wanted to write a drabble inspired from my last post/thought (which was basically logan laying on top of you) hope you enjoy <3
logan howlett x fem! reader
logan howlett was a man whose mind never seemed to have an off switch. a man who was constantly plagued with memories he had no recollection of. faces of loved ones and people who wanted to hurt him that haunted him in his sleep. he was a man who had a lot of pent up energy, claws itching to come out beneath the surface, ready for any imminent threat because he could never allow himself to fully let his guard down.
except for when he was laying with you. you, who had a way of turning his tormented mind into static silence whenever his head was pressed against your chest, your heartbeat lulling him into a complete state of calmness. he couldn’t think of a place he felt safer.
when you first presented the idea to him, he was to say the least, hesitant.
‘i’ll crush you’ he’d said matter-of-factly.
you had rolled your eyes at his dramatics.
‘and i’ll die happy’ you responded lightly with a smile. he wasn’t amused.
‘c’mon… if it hurts, i’ll tell you, i promise.’
his eyes had playfully narrowed but he knew he was at his wits end with you. a bat of your lashes and he couldn’t deny you anything. he huffed before slowly lowering himself on top of you, the weight of his adamantium-laced skeleton pressing against your body.
‘this okay?’
‘yeah, it’s fine. i actually kind of like it.’
his lips had twitched up at that.
now, he was addicted. practically dragging you to your shared bedroom in the mansion whenever the two of you had free time in between missions and teaching. he would never explicitly ask to lay on you but you knew. of course, you knew. and you were happy to oblige.
your fingers were currently combing through his strands, your lips tugged up in that soft smile you always wore around him. his head was nestled between your tits, his arms wrapped securely around your waist. one hand travels upwards and rests just under the swell of your breast. he was comfy, really comfy yet his head kept shifting slightly, nose pressing and rubbing against your skin, taking whiffs of your scent. your smile widens.
‘you’re nuzzling’ you point out. he could hear the smile in your voice. he pauses his ministrations and grumbles.
‘am not. shush.’
you giggle, his heart racing at the sound. his own lips curve upwards slightly despite his efforts and he presses a kiss against your collarbone. your hands move from his hair, cupping his face and you lean in to press a kiss against his forehead. he hated how pliable you could turn him with just the smallest bit of affection.
‘i like it. i like when you’re yourself around me.’
he looks at you then, his eyes burning with that quiet intensity that was strictly logan.
‘i’m always myself around you.’
you smile gently and he leans in, closing the distance between your lips. it was soft and sweet, everything logan wasn’t but everything that you deserved. he pulls back first, his lips lingering a little like it physically pained him to break away. he lets out an equally gruff, equally hushed sigh before resting his head back in it’s claimed spot on your chest.
Logan's been gone on a mission for days now. You miss him terribly and one little text spirals into sexting.
logan howlett x fem!reader - inspired by a tiktok i saw, teasing banter, sexting, flirting, established relationship, smut, phone sex, masturbation, orgasms, dirty talk, cocky logan, dominant/possessive logan, pet names used, good girl praising
a/n: horny era entered.
divider credit: @enchanthings
The day had dragged on, each hour stretching longer than the last. Between the endless grind at work, the knot of stress coiling tighter in your chest, and nearly everyone testing the limits of your patience, you felt utterly wrung out. By the time the sun sank below the horizon, all you wanted was to melt into Logan’s arms—strong, steady, and always warm, like they were built to shield you from the rest of the world.
But Logan wasn’t here. He’d been sent off on a mission three days ago with no clear answer to the question that gnawed at you the most: When would he come home? Three days felt like three weeks, and the ache of missing him was a dull, constant hum beneath your skin.
You had done everything you could to fill the space he left behind. His pillow now wore one of his shirts, the fabric soft and faintly infused with his scent. You’d sprayed it with his cologne—too much, honestly, but the sharp, musky notes helped. At night, you’d curl around it, imagining his arms around you instead, but it was never the same. You missed the rough timbre of his voice, the way he’d smirk and toss out some gruff remark that made you laugh. You even missed how his scruff would scrape against your cheek when he kissed you.
Now, you were sprawled across the bed, Logan’s stand-in pillow hugged close as your thumb aimlessly scrolled through your phone. A familiar pang of longing twisted your stomach as you stumbled across a photo of a couple kissing under twinkling lights. You sighed and were about to toss your phone aside when it buzzed in your hand, a new message lighting up the screen.
Logan: I miss you so much, gorgeous.
Your heart clenched, a smile tugging at your lips before you could help it. You quickly typed back:
You: Miss you too, handsome.
Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, the ache of missing him pressing harder than ever. A mischievous thought sparked in your mind, and before you could second-guess yourself, you typed it out.
You: You should send me a photo of your bicep for being gone so long.
The typing bubble appeared almost instantly, and you could practically hear Logan’s low chuckle in your head.
Logan: That so?
Before you could reply, your phone buzzed, and a new image loaded on the screen. The photo made your breath hitch. Logan was sprawled out on what looked like a worn motel bed, his shirt pushed up to his chest, exposing the hard ridges of his abs. But the star of the show was his arm, flexed in a way that showed off every curve of his bicep. The dim lighting cast shadows that deepened the definition of his muscles, and the veins stood out just enough to make your mouth dry.
You swallowed, your face heating as you bit your lip. His usual teasing smirk wasn’t visible in the photo, but you could feel it like it was carved into the very pixels of the screen.
Another message buzzed in.
Logan: Feel better, honey?
You groaned, the grin tugging at your lips both frustrated and helplessly smitten.
You: No. Now I just really want to bite your bicep.
His reply came faster than you expected.
Logan: You’ll have to be patient, sweetheart. But don’t worry, I’ll let you.
Your stomach flipped, heat pooling low in your belly as you stared at his words. God, you could hear his voice so clearly, that deep, teasing rasp that always made your pulse skip.
You: You’re cruel, you know that?
Logan: Cruel would be reminding you how good my hands feel on you. But I won’t do that. Not while I’m stuck in this dump, thinking about what I’d do if I were there instead.
Your breath caught, and your thumb hovered uncertainly over the screen. You could feel the shift in his tone, that familiar heat creeping into his words even through text.
You: What would you do, Logan?
The typing bubble appeared, then disappeared, like he was taking his time to think—or maybe to make you squirm. When his reply finally came, it hit you like a jolt of lightning.
Logan: First, I’d pin you to the bed. Then I’d take my time—slow, deliberate—just to hear you beg. You’d look so good under me, darlin’. I can practically see it.
Your thighs pressed together instinctively, heat rolling through you in waves.
You: You’re not playing fair.
Logan: I never do.
You couldn’t argue with that. Every word, every teasing reply, every memory of his hands on you was like a match to dry kindling, leaving you aching for him in almost unbearable ways. You leaned back against the pillows, closing your eyes as your fingers hovered over your phone, your imagination already running wild.
Before you could think of a reply, your phone buzzed again.
Logan: I miss your body, but you know what I miss more? The way you look at me after. That soft, sleepy, satisfied look, like I’m the only man in the world who can make you feel that way.
Your heart clenched, warmth blooming in your chest and mingling with the heat already simmering there. God, you wanted him so badly it was a physical ache.
You: You’re going to kill me, Logan.
Logan: Nah, honey. Just keeping you hungry for me. Trust me, I’m starving over here too.
His words wrapped around you like a warm, possessive embrace, filling the void he’d left behind. Though hundreds of miles separated you, for a moment, it almost felt like he was there—his rough hands sliding over your skin, his lips grazing that sensitive spot just beneath your jaw, the weight of his body. The ache of missing him was unbearable, pressing hard and heavy in your chest. You buried your face in his pillow, inhaling the faint remnants of his scent, but it only made the longing sharper.
Your thumb hovered over the screen as you finally typed back, giving in to your own need to feel closer to him:
You: I’ve been sleeping with your pillow... making it wear your shirt.
The reply came almost immediately, his words brimming with that familiar mix of teasing and heat that sent a thrill rushing through you.
Logan: Bet you’ve been doing naughty things to it too.
