#it's also a good poolverine song too | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

peargreen-jellybean · 18 days

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too fuckin long, so sorry about that, but enjoy a 3k word count poolverine hurt/comfort ficlet from the prompt idea i posted

my writing skills suck a bit and i wrote this on my phone but i did my best. enjoy

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Logan’s woken up in alleyways, face down, with clothes torn from a brawl he instigated and the glass bottles he’d fallen onto. Sometimes, if he’s lucky, he wakes up slumped over a table in the back of a bar because the owner was too afraid to tell him to leave.

Afraid of his claws or just his name.

The buzz of alcohol never stays long, even with high proof liquor, but the tiredness of a fucked up life still lingers for awhile more after several bottles of booze.

So waking up exhausted isn’t new. It's about the only way he’s woken up for a long time.

And that’s what Logan expects, slowly coming back to consciousness.

Exhaustion. Some hard surface. Hopefully most of his clothes intact.

One eye begrudgingly cracks open.

Yup, definitely a little fucked up. His joints ache deep into the bone and his head is cotton-y.

But… Nothing feels hard or sharp beneath him. In fact, he feels… comfortable.

Huh.

Turning just a bit, he finds his face buried in softness. It smells lived in; skin, spilled food, a hint of… gunpowder? And, after a moment, he hears the soft sound of music- too quiet to be bar music but not muffled enough to be from a building he isn’t inside of.

Huh.

“Mmm.” Using his forearms, Logan props himself up just enough to leave the softness and get a look around him.

Not an alley. Not a bar. Not even a cheap, seedy motel.

A house- er, an apartment more likely. And he’s sprawled, a moment ago face down, on top of an old couch with a blanket over him and pillow under him. Neither the couch nor the general space is all that large, he’s practically spilling off the furniture, but everything feels warm and lived in. Home-y, if a little messy.

There isn’t anyone else here- the living room, a good guess- but noises, once he registers them, coming from an adjacent room says he isn’t alone. The soft music seems to filter through from there as well.

Logan flips himself over, a bit too groggy to be elegant about it, and rubs the sleep from his eyes. The feel of gritty grime on his face, more than he usually gets after a night drowning in alcohol, confuses him.

And then-

His head slumps back into the pillow and he groans. “Fucking hell.”

The TVA. The Time Ripper. The Void.

The red spandex-ed asshole who stole him from his timeline.

… Who, after everything, took him home, here, introduced him to his blind roommate- Althea, if he recalls- and offered him a place to stay and sleep for a while. And, vaguely remembering being too tired to shower, who also gave Logan some clothes to sleep in.

Groaning, only half heartedly after remembering the comforts offered and taken, Logan pulls back the blanket and, likey for the first time, actually checks to see what he’s wearing.

A gray, “I eat cement” T-shirt and blue, rubber duck shorts.

Yeah, that seems about right.

He huffs, but sits up to get his elbows onto his knees and scrub more of the sleep away from his face. Instant regret again. Both he and Wade- battle worn and disgusting- had forgone a shower in favor of just near instantly passing out. He is fucking gross; dirt, blood, and god knows what else covering him in a disgusting layer.

Logan feels a pang of shame for getting onto their couch with this much dirt and sweat coating him- maybe he can wash the blanket and pillowcase as an apology- but a clattering from the room with the music recatches his attention. The volume of whatever song is playing- a woman singing, pleasantly raspy- increases afterward.

Too interested to ignore whatever’s going on, Logan gets up to stand- with only a small groan, thank you- and, after a quick, satisfying stretch, slowly pads over to the doorway. Nothing outright sounds or feels dangerous, but from his experience and especially after the past few days, the need for caution can’t be shaken.

He must still not be fully awake, because the smell hits him only a few creeping steps from the doorway; pepper, eggs, something a bit burnt.

Food.

God, he didn’t realize how hungry he was until now. Even the burning smell is appetizing.

