he encouraged as your pathetic whines intermingled with his unabashed groans. His hips drove home, bouncing you harshly against his tense thighs and spilling into you with a low growl.

You almost blacked out at the feeling of his cum spurting into your walls, reaching even further when Logan buried his cock to the hilt. You clenched around him, overstimulated and thoroughly fucked.

"That's it, just relax . . . You look so pretty milking my cock," he praised, brushing stray hair away from your face.

You managed to sit upright and shakily moved to lift yourself off his cock, but Logan quickly steadied your hips. He's still hard, you realized, fascinated by his renewed vigor.

He panted, obviously just as spent as you were.

"So, uh, tomorrow, the Italian place on fifth street, 8 PM?"

You narrowed your eyes, incredibly confused at his choice of words after experiencing the best sex you've ever had.

"Our first date," he clarified. He kissed your cheek and you blushed at the contrast between the innocent action and the fact that his hard cock was still buried in your cunt. "After all, I'm a real man, right? And real men plan dates." He plastered on a cocky grin, repeating your earlier statements.

"Okay, old man. It's a date." You smiled, kissing his mouth with passion.

an: Ah!!! I had so much fun writing this. Old Man Logan, when will it be my turn >:[

[robo-writing]

NSFW Alphabet - Logan Howlett Edition

Pairing: Logan Howlett/Reader Warnings: AFAB pronouns, breeding mention, pet names, bodily fluids, p in v actions, no protection, overall horniness, 18+ MDNI. Author's Note: This man is renting space in my synapses, send help.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He is so gentle with you, it almost makes you feel like you’re made out of glass. He prefers to hold you close once you’re thoroughly satisfied, enjoying how your body folds into him to be as close as possible.

If you ask him for water and snacks he’s gone within the second, bringing you whatever you need, and then immediately putting you back on his lap so he can feed you. Don’t argue with him on this, he won’t take no for an answer.

You collapse against the sheets with a sigh, legs still shaky from Logan’s excellent bedside service. You’re practically boneless when he pulls you onto his chest, the dark hair tickling your cheek as he cages you in his embrace.

“Logan, I’m sweaty—“

“Do I look like I give a damn princess?” He grumbles, his hands reaching down to smooth over your hair. “Just let me take care of you, alright?”

Your whining is just for show and he knows this, a small part of you feeling guilty because he always treats you with such respect. He’s not sure what kind of assholes you’ve been dating before but he’s damn certain he’ll be the one to teach you how you should be treated.

You melt in his arms, eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of his large hands running down your back. His voice cuts through the silence, far more gentle than you’re used to. 

“Need anything else doll?” He asks, to which you shake your head. 

No, tonight you just need him. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He’s an all around man, asking him that is like asking a man to choose between air and food to survive.

He loves playing with your tits, loves biting at the swell of your breasts before sucking on them, loves burying his face in the valley of them—

He loves using your thighs as an anchor when he eats your pussy, rolling his eyes when they squeeze around his head—

He loves the sight of your ass bouncing back when he fucks you into the mattress, the sound of your combined hips ringing loudly in his head—

He really just loves you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

It only took one time for him to be utterly addicted to your pussy. He refuses to cum anywhere that isn’t inside you at least once, just the sight of it falling from your abuser cunt has him going back for seconds. The sloppy sound of your juices and his cum as he thrusts into you is like asmr.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Masochist to the extreme. You kind of had a feeling with the way he shrugs off pain but you didn’t know how bad it was until you scratched him just a bit too hard while getting your guts rearranged. 

Your nails dig into the meat of his arms, a deep-seated groan erupting from the back of his throat at the feeling. Immediately you look down to see the angry red marks left behind that heal within seconds, an apology on your lips interrupted by his voice growling in your ear.

“Do that again.”

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

The man is over two hundred years old, he lays down pipe like a master plumber. Knows all your spots better than you do, knows exactly what gets you going because he can practically taste the arousal in the air. Those senses of his are no joke.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary so he can see your face, doggystyle so he can fuck a hole into the mattress and breed you. 

Prefers missionary normally if only for the fact that when he puts even half his full weight on your body you’re forced to lie there and take it, unable to so much as squirm while he fucks you within an inch of your life. Enjoys doggy when the beast inside needs to scratch a particular itch that only seeing you ass up with cum dripping down your thighs can reach.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

A wholesome 50/50 of being love-struck and horny, he has his moments of laughter but they’re almost always immediately followed by pure lust. You’d think he’d be super serious all the time but he’s surprisingly gentle. He prefers to watch you enjoy yourself, he’s much more of a service top in that regard.

Want him to eat you out until you’re pushing his head away? Want him to fuck you nice and slow, keeping you right on the edge? Whatever your flavor is, he’s down for a taste.

That’s not to say he doesn’t have his rough moments as well. It’s very easy for him to lose himself so he tries not to go overboard for your safety, but if you ask him to let loose he’s not going easy on you. Just remember when you wake up unable to walk that you asked for this.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Not groomed at all, just an overall hairy man. He’s got the prettiest happy trail from his navel to his dick that makes his eyes roll when you drag your nails across it. If it made you uncomfortable he’d make an effort to trim.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Very intimate, wants you to know just how much you mean to him. Even when he’s being rough with you he makes sure that your comfort is priority. Talks you through it.

You’re face down, ass up, just the way he likes it. Your thighs tremble with the aftershocks of your orgasm, pussy practically drooling for him as your slick dribbles down the plushness of them.

It’s a sight that Logan could never get tired of. 

His fingers rub soothing circles around your sensitive clit, gathering your wetness between two fingers and listening to your breath hitch when he replaces them with his cock, lightly prodding at your entrance.

“How we feelin’ princess?” He asks, coating his length with your juices. 

You mumble praise into the pillow, and sure he can hear it with his enhanced senses, but that’s not the point—he wants you loud and clear.

Gently he lifts you off the bed, a strong arm around your waist as he rocks himself between your swollen folds, lips trailing at your ear as your head rolls back.

“Come on doll, I need to be able to hear you,” he breathes. “Tell me what you want.”

Your hands grab at his arm, a desperate whine on your lips. “Fuck me, please.”

His chuckle reverberates in your ear. “That’s my girl.”

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

When he was younger and still learning how to fight his animal instincts, absolutely. Nowadays he doesn’t really think about it, but occasionally Logan will struggle with keeping his thoughts off of you, especially when you’re wearing something nice and he doesn’t have the time to drag you back to the bedroom. 

He’d prefer if you were the one touching him, but his hand will do for now, if at the very least to hold him over until you get home.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praise - Like mentioned before, adores talking you through it. Favorite nicknames for you are princess, baby, and sweetheart, and his voice in your ear is like heaven.

Pain Kink - BIG masochist. Use him like a scratching post, he loves it. He’ll never admit it but if you bite his lip hard enough to bleed he’ll moan like a whore.

Primal Play - Come on now, the man is an animal at the best of times and downright feral at the worst. This extends beyond the bedroom too, he’s very protective of his mate girlfriend and would move mountains for her.

Breeding - This is an extension of his primal play, he adores filling you up with his cum, whether or not you get pregnant. Something about the sight of it just screams at him like a claim that only he can give you. It’s his cum that paints your pussy, and no one else gets to have that honor.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Ideally the bedroom but he’s one of those people that couldn’t care less, if he wants you he wants you. It’s going to be up to you to be the voice of reason, and if that fails? Better learn to keep your volume down.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Domestic acts, making him feel like a normal man rather than the weapon the world wants him to be. 

Making him breakfast? His hands are playing with your hips the whole time, whispering sweet nothings against the skin of your neck, swaying to the imaginary rhythm he sets. Cleaning the countertops? He drapes his wide frame across your back, pinning you to the cold granite while he tells you how good your ass looks in your pants, heavy hands making it known just how much he appreciates your attire. Bring him breakfast in bed in nothing but an apron? He’s pulling you into the sheets and not letting you go until you’re screaming his name.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

As much as a masochist he is, the last thing he’d ever do is hurt you. The most you could ever convince him to do is manhandling you or spanking, but the moment he senses anything but enjoyment he’s on his knees apologizing.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Y’all remember what Doja Cat said about big noses? 

If he passes out between your legs he’ll die smiling, if he makes you pass out then he’s never going to let you hear the end of it. Very likely to overstimulate you until you’re pushing him off you, only to pin your hips down and keep on going. Enjoys palming your thighs and burying his face as far into your pussy as he can, his philosophy is if you can still speak he’s not doing well enough.

As for him, he becomes so submissive when you suck him off. It’s the only time he’s guaranteed to let you take the reins, he prefers watching you work rather than taking over. Tucks your hair back, strokes your head, whispers how good you make him feel and how your mouth feels like heaven. When he cums he’ll ask you to open your mouth before swallowing and the sight of your cum-stained lips gets him hard like nothing else.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Normally very sensual, can easily change with the drop of a hat. Long, deep strokes that reach all the right places and make you see stars. Massive service top vibes, one of those lovers that always knows what you need at the moment (he totally can’t hear your heart pounding in your chest, no sir.)

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Yes, and proud to admit it too. Always promises that he’ll be quick, but it never is. He can’t help it, y’know? You make him feel too good.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yes, but the catch is you have to tell him. You can throw him every hint in the world but he won’t so much as touch you until you use your words. Logan likes hearing how desperate you are, he’s a bit mean like that.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Why would you ever bother asking that? His limit is when you decide to tap out, if even that. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Didn’t really understand and thought you were insulting him at first by offering to use toys in the bedroom. It wasn’t until you gave him a show that he realized just how much he was missing before.

If anything, he doesn’t feel the need to use them on you, but loves watching you use them on yourself.

The small toy buzzes in your hand, the sound of it ringing loudly in the four walls you call a bedroom. Soft sighs accentuated by needy whines, baby pink sheets snaking around your soft thighs, the muffled sounds of your moans when you bite your lip—

“Fuckin’ Christ,” Logan says, mesmerized at the view, eyes glued to where the vibrator meets your swollen clit. He palms at the tent in his jeans, cock twitching when your back arches off the bed with a cry of his name.

He can fucking smell it—your arousal, your need—it makes him drunk, intoxicated off your pleasure. It makes his throat go dry, makes him want to crawl over you and keep you locked beneath him, greedily wringing out every last bit of it.

Your voice cuts through the fog of carnality, a gentle distraction from the beast that threatens to break loose with every passing second.

“Enjoying the view?”

He can only bring himself to nod.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s such a fucking tease it’s unreal, but he’s also very impatient. It leads to moments where you’ve been edged for so long that tears are brimming your eyes, and when you look at him with those puppy-dog eyes he can’t bring himself to hold off any longer, all previous plans discarded in favor of folding you in half and exposing your puffy cunt to his hungry gaze.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He gets louder and louder the longer you go on as his animal side overpowers him. He’s no stranger to noise but when he’s deep inside you he can’t help but resort to grunts and growls of your name, makes it known just how good you feel wrapped around his cock.

I personally like the idea that because of his mutation he follows mating rituals like real wolverines do, so if you’re into that he’s extra loud during mating season, to the point that he has to bury his face into your neck or else the whole building will hear him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Likes it when you wear his clothes because they smell like you afterward. Encourages you to do so, and maybe hides your shirts during laundry day as an excuse (but he’ll never admit it.) When you’re not around he’ll even hold the fabric to his nose and take a deep inhale, imagining it was you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

As mentioned before, an overall hairy man. Strong muscles with a healthy layer of fat, likes to laugh at you when you bury your face between his tits because they’re nice and soft.

When it comes to his dick he leaves nothing to be desired—it’s heavy, like real heavy. Nice and girthy with a fat tip that makes your breath catch in your chest every time he glides it in, the slap of his balls against your ass soon following suit. A nice pretty pink with a couple of veins running throughout.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Always when he’s around you, but trained enough to know there’s a time and place. If he had his way you’d never leave his house, but that’s also his protective nature talking.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Likes watch you fall asleep first to make sure you’re safe and sound—a bit paranoid and overprotective in that sense, but he can’t really help it. You’re the best thing that’s happened to him, so it calms him down to know that you’re not going anywhere. Once he’s sure you’re alright he’ll go to sleep, preferably with you on his chest.

[pedroscurls]

in every lifetime

summary: you lost logan in this universe. logan lost you in his. what happens when you both see each other again, but realize that you're both from different worlds? pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader warnings: post deadpool & wolverine ("worst" logan!variant), angst (mentions of death, loss from both reader and logan), no use of y/n. word count: 2.1k a/n: this is my first logan fic, so if anything is ooc, i'm sorry in advanced! just like everyone else, i've been obsessed with hugh jackman / logan after watching deadpool & wolverine (if it isn't obvious lol)... i had the song 'unchained melody' in mind when writing this story because whenever i hear it, i think of logan for some reason lol (tried to embed it but it didn't work, but i'd highly recommend listening to the song while reading this!) anyway, hope you enjoy! next part.

“I’ll be back.”

“But what if–”

“I always come back, bub.” Logan’s looking down at you, hand cupping your cheek. In moments like this, you can see the age in his features. The crows feet at the corners of his eyes. The gray in his hair and beard. 