Your breath caught, your face flushing as you stared at the screen. Damn him. How did he always know? He had an almost supernatural ability to read you, even from miles away. You bit your lip, the memory of those late, lonely nights flashing vividly in your mind—the way you’d pressed his pillow between your thighs, imagining it was him, imagining his weight, his heat, his voice in your ear telling you to let go. You knew when he got home, he’d take one deep inhale and know exactly what you’d done.
Your fingers trembled as you typed back, heart pounding.
You: Maybe I have. What are you gonna do about it?
The three little dots of his reply appeared, then disappeared, then reappeared, drawing out the tension until you wanted to scream. When the message finally popped up, it was pure Logan.
Logan: Oh, sweetheart, you know what I’ll do. First, I’ll ask you to tell me exactly what you did. Then I’d make you show me. And I wouldn’t let you stop until you were begging.
Heat shot through your body, pooling low in your belly as you shifted restlessly on the bed. Your lips parted, a soft breath escaping as your imagination ran wild, conjuring the image of him above you, his rough hands and deep voice taking you apart piece by piece.
You glanced at your phone’s camera, a bold idea sparking in your mind. If Logan wanted to play, you’d show him you could hold your own. Slowly, you sat up, slipping the strap of your tank top down one shoulder. The fabric slid lower, exposing more of your skin, and your pulse raced as you positioned the camera just right. The click of the shutter sounded louder than it should have, your heart hammering as you looked at the result—a sultry shot of your bare shoulder, collarbone, and the faintest hint of cleavage.
You attached the photo to the message and typed, fingers trembling slightly:
You: Think you can handle this when you get home?
The response came almost instantly, and it was clear you’d hit your mark.
Logan: Jesus Christ, darlin’!
A second message followed:
Logan: You trying to kill me?
You smirked, a wave of confidence washing over you as you typed back.
You: Just keeping you on your toes. You’re the one who said you’d pin me down, remember?
His reply was a voice note this time, and when you pressed play, the low, gravelly sound of his voice sent a shiver straight through you.
Logan (voice note): Oh, I remember. And trust me when I get back, you won’t be walking straight for days. You keep teasing me like this, and I’m gonna make sure you pay for every second of it.
Your thighs clenched as you listened to the raw hunger in his tone, heat blooming across your skin. But you weren’t done teasing him yet.
You adjusted your tank top a little lower, this time snapping a photo that showed more—the curve of your chest, the line of your neck, the look in your eyes that you knew would drive him wild. You sent it without a caption, letting the image speak for itself.
The reply came in seconds.
Logan: You better not be touching yourself right now. That’s mine.
A thrill ran through you at the possessiveness in his words.
You: What if I am?
Another voice note came through, this one darker. His voice dropped an octave, sending goosebumps racing down your arms.
Logan (voice note): Don’t you dare finish without me, sweetheart. When I get home, you’re going to come on my fingers, my tongue, and then my—
You couldn’t stop the whimper that slipped out as you hit pause, your whole body burning with need.
You: Logan...
Logan: You started this, gorgeous. Don’t get shy on me now.
You sighed, biting your lip as your fingers tightened around your phone. Heat simmered low in your belly, and your heart raced as you debated your next move. Logan was right—you had started this, and now there was no turning back. Your thumb hovered over the screen for a moment, your nerves threatening to get the better of you, but the longing for him—his touch, his voice, the way he looked at you—overpowered everything else.
With a deep breath, you hit the video call button. The screen flickered for a moment, your reflection briefly staring back at you before the call connected. And then there he was.
Logan appeared on your screen, lying back against the headboard of some cheap motel bed. The light in the room was dim, but it did nothing to dull the sharp angles of his jaw or the piercing heat in his eyes. He had one arm tucked lazily behind his head, the other holding the phone, but there was nothing casual about how he looked at you—like he could devour you through the screen.
A slow, almost predatory smirk curved his lips. “There’s my pretty girl. For a second, I thought you’d chickened out.”
You swallowed hard, the sound of his voice making your pulse race. “You’ve got me all flustered,” you admitted, your voice softer than you intended.
Logan’s chuckle was low and rough like gravel sliding over honey. “Sweetheart, you’re the one teasing me,” he said, his gaze raking over you through the screen. “All I did was tell you what I wanted to do when I get home. But if I’m being honest…” His smirk widened, his tongue sliding briefly over his bottom lip. “I don’t think either one of us can wait that long.”
A shiver ran down your spine at his words. He shifted slightly, and the movement made his shirt pull tight across his chest and shoulders, the fabric doing little to hide the hard lines of muscle underneath. You let out a breath.
“Logan…” you whispered, but it came out more like a plea than you intended.
His voice softened, the teasing giving way to something more intimate. “Yeah, darlin’?”
Your fingers gripped the phone tighter as you adjusted the angle, letting the camera catch the way your tank top clung to your body, how the strap had slipped off one shoulder. His eyes darkened instantly, the air between you thickening even through the distance.
“Show me,” he murmured, his tone low and commanding. “You’ve been driving me crazy all night. Now I want to see you, pretty girl. Let me see what’s mine.”
Your breath hitched, heat flooding your cheeks, but how he was looking at you made it impossible to resist. Slowly, your free hand trailed down your neck and over your collarbone, lingering at the edge of your top. His gaze tracked every movement, his jaw clenching as he exhaled heavily.
“Good girl,” he rasped, his voice like a caress. “Keep going.”
You couldn’t help the small, breathy sound that escaped your lips as you let the fabric slide lower, revealing just enough to leave him wanting more. His hand moved slightly on his end of the screen, and you had a pretty good idea of what he was doing.
“Logan,” you breathed, your voice trembling with nervousness and excitement.
“Don’t stop,” he urged, his tone rougher now, filled with a hunger that sent a rush of heat straight through you. “You’re so fucking beautiful. God, I can’t wait to get my hands on you again.”
Your fingers trembled as you slid your tank top down, the cool air brushing over your bare skin, making your breath hitch. Logan’s eyes burned into you through the screen, the teasing smirk on his lips softening into something darker, more primal. His gaze wasn’t just hungry—it was devouring like he wanted to memorize every inch of you even from miles away.
“Goddamn,” he muttered, his voice a low growl that sent shivers racing down your spine. “You’re perfect. Absolutely perfect.”
Your cheeks flushed, heat blooming under his praise, but it only fueled the fire building inside you. Biting your lip, you whispered, “Show me what you’re doing.”
The words came out so soft you weren’t sure he’d heard you, but then his lips curved into a wicked grin that made your stomach flip. “You sure about that, sweetheart?” he asked, his tone rough and teasing.
You nodded, unable to find your voice, your pulse thundering in your ears.
Logan shifted slightly, the phone shaking just enough to make your anticipation climb. He adjusted the angle, tilting the camera lower until the frame revealed the sharp lines of his abs disappearing beneath the waistband of his sweatpants. Your breath caught as he pulled the fabric down just enough to show you the outline of his arousal, his hand wrapped around himself, moving slowly, deliberately.
“See what you do to me?” he muttered, his voice thick with desire. His hand stroked lazily, his movements unhurried, like he wanted you to feel every second of it. “Every damn time, darlin’. I can’t even think straight when it comes to you.”
Your heart stuttered, your thighs pressing together instinctively as heat pooled low in your belly. The sight of him, the way his body tensed with every stroke, the way his breath hitched as he watched you—it was almost too much.
“Logan…” you breathed, your voice trembling with need.
“Keep going,” he rasped, his eyes flickering back up to meet yours. They were dark and intense, filled with raw hunger. “I want to see all of you, gorgeous. Don’t hold back on me now.”
Your free hand drifted down your body with deliberate slowness, tracing the curves of your waist and the soft plane of your stomach, until your fingertips brushed the waistband of your underwear. The fabric felt impossibly delicate under your touch, and your breath hitched as you let your fingers linger there, teasing both yourself and him.
Logan’s eyes burned through the screen, dark and hungry, following every movement of your hand. His jaw tightened, and you saw the flex of his arm as his strokes grew just a bit faster, his breath hitching in rhythm. The tension between you was unbearable, a crackling heat that made the distance between you feel almost cruel.
“Don’t stop,” Logan rasped, his voice rough and uneven. “I need to see you. All of you.”