Popping his head in, the sight inside startles him awake completely.

With “I <3 hot dads” shorts, a red apron, and fucking crocs on his feet, Wade shifts around in front of the kitchen counter, swaying to the song he has playing from a radio somewhere. The place is a complete mess of egg shells and plates, but the table has a, rather large, plate of scrambled eggs, another plate of half burnt toast, and an assortment of other breakfast items. The smell of coffee also hangs in the air. And for the first time, maybe since knowing the man- and when he wasn’t unconscious- Wade is happily content not saying a word. He simply turns a toaster, with a fucking butter knife stuck into it, this way and that, and shakes it like he wants information from it.

It’s jarringly warm, and domestic.

Logan is again thrown for a moment.

When was the last time he woke up to clean clothes- even though he himself is gross as hell- the softness of a pillow, to the smell and sight of another person cooking breakfast in a kitchen?

Ever?

That sounds pathetically sad and incorrect, but in the doorway, watching it happen in real time, Logan feels lost and a bit raw.

Lucky for him though, Wade is still an annoying fuck and pulls him from his thoughts.

Like he sensed the presence of the other man half lingering in the doorway, Wade looks back at him and smiles wide. All bright teeth. No mask.

“Well, good morning Peanut! Did ya sleep well? I don't know about you but I think being torn apart and put back together finally got rid of the knot in my back. God, I slept like Al after she goes through waaay too many little baggies.” He motions over to the table with his chin. “I made some eggs and toast if you want. A true triumphant heroes’ breakfast! Hopefully you like them both a bit overdone. And there’s a pot of coffee over there.” He gestures to a machine on the counter now. “You can literally just drink from the pot if you want. Caffeine does not work on me, funnily enough. We don’t have creamer but there’s milk in the fridge and sugar next to the coffee maker…”

Wade goes on to babble about everything and nothing and, while Logan cannot count the number of times he’s wanted to stab the man for not shutting up, he can’t find the want to be actually irritated.

Not in the face of food, and coffee, and just… comfort.

Speaking of…

Logan clears the lump in his throat. “Thanks.” It’s all he can think to say, but he means it, even with the rough rumble of his morning voice.

Which Wade seems to find fascinating.

“Holy shit! How the fuck does your voice get even deeper? God, you would make a killing as a erotic audio book reader. Millions probably.” Wade flashes a flirtatious look before he turns back to the toaster and continues to mumble to himself, or perhaps the broken machine.

Logan huffs, but the call of coffee is stronger than his need for a comeback. The whole pot is grabbed per the offer, the sugar too, and now standing in front of the table he finds himself hesitating. No spots are occupied and nothing says ‘preferred seat’, but Logan can’t help but pause. ‘Make yourself at home’ feels like the unsaid, unfamiliar offer he can’t accept as easily as the coffee.

It feels too easy- another pathetic thought- and he can’t help but feel like he isn’t awake yet, and the reality of a cold, pavement bed will greet him if he gets too comfortable…

“Stupid fucking piece of metal crap!” Wade hisses, followed by the sound of the knife stabbing into the toaster.

Nope, probably not a dream. Logan is not a creative enough person to come up with something like this.

God, so just… sit, you fucking moron.

Picking a chair facing away from the toaster killer, Logan sets the coffee pot down- on a mat he also picked up, he isn’t an asshole- and settles in.

He feels awkward, like a kid at his first sleepover, but the eggs are there in front of him and his stomach is starting to growl. Awkwardness can wait until after a few bites, at least. There’s a lack of something important on the table though. After a quick glance around the plates and cups, and not finding anything, he looks over to Wade who seems to be completely brawling with the toaster now.

Wincing at the sight, and before he can rethink his decision, Logan clears the remaining sleep from his throat and uses that to draw the other man’s attention.

“Do uh, do you got a fork or somethin’?”