“Logan…” Tears sting your eyes. You know he has to leave, has to go help Charles, but there’s a feeling deep in your gut that knows that if he goes, he isn't coming back. 

“Wait for me, then.” He says, dipping down to gently peck your lips. “Okay? Wait for me.” 

“Logan,” you repeat. “What do I do if I– if I lose you?” 

There’s a feeling in the pit of Logan’s stomach, a sense of dread and fear that he’s only ever felt when you were concerned. This feels a lot like a goodbye… That maybe if he does go, he won’t come back. And the thought alone scares him. He never used to have to think about the possibility of dying, his regenerative powers always healing him in record time, but he knows that he doesn’t heal as quickly as before. He feels more pain now than he ever had. And he knows he’s sick, knows that the adamantium that once gave him strength is now slowly making him weaker.

But now, the thought of dying… It fucking scared him. It scared him to think that he’d leave you here, all alone, grieving him. He had never thought he’d be deserving of someone like you, to be loved and taken care of so gently, so sweetly, so patiently. Even with all of the baggage he carried, you never pushed. He knew, right off the bat, that you deserved someone so much better than him, but you stayed. 

Through it all, you stayed. 

And Logan would forever be grateful. After everything he’s been through, the things he’s seen, the things he had to do, the people he’s lost, you gave him a life that was finally worth living. 

“Then, you move on, darlin’.” Logan finally answers. 

“And if I can’t?” 

“You’ll have to.” 

“I don’t… I don’t want you to go, but I know that you have to. Charles needs you and–”

“I love you with every fiber of my being, baby,” Logan interjects. “And I will love you in every lifetime.” 

And that was almost a year ago. The moment he stopped calling, you knew that was it. That he either got into some real trouble or… Or that he was no longer here. It wasn’t until a young girl named Laura showed up on your doorstep, holding his dog tags that your assumptions were correct. 

You had fallen to your knees, a sob escaping your lips, as you felt your world come crashing down. Logan��s death had left a gaping hole in your heart, in your life, and everywhere you looked and everywhere you went, all you could see was him. 

You learned from Laura that during his last moments, he had told her to come and find you, that you would take care of her and give her a good life. Whenever you were around her, you tried to be strong, tried to put on a brave front, but behind closed doors, you were a complete mess. There were days where you didn’t want to get out of bed, didn’t want to eat; you just wanted the pain to stop. Every night, whenever you closed your eyes, you forced yourself to sleep because that was the only place where you could be with him. 

In your dreams, he was alive. 

In your dreams, he had made it back home.

In your dreams, he was here with you, helping raise Laura. 

And every time you woke up, you were welcomed with the sudden reality that he wasn’t alive. He wasn’t coming back home. He wasn’t ever going to be here with you to help raise Laura. 

Logan was dead and now, you had to try and learn how to move on. 

For yourself.

For Laura.

For Logan. 

—

He didn’t know what he was doing here, why he agreed to stay with Wade because it was driving him crazy. This wasn’t even his timeline; he wasn’t even meant to be here. Despite saving Wade’s timeline, Logan still found it hard to fit in. He tried to keep Wade and every single one of his friends at an arm's distance because he knows what happens to people he cares about. 

But the more time he spent around them, the more he felt at ease. Logan would be lying if he said he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, but when Laura mentioned your name at one of Wade’s family dinners, his heart skipped a beat. When he realized he would be able to stay in this timeline, you were all he could think about. 

Logan wondered if you existed in this world and what he would do if you did. So, when Laura casually said your name, his head turned around so quickly that he felt dizzy. There were so many things he regretted in his own timeline, but you were his biggest regret. 

Just like he failed the other X-men, Logan had failed you too. You had been there with the other X-men, trying to warn them of a planned attack and ended up getting caught in the crossfire. You had called out for him, just like Scott, like Charles, like Storm. 

He managed to get to you before you had taken your last breath, holding you in his arms. Logan begged and begged for you to fight, that he’d do things right from now on as long as you just held on, but you were losing so much blood and Logan couldn’t stop it. 

Even then, when you had every right to be angry with him, you gazed up at him with an understanding look on your face. You had always been so patient and kind, so sweet and considerate. You had made him so happy and it scared him, which ultimately ended in pushing you away because he didn’t think he was deserving of it. Of you. 

“I love you, Logan,” you had said, wincing at the pain. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m–” Logan felt a sob catch in his throat, tears stinging his eyes as he looked down at you. “Please, baby, please please please, don’t–”

“I–” you coughed, eyes fluttering as you felt the pain overcome your entire body. “I will love you in every lifetime, Logan.” And then, you took your last breath, eyes falling shut and body falling limp in his arms. 

Since then, Logan drank himself day after day, from dawn to dusk. The alcohol never truly helped, his regenerative powers sobering him so fast, but with every swig of liquor, it burned. And he spent years bringing pain unto others, including himself. 

That was, until he met Wade who had given him a chance, a reason to fight for something… To not turn his back on someone who relied on him. A chance for redemption, to finally make things right. 

“So, will you meet her?” Laura asks, holding Dogpool in her arms as she gazes up at Logan. “She– She used to be with this universe’s Logan and…”

“No chance, kid.” Logan interrupts, shaking his head. “I’m not him.” 

“Did you have someone like her in yours?” she asks. “She’s always put me first, always made sure I was taken care of even when she didn’t have to, when she was grieving. And I think–” Laura sighs. “I think if she knows that some version of you is alive, it would make her real happy.”

“I’m not him,” Logan growls, feeling his irritation spike. “‘Sides, she’s better off without me.” He stands from the table and walks out into Wade’s balcony to get some fresh air, shutting the door behind him as he leans against the railing.

“But she’s coming tonight,” Laura finally says, long after Logan’s walked away.

Throughout the rest of the dinner, Logan remains outside. He can hear the muffled laughter coming from inside and it only angered him because it was just another confirmation that he didn’t belong here. He’s already on his fourth bottle of beer when he hears a familiar voice, smells a recognizable scent. He turns slightly and catches you stepping into Wade’s apartment, an arm slinging over Laura’s shoulders so casually, so maternally. 

He feels his heart rate pick up. Your smile still lights up a room and he can’t help but his lips turning upwards at the sight. With his enhanced hearing, Logan can hear your voice and he shuts his eyes for a moment, tuning all of his attention on you until you’re the only one he hears. 

Then, he hears your laugh and he lets out a sigh. He never thought he’d be able to hear that again, but his eyes shoot open when he hears you say his name. There’s a shocked tone in your voice, laced with sadness and hope. It all but crushes him because he knows that you’re probably expecting someone else, expecting this world’s Logan and he doesn’t want to disappoint you. Not again. He doesn’t think he’d be able to handle it if he were to hurt you again. 

But when he looks at you, his breath catches in his throat when your eyes meet his. Logan notices the surprise look on your face, but before he could try and escape, you’re already walking towards him. When you open the door and step out with him, your scent fills his senses and it makes him dizzy, like he can’t fully concentrate. 

“You…” he hears you say, voice unsteady. “You’re not… I’m–” you sigh and shake your head. 

“I know who you are,” Logan finally says, his own voice shaky. 

Your hands reach out for him, but stopping halfway when you realize this isn’t your Logan. This is not the same man who died all those years ago. This is some version of him – much younger, less wrinkles and gray hairs in his hair and beard, but he still has that same look on his face. The scowl. 

“From Laura?” you ask hesitantly. 

“From my universe,” Logan answers. 

“There– There’s a version of me in your universe?” 

“There was.”

“And what happened to me?” 

Logan’s jaw tightens. “The same thing that happened to your Logan in this universe.”

“Oh.” Your face drops, eyes softening. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

Logan wants to run far from here, far from you because he feels himself yearning for more. He almost forgot how it felt like to be near you, to be inches away that he can just reach out and pull you into his arms. Your eyes captivate him, the kindness it expresses makes him feel like he matters. You had always made him feel that way that even through all of his anger, through all of the walls he put up, you showed him that he was deserving of something good. Even if he didn’t believe it himself. 

And you… You were the best thing to ever happen to him.

“Don’t know why you’re apologizin’,” Logan mutters. 

There’s an uncomfortable silence that engulfs the both of you. He can see the tears threatening to spill over, can see the way your lower lip is beginning to tremble and he has this sudden urge to console you, to wipe away the tears that have now fallen down your cheeks. 

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, bringing your hands up to wipe away the tears that seem to be trickling down your face nonstop. “I just– Losing my Logan just crushed me and I don’t think I’ve ever recovered.” 

My Logan. 

Logan can practically feel his heart beating in his chest. This isn’t a conversation that he thought he would be having and certainly not with someone he loved and died because of him. 

“That’s okay,” Logan responds quietly, his tone softening. “I don’t think it’s easy to recover from losing someone you love.”

“Did you– Did you love me in your universe?” 

Logan nods slowly, tightening his jaw as he gazes down at you. “With every fiber of my being.” 

Your eyes widen and stare up at him. This might be a different Logan, but hearing those words again just brings you back to the moment you last saw your Logan before he left to go take care of Charles. 

“Did you love me in yours?” Logan asks hesitantly.

You nod instantly, tears trickling down your cheek as you stare up at him. “I’d love you in every lifetime.” 

Logan feels his own set of tears pool at the corners of his eyes and he moves a hand to rest on the railing, fingers lightly brushing against yours as he stares into your eyes. 

“I’m not him,” he whispers. 

“I know,” you say quietly. “And I’m not her.” 

[thinkinonsense]

old man!logan x fem!reader

masterlist

— nothing was going right for logan tonight. work was shit and his body ached with indescribable pain. the only thing he wanted to do was crawl home to you.

"l-lo...?"

your sleepy voice was barely audible. logan tried to be quiet as he came into the house later than usual.

"hey, princess." he mutters, ridding himself of his suit jacket and slipping off his shoes.

"come lay down with me." you beg softly, wanting him to scoop you up into his big arms and cradle you like a delicate little thing.

"in a minute..." he replies, kneeling down at the foot of the bed. "wanna see my girl."

logan pulls the thin sheet off of your body; only covered by one of his shirts and a pair of lavender panties. nothing special but he adored them anyways.

"looks like she missed me too." he groans, swiping his thumb over the wet spot that grows in between your legs.

still half asleep but moaning quietly into one of the pillows next to you.

lately this is all he's been wanting to do when he returns home. lay in between your legs either slowly making out with your cunt or fingering you until you're on the verge of tears. not that you minded this sudden change, never rejecting logan from his acclaimed spot between your thighs.

"gonna let me spend some time with her, sweetheart?" he says, not expecting a verbal response.

you lazily nod your head and lift your hips a little so he can pull down your panties, tossing them aside.

"atta girl."

the low rumble in his voice left you whimpering. like a tease, logan spreads your folds, watching your arousal leak from within you. he loved splitting you open and seeing his affect on you.

"what's gotcha so soaked, baby?" he coos at your cunt, blowing a little air on it and watching how your body responds to it, hips wiggling and hole clenching for him.

"she's just cryin' for me, huh?" he chuckles, lifting your tired legs back near your head as he towers over you.

"p-please..." you whine, looking up at him with glossy eyes.

without saying a word, logan slips his middle and ring fingers inside of you, nudging that sweet spot of yours. a choked moan escapes you and your hands fly to his wrist. what's usually gentle soon turns vigorous at the pace he's moving.

"uh- fuck!" you gasp, fully awake now. " 's too much, lo."

"you can take it, sweetheart." he says sternly as his other hand draws circles on one of your legs, holding them in the air.

heat pools in your belly as you scratch your nails down logan's wrists. he can't help but adore the little 'uh-uh-uh's' spilling from your plump lips. the lewd slaps of slick fill the room as his pace picks up, bumping his fingertips against the spongy spot inside of you.

"d-don't stop, please." you beg, staring up at him with glossy, glazed over eyes. soft little mumbles of "pleasepleaseplease" ringing in logan's ears like his favorite song.

"fuck, practically cutting off my circulation." logan grunts before spitting on your button and using his thumb to stimulate you further.

all that can be heard are your incoherent babbles and logan's grunts of encouragement. his thick rough fingers stretch you in ways you didn't think were possible.

logan leans down to kiss your trembling lips, grunting at the little whimpers that escape. the fast slaps of his palm on your clit makes you bite down on his lower lip, healing so quickly that you don't even taste any blood.

"c'mon princess..." he groans, pulling apart just enough to speak. "be a good girl and soak my hand for me."

in that moment, his fingers inside of you are perfectly timed with the circles his thumb draws, sending you into a state of nirvana. panting and moaning against logan's lips while he praises you.

"that's it, sweetheart."

"there's my good girl."

once your heart rate returns to normal, logan cleans you up with a small rag before laying down in bed next to you. his muscular arms wrap around you and pull you in so he can spoon you.

"miss me that much?" you ask with a small chuckle as he kisses your neck.

"mhm, had another shitty day and needed to spend some time with my girl." he answers, words muffled by your hair.

"aw, i'm sorry baby." you turn over to face him, pecking his lips. "anything i can do to make it better?"

"it's already better now, honey." he reassures, brushing hair out of your face.

"too bad...." you smirk. "was gonna offer to ride you."

logan's eyes darken with lust as you move to straddle him, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. warm hands roam around his shirtless torso, innocently drawing lazy outlines of his abs.

who could blame you for wanting to be an attentive girlfriend?