The raw need in his voice sent a shiver racing through you, your pulse pounding as you slowly tilted the phone. The angle shifted, and the screen filled with the sight of your bare skin, the way your hand dipped beneath the fabric of your underwear, teasing at the heat there. A soft, breathless sound slipped from your lips as your fingers began to move, exploring yourself with slow, deliberate strokes.
Logan groaned a low, guttural sound that sent a wave of heat washing over you. “Fuck, darlin’,” he muttered, his voice thick with need. His phone shifted slightly, and your eyes flicked to the screen to see his hand moving more urgently now, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. “You’re so goddamn beautiful. Look at you… so wet for me.”
The heat of his words made your thighs tremble as your body arched instinctively, your hand moving in sync with the rising tension in his voice. The soft, wet sounds of your fingers moving against your slick heat filled the air between you, and you bit your lip, trying—and failing—to muffle the needy whimper that escaped.
“That’s it, good girl,” Logan growled, his tone both commanding and reverent. “Don’t hold back. I want to hear you. I want to see what I do to you.”
Your phone slipped slightly in your trembling hand, but you steadied it, angling it just enough to give him the view he craved. His reaction was instant—a sharp intake of breath, followed by a string of curses muttered under his breath.
“You’re gonna kill me,” he groaned, his hand faltering for a moment as he dragged his free hand through his hair, his head falling back against the headboard. “I can’t fucking wait to get my hands on you.
Your breath hitched, and you couldn’t stop the soft whimper that escaped your lips. “What would you do, Logan?” you asked in a shaky whisper.
His eyes darkened further, his expression turning almost feral. “I’d start by kissing you everywhere,” he growled. “Slow, soft, until you’re trembling for me. Then I’d pin your wrists above your head, hold you still so you’d have to feel every second of it while screaming my name.”
Your head fell back against the pillows as his words washed over you, the heat in his voice lighting up every nerve in your body.
“Keep touching yourself, sweetheart,” he urged, his tone both commanding and coaxing. “Such a good girl for me.”
His words pushed you closer to the edge, the ache in your body growing unbearable as your fingers moved faster, your breaths coming in soft, uneven gasps. “Logan,” you whimpered, his name a broken plea on your lips.
“Come for me,” he demanded, his voice low and rough like he could feel your tension through the screen. “I want to see it. I want to watch you fall apart for me.”
“You’re killing me,” you managed to whisper, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.
His lips curved into a crooked, breathless smile. “You started it, gorgeous,” he said, his voice rough and uneven now. “And when I get home, I’m gonna finish it. Properly.”
The promise in his tone sent a fresh wave of heat through you, your body aching for him in ways that words couldn’t begin to describe. But for now, this was all you had—his voice, his eyes on you, the sound of his breath growing heavier as the two of you shared this moment across the distance.
“Logan…” you whimpered again, your body arching as you felt yourself reaching the edge.
“Let go for me. Good girl,” he murmured, his voice softening but losing none of its intensity. “Show me how good I make you feel.”
The heat in his tone, the intensity of his gaze, the way his hand was moving on himself—it all pushed you over the edge. Your body tensed, a sharp gasp slipping from your lips as the wave of release crashed over you, your hand faltering as you rode it out. Logan groaned deeply, his own release following seconds after, his head falling back as his chest heaved.
For a few moments, the two of you were silent, your breaths filling the space between you. Logan was the first to speak, his voice softer now, tinged with satisfaction and lingering desire. “Goddammit,” he muttered, his voice husky and low. “You’re gonna be the death of me, darlin’.”
You laughed breathlessly, your body still buzzing, your heart full. “I could say the same about you, handsome,” you teased, though your voice was still shaky.
He shook his head, his eyes softening as they locked onto yours through the screen. “You better be ready,” he said, his tone playful but underlined with a seriousness that made your stomach flip. “Because when I get back, I’m not letting you out of my sight—or my bed—for a very, very long time.”
“Promise?” you asked, your lips curving into a lazy, satisfied smile.
Logan’s grin turned wicked, his eyes gleaming. “Oh, it’s not a promise. It’s a guarantee.”
An important thing to note is that Logan is not human! Yes, he looks human but he isn't. He is a feral mutant. He is his own species.
My theory how the feral mutants were created is that they evolved from canines and mustelids rather than apes. So alongside the Neanderthals they were these beings and they carried the X-Gene and mated with the modern human thus creating the mutants that Logan's paternal side of the family descends from.
And Logan has a lot of animals qualities. He has claws, little fangs and is nocturnal. He hunts and has keen senses. Yes, he is civilized from living among humans but trigger him enough and he will growl at you.
And Wade accepts that. He accepts Logan for who and what he is, rather than tell him what he should and shouldn't be. (Unlike Kayla and Stryker cough cough) And Logan finally learns to love himself, something he hasn't done in all his lifetime
Wade would start holding hands with Logan as a joke, but Logan would refuse to let go.
Wade just thought it would be a funny gag and that Logan would shake him off, like he did in the void. After all, there's no way Logan would actually be willing to hold his hand in public. He tolerates Wade's antics, but that's it.
But... Logan lets him? Holds his hand tighter, even, gripping it firmly. Wade looks over, confused, only to see a small content smile on Logan's face. It makes his heart skip a beat.
When they get to a fence that cuts through the road, Wade is sure that he'll have to let go. He silently mourns the warmth of Logan's hand in his. But Logan doesn't let go. He just raises his arm above the fence and they keep holding hands over it.
When they get to a pole in the middle of the sidewalk, Logan pulls Wade in closer and they just barely manage to squeeze past it. Hand-holding still intact.
Even when they get to the grocery store, Logan has one hand on the shopping cart and one hand in Wade's. He lets go of the shopping cart to grab ingredients, and Wade has to help him with his free hand.
It's awkward to contort around each other when bagging their food and checking out, but they manage. They carry all of the bags in their free hand, loading them onto their free arms. Wade has never been more glad for his strength.
They keep holding hands all the way to the apartment, and they only let go once they're inside to put the groceries away. And then Logan's pulling him onto the couch beside him and putting an arm around his shoulder and Wade is the one who has to fight a giddy smile, this time.
(Without fail, they hold hands every time they go out together after this. Logan even initiates it, most of the time, as if something would be fundamentally wrong with the world if he couldn't cling on to Wade the second they stepped outside.
Logan had been about to reach out for Wade's hand right before Wade grabbed his. When Logan felt Wade's palm slot against his, it was like coming home all over again.)
At first Logan is convinced Wade is a morning person. It's both annoying and endearing, but that's how most things are with Wade. He's way too cheerful and talkative whenever they have to be somewhere before 9 in the morning but also will almost always have coffee ready for Logan when he finally emerges from his beauty sleep. Sometimes there's even not half-bad breakfast waiting for him.
With time, though, Logan realises that Wade doesn't really sleep. At all.
He will go to bed in the evening, but it seems like it's mostly so they can cuddle or to humour Logan. He barely gets any sleep at night, most days he just lies there staring at Logan or his phone or he, very quietly, so not to disturb Logan, gets up and goes to do his own things.
Unlike Logan, who, despite always being grumpy when Wade calls him that, actually is an old man who loves his sleep, Wade doesn't have any routine. He will catch an hour or two at night sometimes, but mostly he just crashes down whenever his body has had enough, and if he's lucky he'll get a solid 4 or 5 hours of uninterrupted sleep.
When Logan realises he tries to talk to Wade about it, but it's one of these things that he just brushes aside like it's not a problem at all.
But it is.
Especially when Logan is hit with the fact that he definitely woke up Wade from his slumber more times than he cares to admit, thinking Wade was just being lazy or didn't want to do whatever he was supposed to or what they agreed on.
Sometimes when these moments happen after a mission and they're both tired he will offer Wade "a nap" together to actually get him in bed, even if it's not Logan's bedtime yet.
He already knows that talking about it won't do shit, so instead he tries to pay more attention to these moments. When he can sense Wade is more tired than usual he will cancel any plans they might have had, making up an excuse so Wade doesn't feel like it's on him. When Wade is asleep, Logan will do everything not to wake him up, also making sure others won't bother him. Silencing Wade's phone, offering to go shopping with Al or taking both her and Mary for a walk.
More times than not Logan will also do anything that Wade mentioned having to do that day, because he notices that whenever Wade crashes, he later feels bad about not keeping his word, either to Logan or Al, or to himself.