“Ah fuck, that’s what I forgot!” Wade sets, or slams really, the toaster down and moves over to a drawer, then rooting through it. “Didn’t run the dishwasher either and all the good forks are in it. Fuck…” He mumbles something else too, but lets out a triumphant ‘ha!’ when he pulls out two forks, one a little more bent than the other.

He skips, almost, over to Logan and presents the utensils. “Here you go Peanut, pick your favorite!”

Grabbing the more bent fork, Logan nods a silent thanks and begins slowly transferring eggs from the larger plate to one of the smaller, empty ones. Wade, satisfied with the choice, simply sets the other fork onto the table and goes back to the counter, and that damn toaster.

But before brawling again, he calls back, “Help yourself to as much as you want Babygirl! You deserve it for all your sexy hero work!”

Logan huffs again but grabs one of the toaster’s victims, once he’s gotten a fair amount of egg, and takes a bite of the slightly over cooked toast and just… enjoys.

The moment is pretty… nice.

Warm food. Morning sun from the window- god, he doesn’t even know that time it is. Wade isn’t quiet, hardly ever is, but he’s not overly inane or loud right now.

It’s all… good.

So… What does it?

An old memory, like deja vu, from another place and time with other people? The still lingering, ghostly sensation of his own body shredding and healing, just below his skin? Wade grumbling at the counter over the broken toaster, like a strange picture of domestic living?

It could be anything, everything.

But all he knows is that it’s twisting into something else. Something darker, and sharper, and cold.

Logan starts to tremble in his seat and the fork in his hand damn near snaps in his grip. The bite of food in his mouth tastes like blood- no, it is blood. He’s bitten into his tongue. His heart is racing, and something is tight in his chest, too tight and still tightening. Crushing.

Air isn’t breathable. His lungs won’t let it in.

Whatever stupid song is playing now is muffled by a white hot pulsing between his ears.

… He knows this.

Panic.

This is panic.

Of all the times to break, after days of one problem after another, pain after pain, this is when it happens? Now? While he’s sitting in Wade fucking Wilson’s kitchen, wearing his worn-soft clothes and eating at his table and listening to some soft song on the radio?

Yes, it is.

Pathetic.

Fucking pathetic.

He can’t focus anywhere anymore- it’s too much, too overwhelming, too fucking stupid to reason with- and burning nausea is creeping up his throat.

He’s spiraling. He’s breaking. And he can’t find the fight to beat himself out of it.

Perhaps that’s the reason he doesn’t hear the increasingly desperate ‘Logan?’s behind him or the quick footsteps moving towards the table.

He does startle, however, at a sudden touch to the side of his skull, making him gasp.

His claws gouge the surface of the table and knock over a half-filled water cup but, remarkably, they don’t thrust into the sudden presence pressing to his side.

It takes a good minute to process the situation, much slower than it usually takes him. But he feels the warmth of another person and the pressure of a hand on his head and his head is bent at an odd angle-

Wade, his mind breathes. This is his scent- gunpowder, spandex, and his own strange, unique smell. The touch to the back of his skull is his hand and the press to his cheek is the exposed skin below his shirt.

He’s cuddling him.

Uh-

And because it’s what he does best, Logan rages.

“The fuck are you doing?!” Logan snaps, and he yanks his head back from the other man’s grasp. Or, at least, he tries to.

“Eeeasy Peanut,” Wade hushes, not relinquishing Logan’s head. It's easy to forget the teasing, ridiculous man is incredibly strong. The battle lasts all of two seconds, and Wade’s stubbornness takes the victory. Logan’s cheek presses back to his hip and stays there under the weight of his hand.

“Easy, easy, easy…” Wade mumbles. He hesitates, only for a moment. “Vanessa did this… when shit got really bad.”

He’s quiet. He doesn’t elaborate. He doesn’t have to. The meaning and weight of the softly spoken words are enough.