[avocado-writing]

Hi gorgeous could I request a Deadpool x reader x Wolverine smut where it's basically the car fight in the movie and the reader is in it? Reader can regenerate just like them but during the fighting things for a turn? Also female reader :)

sure - I’ve seen a few takes on this, so here’s my brief one too! (I am not an action writer. I am a smut writer. Be kind).

words: 2k

rating: explicit. minors dni. spit roast; oral (reader giving); p in v sex; violence as foreplay; excessive use of the word ‘fuck’; a LOT of dirty talk

If you could trade all your powers for the ability to make Wade Wilson shut the fuck up, it would be no contest. You wouldn’t be a mutant and Deadpool would be silent. 

Fucking hell, how many holes has his mouth dug you into? He’s a dear friend, of course - one you’ve definitely not been nursing a crush on, don’t look at that too deeply - but come on. The guy’s an idiot. You don’t know how he managed to get someone as ruggedly handsome and emotionally constipated as the Wolverine to come along with you (not that you’re complaining, he’s pretty good eye candy too. You’ve had a thing for the idea of him for probably about a decade and, though this particular variant is as rough as they come, he’s still hot) but there has to be a time limit to this success. This is only accentuated when Logan slams the brakes on the Odyssey, throwing you forward from your position in the captain’s seat. 

“Fuck!” you mutter. You definitely just broke your nose from the way you slammed into the cup holder. Turns out seatbelts are made to be worn, who knew? As you focus on twisting it back into place, feeling the cartilage heal and blood congeal, you’re vaguely aware of the argument happening up front. 

Logan’s finally cottoned on to Wade’s bullshit, and it giving a pretty savage monologue about how much of a fuckup he is. You frown. 

“Come on, dude, chill out, he was only trying to —”

“You can shut the fuck up too! You’re just as fucking bad as him! Jesus Christ he may be shoe-in for the world’s biggest asshole but you’re the one trailing around after him with the fucking puppy dog eyes,” Logan snarls. You see Wade frown from under the mask, letting Logan’s vitriol towards you sink in.  

“Don’t you dare talk to her like that.” His tone is serious. Deadly. Logan laughs. 

“Or fuckin’ what, mouth?”

He does not see the sucker punch Wade throws, and then his nose is bleeding. He lunges for your friend with his teeth bared. A wild animal.   

“Stop-!” you shout, darting forward to grab him. An elbow collides with your already sore nose and you yelp in pain. Wade has a knife in his hand immediately and is sinking it into the soft meat of Logan’s thigh, who hisses and extends his claws. One set goes through your calf, the other into Wade’s chest. 

“You fucking cunt!” you scream, grabbing your gun from your belt and unloading it into Logan’s centre mass. The force makes him retract his hand but doesn’t stop him from grabbing your hair and slamming your face into the console. 

“Shit!”

“I told you that you needed a haircut, pookie,” sighs Wade as he shoves baby knife into Logan’s jugular, having to reach over your body to do it. You shoot him in the kneecap. 

“Ow! What the fuck, I’m on your side!” he shrieks. 

“Don’t talk about my hair Wade! It’s a very! Sensitive! Subject!” You punctuate your sentences with fists to the Wolverine’s abdomen. He doesn’t even seem fazed. Instead, Logan lunges for your friend, pressing his groin into your face - and that makes it very obvious that he’s having a… reaction. 

“Holy shit,” you whisper, not loud enough for anyone to hear. 

Logan throws Wade out of the car, the sound of breaking glass a symphony behind you. Some of it decorates your hair. The two of you are left with a second alone; when you reach forward he goes to punch, but when you cup him through his suit he freezes. 

“What…?” Logan snarls, half taken aback, half turned on. 

“Sorry, old man, all the fighting working for you? Surprised you can even get it up any more…” you breathe. From the way his pupils dilate the answer is yes. Pain shoots from your chest as his claws stab you through the heart, but you grin and reach in to lick a line up the side of his face, burying your tongue in his beard. 

“Fuck… you…” he manages, growling when you bite the shell of his ear a little too hard. 

“We don’t have to fight, Lo.”

The door is ripped off Wade charges back in, throwing you into the back so that he can get at Logan. Clearly he mistook your flirting for fighting, when it was definitely the other way around. He unloads a clip into the other man’s stomach, but you grab his arm and redirect, sending a spray of bullets through the Odyssey’s ceiling and grazing your shoulder. 

“What are you—?” asks Wade, but then his face is in your hands and you’re kissing him over the mask. A pause as he registers what’s happening. Then he buries his sword through Logan’s chest to keep him pinned as he wrestles with the fabric, freeing his mouth so that he can kiss you back. 

“I don’t understand,” Wade breathes, taking you in, eyes wide and breaths heavy. 

“Don’t try to,” you argue, pulling his blade out of Logan and cleaning the blood off it with your tongue. Wade clearly isn’t entirely sure what’s going on, but from the way his mouth drops open, he’s never been so horny for something so weird his whole life. 

You turn to Logan and kiss him with his own blood on your lips. He grunts beneath you, sinking a claw into your hip to keep you in place. It hurts, but also…

“Fuck. Sadistic old man,” you breathe, sinking your nails into his face.  

“Little fuckin’ freak,” he replies, biting your lip so hard it bleeds. 

“Holy shit, is this happening?” Wade asks. You manoeuvre so you’re aimed towards his lap, grabbing Logan’s arm and forcing it out of you. Your blood spills down your flank. 

“Stop commenting about it and fuck me, Wade,” you sigh.

He looks across the length of you to Logan who gives a curt nod. 

“Put your fuckin’ money where your mouth is, bub,” he hisses. This is all the permission Wade needs. You hear him tearing at the belt of his suit, positioning himself so that he can free his cock. There’s no time to strip. This is going to be rough and dirty and mostly clothed. 

You’ve never been so glad to dress in a two piece in your life. 

Your fingers work with Logan’s at the fly on his suit as Wade’s hands drag your pants down; he traces the cheeks of your ass, kneading your flesh and giving a running commentary of how fucking pleased he is. 

“Holy shit, baby, look at you. Thought honey badger was the kinky one here but you’re dripping wet,” you hiss as he slaps down on the meat of you, throwing a look over your shoulder at him. He shrugs as if to say, what did you expect me to do? Logan’s hand on your jaw quickly guides you back. 

“Eyes on me,” he growls, finally able to pull his cock from the confines of his suit. It bobs in your face, thick and heavy and delicious. The fingers still cupping your face press down, popping your mouth open for him. When Logan’s thumb presses inside you suck on it so hard that his eyes go wide; it tastes of blood and dirt and fuck you can feel yourself leaking down your thighs as Wade rubs his length against your folds. 

No more encouragement is needed as you open your mouth and swallow as much of Logan down as you can fit. He groans above you, hands burying into your hair. 

God, he’s big. Fucking threatens to dislocate your jaw. Oh well, you could click it back into place anyway and keep going. It’s the sort of thing you’re willing to compromise on if you can keep getting him to make those noises - filthy, laboured, desperate. Bucking his hips upwards into your mouth to make you take more of him. You moan around him and the rumble of your throat makes him hiss, pulling your hair so tight he threatens to rip it out. 

You don’t care. 

You wonder why Wade hasn’t pushed inside you yet, and your question is answered when you hear him spit. You’re aware of the feeling of saliva dripping down your cunt, thick and halfway to sordid. Wade rubs it into your clit, marking you as his, before finally sheathing himself with one thrust. 

Ohhhh fuck. Yeah. There it is. 

You moan around Logan’s dick as Wade stuffs you absolutely to the brim. You’ve never been so full. Your mouth is stoppered and so is your desperate pussy, and when Wade starts to piston himself inside you it only serves to force you forward into the older man’s lap. The hair at the base of his cock presses deliciously against your lips and he makes a choking sound that could be your name. His hand, still present, is less strict now. He holds you in something akin to a caress. 

“Fuckin’ look at you…” he breathes. You want to roll your eyes at him pretending this is anything other than gratification. You leave his cock with a wet pop. 

“You just want something warm and tight to cum in, old man,” you say, letting your hand take over for a second while your jaw rests. 

Wade laughs as he holds you even tighter, but there’s something tinging it. Bitterness?

“You should see the way he looks at you when he thinks you don’t notice, pookie. Looks like our Wolvie is smitten.”

You glance up at Logan from where you’ve started kissing the length of his cock, and he looks… disgruntled. Oh shit. Wade’s hit a nerve there. 

“She’s clearly fuckin’ in love with you, you idiot,” he snarls. 

Wade’s hips stutter as he’s pistoning in and out of you, this unexpected revelation interrupting his pace. 

“You are?”

Aww man, this isn’t the time for this, but it looks like it’s happening anyway, huh?

“I like both of you,” you say, simply, because you do. “That’s why both of your cocks are inside me. Now put them to work.”

There’s a beat as they digest this information; then Wade starts fucking you twice as hard, lifting his leg up on the gearstick for leverage, and Logan pulls you mouth-first back into his cock. You make a pleased noise as they fill you, happy to let yourself go brainless for a moment as they use you however they want. There’s a warm feeling building in the pit of your stomach and you can feel an orgasm wanting to crescendo. 

Soon you hear Logan begin to breathe heavily, and you’re pretty sure he can’t be far. You make a show of looking up at him with your biggest, most fucked-out eyes. 

“Cum in my mouth,” you say, pulling back and sticking out your tongue as a target. He is powerless against that, spilling down your throat as you grin at the taste of him. 

“Oh fuck, you’re so fucking filthy, so fucking hot, holy shit, holy shit,” Wade breathes, thrusts getting erratic. Suddenly Logan is lifting you up by the shoulders, pushing you into Wade’s embrace.  

“Make her cum or I will,” he says, and you’ve never heard an orgasm be used as a threat before but fuck it does it for you. Wade’s hand scrabbles to your clit and it only takes a few desperate circles to have you coming all over his cock as he fills your cunt with his spend. Logan manages a boneless grin at the show. 

You collapse between them, and they support you. For a moment there is nothing but the sound of breathing and the smell of sex.

For a moment. 

“Are we a polycule now?” asks Wade. You roll your eyes fondly at him and slap his arm where it’s slinked around you. 

“Shut up,” you and Logan say in unison. 

“Okiedokie, guess we can address that if there’s a part two.”

taglist: @falsewordz @malfoys-demigod @belilwen @mildly-salted @tvwebs @childeslegstrap @getmeoutofhell @s1eep-o @just-a-beatlemaniac69 @yrthr @momopad @sugarplumz100 @captainjinkx @madspads @acrosstheunivcrse @yeethaw13 @na-is-salty @florduarte @hunterispunk @starfleetteddybear

[pastorpresent]

When Logan goes on a mission without Wade, Wade can distract himself with his silly cartoons and the dog and Al, and can function pretty much fine till Logan gets home. He might text him a few more times than necessary, but that's the extent of it.

Logan on the other hand? Absolutely zero fucking chill. Cannot Function. It's like mother hen mode but on crack. He can't sit still for longer than thirty seconds. Wears his suit the entire day, just incase he needs to go save Wade, which is ridiculous because as Wade had reminded him before he left- he's also fucking immortal.

Like seriously, this man becomes intolerable. Wade's phone crashes from the amount of texts and missed calls, and Logan just cannot do Anything all day. Even when Wade gets home (and honestly, the mission finished a good half hour before but he needed to ensure he was completely healed before he went home and Logan freaks the hell out over a paper cut) Logan is on him, stripping him off in their bedroom and checking him for any marks, growling in that way Wade finds sexy as hell, except there's nothing sexy about it right now because Logan looks on the verge of tears, his eyes tired and stressed, and Wade grabs his wrists mid-inspection and kisses his knuckles

"Logan, I'm fine. I'm completely okay."

And Logan nods stiffly but doesn't quite relax, so Wade redirects his hands back to their previous trail and let's him finish his inspection before he tugs him in for a hug.

(They agree to stop doing missions without each other. Logan won't ask, feels too selfish and controlling to do so, so Wade does. Pretends it's for his benefit, obviously. And Al's, which it actually is because when he'd gotten back she loudly proclaimed 'thank fuck! That bastard was going to wear a damn hole through the fucking floorboards!')

[loganhowlettshousewife]

i want everyone to know that i woke up at 2am and grabbed my phone and typed out the draft version of this, and then promptly fell back asleep. i literally could not remember a word of what i’d written when i woke up. anyway here’s the drabble that came to me in my dreams apparently.

-

logan falls for you, hard. and for once, he’s not afraid of it. he’s dangerous and always hurts those around him, directly or indirectly it doesn’t matter. he hates getting close to people just to watch them get hurt again and again, watch them start to resent him for the bloodshed that seems to follow wherever he goes.

but with you it’s different. you can heal, just like him. you get injured on a mission and the stab wound knits itself back together, the bullet hole closes. you don’t have a single scar on your body; someone who didn’t know any better would think you’d never been through any hardships.

he wakes from a nightmare, claws in your chest, and panics for a moment as he pulls them out, watching your shocked face. but your expression melts into a loving one in a moment, pain receding as quickly as it came, your hand reaching out to cup his face. 