It takes Wade an embarrassingly long to notice the change, only when he starts to feel like he actually rested whenever he wakes up. He hasn't felt this good in ages, healing factor or not.
When he finally realises it's all Logan's doing he actually cries. He immediately goes to hug Logan harder than ever and just says "I love you, too".
A/N: this is basically smut😩, set in the late 70s, ex!logan (pre-break up), 20+ f!reader, dark!logan, jealous!logan, mentions of violence, heavily suggestive content, smut, dom!logan, loss of virginity, fingering, oral f!receiving, thigh fucking, protected sex:)
For the life of him, Logan cannot remember what the hell he was doing in Collegetown, Ithaca when he first saw you. All he could recall was seeing you bent over in a dress picking up the contents of your bag and some books which were scattered on the sidewalk. He knew he simply had to pull over and help out the pretty girl clearly in distress. Logan became obsessed with you from that moment; obsessed with that flirty smile, those big innocent eyes that looked up at him willfully, your full lips that felt so nice against his cheek when you kissed him goodbye after he had driven you back to your dorm.
“Can I come see you again?” Logan asked as he leaned against your door frame, having insisted that he walk you to your room for safety, and you bit your bottom lip while grinning.
Initially, you had thought about refusing because you shouldn’t be messing around with a man like Logan. You were still young and easily influenced, you knew this about yourself, and Logan seemed like the type to mess around with a girl and disappear. However, you were at the butt end of a rebellious streak which was lucky for him.
“You know where I stay.” You tease, toying with the chain around his neck. You figured, at the very least, it would be a fun fling to reminisce about later on in your well-adjusted life.
Logan comes into your day to day like a hurricane. He shifts everything, disrupts all of your plans. You have been flirted with before, you have been asked out on dates, but Logan acted as if you already belonged to him. And it is easy to fall into that role when he makes it so pleasant for you.
“Lo,” You moan his name softly as he’s running his tongue through the dip in your collarbone. You’re messing around in the late afternoon, pinned down to your little bed by his heavy build as he’s marking your neck, pawing at your bare thighs while he is grinding the hard denim bulge between his legs into the crotch of your panties. “I-I have to study. I h-ave that tes-t tomorrow.” You struggle to speak without letting on how good his mouth and hands are making you feel. Your shaky fingers are fisting his white t-shirt by the shoulders, your legs shifting so desperately that the soft insides of your thighs are rubbing against his waist and causing his shirt to ride up.
Supposedly, Logan had just stopped by to check in on you, like usual. The coffee he brought sat cold on your desk now after he claimed that the sight of you in your pleated skirt was simply too appetizing to resist. You had never been described as appetizing, it made your face warm and impossible to stop him as he kissed you. Now, your skirt somewhere on the floor, you were in a compromising situation.
“Five more minutes.” Logan begs, completely enamored with the way you smell right now as you’re getting hot and heavy with him. The scent of your arousal is thick, like warm honey, and it’s making his mouth water. You feel him drool a little against your chest as his tongue laps over your collarbones and your core pulses at the feeling of his wet muscle running over your skin so desperately. “Let me eat it?” He asks with a cheeky smile that you feel against your neck and you shake your head. “C’mon, baby doll, I’ll make you cum fast.” He promises, already sliding his palms along your thighs and hooking his fingers into the waistband of your lace panties.
“Logan, we don’t have a condom.” You say in an attempt to remind him that you aren’t ready yet and also refusing to be caught in your dorm room with a man old enough to be your father.
You know they see him here, though. He’s not exactly hard to miss with his tall frame, broad shoulders, and that menacing scowl. You know it’s true when he tells you they all know he’s only here for you. No one says anything because it’s Logan, and he has a way of getting what he wants.
And the only thing he wants is you.
“I don’t need to fuck you, doll,” He smirks as he kisses your chest over the knitted material of your short sleeve top. “I just need a taste.” He whispers into the valley of your breasts and you find yourself giving in with a hushed ‘be quick’ as he buries his face between your thighs. His tongue laps languidly over your pulsing slit with no intention of making you finish quickly at all, this was for him. Tasting you, making you writhe from the force of two orgasms, hearing his name fall out of your lips with an anguished cry was all a reward for his own exceptionally strong will to not flip you over and fuck you dumb.
Logan knew you were a virgin. However, you weren’t the shy type of virgin, you were the stuck up kind that would only reward him with your cunt when he proved himself worthy. It was a game he was all too excited to play having been with plenty of women that were far too easy to get with - Logan liked that you were a challenge.
“Can’t wait to make this pussy mine.” He breathes against the inside of your thigh, panting heavily from having spent a continuous, uninterrupted half hour between your legs. It was a pleasure unlike any you had ever experienced, your thighs were still trembling with aftershocks, a light sheen of sweat on your forehead and your neck which he was licking off as he moved up the bed.
“Logan,” You laugh softly, overstimulated by the feeling of his beard on your neck as it now tickles, and you push on his strong chest, curling your fingers into the chain hanging off his chest. “Quit it, I really need to study now.” You insist, looking up at him with pleading eyes that made it hard for him to say no.
The taste of you is still prominent on his tongue as he licks along your bottom lip, kissing you hungrily, and you shudder as his knuckles brush against your wet folds, still incredibly sensitive. “You know you have the prettiest little pussy, princess?” He murmurs, biting softly on your lip and you sigh as his thick fingers prod at your entrance, circling the rim of your opening and collecting your slick arousal on the pads of his fingers. “All mine.”
You knew you were developing deep feelings for him, you knew your resolve to keep your virginity was crumbling with every kiss and every touch. Logan wasn’t pressuring you, he wasn’t rushing you, but he was so intense with the way he showed his affection, it often blurred the lines of your consent.
While he never asked to fuck you, he asked to do other things that he promised weren’t the same. “Wait,” You hesitate as he’s lifting your skirt up and his bare chest is pressed to your back. You hear the metal buckle of his belt being undone and a shiver runs down your spine. “I don’t know about this.” You say before a gasp leaves your lips as the head of his cock brushes against your bare ass after he had pushed your panties down so they’re around your ankles now, draped over your sneakers.
His hands slide around to the front of your belly underneath your sweater and he pushes you backwards into his large body, his lips kiss your temple and your cheek and you bite your lip as he bites on your earlobe and whispers, “I won’t put it in, baby doll, I promise.” One of his hands slides down your belly to your mound and the tip of his middle finger lightly caresses your clit making you whine. “Trust me, yeah?” His middle finger dips into your core for a moment, circling your entrance and making you wet with arousal. “Open your mouth.” He says as your head rests back onto his shoulder from the way he is petting your pussy.
“Logan,” You murmur, chewing on your lip while he pulls your sweater off, and you shouldn’t have let him, but you like the way his large hand smooths up your front and squeezes your tit gently. Logan then wraps his hand around your throat, his thumb caressing your jaw as he kisses your pulse point. “You’re a bad influence.”
Two of his fingers press down on your tongue as you part your lips and you feel him grow harder against your backside as you close your mouth around his thick digits and instinctively begin to suck on them. “Fuck, just like that.” He praises while kissing your neck, the heat between your legs growing until he pops his fingers out of your mouth and then reaches between your legs. You take in a sharp breath as he guides his cock to nestle in the little triangle between your thighs and your mound. Logan uses your saliva to wet the tip and he starts thrusting slowly, his cock easily sliding through your wet folds.
“Oh,” You moan in realization of what he meant now, and you let yourself indulge in the pleasure because this surely isn’t the same as sex, but it certainly feels filthier. “Mm, Logan!” You cum quick the first time, embarrassingly quick, your thighs quaking from the intensity of your premature release, your back arching as he kisses your neck lewdly whispering his praise and you’re taken be surprise as he simply keeps going.
“Is this okay, princess?” Logan asks as he’s got you bent over your desk now, his bare cock pumping through your thighs which his hands are firmly squeezing together, sliding against your slit while you’re moaning and trembling from the way his swollen head nudges your clit.