There’s a growl starting to rumble in his chest and while he wants to fight against Wade harder- he doesn’t need sentimental crap or, god forbid, pity- Logan takes a breath just long enough to pause here in the moment, and let’s himself feel.

Wade’s hand is cradling his skull and his fingers are threaded through his hair. The weight of them is firm, but not crushing. No, they’re gentle. And they press his cheek and temple into Wade’s side, where the dip of his waist is. Even at the odd angle his neck is bent to, the shape of the dip fits to his face near perfectly and, if obliged to stay here, he would be comfortable. Wade’s body heat- much like his own, running high due to constant cellular regeneration- seeps into him. Into his skin, and then his flesh, and then his bones, settling deep into his chest.

All of it, it… helps.

The revelation startles Logan.

The weight and solidness of Wade is grounding; constant, steady pressure. His warmth slowly relaxes the painful tightness behind Logan’s ribs. Even his smell- showered now, likely before he started cooking, still strange but not unbearable- settles his mind just because it’s there.

Wade… is anchoring him.

Maybe he really should fight this harder, or be annoyed at the coddling, or pissed just because he’s being handled at all, but Logan can’t keep a grip on any of the feelings. He can’t stop the calm that pulls him in and brings him down. It’s so- He’s feels so-

…

… When was the last time he was held?

Not fucked by nameless faces, or hanging on to another person for dear life, or punch near through the stomach- Held.

Was it before- God does it hurt.

… Was it before, when he had his fellow mutant friends and family? Before that?

After?… Definitely not.

Warmth, gentleness, nothing of the kind was what he deserved afterwards. He could never reward himself with something he never showed, and no one offered it to him regardless.

Logan shudders, his breath likely teasing Wade’s skin but, if the other man feels it, he blissfully leaves the fact be.

Wade- warm, solid, annoying as hell Wade- who breaks his train of thought, unaware of it. “Better right? When Vanessa first did this, waaay back in the storyline, I fucking melted like a kid’s ice cream. It’s like the guilty, trauma victim’s morphine.” He pauses, and there’s a grin to his words now. “I also ate her out that first time, but we can wait to do that until the second mental breakdown session, Babygirl.”

Yup. There it is. Asshole.

But Logan just, non-committedly hums, although it's more of a grumble. Yeah, Wade will probably be insufferable after this, smug and a whole new level of too comfortable touching him, but right now, right here, he’s calming.

He’s- something Logan can’t quite name. Or at least, he’s unwilling to.

Call Logan weak, call him pathetic- because he truthfully is, just below the storm in his skin- and like hell does he actually deserve this, but he’s gonna savor it for as long as he possibly can.

Seconds pass, or maybe hours, and the gentle massage of Wade’s fingertips to his scalp continues during it before his hand slides away from Logan’s hair onto his shoulder.

The loss of that contact against his head is disappointing-a private thought- but when Wade shifts like he’s about to move away the disappointment quickly morphs into panic.

He isn’t ready to let go.

He isn’t ready for Wade to leave.

With pure, unthinking action, Logan latches onto the fabric of Wade’s shorts just below the hip he isn’t leaning against. He fists the material into a ball, like he’s afraid the other man will just disappear if he doesn’t hold tight enough.

Like he really is going to wake up, and be alone again with only the memory of coffee and warmth.

Embarrassment quickly reddens his face once he understands what he’s done but, instead of releasing Wade, Logan turns his face into his hip to hide. Clenching his eyes shut for extra precaution.

Weak. Pathetic.

Wade is quiet, his hand hovering above Logan’s shoulder after it was started off but, just as Logan is about to relinquish his hold of the man- he can't bear the unnerving stillness of him- Wade surprises him again.

Quick but gentle, Wade cups the back of Logan’s head and neck, turns ever so slightly to the side, and presses Logan’s forehead to the cushion of his stomach. And just lets the other man stay against him, as he rubs his head and shoulders.