“‘i’m okay,” you tell him, and it’s true. your pretty silk pajama top is ruined, but through the holes in the fabric he can see the smooth skin of your chest, unmarred. the blood remains, a reminder that he’s hurt you, but you just hold him tight until you fall back asleep. 

he watches you and wonders how he got so lucky, how there could be someone so perfectly suited for him. not just in your personality and appearance, because he’s fallen for many people in his two centuries of living, but someone he can’t ever hurt.

his biggest fear, suddenly made irrelevant.

the first time you have sex, you tell him to let go, not to worry, he can’t hurt you. the animal part of him yearns to claim you, violent and intense the way his nature wants him to be. and for once, he can.

he’s close, pounding into you harder, goaded on by your cries of his name. he leans down as if to kiss you but goes for your neck instead, canines sinking into the skin, breaking the surface and drawing blood. he pulls back, licking the blood off his lips, your blood, and that’s the final push you need. your orgasm hits you like a wave, and you clench around logan, who groans and thrusts into you one, two, three more times before coming.

it’s as he’s cleaning you up that he notices something strange. at first he’s confused, and then his stomach drops. you’re not healing. he wipes the remaining blood from your neck, as if when he moves the washcloth away it’ll be gone. it’s not.

you must see it on his face, because you giggle and say, ��i wanna keep it. want everyone to know i’m yours.”

and fuck, that does something to him. he’s possessive of those he cares about, but it’s usually treated as an inconvenience, an annoyance. but you love it, you revel in his possessiveness.

“how are you- it’s not healing?” he’s still confused, but secretly pleased. 

“logan,” you whisper, “you know my healing is different from yours, right? i have the power to heal myself and others. it’s not automatic like yours, i can control it.”

he didn’t know that, actually, but he’s glad. because it’s just one more thing about you that makes you perfect in his eyes, more than perfect in fact. you’re choosing not to heal the mark he left on you, claiming you as his. you’re accepting it, accepting logan even with all his flaws and detriments.

you never heal any of the marks that logan gives you. no, those you wear with pride.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Kinktober day 10, pain kink w/logan howlett.

kinktober masterlist

logan loved pain.

after he’s gone through so much in one life time, the thin lines between pain and pleasure began to blur, fusing into each other. It didn’t bother him anymore, and instead, turned him on.

This had dawned on you completely by accident, when you were watching him being scolded for having yet another cigar in the school. He scoffed, waiting for Scott to walk away before he pressed the butt of it into his skin, you furrowing an eyebrow at him when you walked into the kitchen, his mouth forming an “o” shape and letting out what sounded like a low moan as he put it out on the palm of his hand.

He glanced up at you, mouth closing and pretending as if nothing had just happened. You rummaged through the cabinets, giving him a smile and nod while watching his palm heal in seconds.

“Hey.” He spoke, rather flushed and embarrassed at the fact that his cock was now aching in his pants, covering his hard on with a beer bottle that he had stashed. He stared at you, and the way that your shorts rode up when you reached further into the cabinets….

Okay, yeah, you guys were fucking underneath the school roofs. But you couldn’t help it. He was hot. You’ve been plotting on him since the day you’ve seen him.

“Hi, lo.” You replied, finally grabbing what you were reaching for. Which was also a beer bottle. He snapped out of it when you went to sit on the counter, swinging your legs as you popped it open. He cleared his throat, the tension in the room getting harder to ignore.

Yeah, you ended that night being pushed up against the wall of his room, his door locking and him lightly pushing you down onto the bed, his hands and lips traveling your body, clothes now scattered across the room.

“So fucking pretty.” He murmured out against your skin, looking up at you from In between your thighs. He left a kiss on the inside of your thigh, before tearing off your panties with his teeth.

When logan ate you out, it was heavenly. He loved doing it, you loved it. It was a win-win. His tongue flicked over your clit, before poking and prodding at your entrance.

You let out a moan, your back arching off the bed and you tugging on his hair, experimentally. You haven’t done that before, but the reaction you got out of him….

He looked up at you for a moment, you immediately feeling bad and beginning to think that you did something wrong, opening your mouth to apologize before he cut your sentence off.

“Do that again.”

“Wh…what?”

“Do it again.” He repeated, before diving back into your pussy, you letting out a shudder and tugging on his hair, you listening to the low growls and grunts he made when you did so.

“Harder.” He murmured when he pulled away for a moment, looking up at you. You just nodded weakly.

Holy shit, holy shit. You wished you discovered his thing for pain earlier.

“Logan!” You cried out, his tongue working faster, sucking and licking your soaked hole, the grip he had on your thighs leaving deep little crescent shaped marks. You came on his gave, his tongue going back to licking it all up, you jerking lightly.

You stared up at the ceiling, eyes wide and breathing heavy. You looked at Logan who had quite literally come in his pants from that.

“So… this pain thing you have….” You started.

“Don’t.” He sighed out, grabbing a rag and cleaning your body and his own before grabbing a change of underwear and laying next to you.

“That’s like hot as hell.” You told him, staring at him.

He was the one to furrow his eyebrows now, letting a chuckle escape him.

“yeah?”

“oh yeah. I’m most definitely gonna use that to my advantage.”

“I wouldn’t mind that.” He shrugged, you smiling at him, before moving to cuddle up next to him, laying your head on his chest, his arms wrapping around you.

[darnell-la]

i’m actually so in love with your writing! Could i request Oldman!Logan x married reader having sex for the first time in forever bc he’s getting sick and age is showing in him and he isn’t healing but he wants to prove he can still keep up

note: Logan and his little emotional ass…

———

“Logan, what are you doing here? What happened!?” Y/n asked, worried after seeing his state. The man had bullet holes in him. He was bleeding and looked like he was close to passing out.

“Need you, bub,” Logan said, meaning it in so many different ways, but y/n only thought of one as she pulled him into her shared house.

Y/n dragged the man to her shared room and pulled him to the bathroom. “The fuck, Logan — I thought you were done with that shit,” y/n felt horrible seeing him like this.

He went down after she broke up with him because of his unemotional ways. He didn’t show emotion when she left the mansion, but people noticed the change in his mood.

Logan was always an asshole, but he had a soft spot for sweet people. After y/n left, he felt no need to be that man anymore.

“Just a little fight. Nothin’ serious, princess,” Logan said as y/n sat him on the toilet. “Logan, not right now, please,” Y/n said before she went into her closet to find things to help him.

Logan was confused for a second, wondering why she didn’t like the nickname until he remembered. He took a look at her hand and noticed the ring he prayed wasn’t real.

After hearing the news of her marriage, he couldn’t take it. He tried reaching out to her, but she was a ghost.

After finally finding her, he noticed how happy she looked. That was decades ago, and since then, he’s just kept his distance. Still watching her, but never approaching.

“You’re still with him, huh?” Logan asked, sounding heartbroken all over again. “Yes, I am, and he gets home tomorrow night, so I need you out of here quick,” y/n said, aching the man.

“Can’t stay until he gets here? Maybe meet the man or something?” Logan asked, making y/n sigh loudly as she finally found what she needed. “No, Logan — Me and you haven’t talked in years, so there’s no need,”

“We haven’t talked because of you,” the man said in a low voice. “Yeah, because-“ y/n cut herself off as she noticed her tone getting higher. She shouldn’t be upset anymore. They’re done.

“Just- Let’s get you cleaned up,” y/n walked back over to Logan. The two stayed quiet as she took his shirt off to see what she had to work with. “Fuckin’ hell, Logan,” y/n shooter her head.

Even though this wasn’t the man’s fault, he looked down with a sad look, disappointed that he got worse over the years, and never better for her to see and maybe want him back.

“He treats you good?” Logan asked, trying to get rid of the silence. It’s been too many years of silence. “Alright,” y/n said, answering drily because she felt embarrassed about her life.

“Why just alright? I see he buys you stuff- On social media — I-I have you on social media,” Logan saved himself after y/n gave him a confused look. Y/n sighed with a nod, not wanting to tell him or anyone why he gave her those gifts.

“What’s wrong, y/n?” Logan asked with a slightly serious face after noticing her body language. After all these years, Logan could tell when something was wrong.

“Please, just- Let’s get this done, okay?” Y/n said before using a pair of tweezers to pull one of the bullets out. “Fuck! Fuck- wait,” Logan softly grabbed the girl's wrists as he stood up. “I’ve got this part,”

Logan slowly walked over to the bathroom sink to lean on it, resting and taking deep breaths for what he was about to do.

Y/n was confused until the man began pushing out bullets with low groans, trying to hide the pain he was in.

Y/n placed a hand on his back, comforting him so he would mentally feel better about this all. She couldn’t look at him like this.

“Just a few stitches, okay?” Y/n rubbed the man’s back after he got all of the bullets out. “No, it’ll heal itself. Just need it cleaned,” the man said before sitting back down on the toilet, already missing her back touched.

y/n wanted to ask why he came here if he wouldn't help him stitch up, but she kept her mouth closed and didn't ask. He finally had a small reason to show up and be let in her house.

“Lo — Logan, you need it,” y/n slipped up by calling him by the nickname she gave the man. Logan looked up at the woman, eyes lighting up at her words, but face expression tired.

He was tired of life. He was tired of living without y/n. He was tired of being distant from y/n. He was tired of going home and having an empty bed while she came home to whoever the man was she married.

“I need you,” Logan said, making y/n scoff, feeling tears fill her eyes in an instant. “Logan, if you’re not gonna let me help you, then you have to leave,” she hated saying.

“C’mon, baby — Just take me back,” Logan on off of the toilet and stepped towards her. Y/n instantly turned around, not wanting to look at him. She can’t. She’s married now.

“C’mere,” Logan said softly as he hugged y/n from the back, leaning down to sniff her neck. “You still smell good,” he said under his breath as his hands rubbed her waist and stomach.

“Logan, I can’t,” y/n said, not pushing him off, but hoping he’d pull back. She couldn’t bring herself to push his old but missing scent away.

“C’mon, baby — If you couldn’t, then you would’ve pushed him off a while ago,” he said, and he was right. That’s when y/n turned around and placed her hands on his chest, pushing, but he grabbed them, keeping her hands on him.

“I’m sorry, y/n — I wasn’t good back then, but I am now. I’ll do anything to get you back. To get all of those years without you, back,” Logan’s hands softly grabbed her cheeks.

“I-I can’t, Logan — I have a husband, and he- He treats me right,” y/n lied, and he knew it instantly. All the years away from his girl, he still knew when she was lying and not doing well. Her slight body language change does not lie.

“You don’t have to lie to me, princess. If he doesn’t treat you right, I won’t laugh, judge or make you feel like shit,” Logan said as tears slipped past her eyelids.

“Hey, hey — Don’t cry, okay? This is my fault. You’re with him because I wasn’t man enough to deal with love. I was scared, and I let us get together knowing I should’ve ghosted you. I should’ve fuckin’ stopped it right then, but I didn’t because I love you, y/n,”

“I’m so stupid,” y/n buried her face in the man’s chest as she cried. Logan’s own tears slipped past his eyelids, hearing y/n cry like this after all of these years.

If only he had been a better man, a better boyfriend, she wouldn’t be like this. What has she been going through, through all these years? Anything negative was his fault. All of it.

“Baby, no, you’re not. I am. If I just did better, you’d be with me. We’d both be happier,” Logan pulled y/n’s face back as he wiped her tears. “Need you to stitch me up like you wanted. Take care of me, then I’ll take care of you. Till the day I die,”

Y/n isn’t invincible, but she does take a bit longer to die off. She’s nothing like Logan though, so getting together at this time, especially since his regenerating powers aren’t working well anymore, is perfect.

“Mhmkay,” y/n said low, feeling her heart grow for the man again. “Please stop crying, baby. Gonna make me feel bad,” Logan playfully pouted as he lifted her chin. “Good,” she giggled low.

“So good, baby. Always so fuckin’ good, baby,” Logan whispered in the girl's ear after slipping past her folds, filling her up until he had no more to give. She took him so well. Like they have not stopped being together.

“Oh my god, Logan,” y/n cried as she scratched his back, drawing a little blood. He almost forgot how strong she was. He never really paid attention. She was always his sweet little girl.

He cursed himself for being an asshole towards her. All he had to do was tell her when he felt down. All he had to do was ask for help. All he had to do was accept that it’s okay to not be okay. She would’ve been happy to help.

“Gonna keep you, baby. Gonna take you from your sad excuse of a husband,” Logan snapped his hips, shaking at the feeling of being someone he hadn’t been in for years. Since her, he hasn’t been with anyone. Not one soul.

“Ima treat you better, baby. Gonna show him how to be a man,” Logan didn’t know how the man was. He knew nothing about him, only the fake news he puts out on social media, but by the way, y/n was clenching around him and not calling her husband to get Logan out of their home, he knew the man was a dick.

“You’re gonna tell me everything about him, y/n. Don’t miss one detail. Gonna show him what happens when he makes my girl cry at the thought of him,”

Logan’s hands rubbed y/n’s cheek, watching her jaw go slack as his hips bucked up into his, chasing after her orgasm.