“Yes, it’s okay.” You whisper shakily because it is so intimate, so close to being something you’re not ready for, but not quite. Logan can’t stand the way your ass looks so perfect perched out like this for him, it takes every bit of self restraint not to force himself in you, but he promised. His lips press soft open mouth kisses to your shoulder as he squeezes your thighs and rubs circles on the backs of them with his thumbs. Your hands are planted firmly on the desk as his hips slam into your ass repeatedly, the jiggle of your flesh pulling erotic grunts and groans from him that make your belly bloat with butterflies. Your legs tremble with the warning of another release and you let your head fall forward as the euphoric waves wash over you again, your core increasingly wetter as he continues to rub his cock against you.
“Does it feel good, baby?” He asks breathlessly, watching every muscle in your body spasm underneath him with a smug smirk.
“Yes.” You choke out, watching as his cock throbs warningly in the nook of your plush thighs and suddenly he spurts his cum onto your desk. Your mouth falls slightly open as his tip leaks and his body jolts against you. His heavy chest hunches over yours, pushing you into the spill of his seed so it coats your belly and you whine as he keeps thrusting, his fingers digging painfully into your thighs. “Oh, my god!” You gasp as your clit aches from the two previous orgasms that already ripped through your nerve endings and you’re certain that you can’t take another. “Logan, stop!” He grunts as he takes a step back, hands still on your hips as he steadies himself.
When he lets go of you, your skirt falls back into place and you shyly cover your exposed breasts before you turn to look at him. He’s breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling as he stuffs his cock back into his jeans. His eyes land back on you and he sighs as he pins you between the filthy desk and his heated body, his cum which is still on your tummy sticking to the both of you. “You drive me up the goddamn wall, you know that?” He breathes against your lips as he kisses you sloppily and you moan. “You’re mine.”
You were undoubtedly his girl, he made sure everyone knew it by leaving marks on your body that were difficult to cover up. He would stroll onto campus and make a beeline straight to your room, a smug look on his face when he left because he knows everyone heard you crying his name, and he didn’t even fuck you. But the thrill of belonging to him didn’t last long as Logan became incredibly possessive. So much so that it caused problems with your school and your classmates.
One of your professors, one of the more forward professors known to keep certain female students after class, mentioned having some concerns about the man you were seeing. “Oh, we’re not really - uh - he’s just a friend.” You say, suddenly aware of the fact that you’ve let Logan cross more lines than you would an actual boyfriend and you’re wondering what that makes you to him as your professor shares his trepidations.
“It just seems he’s a little old for you, sweetheart.” Your professor says, placing a hand on your shoulder, rubbing it gently, and you don’t like how the name ‘sweetheart’ comes out of his mouth so easily and you stiffen at his touch because it’s not Logan.
Only Logan can touch you.
“With all due respect,” You say as you shrug off his hand and take a step back. “It’s not really any of your business.” You tell him, grabbing your bag from your chair and leaving without a look back.
You don’t mention the interaction to Logan who comes over that very night. It doesn’t matter to you and you don’t want to spend your time together doing anything but being with him. You’re sitting in his lap as you’re reading aloud through the material for your English class while he’s kissing your bare shoulder, having talked you out of your sweater so you were left in a thin camisole. His hands are caressing your thighs and hips slowly, humming as you make a comment about the reading. These moments are sweet, and you feel so close to him, you almost consider him a boyfriend. There’s a sudden knocking on your room door and you look at it in confusion before looking at Logan over your shoulder.
“Come in.” Logan calls decidedly and your face warms up as you pull up the thin strap of your white camisole while the door opens. Your professor is standing in the doorway and Logan immediately lifts you up so he can get out of the chair. Your heart pounds hard as Logan walks over to your teacher who was clearly not expecting Logan to be here as he lets out a surprised, ‘oh’ while he is roughly shoved into the hallway. “Yeah, oh,” Logan mocks your professor as you hurry after them. “You looking for something, pal?”
“Logan, wait.” You try only to be shrugged off by him.
His eyes are burning with anger, and you fear there is nothing that can stop him now, you can only look up and down the hallway hoping no one stumbles upon what you pray doesn’t become an ugly incident. “What the hell are looking for in here?” Logan demands as he pins your professor to the wall and you cover your mouth as Logan cocks back a fist. “Trying to get your dick wet?”
“I-I’m just check-checking on her.” Your professor stammers, looking apprehensively at Logan and you gasp as you watch bones suddenly protrude from his fists. Your professor’s eyes go wide and he shakes his head. “Don’t! I’m sorry. I’ll leave, please. I’m so sorry.”
Logan gets real close to his face as he snarls, “You don’t check on her, you don’t even look at her. Got it, Teach?” Your professor nods quickly, desperately, and Logan steps back to watch him fall onto the floor and scurry onto his feet as he rushes out of the dorm building.
Your eyes meet his darkened hazel irises as he turns around and you swallow hard as you fold your arms over your middle protectively, eyeing his fist as he walks back to you. “You okay?” You ask him.
“Didn’t mean for you to find out like this.” He said as the claws retracted and he felt fearful of how you would take it. This was the first time he ever cared what someone would think of him, feared that they might view him differently, and only because it was you. He couldn’t be without you, he knew that much.
“It’s not an issue for me.” He hears you say as you gently take his hand and bring him back into your room. “You don’t have to be so aggressive.” You tell him as you close the door behind you and gently wrap your arms around his neck, forcing yourself on your toes as he pushes you against the door and kisses you. “I’m yours, right?” You find yourself asking against his kiss and he nods slowly as he picks you up and carries you to the bed.
Logan had promised you he’d never keep anything from you that night, he promised every part of himself to you. Every truth, ugly or otherwise.
So you gave yourself to him in return.
Perhaps it was because of how protective he had been, in a sick way it aroused you. Maybe a part of you did like how possessive he could be, how he made you feel incredibly precious to him, how he would threaten to hurt anyone that made you uncomfortable. It brought out a side of you that you didn’t recognize because you were usually quite independent and had no problems speaking up for yourself. With Logan, you don’t mind all that much that he speaks for you, fights for you. You feel protected with him, safe.
After watching him roll a condom onto his erect shaft, he settles on top of you and you invite him into your arms with a whispered ‘I love you’ which makes his heart swell. Logan watches your expressions carefully as his thick cock splits you open for the first time. His movements are slow and calculated, his arms caging you in, taking his time so that you won’t feel as much pain because he doesn’t ever want to hurt you, not you. His lips meet yours in a soft kiss as you whimper, your hands are pressed to his thick chest, fingernails digging into his flesh as he begins pumping his cock in and out of you with a satisfied groan. “I love you, princess.” Logan sighs as he gently takes your virginity.
The morning after, Logan knew he was pussy whipped. There was no way in hell he could be without you. Your soft giggles made him smile as he peppered your neck with kisses in the morning haze filling your room and he promised he’d be back with coffee as he got dressed. Logan knew himself, he knew he was too invested in you, and he knew what his obsession could turn him into, but he didn’t care.
Ideally, everything would’ve turned out happily ever after from there. However, your world is quickly proven it be anything but a storybook. Logan became far more possessive than was excusable, even by the standards of love. It caused more fights between the two of you and Logan never seemed to take you seriously when you told him he needed to change.
“You can’t just show up on campus and walk around looking for me, Logan.” You scold him as you hurry into your dorm room with him on your tail, you don’t even try to slam the door in his face knowing that he could easily break it down. “It’s a security issue.”
Logan scoffs as he watches you toss your bag on your desk and you rub the inner corner of your eyes with your pinched fingers. “Maybe if that asshole RA would stop hitting on you, I wouldn’t have to show up.” He says, walking over to you, noting your teary eyes as he gathers your tired body in his arms. “Doll, I just care about you so much.” He whispers as he kisses that spot on your neck that makes you melt with desire. “I can’t stand the thought of someone trying to take you from me.” He whispers, hands roaming underneath your top.
“No one’s trying to take me from you, Logan.” You sigh, wrapping your arms around his neck as he walks you to your bed. You try to understand that he’s just a passionate person, that he just loves intensely. “You’re going to get me in trouble, or expelled.” You murmur while he lifts you up with ease, your legs instinctively wrapping around him.
“‘M sorry, princess,” He says as he lays you down and rests on top of you. His lips never leave your neck or collarbones as he undoes your jeans. “Let me make it up to you.”