Logan cries a small sound he’s never heard himself make before- something wounded, and relieved, and ragged- but he can’t be bothered to care. Not right now. He releases his death hold on Wade’s shorts and wraps his arms around the other man’s thighs, as flush against him as he can be in their current positions. His hold might be too tight, edging on painful most likely, but Wade doesn’t complain. Doesn’t do anything except this… hold him.

Thank you, thank you, thank you…

“Of course, big guy. Whatever you need.”

Ah, he said that out loud.

… He’ll care about that later. Logan will be pissed, and embarrassed, and in denial at some point, but it’ll all be later. When Wade isn’t cradling him or murmuring soft words. When he isn’t cooking warm food or listening to music on the radio.

When he isn’t making him feel like, for the first time in a long time, he’s allowed to have kindness.

Fucking… Wade.

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queens-of-spirits · 2 days

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The Poolverine Playlist

So as I mentioned in the latest chapter of my fic, I have a Poolverine Playlist. I had some people say they were interested so here it is! Please let me know if you have additions or edits to these songs to share! It’s under read more because it is loooooong. I was going to add links but tumblr will not let me add that many.

Like a Prayer by Madonna (3 versions). You know why this is here, I know why this is here, no explanation needed, it is their song

The Power of Love by Huey Lewis and the News. It’s the song that plays while Wade is searching for his dream man a wolverine

You’re the One that I want - From Grease. The Honda Odyssey song!!! The thing that, combined with the come hither motions, the taunting, the belt grab, and literally ever other part of this scene, makes it clear that there was a little more than fighting going on in that car.

If I Could Turn Back Time by Cher. I know this one is more from the second movie, but the themes of time travelling to undo past mistakes (specifically of cruel worlds like those initially shared between them) really fits their story

The Masochism Tango by Tom Lehrer. My personal alternative soundtrack to the Honda Odyssey scene. They both were enjoying stabbing each other a biiiiit to much for this not to be fair game.

Love Grows (Where My Rosemary Goes) by Edison Lighthouse. I can’t stop imagining this playing over a series of domestic vignettes post-movie where Logan realizes he’s in love. Also, there is hand-holding imagery, you’ll see a lot of that in this list.

Problems by Mother Mother. Particularly the first few verses. The whole finding love in a strange place while locked up in a cage is very them (“Not all of you was asleep,” anyone?) and that first bit about the singer believing that the subject is good enough for heaven but they aren’t? I can see the edits in my mind’s eye. The best part? It works no matter who you imagine as the singer.

Wrecking Ball by Mother Mother. This could be either of them, but I just can’t help by see Logan dealing with his anger and violence and idea that he ruined his worlds and then the two coming together to be fucked up and break shit together.

Curses by The Crane Wives. This is so Worst Wolverine. His world is destroyed and it’s his fault, but then Wade comes along and makes it all easier somehow.

Tongue’s & Teeth by The Crane Wives. Again, so Logan it HURTS. Feeling like a monster that hurts or destroys every good thing and will ruin Wade too, but willing to accept the fact that Wade seems to know this, but doesn’t care.

Predator by The Crane Wives (I really like their music lol). It’s on their latest albums and again. It really embodies the character of Logan to me. Tim’s hard to describe without just showing you guys the lyrics, so honestly go listen to it guys.

Sticks and Stones by The Pierces. This one is hard to describe, so please trust me and listen to it with Poolverine in mind

Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls. Okay, if I had to pick another song for the hand holding to Madonna scene, it’s this one. The vibes are immaculate, the theme talking about not being understood but finding someone who sees you are perfect, but that’s not why it’s here. It’s here because if two lines that are so much like Logan in that moment where he rushes in to save Wade. One: “you’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be/And I don’t want to go home right now.” This one is Logan finding something in Wade he’d thought he’d lost and realizing, perhaps even in that moment, that he doesn’t want to go back to a fixed world. Two: the very first line “and I’d give up forever to touch you.” Logan believes that if he goes in that chamber he will die, but he breaks down the door anyway. He’s literally giving up his effectively immortal lifespan (forever) to touch Wade because he’d rather die with him that live in a universe where he doesn’t exist.