“That’s it, baby. Forgot about that rich prick. Knew he wasn’t no good,” Logan talked like he knew the man personally. Even if he wasn’t a bad person, Logan didn’t care. Y/n was his, and his only.

“Fuckin’ hell — Still squeezin’ me tight like back in the day, when you cum,” Logan reminded the woman as she came all over his cock. “So pretty when you did it too. Now you look better because we’re finally officially,”

Y/n was confused at first until he spoke. “You’re my wife. And I’m your husband. You’ve always been mine, and I’ll show you that. Gonna show you all the years you’ve missed out on me, baby,”

Logan smashed his lips onto y/n’s, hungrily kissing her as he pounded, making sure to fuck her into the mattress. He was old, and his body ached, but the adrenaline was still there. He wanted to fuck her for hours. Mark her for hours. He wanted to do everything with her for hours until her shitty husband came back to the sight of her taking his cock better than she could ever take her husbands.

“That’s it, baby — Gonna fill this little girl up like I should’ve done years ago. Trap you with me and never let you go,” Logan’s hands found hers and locked. He pinned them beside her head and leaned into her neck, sucking as he groan.

The man couldn’t help himself, sniffing and growling into the girl's neck as he spilled into her, hard. Cumming so deep, she swore she felt it swirl in her stomach.

“F-Fuck,” y/n cried low, feeling complete. The feeling of him in her, marking her, and telling her she was his, made her heart grow. Fuck her husband. She couldn’t wait until he came home to the sight of Logan claiming her.

[xoxoavenger]

Can I request wolverine x reader where both of them were madly in love with each other, but reader was unfortunately by one of the sentanails (mutant killing robots), absolutely wreaking him. Then, he went back in time and when he gets to the mansion, and meets past reader (let’s say she also have longevity like Logan) who doesn’t know him at this point and taken of guard. When he’s trying to convince Charles that he’s from the future and needs his help and Charles is being stubborn and gets a little heated, reader is trying to calm things down and try to get everyone on the same page

so sorry this took literally forever. it was partly bc of how busy I was and partly bc I was afraid to write it, having such a popular dofp fic already (literally my fic with the most notes 😅)

Missing

pairing: Logan x Fem!Reader

word count: 2719

warnings: major character death (in the request but just in case), cannon typical violence and talk of violence

masterlist

Logan should have known this was coming.

His luck is shit. It always has been. For a hundred years now, he's felt like everything he touches goes to shit.

And then met Y/N.

She she wasn't shit. She was kind, smooth where he was rough, fitting him in all the right places. He was scared for awhile, afraid that it was too good to be true - her mutant ability being the projection of light. This power, the power of light, caused her to age slower. Charles had tried to explain it, multiple times in fact, but Logan was so lost every time that he just gave up eventually on trying to understand. All he knew was she aged slowly, just like he did, which means they could be together without him having the ever-present fear of watching her grow old.

He just never expected her to die.

He had known this was always a risk. She knew it too. And he also knew that they could have lived together, pretending like they weren't mutants, hoping from town to town, but she would never allow that. Him? He would have ran to that in a heartbeat, because he was selfish enough to want her to himself. To want to live, for the first time in two hundred years. He tried to fool himself, but how could he ever forget that he would always survive, while she simply didn't age as fast.

And that's how he should have known that everything was about to go downhill.

It happened in slow motion. But even then, it was 'unpreventable', as Charles would say. Logan knew the truth, though. It should have been him. He should have been the one to be hit with the laser. He should have been the one to have the hole inside him.

"No!" He screamed, running to her and sheathing his claws. He slides to catch her before she falls, but she's already dead in his arms. Her eyes are wide open, mouth paused in shock. Her body is limp, neck snapped back. And there's the four inch hole in her stomach, which he can see right through.

But he can't help but scream for her, calling her name. He shakes her, as if she's just asleep. As if he can fix this.

"Y/N," He cries softly, not moving as he's being pulled back. Suddenly he realizes his whole team is around him, trying to move him away from of his love. From his dead love. They're all screaming at him, and he knows that he's putting everyone in danger. But he can't let go of her. He can't bring himself to move. He closes his eyes, and then he lets out a guttural scream.

The next thing he remembers is being in a shelter, back against a wall and knees pulled against his chest. He blinks, realizing that he has no idea what happened after Y/N -

He doesn't want to think about that.

Everyone is under the shelter, talking and bandaging each other up. Logan wishes he couldn't heal, wishes he still had the marks on his body. But instead, he's left with just blood and and an empty chest.

"I can't send someone back that far. It would kill them." Kitty says, and hey, dying sounds exactly like what Logan wants right now.

"Send me." He speaks up, causing everyone to stop talking and turn to him.

"Your healing factor would help. As long as Kitty can keep you in the past that long." Charles says, and Logan remembers that his healing factor will keep him from dying. He thinks maybe he just hasn't tried hard enough to die. He's never wanted to more than he does right now.

"I can try." Kitty says with a nod. They all seem to know that if they don't do this, there is no future. They do this, or the Sentinels kill them all. They're at the end of the line. So they explain the plan, how Logan needs to get Charles and Erik on speaking terms again and stop the government from getting Mystic's blood. They think this will do the trick, that they may not be able to stop the downfall but they can stop the Sentinels. Logan realizes, then, that if he does this and it actually works, Y/N doesn't die. It reinvigorates him, starting his heart again.

They get into position, Logan laying on the makeshift table with conflicting emotions. He's mourning his lover, but he has some hope at least. He feels Kitty's hands by his head and before he knows it he's screaming, but it's not too long before he's in a bed, the bright sun beating down on him. He's with a girl - not Y/N, he didn't meet her until he met Charles, unfortunately - and he feels a little gross for it.

He gets into a fight immediately, and when his claws come out he realizes he doesn't have the metal that usually protects him. Shit. This stupid mission just keeps getting better and better. He gets shot, always a fun time, then starts the fight, just wanting to get it over with. He forgot how sensitive his stupid regular claws are, and he's tired of it by the time he makes it through the three guys. Now he needs to go to the mansion, which he has no idea what to find there.

~

He knocks on the door, sunglasses still on. It looks different, and not just because of the time, so he waits outside for a couple seconds for someone to answer the door. He can't even hear any kids running around, which is weird. He's so focused on this, he barely realizes someone answering the door.

"Hello, sir. We're closed, unfortunately, but I can give you directions to the nearest gas pump." She says with a smile. She's got a yellow shirt and jeans on, and Logan is pretty sure he doesn't know how to speak.

"Y/N?" He gets out, eyes clouding with tears. She looks taken aback, which shakes him up a little. He forgot that she wouldn't know who he was, of course.

"How do you know my name?" She asks, trying not to sound too skeptical. Her skin is glowing slightly, and Logan pulls his sunglasses off. It's all he can do not to cry,

"You're not gonna believe me." He chuckles, instantly feeling more at ease. How could he have forgotten that she would be here? He's never been more grateful for anything ever.

"Try me." She says, crossing her arms. He smirks and makes his way past her and into the mansion. "Hey! I didn't say you could come in!" She yells, and he looks around and his home, glad to see it standing.

"Where's the professor?" He asks, knowing it'd be easier to speak to Charles, who could read his mind.

"There is no professor. You must have the wrong place." Hank says as he walks down the stairs. Y/N turns and has a panicked look on her face, and Logan knows he needs to smooth this over.

"Listen, if you just let me talk to him, he'll know who I am. You won't believe me if I just tell you." He repeats, and Hank looks at Y/N before looking back at Logan, his face set.

"Like I said, there is no professor here. I think you should leave." Hank walks to be in front of Y/N, who looks conflicted.

"Who are you?" She asks, and Logan's heart skips a beat as he realizes that she's sticking up for him. She always said it was love at first sight, and maybe this is proof.

"I'm Logan." He says, and then he thinks about if he's actually going to tell them the next part. "And I'm from the future."

"Are you, now?" Charles is at the top of the stairs, and Logan startles when he sees that his friend doesn't have a wheelchair.

"Your legs," Logan starts, not sure what to say. He's caught off guard by a lot right now.

"Perceptive." Charlies says with a smirk as he walks down the stairs. Logan turns to Y/N, whose brows are furrowed.

"How did you know my name?" Y/N is still stuck on it, but it's almost like she's looking through him. She knows something is up.

"I'm from the future." He says, and the rest of the mutants in the room just stare at him. He looks at Charles, who is smirking. "You can read my mind. You know I'm telling the truth." At this, Charles' smile drops and his eyes squint.

"You have the wrong guy." His voice is low, and Logan shakes his head.

"No," Logan says, and Y/N tilts her head. It sounds crazy, someone from the future, but why would he lie? "I know who you are, Charles Xavier. So, read my mind, tell everyone I'm telling the truth, and can get on with what I came here to do." The room is silent as Logan and Charles stare at each other.

"I'm not that man anymore." Charles insists. Y/N knows he's not going to help, but she needs to know what this guy's deal is.

"What exactly is it you came here to do?" She asks, drawing his attention. He stares at her for a moment, making her a little concerned, but he looks lost and hurt, so she feels bad for him.

"In the future," Logan starts to get choked up, not able to look at any of them. He clears his throat, then continues. "The government was able to get Raven's blood. Because of you and Erik's feud. And they make these killers, called Sententials. Mutant killers." He can't look at them. Something happened, something bad. Clearly, if they're mutant killers, but this seems to be cutting Logan deep.

"How far in the future?" She asks, and it unsettles Logan. It's almost as if she knows, as if she's asking how long she has. He tries to remind himself that if he succeeds, she'll be okay. But will they still bet together if he changes the future? He has to hope. It's better for her to be alive, even if they aren't together. Everyone will be saved.

"Far." He answers, because he doesn't know how to tell her it's 50 years, doesn't want them to worry if they can't figure this out.

"How is this Erik and I's fault?" Charles asks, starting to get worked up. "If anything, it's solely his. I had nothing to do with this." He starts to leave, and Logan doesn't know what to do.

"You and Erik sent me from the future." Logan answers, causing everyone to pause. "You sent me because you need to work together."

"You're lying." Charles accuses.

"Well if you had your powers, you would know I'm not." Logan is starting to get worked up. This is harder than he thought it would be.

"I think you need to leave." Hank says, stepping forward. Y/N surprises them all by stepping forward as well.

"I think he's telling the truth." Y/N says, her gaze finally moving from Logan to Hank. "I think we should listen to him."

"Raven will die." Logan says, looking at Charles. "She's going to be experimented on and die. You can prevent this." Logan tries, hoping this will work. Charles glares at him, clearly not convinced.

"What about you?" Charles asks, lifting his chin. "What do you lose?"

"Did you miss the whole part about the mutant-killing machines?" Logan scoffs. Unbelievable, this young version of Charles. He'll take the old guy any day.

"No, no, no." Charles walks toward him, vacant look in his eyes somewhat clearing. "I may not be able to read minds anymore, but I know that you're in it for more than that."

"That's my business." Logan resists looking at Y/N, instead staring Charles down.

"And this is mine." Charles huffs. "I asked for your help years ago, and you told me to fuck off. I don't know what happens in the future, if you're telling the truth or not, but I do know that Erik will not be the one to stop it." He turns, and Logan knows he's losing him. He sighs, looking away from the small group.

"I lost Y/N." He says quietly. Somehow, the room goes even more silent as everyone stares at him.

"What?" She asks, barely able to breathe. He looks at her, face full of emotions she doesn't know how to decipher. She just met this man, but clearly he has known her for years.

"I found the school in 2000. You and Charles ran it, and I only stayed because of you. In my timeline, in 2023," He chokes up as the images of her flash through his mind. He wants to erase it, but it's there every time he closes his eyes. "The Sententials kill you. And they're going to kill all of us in the future, if you don't get your head out of your ass and make up with your boyfriend." Logan snaps the last part at Charles, who starts to get angry.

"Listen here-"

"Charles," Y/N starts, hand on his arm to stop him from walking even closer to Logan. She's glowing softly, emitting a calm, soothing light that even Logan can't help but admit makes his pulse slow. "Logan is giving us a chance to change the future. To save Raven."

"You're just saying that because you die." Charles lashes out, and that's how Logan knows he's not okay. He would never do that to her.

"We're all going to die!" Y/N yells. "Are you listening to him? You're probably dying in his timeline as we speak." She looks over to Logan, who is staring like she is the only person in the room.

"This is Erik's fault." Charles says, as if that made a difference.

"And it's going to be your fault if you don't listen to him." She softly speaks, and finally Charles sighs. Logan is grateful for Y/N; who knows how he would have convinced Charles without her.

"What do we have to do?"

~ When Logan wakes up, he's disoriented. The last thing he remembers he was being in the river, a rebar stuck through him and his brain shutting down from lack of oxygen. He can hear people outside his room, but what gets him to actually leave is the laugh that rings out through the hallway.

He sees her as soon as he opens his door, her smiling brighter than the sun. His heart pounds as he wonders if they're together - they didn't exactly get together in 1973, but she had helped him and believed in him when literally no one else had.

"Hey, baby," Y/N says when she catches his eyes, and he can't help the sound that escapes him. Her eyebrows raise as she realizes something is different. "What's going on?" She asks, leaving the group of people - mutants, kids, that had died, but are now here.