Fortunately, you were still on track to graduate; just barely as Logan had done a fine job of keeping you distracted from your school work and scaring half your dorm building all the way through to your third year of college. Not that you were very good at drawing boundaries with him, always letting him get his way even when you knew it wouldn’t be beneficial for you in the long run.
Your junior year of college comes around and you wonder how much longer you can keep handling his intensity. You’ll be okay for a few months, your days together filled with constant sex and sweet moments. And then he gets bouts of jealousy that make him incredibly frustrating to deal with, he’ll stir up trouble or pick fights with your male classmates or professors until you tell him you’ve had enough. And then he apologizes, he kisses you until you can’t stay mad, and he promises he’ll change.
But he never does.
The other morning in your dorm, Logan had nearly beaten one of your classmates within an inch of his life when he saw the guy leaving your room. You were warned that he was not to return to campus, you were told how fatal it could have been had you and three others not pulled Logan off your friend who had simply been returning a textbook to you. That was a side of him that was far too intense for you to ignore. Logan had a sense of entitlement towards you that wasn’t normal, and it scared you.
“Don’t,” Logan’s blocking his apartment door and your eyes are filled with tears as you’re standing in front of him with your bag. “Don’t leave, please.”
“I don’t have the strength for this anymore, Logan.” You tell him with a trembling voice, clutching tightly onto the bag hanging off your shoulder that contains the few items you’ve left at his place on the weekends. “It’s too much. We rushed into this way too fast and I just can’t see a way for it to work.”
Your words feel like you were forcing him to swallow a rock and he turns to punch the door swiftly in a fit of rage before moving away from it and you hurry out, terrified as you stifle a sob.
There wasn’t a single thing that could have prepared you for the side of Logan that came out after the break up. You thought he was possessive when he had you, but after losing you, he became someone you didn’t recognize.
🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀
This was much, much longer when I finished it, so I have broken it up into two chapters, maybe three🫣 Let me know what you thought!
Hurricane II
A/N: set in late 70s, ex!logan, 20+ f!reader, dark!logan, stalker!logan, angst, smut, sexual harassment (not by logan), brief violence, fing
Thinking about how Deadpool and Wolverine are the go to too get dirty jobs done. Obviously Deadpool is a mercenary, but Wolverine while being an X-Man isn't like the others. He will do the dirty jobs and get his hands dirty I mean what's a little more blood on the ocean that's already there?
Then lamenting to one another about it how they wonder if that is all they are worth/good for.
Do you think the others understand them? Do they understand the burdens they carry?
They understand each other in ways no one else can in ways other then being immortal. They are both weapons in so many ways and no one else could ever truly grasp the situation they are in the lives they have lived.
Summary: You can't sleep so you decide to mess with Logan.
A/N: I love writing about somnophilia, it's so fun. Hope you all enjoy!
Prev *✧･ﾟ: Next
Kinktober '24 Masterlist
You couldn't sleep.
You were tossing and turning for a few hours, noticing the clock showing 3 in the morning. Your body was getting warm due to the body heat of your husband beside you. Logan was on his back, arm under your head as he snored towards the ceiling. Usually, his loud snores were enough to soothe you to sleep, but not this time.
You turned towards his sleeping frame, watching his chest slowly rise and lower in a steady rhythm. He looked at peace. Not once dealing with the bullshit in his life. You admire his hairy arms, his broad chest making an outline through his white tank top, and the-oh—a tent under the sheets.
Pulling them down, there's an imprint of Logan's cock against his pajama pants. It was random. Your man had no clue what was going on.
You stared at his erection as if you hadn't seen it a million times. That same fluttering feeling formed between your legs and you started getting a thought. You two talked about playing with each other while the other was asleep. Both agreeing to try it out. You never thought you had a reason to pounce on Logan as he slept, but now you do.
Your eyes never left the tent when your fingers reached down below your waistline. Under your pajama shorts, rubbing along your folds then inserting a finger inside. You bit your bottom lip as you fingered yourself, not wanting to make so much noise to disturb his rest. Your middle finger doing a horrible job not pushing against your walls like his dick did, but enough to get you wet. Logan would comment on your soaked pussy, eager to get more from you. He could be so impatient at how he tugged your underwear before mouthing at your cunt. Or watching himself slide his length against you, groaning at your wetness.
Once you were slick enough, you pulled off your shorts and tossed them to the side.
Logan still wasn't disturbed by the way he didn’t move a muscle during your movements. Even as you pulled down his pants, watching his cock spring free. Standing tall and proud, waiting for you to make the first move. You licked your lips, deciding to get a quick taste first.
Your husband stiffened when you wrapped your mouth around his tip. That caused you to freeze, hoping he didn't wake up and see him in your mouth. To your relief, he didn't. You continued by taking more of him. The tip of your nose against his hair, saliva coating his shaft as you slowly bobbed your head up and down. Some of his pre cum coating your tongue.
“Shit…” Logan swore under his breath and you froze once more. Him halfway down your throat only to hear more snoring.
You keep going, not wanting to get greedy and pick up the pace. Accidentally making Logan come down your throat while you still needed attention was not ideal. When you part from him, a string of saliva connects to his shaft. Logan’s brows furrow as the cool air forms around his cock.
You dipped your fingers inside once more, humming at your sex being wet enough to your liking. With some of your arousal on your fingers, you stroked him. His cock shining in the moonlight from a mix of your wetness and spit, focused on every vein that decorated his shaft. How pre cum leaked from his tip, helping you gather more lubrication to stroke him with. His tip red from the treatment.
As carefully as you could, you hovered above him. The bed creaked from the pressure, almost loud enough to stir him awake. Although a sigh of relief escaped you when he didn't wake up. You angled his cock before sinking down onto him. Shaky breaths escape you while Logan hisses at the sudden contact. You held everything in your power to not moan loudly, despite how his cock hit a nice spot against your walls.
“Don’t wake up, Lo’…” You shushed, “I'm making you feel good.”
You slowly raised your hips, enough for only his tip to be inside before sliding back down. Your hands on his chest for stability. Bouncing up and down on him wasn't ideal, considering your goal. But it set a delicious pace for you while he stretched you out. A nice burn to your core.
Logan's groans came out low, matching the volume of your own moans as you couldn't be quiet any longer. His arm moves as if he’s searching for you, but stays still at another raise of your hips. Your eyes in the back of your head as you lower back down. You start wondering if he's waking up by the way his hips start to meet yours. Snores nonexistent, and his face frowned in concentration.
Your pace starting to get desperate, hand over your mouth to hide your sobs. Your finger sloppily rubbing your clit. A climax rapidly arrived as your body tensed, low cries escaping you. Your cunt molding around Logan's dick like a glove. To prolong your orgasm, you uneasily kept moving up and down, just enough for his seed to coat your insides.
You crashed along his chest, hearing his strained grunts as he unloaded in you. The sounds of crickets added to the atmosphere of your heavy breathing, trying to get yourselves together.
“Sugar?” Logan called his voice hinting at exhaustion.
“Hm?”
“Did you…did I just…?” He glanced down, seeing he was still inside you.
“I couldn't go back to sleep. Thought this was the best way…” It was his turn to hum, burying his face on your head. “Was I able to make you feel good?”
“Oh yeah.” He chuckles, kissing your forehead, “Definitely.”
Wade Winston Wilson and Tony 'I am Iron man' Stark
I think a lot of people forget just how incredibly smart Deadpool is. This man was in the special forces, You dont get there by being stupid. Now, I know he was discharged but still. It's been proven over and over again that this man can put together an amazing plan and is a very quick thinker- Now:
Give me Wade who knows how everyone sees him, Stupid, loud, annoying and lets them think that way.
Give me Wade who's scared of showing that he can have a coherent thought even after the mutation and after his brain broke and after he started talking to audience. because he's built this facade and it's easier for everyone to expect nothing from him then for them to expect everything because he's scared.