Too Sweet by Hozier. This one is so Logan falling in love with Wade post-movie. Logan having another chance at life and Wade trying to pull him out of his most self-destructive habits while Logan can’t think of anything but how Wade is too good, too sweet for him.

This is Love by Air Traffic Controller. I love these boys but they are a liiiiittle toxic. This is that (plus the knife and gun imagery)

The Red Means I Love You by Madds Buckley. Remember that scene where Wade bled into Logan’s mouth and he had that feral ass grin and laughed? Yeah.

I WANNA BE YOUR SLAVE by Måneskin. You say rough sex I say Poolverine.

Big Bang Theory Man by Clare Fader and The Vaudevillians. It’s another toxic romance vibes song. This one has guns lol

Somebody to Love by Queen. I think this really exemplifies their lives before they find each other. They’re both lost, both put down by life and the world. They don’t know it yet, but they’re just looking for somebody to love.

You Give Love a Bad Name by Bon Jovi. A little more toxicity for the boys. Logan singing this about Wade works well. Like with the idea that Logan played his part in Wade’s game and got sent to the void. Plus comparing Wade to a loaded gun? Yes. Just yes

You Make My Dreams (Come True) by Daryl Hall & John Oates. I like to believe that they both made each other’s dreams come true. Wade got to team up with Wolverine and Logan got a second chance.

The Other Side from the Greatest Showman soundtrack. Look I know Hugh is the one singing here, but I can’t help but draw comparisons from this song to Wade dragging Logan away from the bar where he’s content to waste away.

I Don’t Care if You’re Contagious by Pierce the Veil. My beta reader (crypticanid here on tumblr) recommended this one so it’s here.

The Chain by Fleetwood Mac. The chain is them holding hands to save the world :-)

Dancing in the Dark by Bruce Springsteen. Here for dad rock energy and because it fits pre-movie Logan.

Shackled And Drawn by Bruce Springsteen. See above (Springsteen is peak dad rock to me)

Angel Eyes & Basketball by Foot Ox. Look at these opening eyes and tell it isn’t Logan “There are flowers growing all around a massive animal inside of me/And it's so ugly/And I'm so broken/And I'm so ugly/And it's so broken”

Heaven’s Gate by Amélie Farren. This is so Worst Wolverine pre-movie. He’s lost and helpless and blames himself for ruining his world. Also, the bit about “I was told that I was vital in the plan to save my life” is giving Logan agreeing to help Wade so the TVA can fix his world. And not believing in Wade and always running away before finally deciding to stay and follow? So represented in this song. Also! “‘Cause I didn’t deserve heaven, but I’m standing at its gate”? That is so Logan when he sees the start of his life with Wade stretch out before him.

Creepy Old Guy from the Beetlejuice musical soundtrack. This is one of the silly ones, but I find the idea of Wade singing this about Logan, who remember is over 200, really funny. He’s Logan’s controversially young girlfriend.

November by Sparkbird. It’s a song about travelling grouch parallel universes and the vibes are very Poolverine. Plenty of knife imagery.

Loser, Baby from the Hazbin Hotel soundtrack. Look I know this one is a little off the wall, but c’mon, it’s a song where an animal themed alcoholic and a hyper sexual gun-lover who are heavily implied to have feelings for each other sing about how life sucks and they’re both losers, but at least they have each other. It’s one the nose (I would actually cry if someone did artwork of them dancing in front of that billboard like in the show)

#poolverine #deadpool #deadpool & wolverine #logan howlett #wade wilson #wolverine #shipping #ship #ship playlist #playlist #Poolverine playlist #deadclaws #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool 3 #deadclaws playlist #music #idk what my music taste even is #Spotify

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