"Am I dead?" He asks, head reeling. She tilted her head with a small smile.

"What?" She asks, grabbing onto his arms gently. He doesn't have the same self control, however, and pulls her in. She sighs, and seems to understand. "You just got back."

"I thought I lost you." He admits, pulling back. "I at least thought we weren't going to be together." It's a hard thing for him to say out loud, but she just pulls him in for a kiss.

"James," She whispers as they pull apart, and he feels like no one has called him that in so long. She is the only one who is allowed to, the only one who won't get their throat ripped out for even thinking of uttering his real name. "There is nothing you could do to keep me away." She kisses him softly again, and he tries not to let the tears fall.

"I love you." He tells her, resting his forehead against hers.

"I love you too." She responds, giving one last peck before pulling back. "Now, I'm sure a lot has changed, so how about I catch you up on the last fifty years as we take a walk." She grabs his hand, and Logan swears he's never been happier.

//

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler

[jammydodger3579]

Pomegranate Heart

Summary: Logan and the reader have trouble with Wade interfering during their alone time. (slight continuation of this fic)

A/N: this one got away on me... please don't judge... also I love the idea of the reader having certain cravings because of her mutation so that's what lead to this fic...

Masterlist here.

18+ for mature audiances only

1100+ word count.

Warnings: smut, oral masc!receiving, cannibalism, blood.

Living next door to her boyfriend would’ve been much nicer if her boyfriend wasn’t living with Wade. He made it a challenge to inconvenience the two of them as often as possible. At first, it was a simple prank: Wade swapped the chocolate sauce for sticky soy sauce, hoping that Logan would pour it on his ice cream. Wade just didn’t expect Logan to pour the sauce on Y/N during their “alone time”. That was very awkward to explain. Then Wade made it a challenge to get his pranks to interfere with their sex life. Wade would play his favourite boyband music super loud whenever he heard Logan and Y/N going at it, hoping that the music would put them out of the mood. Even going as far as hiding a speaker in her apartment so that he could really annoy them. The two eventually started waiting for Wade to fall asleep before they would sneak off. 

Y/N was watching a movie at the guys' apartment when Logan nudged her to look at Wade. The poor man was sleeping through his favourite part of the movie. Y/N made eye contact with Logan before looking at the door, hinting they should leave. Logan nodded, slowly getting up from the couch. She followed suit, sneaking out of Wade’s apartment. The two laughed at the idea of sneaking away just to make out. Logan immediately pinned Y/N against her apartment door, peppering her face with kisses. She smiled, opening the door and pulling Logan inside. They went to the bedroom, trying to be quiet as the apartment walls were super thin. Logan laid down on the bed, pulling Y/N onto his lap. She smiled, kissing Logan deeply as she unbuttoned his shirt. She opened his shirt, bearing his chest to the room. She pulled away from Logan before licking her lips with her long tongue, and then licking down his chest before stopping at his belt. They held eye contact as Y/N removed Logan's pants, licking down his shaft. He shivered at the contact, enjoying how she works her tongue. 

“N-need,” He moaned, bucking his hips towards her. 

“I wanna take my time with you” she purred, a mischievous grin on her face. Logan brought his hands to his head, moaning in pleasure as she used her tongue to jack him off slowly. She loved to watch him squirm under her touch. He moved his hips in sync with her, grinding against her tongue. He was getting impatient, wanting his release already. She could tell, his cock twitching in her grip. She stopped the slow movements of her tongue and stood up to look at the shocked look on Logan's face. She smiled, slipping out of her pants before straddling Logan, teasing her entrance with his cock.

“I’m so close to taking you myself, princess” he growled, his patience wearing thin. She smiled, taking him inside. She started slow, eager to see if Logan would take control. 

“I could just eat you up,” she said, grinding painfully slow. 

“Do it princess and see what happens” She smiled wide, bearing her teeth. She leaned down, licking his chest before sinking her teeth in. Logan's blood filled her mouth, that metallic taste she craved making her moan. Logan groaned, pain and pleasure mixing together. She ripped her teeth away from his chest, blood going everywhere, and chewed on the chunk of “meat” she got. Logan’s healing factor worked quickly, healing up the gaping hole left by Y/N’s teeth. She smiled, blood dripping down her chin. Her long tongue came out and cleaned the mess. Logan was still on the brink of coming, her movements edging him along ever so slowly. He grabbed a hold of her hips and started moving her to a more enjoyable speed.

“Did I say we could go faster?” She said in a low voice, grinning that evil grin. She brought her mouth to his ear. “Do you need to be punished?” she bit his earlobe, tearing it off. Logan kept moving her, bucking his hips up into her. She licked at the blood spilling from his ear until it healed over. Logan was getting close, she could feel it. She reached a hand down to her cunt, rubbing circles around her clit. Logan admired the view, his beautiful girlfriend, blood running down her chest over her perfect tits, pleasure filling her face. They became one, moving in sync, Y/N no longer caring about the speed Logan made her go. She was getting close, her pussy clenching around him. “I n-need you to take over,” she said through moans. Logan smiled.

“Thank god,” he said, turning her over and slamming her into the bed. He had a firm grip on her hips, roughly thrusting into her. She held eye contact with him, her hands now up by her face. She rubbed the blood off her chest and licked her fingers, moaning at the taste once again. That tipped her over the edge. Screaming Logan’s name, she came underneath him. Pleasure rolled over her body in waves, each thrust adding to her orgasm. Watching her unravel made Logan cum, filling her deep inside with one last thrust. By reflex, his claws came out, tearing a hole in the bed just inches away from Y/N’s face. She smiled. They stared at each other, watching as they came down from their highs. Breathing heavily, Logan pulled out and removed his claws from the bed. He laid down next to his girlfriend, pulling her into his arms. “Never have I ever had someone eat me during sex” he breathed out. She smiled.

“There’s a first for everything” 

“You ate him!?” Wade was standing in the door frame, staring at the two on the bed. Y/N immediately pulled the blood-soaked blanket over her and Logan. She smiled, blushing at being caught. Logan stared daggers at Wade. 

“I’m going to get you if you don’t leave right now” he growled, his claws slowly extending from his knuckles. Wade put his hands up in defence.

“Hey, I’m not judging, everyone has their kinks,” he said before leaving. Y/N looked at Logan and laughed. 

“He’s never gonna let us live this down now, is he?”

“No, he won’t,” Logan said. Y/N brushed her hand over the hole in her bed. “I’ll buy you a new bed sweetheart, don’t worry… new sheets too” 

“We’ll only ruin it again,” she said. She sat up and stretched her hands over her head. “I’m going to shower… join me?” Logan nodded, getting up from the bed.

[honey-on-your-tongue]

FWB

Part one

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Series masterlist

You first met Logan when he showed up at the X mansion, angry and distant and cold. You shrugged it off, every mutant had their own story and you respected that.

You could tell he was afraid to open up at first, particularly around you because you were always so curious about his ability. It fascinated you that he could heal just like that.

You could mend tissue or tear it apart on your body or anyone else's, and it took an extraordinary amount of energy. His body did it automatically and in a matter of seconds.

He didn't appreciate your enthusiasm. But eventually, you two warmed up to one another. And you might've even considered each other friends.

It started because...well...Logan is a complicated man. Very complicated. He's very picky about who he lets get close to him, and even then he remains reserved.

But Jean had been in his heart since day one. You never knew why, he refused to talk about her to anyone.

And then she died. And then she wasn't dead. And then he had to kill her.

He wasn't okay for a long while. He didn't even hit on every pretty woman he saw, as was usual.

And one day he just...snapped.

-

Logan's pent up. Jean's death is a weight on his shoulders he can't shake. And because of that, he can't focus. So he isn't working well, he isn't functioning. So his solution is to jack off, let go of some steam. But it doesn't work. He can't come on his own, no matter how hard he tries. No matter what porn he watches.

Then this one time, this funny thing happened? He was jerking off in his room—trying to, at least—and he heard your voice. You were walking down the hall, talking to someone.

“...so good,” you were saying, probably to a student about how they'd done in an exam.

For some reason, he imagined you on all fours on the bed, back arched, hands holding onto the bed sheets for life as he pounded you from behind.

He could imagine your voice crying out, “So good! So good!”

And suddenly—

His cock twitched, a groan left his lips and before he knew what was happening, he was coming all over himself. Thick spurts of his load spilled onto his hand, dripped down his cock, sticky and warm.

He gasped for breath, unable to understand what had just happened. So quick, so easy. And all because he just imagined you...

He shakes his head. That's wrong. You're his friend. You two work together and he doesn't wanna fuck that up.

So he pushes the thought away and pretends it never happened.

But later that day, when he runs into you in the kitchen, he's embarrassed, ashamed, maybe even a little guilty. You don't seem to notice as you just greet him and go about whatever you were doing.

He can't keep his eyes off you, can't look away. And the next thing he knows, you're bending over to grab a plate from one of the lower kitchen drawers and his cock springs to attention.

He clenches his jaw as he feels himself hardening, his mind already conjuring up images of you bent over his bed, that pretty ass of yours bouncing as he fucks you from behind. Your pussy all wet and spread out for him. Your hands grabbing onto the bed sheets like your life depends on it...

“Lo?” you ask, and he's snapped out of his thoughts.

“Hm?” he grunts, trying as discreetly as he can to take a step towards the counter and hide his growing erection from you.

“I asked if you want anything? I'm gonna go to the store, buy some ice cream for some of the kids.”

A few condoms and lube would work, he thinks to himself. Before remembering you can hear other people's thoughts when it's something they mean to say but don't.

You raise your eyebrows. “Oh. Um. Okay.” You nod, pretty cheeks blushing slightly. “I'll...Yeah. Alright. Any...particular ones?”

He feels like crawling into a hole and dying, but it's too late now. “No,” he replies, shaking his head. “Just...I need some extra large ones, though.”

Your blush deepens and you glance away, clearing your throat. “Right. Okay. I'll...be back soon.”

He nods curtly and watches you walk away. Once you're out of sight, he grabs his head in his hands.

“Fuckin' idiot,” he murmurs, his appetite lost, and he turns around to go back to his room.

The thing is, his cock is still hard and it's getting extremely uncomfortable. And he's leaking precum onto his pants.

He groans as he closes the door, in too much of a hurry as he kicks his pants off, his cock hard, the tip a dark red.

He lays down on his bed, spits on his hand. He fists his cock and jerks it a few times slowly, before closing his eyes and imagining some girl's pussy.

But it doesn't work. Fuck, it doesn't work. He thinks of all the random women he's fucked, all his hookups, and nothing. Absolutely nothing. His cock is still hard, his hand is getting tired.

And then you pop into his head. Cute eyes, soft lips, that gorgeous body.

He knows it's wrong, but he just can't help it. So, he jerks off to the thought of you. Those pretty lips around his cock, your hands holding onto his arms as he fucks you hard. Your face all scrunched up in pleasure...

He doesn't realize he's moaning your name, gasping and groaning like a fucking dog until the door swings open.

“You called? I was just about to leave—”

His eyes snap open, his hand on his cock freezes. He glances at the door and meets your gaze just before your eyes fall on his cock.

“Oh,” you say, voice trembling a little. “'m sorry, I...I thought...I could've sworn you said my name—I mean, I thought you were calling me...”

“I was,” he says stupidly, breathless, too stunned to even cover himself up.

You swallow thickly, eyes darting nervously around the room. When your gaze meets his, he thinks, for what it's worth, I was thinking of you.

Your eyes widen and you blush even more, a strangled, nervous sound leaving your mouth. “I-I gotta go to the store. The kids are waiting for their ice cream. Um...Bye,” you stutter out and leave, shutting the door after yourself.

He lays back on his bed, covering his face with one hand. “Fuck,” he groans. Now he's going to have to talk to you and that can't possibly end well.

---

Blog masterlist

Taglist

@nerrivm @rosiahills22 @d3vils-adv0c8 @thychuvaluswife @18lkpeters @daddy333 @e-nonsense @ch3rryblossms @ayamenimthiriel @thesecretlifeofmo @simming4sims @raideaters-blog @1cam8 @angelicbbsblog

[pedrosbish]

Logan f*cking Howlett

pairing: (old!man) Logan x reader

outline: you somehow get roped into looking after Charles and end up falling in love with the grumpy man who you barely see around

warnings: very brief descriptions of smut, swearing, angst

He found you standing by the beat up gas station, a pathetic cardboard sign advertising for any job people were willing to offer.

You looked young, a pretty thing still full of life but your eyes didn't have that glint in them anymore, something that Logan recognised all too well after spending so long staring at what he had become over the years.

He was getting old - could feel it in the way his bones cracked when getting up, the wrinkles on his face spreading out and crinkling whenever he showed any other facial expression, and how his healing isn't how it used to be.

"I'm not a prostitute." Your voice snaps him out of it and he realises that he must've been staring at you for quite a bit now. "So you can fuck off to your buddies over there if that's what your after."

He glances over his shoulder at the group of men, crowding around a pickup truck, eyes ogling you and whistles reaching across the parking lot.

"I'm not-" He sighs, eyes closing for a split second before he turns back to you. "Are you good with old people?"