Give me Wade whos scared of rejection from not only his friends and family but his coworkers and those he looks up to so he plays the dumb card and the crazy card and he plays it well
Give me Wade who thinks with his hands
Give me Wade who has very precise hand signals, Some that came over from his special ops days and some that he's made up for himself, to think because his brain is so loud he has to voice every thought or at least make it physical in some way so he doesnt forget it
Give me someone who learns his hand signals and uses that to put his ideas into place
(backtracking to my later post about Iron man and Deadpool respecting each other)
Give me Tony who notices his hand signals and little drawings on the edge of his notepad and voices them for Wade like their his own ideas, Not out of malice or because he wants to steal them but because he believes in Wade and knows he's a smart man
Give me Tony who keeps Deadpool behind in meetings to ask for his opinion on the matter and implements that into his plan as well because you cant tell me Wade doesnt know the best way to infiltrate a highly secured base.
Give me Wade who's eyes light up everytime his plan works because he's forgotten how smart he actually is
Give me Tony who learns Wades hand signs and uses them in battle, like a secret code to each other
Give me the others confused by why Tony and Wade are just staring at each other only for Tony to turn to them and tell them they're changing their entire plan
Give me Logan or anyone really walking in on one of Wade and Tonys private chats to see Wade, map out, little marks via figurines that Tony made (They're replicas of everyone on the team to help Deadpool visualize better), giving precise and logical ideas and Tony just nodding along
Let it be Tony and Wades secret that he's not stupid. He's a smart guy, smarter than a lot of people but the pressure of being smart never appealed to him
Give me Wade who asks questions about Tonys tech and Tony asking questions about Deadpools healing factor
Give me Tony who allows Deadpool into his lab and lets the man watch him until he falls asleep and Tony just draps a blanket over him
Give me Wade and Tony who are two very intelligent but broken people understanding each other and having the others back when no one else will.
Okay, now I need something about bf!logan and his girl making a porno (bonus points if wade finds out after the show they put on for him and that man is willing to RISK IT ALL to see that sex tape😩🤣)
cw: porn link; f!reader; smut; consensual filming during sex; slight sexting at the end // divider by @/plutism!
this is definitely the porno they were making <3
logan has you on your knees, your ass dimpling with every one of his greedy caresses, his heavy hand kneading your flesh. you’re whining to be creampied—to be bred—and logan indulges you with a quiet chuckle because you’re so adorable like this, all needy and demanding, babbling nothing but nonsense because he’s fucked you to the point of incoherence.
you jut out your chin at his croon. he tells you to do it yourself if you really want his cum; says that you’ve got to show him how much you need it.
“an’ here i thought i was bein’ a gentleman,” logan says, sighing in that what-can-you-do? tone like he hadn’t been fucking you so hard, you were sure that the condom was on the brink of ripping.
you grumble, rolling your eyes even mid-tears, before reaching back to where he’s got his cock rutting along the cleft of your ass. you give it a stroke, giggling breathily to yourself at its sheer girth and weight, before sliding your hand down to the pinched tip and tugging.
logan moans, and it rumbles deep, sending tingles to rise from the tips of your toes to the base of your neck. he sounds just a little too excited, and you wonder how you must look as you reach for the rubber, tugging it off the expanse of his cock. do you look desperate, the camera capturing the way you’re shivering like you’re on cum-withdrawals? or do you look like the brat that you are, whining how sex is not enough until logan’s pumping you full of his sperm?
god, the thought that this moment is being immortalized makes you clench at nothing, your hole puckering as it waits to be filled.
the condom comes off with a pop, the rubber snapping off and into itself. it sounds so lewd and dirty, like the two of you are really starring in a corny porno, and it fills your cheeks with warmth as your need wanes in the face of your shyness.
you fling the condom to the side, before burrowing your face on the pillows, as though that alone can hide the palpable hunger rippling from you. logan laughs at your reaction like he’s not softly humping his cock between your thighs, rutting it along the wet mess he’s made out of your cunt.
“y’ready, bub?” logan asks, still giddy with his laugh. you grumble a reply, before jutting your head in a stilted nod.
he taps his weeping cock along your folds, testing, and you shuffle in your impatience. you feel the itch exploding, the need to be stuffed bloating, but logan continues to tease and god, pleasepleaseplease—
“i’ve got you, darl,” he grunts, then he’s pushing in, steady and filling, and, and—
the moan that’s ripped from your throat sounds foreign, like you’re a damn wounded animal. you don’t even get to adjust to his width—pussy lips going taut at his thickness—before logan’s drawing his cock out until all that’s left is the head. there’s a bated breath that you two share, leaving you suspended in anticipation, then he’s bullying it back in.
you flop on the bed, all useless now like you’ve got your strings cut loose. logan doesn’t seem to mind, not with the consistent ringing slaps of his pelvis meeting your ass echoing in your quaint room. god, your brain’s being scrambled right now, you’re sure, because you can’t even think of anything but logan—
loganloganlogan.
you’re already cross-eyed by the time he sprays his first load inside you.
.
wade gets a five second clip from logan’s number. the thumbnail is just a blur of colours and wade’s interest is piqued because logan rarely reaches out to him—a video is just unthinkable.
he was expecting many things—that the video is the one of deadpool being broadcasted on national television with the words “hero or criminal?” after he’s accidentally set the robber’s van on fire, or that the video is an accidental recording of logan’s butt because that wolverine suit was tight and wade can’t even think where logan must keep his phone with him.
but this—
wade wasn’t expecting this.
it was a video of you—wade’s not even embarrassed to admit that he’s memorized the way you look from all angles; what? one doesn’t get a show of wolverine fucking his girl without gaining a new hyperfixation—reaching for logan’s monster cock. wade breathes in sharply as he watches you reach for the condom before tugging it off with a filthy, filthy pop. the video cuts into a next scene of logan relentlessly fucking you hard; the audio is a mess of squeaks and slaps, but also the wet squelches of logan’s cock fucking in-and-out of your gaping cunt.
two things:
1. that’s fucking hot.
2. that video has clearly been tampered with; it was edited to show the barest of the highlights.
this was a conscious decision, with deliberate efforts. this was personal.
an invitation.
wade rubs one… okay, fine.
wade rubs three out before he’s running back to that apartment he’s daydreamed about. mid-parkour, another notifcation comes in. wade falls, because of course he does, but while he waits for his ankle to mend itself back into its socket, his eyes devour the new message.
> darl wants to know if you’re in.
wade sends a dick pic as a reply.
wade busting a fat nut behind tim hortons because he’s patriotic like that
cowboy!logan teasing his girl when he figures out she likes him sweaty and messy from work...
[god him in this gif has me scratching the walls]
pairing: cowboy!logan x f!reader
wc: 587
Cowboy!Logan coming home to you after a long day of herding cattle.
His face is shining with sweat, his scent deliciously musky. Not far off from how he looks when he’s just orgasmed, you think, despite your best efforts not to let your mind go there. Dark denim stained with mud at the hem, his boots in a similar state. Plaid button-up tucked into a fat belt, the sleeves rolled up his thick, veiny forearms.
Yeah, you’re gonna make sure he fucks you. As soon as possible.
“Missed you, baby,” He says with the softest barely-there smile. He slides off his dirty boots by the entryway, mumbling an apology for the mess he’s causing. “And I’ll clean that up soon as I’m outta the shower.” It’s said with a grin and raised hands, as if he’s expecting you to scold him.
But you’re too busy staring at his arms.
“Something wrong?” He asks, his smile falling as he walks toward you.
“Don’t shower,” You say simply, quietly. You meet his eyes and watch his confusion transform into understanding—No, smug understanding. There’s a lump in your throat now, but you swallow it down quickly and stand up straighter. “Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”
He’s smirking, even as he speaks. “‘Cause I’m dirty. And I stink. Don’t wanna ruin that pretty dress.” He looks down at you, taking in the sight of your body in the thin, sheer fabric. Of course, you go red in the face at his words and his scrutinizing eye, and of course, he takes it as his cue to crowd you until you’re backed up against the kitchen counter.
“But…” He starts, placing a calloused hand flat on the expanse of skin just above the swell of your breast. “You,” He pushes his fingers under your strap, “Don’t,” slides it off your shoulder, “Care.” He rushes to give your bare breast a long, firm squeeze, and you can’t help the soft moan that escapes you when he does. But then he pauses his actions to whisper teasingly, "Do you?"
You shake your head immediately, and he starts back up again. He plays with you, slow and methodical and loving, yet perfectly aggressive. Like a man.