He had taken you to the middle of nowhere, surrounded by dirt and train tracks and for a split second you had a moment of panic surge through you. What if he was a serial killer? He had the blood on him already for that role, red spots dotted all over his fancy white shirt and on his knuckles as he gripped the steering wheel.

But then he had stopped in front of an old decrepit building and a calming presence had suddenly clouded around you. Logan had led you around the back to a decommissioned water tank, littered with thousands of tiny holes.

Eyeing him wearily as he opened the hatch, he stood to the side as you walked past him, eyes falling to an old man sitting in a wheel chair before a chess table.

"Good evening." The old man's voice echoed around the large space. "Do you like chess?"

Wake him up at 8 every morning with breakfast and two tablets. Bathroom, wash him up, chess. Lunch then nap, followed by dinner with two more tablets and sleep.

It was an easy job, although a little too boring for your liking sometimes. Logan had stressed on the tablets everyday before leaving to go and work for the night, making you weary of what you were actually giving the old man.

You cleaned every day, the dirt and dust from outside always finding its way inside. The TV worked but only occasionally when you hit the specific spot on the back. You read a lot, either by yourself or to Charles.

"Such a soothing voice." He had murmured after you had tucked him in, eyes drooping closed. You had been looking after him for 4 months by that point and had placed a gentle kiss to his forehead for the first time, missing the small smile on his face as you left the tank.

Logan was still an enigma to you, his time mostly spent either working or sleeping. He usually came back once you had gone to bed, too anxious to actually fall asleep until his return. You usually peeked your head around the open door to see if he needed patching up, blood covering his bruised knuckles and red staining his shirt.

This was a common occurrence, one that made you feel nervous. Who had he been fighting that night? Why did your heart always flutter when you had to stand between his legs to stitch up a wound that would heal up entirely after a couple of days?

The first time you kissed him, he had pushed you away, hands a little rougher than either of you were expecting. Silent cusses had poured from his mouth as he stood up from the chair, stumbling off to his room where the door slammed loudly behind him.

That ache in your chest when you looked at him that night was growing ever so slowly into a large cavity that only he could fill.

By the time you woke up the next morning, he had already left for the day - to pick up Charles' medication, supplies, to work and to do whatever else gave him those wounds. Ignoring that ache in your heart, you had tried to go about your day, Charles' gaze holding a certain sorrow that made the lump in your throat harder to swallow around.

He hadn't come back for dinner, your own food having grown cold as you waited for him. After covering it up and putting it in a place where he would be able to see it, you had gone to bed, drifting away uneasily.

The sound of your door opening woke you, and you watched as the light from the next room poured in, casting the shadow of Logan onto your wall. Turning around slowly, you looked at him standing in your doorway, an almost nervous look on his face.

"I, uh," he winces, hand clutching at the red patch slowly staining his shirt. "Need your help again."

You were quiet, which made in all honesty Logan nervous as he looked up at you, your gaze locked onto stitching his stab wound back up. Usually he could never get you to shut up.

Throwing away the cloth which you had used to wipe away the rest of the blood, you turned your back without a word, ready to go back to your bed. Without thinking, Logan had grabbed onto your wrist, standing up and looming over you.

It was difficult to look at nothing but him. Even though he was old, Logan was still possibly the most handsome man you had ever seen. Watching silently, you waited for him to say something, to say anything.

"Fuck it." He murmurs under his breath, the hand on your wrist tugging you forward so that he can crash his lips to yours.

It's not a loving touch. His hands are rough and hard against your skin, desperation coursing through him as he takes you right there on the kitchen table, shorts tugged down to your ankles and shirt hanging low enough for him to stare at your chest.

He collapses against you, a low groan reverberating through his chest. In this moment of intimacy, you allow your fingers to gently scrape against his scalp and you smile at how he melts against you.

He silently lifts you, placing you gently down onto his bed where he climbs in after you, hand dangling around your waist as he places a quick kiss to the back of your shoulder.

Your heart soars, a giddy smile spreading across your lips, so much that your cheeks ache. He's warm, snuggling back into him in the cold air of the old building, your hand tangling with his own as your eyes droop.

Wake him up at 8 every morning with breakfast and two tablets. Bathroom, wash him up, chess. Lunch then nap, followed by dinner with two more tablets and sleep. Make dinner, patch up and fuck Logan.

It always hurt after. He treated you as if you didn't exist or that you were simply not there the following morning. He usually left for work before you were awake but on the rare occasion where he didn't need to leave in the morning, his replies mainly consisted of grunts.

For now, Logan seeking you out for relief was enough. But in those rare moments of intimacy following after sex, you could almost picture a different life for you two. One where he wouldn't return from work with holes and blood covering his shirt, or the energy being sucked out from him to the point where he was almost losing himself and who he used to be.

After a particularly gruelling day with Charles, one where it had taken him a lot longer to remember who you were and where he was, you decided to talk to Logan properly. You needed more from him.

This night, he hadn't gotten into trouble and returned with no blood on him or his shirt. It was a small victory for the both of you at least.

He had snuck up behind you as you were washing the dinner plates, hand snaking its way down from your stomach to between your legs. It was easy to forget that you were meant to simply talk to him, to ask him what you were to him when his touch could be so distracting.

Laying down next to him that night, your hand on his chest which was beginning to slow, you had quietly murmured your question into the dark.

He had tensed up immediately, shifting away and sitting up, legs swinging over the side of the bed.

"Please, Logan." It's almost embarrassing at the way your voice cracks, wet tears pouring over your cheeks. "I-I love you."

"Don't fuckin' say that." His voice is sad, head hung low in his hands as he hears you move from your side of the bed, sitting beside him. "You think you do but you don't."

That ache in your heart burns with intensity at the way his voice sounds, almost as if he feels bad for you.

"I'm pretty sure I know how I feel, Logan." Your hand reaches out, gently moving his hand from his face. "What are you so scared of? Why can't you believe that I love you?"

"I'm not talkin' about this."

He shoots up, slipping his clothes and boots on and stalking towards the front door. You follow behind him, trying to match his stride as you call after him, voice cracking as you watch him grab his keys.

The sun is just rising beyond the horizon, painting the sky a beautiful hue of pink and orange. His car engine starts up just as you step outside, the dirt staining your feet as you watch him speed away.

You may not have known Logan that well or for that long but you did know some things about him. He was scared of caring for people again, having lost so many throughout the years. He thought that he was incapable of being loved, his years of ageing souring his thoughts of himself.

You knew that he cared for you, in whatever capacity and way he was capable of. And you hoped that he would come back to you and accept that he was worthy of your love.

But he was just a man.

_______________________________________

a/n: hey...so it's been awhile since I've posted any of my own work (and by awhile I mean 3 years oop) but thankfully seeing Hugh Jackman has gotten me sitting up again. I don't know if that means I'll be back but have a crumb for now...

[i-wanna-write]

If One’s Different, One’s Bound to be Lonely - Wolverine Fic

Fic Synopsis: We know Wolverine and Sabertooth but the reader is known as Jackal. Just like the other two, their mutation is animalistic, lending them healing factors, enhanced physical abilities, and animal senses. This fic details their relationship with the Anchor!Wolverine and how they ended up meeting the Worst!Logan

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Chapter Warning: mentions of violence, cussing, dirty talk, SMUT! Minors DNI!

Word Count: 4k+

A/N: Excited to post this one!!!

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You think about your last run in with James often. It always leaves you blushing, thinking of his lips on your own. The feel of his chest underneath your fingers. You haven’t seen him in six months since he saved your life but you think about your kiss weekly. Specifically at night after a bottle of wine. Or in the shower when you’re feeling specifically stressed.

You fantasize about his lips leaving your own to find that spot on your neck. You think about them traveling down your neck, to each of your breasts. Down your stomach to where you want him most.

You fantasize about how he would feel above you, his larger body covering your own. What he would feel like when he was inside of you, your claws elongated and trailing down his back. You wonder what his face would look like when he cums, if his own claws elongated and shredded the nearest object.

A month ago you found a secluded cabin in North Dakota and moved in with your now small library. You have about twenty seven books and went to the nearest town to stock up on the necessities: eggs, bread, booze. You’re now prepared to hunker down and spend the winter alone and secluded, just how you liked it.

Only fate had other plans.

You are seated in front of the fire place, a fire cracking and alighting the living room. Your favorite book back in hand, nursing a whiskey as you continued to annotate it for the umpteeth time. You nursed a whiskey as you found more lines that you liked and spoke to you.

Brave New World by Aldous Huxley was a book you found yourself reading so many times. Its theme and message resonated with you as you felt like the main character Marx. Being a mutant, you were born for rejection and as your years on Earth increased, so did the hate your kind received. Yet you believed it was due to those who were simply conditioned to believe so.

You take another sip of your whiskey, allowing it to burn down your throat when you hear a thump from outside your front door. Your ears listened as the wind traveled through the air and took a breath in through your nose to determine if someone was near the cabin.

That's when you smelt blood.

You place your book on the coffee table and rise, quickly growing your claws. You tried to scent who or what it was but could only smell the blood. You quietly made your way to the front door before breathing again.

A familiar scent hit you.

You opened your door and it revealed James, body slumped on the porch and unconscious. He was dressed in only jeans and a tank top as if he wasn’t expecting to venture into the snow. His shirt was torn, holes littering it and dried blood showing. Your eyes trailed his handsome face and noted dried blood there as well. His usually kept hair was wild and out of place, also full of blood.

What you didn’t expect to see though, was his claws. Or rather what was left of them. They were somehow still sheathed, but instead of standing at their usually long 12 inches, they appeared to be cut down - only about 5 inches remaining.

A gasp left you and you immediately knelt down, feeling for his pulse. It was steady and strong beneath your fingers, a gracious sign that despite this horrific injury, it wouldn’t kill him

Not knowing how he got here or where he came from, you reached down and lifted him up, your enhanced strength easily allowing you to do so. You closed the door with your foot behind you and brought him to your couch, laying him down.

The man still did not stir with being moved so you sighed, assuming he’d heal and wake up eventually. So you grabbed your discarded book and drink, curling up in your usually vacant chair and resumed your annotation.

Five minutes later a popping sound is heard and you look up to see bullets spilling out of James chest. A total of seven pop out and fall to the ground with a crash. You watch amazed, having never seen another heal the exact same way as you.

Despite the bullets leaving, his healing seeming to kick in, his claws continue to remain the same as does James - unawake. You stare for a moment before turning back to your book, reading your favorite part.

You continue for another five minutes or so before a gasp brings you out of it. You lower your book to see James shoot up from his lying position on the couch. His breathing is heavy and his chest seems to move with each breath. You immediately discard the book and go to him, kneeling down and carefully placing a hand on his shoulder.

“James?” You say quietly. “It’s Y/N. I found you passed out on the porch so I brought you inside.”

The man immediately looks up, his brown eyes meeting your E/C. Recognition slowly seemed to make its way into them before he looked away, eyes catching his broken claws which now appeared to be about 8 inches long.

“Fuck.” He growls out, clenching and unclenching his fists as he examines them.

“Yeah… you looked like absolute shit when I opened the door and I noticed that your claws were - well that. What the fuck happened?” You question, arm not leaving his shoulder.

“Another mutant. Some guy the size of a train. Got into a scuffle and well, it seems he took a piece of me with him.” James explained, not adding any details.

“Where’s Victor?” You question, eyebrows furrowed at his brother not being here.

“He’s been hunting’ some other mutant for a fight he lost. Wants revenge.” James scoffs, showing his displeasure with the action.

“Okay…” You drift off, rising from your position to think of what to do.

With the snow storm starting to brew outside, you knew that it was more than likely James would be stuck here for a day or two - not that you were complaining.

“While that doesn’t explain how the fuck you ended up on my front porch, I have to ask - do they grow back? Cause I swore they were shorter when I brought you in.” You were dying to know, eyes locked on his claws.

Though you’ve now run into more mutants since those years ago when you met the brothers, you still know very little about their mutations. You were dying to know more. Perhaps if his claws grow back, your own would if, God forbid, they were cut off too.

James raised them into the front of his face, once again clenching and unclenching as he too examined them.

“Huh.” He started. “Guess so Sweetheart. Never had ‘em broken before.” With that, the claws sink back into his knuckles and the wounds heal over as if they were never there.

You nod, seeing the reason but a little upset more information wasn’t given to you. If his mutation was just like yours, which you understood it was, his body heels and regenerates faster than an average person. So why couldn’t his claws do the same.

“Well, since you're here, want dinner?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

James nodded.

…

After dinner you told him about the storm and how he probably shouldn’t leave until it died down. You both knew the snow and cold wouldn’t bother him - that he could’ve left as soon as he awoke, neither one of you acknowledged that.

Instead, you ate on the couch next to each other, recalling the past few months since you’ve seen each other. You were glad to just spend time with him, for once not having to deal with a mutant, Victor, or some other issue that seems to get in the way.

Once you were both finished, you washed the dishes before pouring yourself and him a glass of whisky, bringing the bottle with you as you resumed your seat next to him. He thanked you with a nod - not a man of many words.

You sat in silence, his arm occasionally brushing against yours as he raised it to sip his drink. If he noticed the goosebumps appear on your arm every time he did so, he didn’t say anything.

Your thoughts ran wild since you brought him inside. The silence has you thinking. You came to a realization after he saved you from the Mutant.

You felt comfortable around him, natural.

You weren’t used to it. You weren’t used to being around someone else for so long. You could only last a few hours. You could bear having a drink in a bar but that was it. You loved being alone. You hated being around people, mutants or not. You were a solitary creature and preferred it that way.

But with James, it felt different - it felt natural that the two of you could sit in silence when you were with each other and didn’t need to fill it. You could just relax around the other and not worry about all the other people around.

This fact startles you.

You hated being around others.

“Are you reading Brave New World?” James' question cuts you out of your thoughts.

You see his gaze has traveled to your now abounded book on the chair. You nod, turning to him and realizing now just how close the two of you have gotten.

His right leg is pressed against your left, his head almost entering your personal bubble. Your eyes meet when you turn to look at him, the brown dark and the fire reflecting off of them.

“Yeah.” You answer. “It’s my favorite. I think it kind of relates to how we live now if you think about it. Without a mutation, people have the same thought, but that thought was engraved into them and they never knew differently.” You state, trying your best to explain why you like it so much.

“If one’s different -“

“One’s bound to be lonely.” You finish the quote, surprised he knew it. “You’ve read it?”

James nods, his eyes quickly flashing to your lips before back to your eyes. You almost think you imagined it.

“I didn’t know you could read.” You tease, a smile pulling at your lips.

“Smartass.” James states, shaking his head and growing a smile of his own.

You smile back, just staring at him as his eyes are locked on your own, as if searching for something. You’re not sure who leaned in first, maybe you both did and met in the middle. But before you knew it, your lips were touching his.

You couldn’t explain. You’ve kissed others before. You’ve fucked others before. But it never felt the same when you kissed James. This was different, better. Natural.

His lips fit perfectly over your own, moving gently, almost hesitant at first this time, before throwing caution to the wind and adding more force. His lips were surprisingly soft as they formed against yours.

His tongue pried your lips apart easily and you almost fell apart. He tasted just as you remembered, like the whiskey he was drinking but also like tobacco from a cigar he probably smoked hours prior. It was a taste you couldn’t get enough of.

You moan as his stubble scratched against your cheeks as you moved, the dominance in both your mutations not wanting to give up easily. You placed your hands on his chest, feeling the muscles beneath his shirt as they traveled up. They finally reached their destination: the little tufts on either side of his head.

This time you didn’t think about the fact that you were in a fight with another mutant. That your home was destroyed and you had to move again. This time you were truly able to take in the moment, focusing solely on his lips on yours.

You grabbed his hair tufts into your hands, pulling tightly which released a groan from his mouth. You pressed your thighs together, your core beginning to ache as you think of what other sounds you could get out of him.

James seemed to notice that you’re trying to lead things and he quickly sets you straight. His own hands travel down to your waist, gripping your hips before pulling you towards him.

Somehow he’s able to maneuver you without breaking the kiss so that you’re laying with your back on the couch. Your hands are still entangled in his hair but he’s on top, his hips pressing into your own and his cock saying hello.

This is way better than your fantasies.

You try to buck up - to get some type of friction where you desperately need it but he’s having none of that. As if he enjoys teasing you, he lifts his hips away from your exploration to deny you that friction.

Sooner than you’d have liked, you need air. So with great reluctance you pull away from your favorite kiss ever, mouth parting from his.

“Fuck.” James groans quietly, his breath fanning your lips. “Been wanting to do that since you pulled away last time.”

You laugh - you can’t help it. Because you felt the exact same way. You tell him that.

“Seeing you there - truly you with no Victor around, it was like seeing you for the first time.” You revealed to him, suddenly nervous at your admission.

But James doesn’t tease you or mock you. No. He smiles, showing all his teeth and appearing happy.

“I’m glad you saw me Sweetheart.” He says before leaning back down to capture your lips again.

This kiss is sloppy, tongues immediately meeting and teeth smashing against each other. You’re tongues battle for control over the kiss, neither relenting.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

You rely solely on your instincts. On your mouth meeting his, tongue fighting his. His entire being consumes you. His large body is covering yours, his scent of tobacco, whiskey, and something entirely just James invading your sense of smell.

He pulls your bottom lip between his teeth, sucking and pulling another moan out of you. This time he’s the one that pulls away first, lips kissing along your jawline before reaching your pulse point.

You know it’s racing beneath his lips and you buck your hips as he begins to suck. The sensation shoots right down to your core and need some type of friction between your legs.

“Fuck.” You moan, the feeling unlike any other.

Thankfully he doesn’t pull away this time, grinding down into you so you can feel his hardened cock. You sigh at the feeling, finally having some relief. His hands travel from your waist to the bottom of your shirt, silently saying he wants it off. His mouth leaves your neck as you push him away, watching as he leans back so you can quickly discard your shirt. Already up, you make quick work of taking off your bra.

“Fuck.” James says lowly, his eyes darkening.

He licks his lips and goes to discard his own shirt in one go. You don’t get a chance to admire him like he did you as he immediately pushes you back down, lips now attacking your breasts.

His lips attack your right one, his hand going to your left. His mouth immediately finds your nipple, sucking and biting. You moan at the sensation, eyes closed and moving your hands to travel up and down his bare back, feeling the muscles ripple beneath.

Your claws elongate and they continue to trail up and down, creating scratches on James’ back that seem to heal the moment they appear. The action causes the man to groan, hips grinding harder down on you.

His lips leave your breast and you want to cry at the lost but they don’t leave your body, trailing down your stomach with open kisses. He reaches your waistline, and hear a schlit, opening your eyes to meet his brown ones.

You catch his gaze and see his right hand has elongated his claws- now fully healed. You realize he’s asking your permission to remove them. You nod, wanting nothing between him and your core. His claws quickly slice through your pants and underwear, James grabbing them and tossing them over the side of the couch.

His lips return to your body, your hands back in his hair. He places kisses on the inside of your right thigh, traveling up and over your mound before moving to the other. He finds one spot that elicits a moan from you and bites down, causing you to buck up into his face.

“Ugh fuck.” You moan breathlessly

One of his arms finds its way across your stomach to hold you down. He seems to be everywhere except the one place you want him to be.

“Been wanting to taste your juices sweetheart.” James says, his warm breath fanning your core and bringing goosebumps to your skin.

Finally, after what feels like forever, his lips find your clit and he places a kiss there before running his tongue along it.

You through your head back at the new sensation. “Fuck James.”

The man uses that as motivation, starting to suck and sometimes adding his teeth in the mix. You’re core is soaked at this point and jolt slightly as he travels down and licks along your slit.

“So sweet baby.” He groans against you.

His tongue prods in and out slowly as you try to buck up to get him to go deeper but his hand prevents you. His mouth travels back to suck your clit and he suddenly presses a finger into you, giving you no warning. You immediately tighten around him, trying to buck your hips again but to no avail.

“Ughh.” You moan, feeling as his finger slowly, torturously, moves in and out of you.

He soon adds another finger, setting a slow pace. “That’s it. Look at you squeezing around my fingers like a good girl.”

You nod, feeling yourself get more turned on at his words. His fingers move occasionally to curl up, hitting the spot you need most and your hand in his hair try to push his mouth further to your clit.

You start to feel the familiar feeling set in your stomach, pulling and gripping his hair tighter. The fire starts to spread in your stomach, reaching your throat like you can’t breath and pulsating at you’re core. He seems to get the hint, immediately stopping his motions and pulling back entirely.

Your eyes snap open, looking down to see James sitting back on his knees, just watching you. He chuckles lowly at the state you’re in and you know what he probably sees. Skin flushed, breathing heavy, hair mused. Face annoyed.

“You’re not cumin’ on my fingers sweetheart.” James says, before reaching down to remove his jeans, revealing to not be wearing underwear. “I want to feel you cum on my cock.”

You core tightens at his words, your gaze taking him in. His hair is all over the place from your gripping. His stubble is drenched in your juices, own skin flushed and chest heaving up and down.

You can’t help yourself as your gaze travels down to his cock. Your eyes almost pop out of your head. He’s large, there’s no denying that. Probably 8 inches, and his girth is the largest you’ve seen. His head is red and angry, precum leaking from his tip.

Next time you’re gonna have a taste.

But you don’t get to tonight as he moves back on you, returning to cover your body with his. His lips meet your own again and you moan as you can taste yourself.

You wrap your hands around his neck and move your legs wider apart, trying to make room for his legs between your own. He seems impossibly larger now and you relish in the feeling of his bare chest against yours.

You feel his hand slide down your body, gathering some of your juices. He grunts, seeming to be pumping himself before you feel his tip against your entrance.

He rubs it over your slit, continuing his teasing form earlier as he moves his hips forward, allowing just his head to enter you before pulling back. He pulls away from your mouth, breath on your face and eyes staring into yours.

You stare into the dark brown, seeing only lust and trust in his eyes. He looks almost vulnerable, if not for the fact that he’s a very large man, in every aspect.

Before you can kiss him again, his hips shoot forward and his cock is sheathed in you. You gasp at the intrusion, his fingers not at all preparing you for it.

“Fuck you’re so tight.” James mumbles before leaning forward to catch your lips again.

You’re tongues continue to lazily dance together. He sets a slow but brutal pace. His hips pull back slowly, agonizingly, before he slams them back into yours, filling you up.

You try to meet each thrust, bucking your hips every moment to drag him closer. Your claws continue to drag up and down his back, creating more bloody scratches that heal.

His own hands are gripping each of your hips now, their strength forming bruises that you know will heal once their pressure is gone. He pulls you into him everytime he enters, your eyes seeing stars everytime.

He pulls his mouth from yours, moving to your neck to kiss, suck, bite anywhere he can. At one point you’re sure he draws blood before he’s sucking it again as it heals.

You never imagined it would feel like this with him. His large body covering yours, sweat mixing with your own. You’re senses filled with nothing but him, his scent, his blood, his body, his cock.

It’s perfect.

“Fuck James, don’t stop,” you say, moving one hand from his back to rub your clit, feeling the pressure start to build.

One of his hands leaves your hip to grab your own, bringing it up to the right side of your face to pin it down.

“That’s my job sweetheart.” He grins wolfishly at you before letting your hand go to find your nub.

He immediately does and pinches it hard before rubbing in circles that somehow match each thrust.

“Fuck baby you feel so fucking good.” James praises into your ear. “You gonna cum on my cock? You been wanting this since you saw me, huh?”

“Mhm.” Is all you can ge tout, nodding along to the dirty words he’s spewing. “So bad James. Moment I saw you. Every instinct was to fuck you.” Your reveal the truth.

“That’s a good girl.” He grunts, his hips picking up place as his hand moves faster. “Want you to cum my cock. Wanna smell you for days.”

You moan at that, the words doing something deep in you. Your pressure continued to build and build and you’re almost at the edge.

“Fuck James I’m gonna-“

James cuts you off my moving faster then you think anyone can move. His fingers press harder into your clit and soon you’re seeing stars, entire body tensing and core squeezing him tight. Your claws dig deep into his shoulders, holding tightly.

“Ungh Fuck”

It’s enough to send James over the edge too, his own body tensing and breathing heavy. You hear a schlitt and then he’s groaning in your ear and you feel himself empty into you.

“Fuck sweetheart.” James breaths, slowing the movements of his hips.

You can’t say anything, mind completely blank. You never imagined it would be this good with James. You knew it would be good, but this was beyond any fantasy.

His body stills above you, hips still planted firmly against your own and cock still deep inside. His entire weight is pressed onto you and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You didn’t see him as the rough type, or dirty talker. But the words that came out of his mouth only made him hotter and more appealing to the animal inside of you.

You retract your claws and run one hand up and down his spine in a soothing manner as both of you try to gain control of your breathing. Your other hand scracthes his hair at the base of his neck, noticing that it’s surprisingly soft.

James carefully exits from you but doesn’t move his body beside that, content to just lay there. His face is pressed into the right side of your neck, occasionally kissing you. His right hand comes up and carresss the other side of your neck, moving up and down your pulse point.

You didn’t take him as a cuddler.

“Fuck James.” You whisper, eyes staring at the ceiling as you relish in what just happened.

You feel James body vibrate with a chuckle. “Feel the same sweeheart.”

He pulls away slightly from your neck and you turn to look at him, eyes meeting.

“Never had ‘em come out like that before.” He reveals, referring to his own claws.

You look down and see identical puncture marks on either side of you hips. This couch has definitely reached its finish line.

You shoot him a soft smile, liking this vulnerable side of him. “It’s never felt like that before.” You share with him.

Your eyes stare into his brown ones, neither of you relenting. His are back to trust but there's something else there this time. Something you’ve never seen in another's eyes before when looking at you.

“I leave for vietnam in a week.” James whispers to you.

You stare into his eyes, seeing something vulnerable at his admission to you. You’re not sure what to say. You guys aren’t together or anything. Just a few run-ins and this amazing night together. But you’d be lying if you didn’t think it would change something between the two of you.

Maybe more run-ins. Maybe more of tonight. Maybe moments together that are a week long rather than a day.

“Visit when you come back?” You whisper, hope in your voice.

James leans forward, capturing his lips with yours. “I plan on it.”

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