While you watch his hand, hypnotized, Logan is intently observing your face and subconsciously mimicking your expressions. When your eyebrows knit, so do his. When your mouth falls open, so does his. And when you’ve only just begun to lean in for a kiss, he’s leaning in the rest of the way, capturing your mouth with searing hunger as he moves his lips against you expertly.
He’ll carry you into your shared bedroom eventually. Make sweet love to you until the clouds shielding the moon settle into a low fog in preparation for the morning dew. Until you’re just as sweaty as he is, until the only words coming out of your mouth are "I love you," and, "Don’t stop," and, "Faster."
And it’s that last command which consumes him as he kneels between your legs right here, right now, stroking you over your underwear while he fantasizes about fingering you open. He'll take his time with it, do it properly, so he can fuck you as deep and hard as he wants to much later—after your greedy pussy is inevitably tired of the decorum involved with simply making love for hours. You’ll want to fuck, dirty and messy and rough, and he’ll wonder how such a sweet girl could get so drunk on cock. He would bother spitting the question at you between sharp, relentless thrusts, if he didn't already know the answer.
Only for you, Logan.
a/n: my requests are open! gimme all ur ideas <3 also reblog to support ur fav authors!
I can just picture how much it would mean to just hold hands with Logan.
I'd assume that where his claws grow, would typically be rather sensitive to the touch. But its where someone else fingers would usually lay when digits are intertwined.
“Has anyone ever just…….held your hand before?” You ask with a curious expression smeared across your face. Logan can't see it, but you've been staring at the spots between his knuckles. The spaces that are angry, irritated and raw.
“Not if they were particularly invested in keeping their hand,” Logan protects himself from the reality and depth of your question. But he answers truthfully. “No, no hon—noones held my hand before.”
So, ever so slowly, but surely, you tiptoe your fingers down his forearm. Never once picking your head up from where you're resting on Logand chest. Listening to his heartbeat race as you get closer and closer to the knuckles that have caused so much pain.
“Are you sure?” He nearly whimpers as your dance your fingertips across his bruised knuckles. “What if I hurt you?” its a valid question, but not particularly a question you cared for.
“I'm sure we have a few bandaids lying around—” You smile, completely sure as you intertwine your fingers with Logans. “Just hold my hand.”
“Ill never wanna let go.” Logan sighs at the feeling, the love he harbours for you radiates throughout his entire body.
“You big softy,” You tease—its only met with a kiss to the top of the head.
A/N: I said I was gonna get this done and it took me way too long and has an absurd word count but I am incapable of holding in word vomit! Inspired by She Wolf by Shakira cause idc its GOOD and it got me thinking' so here it is. Also you don't have to listen to the song as you read but I think It's fun!
Summary: You've got a crush on your best friend and he's a bit of a dick. He regrets it and tries to apologize but you're already trying to push yourself to move on any way you can, even if it's in some shady club you'd never been to before.
Warnings: MDNI 18+, swearing, Logan's kind of an asshole for a minute, Possessive/jealous!Logan, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), friends to lovers cause that's my fave, afab reader, mutant reader, unnamed creepy guy (?) aaaand Logan absolutely has a pain kink. I think that's it but if there's any I missed please let me know!
Word Count: 7K (im so sorry but I'm not though)
divider credit here
“Are you ever gonna tell him?”
You looked up from your desk towards Ororo’s voice, sighing and taking your glasses off your nose.
“God, I don’t know, ‘ro. I don’t think I should. It’s just going to end with me being humiliated and him never wanting to even be in the same room as me again.”
You’d had a crush on Logan Howlett since the day you first walked through the doors of the mansion six months ago. You’d probably be considered best friends by now with how much time you’d spend together, doing jack shit around the mansion on your days off. Just about everyone could tell he had a soft spot for you and that you had one for him. Logan was a classic ‘tough guy’, constantly trying to hide his kind nature with a hard exterior, but it took only a couple weeks for you to crack that barrier. You weren’t exactly a seemingly ‘soft’ type either.
You’d spent the majority of your life before you joined the X-men hoping from couch to couch and hitching rides with strangers, not really having a destination or a place to call home. You’d been dropped off at a church when you were fourteen, around the time you started to turn every full moon. Your parents couldn’t live with having to chain their mutant daughter in their basement once a month, and so they dropped you where they thought you’d find some ‘help’. You’d been passed from foster home to foster home till you were eighteen, each one passing you up the moment they realized you were not like them. It was always a slip of the mask, something setting you off to make you so enraged your eyes gleam yellow and your sharp canines make an unfortunate appearance. You took off the second you could and being on the road came with its fair share of creeps; men with terrible intentions looking for opportunities. You’d never wanted to hurt anyone - truly - but when cornered by a creep, it was hard to think anyone would miss them. A couple of local newspapers caught on, debating where the wolf that tore men to shreds had gone. You weren’t an animal. You just had teeth like one.
Knowing you couldn’t lurk in town much longer, you’d hitchhiked your way to a camp occupied with people like you; lost with no place to call home. It was there that you’d met a couple of mutants who told you about Charles Xavier and the place that seemed completely unreal until you set your eyes on it. That felt like a lifetime ago by now.
“I think you're underestimating how he feels about you,” Ororo said, bringing you back to reality. She was sat on the edge of your bed, flipping through one of your magazines as you worked at your computer to try and make a lesson plan for the coming week.
“I think you’re overestimating how he feels about me,” you let out a short laugh, shaking your head.
Just as she was about to retort, you both heard someone shout your names from the hallway. You looked at each other curiously and left the room, hearing shouting again.
“Are you guys gonna play Monopoly with us or what?”
You both giggled and made your way downstairs towards Scott’s voice. Him, Jean, Marie, Bobby and Logan were all sat in the living room, the game already set up on the coffee table. Bobby and Marie were picking out their game pieces, assigning everyone else to their own piece.
“Okay, Logan, you’re gonna be the dog,” Marie smiled, dropping the little metal piece into the palm of his hand.
He was definitely not as amused, “why do I have to be a damn dog?”
Ignoring him, she handed another piece out to Jean, “you’re the thimble.”
She then handed the boat to Scott, the top hat to you, and the iron to Ororo. You all began the game after Scott painstakingly over-explained the rules and how to play.
It was a good bit into the game that you all became distracted with conversation, eventually leaving the board game untouched. The topic of compatibility came up somehow, the conversation focused on the joy of Bobby and Marie.
“I think anyone would be lucky to have what you guys have,” Ororo smiled, shifting her gaze between the two of them.
“And what we have, obviously,” Scott joked, hanging his arm around Jean.
“Gross,” Logan chimed in, taking a sip of the beer he’d hidden in the back of the fridge.
“I think someone is jealous,” Ororo said in a singsong voice, poking his arm.
“Of having someone hang on me all the time? No, thanks,” he scoffed.
As stupid as it was, it made you a little sad to hear he had no interest in even entertaining the idea. It wasn’t a surprise, but still a disappointment nonetheless.
Ororo brought up your name and your eyes went huge, silently begging her to keep her mouth shut.
“You don’t seem to mind her hanging on you all the time. I think you’d be cute together,” she said, smiling mischievously at you. Scott and Jean agreed and you had never wanted to smash your head into a coffee table as much as you did in that moment.
“Nah, definitely not my type of girl.”
It was just seven words, out quick without a second thought, and yet it felt like you’d been punched in the gut. You couldn’t take your eyes off the monopoly board on the table, avoiding everyone’s gaze.
Definitely not my type of girl.
“I think I should head to bed, it’s getting late,” you mumbled, keeping your head down to hide your blushed face as you got up from the couch and practically ran out of the room and up the stairs.
“What the hell was that?” Scott scolded Logan the moment you were out of sight.
“That was so mean,” Ororo chimes in, backhanding him on the arm.
“I didn’t mean to be,” Logan said nervously , shrugging his shoulders, “…do you think she’s mad at me?”
“Probably more hurt than mad,” Jean said honestly.
“Shit,” he sighed, putting his beer down to rub his face with his hands, “what do I say?”
“Not that,” Marie replied, “why did you even say that anyway? You could’ve just said no.”
“I think you like her and you’re being mean so that she wont like you back because you’re afraid,” Ororo said after a moment of silence.
Logan sat quiet for a moment, his hands still over his face.
“Am I that easy to read?” His voice was muffled through his hands.
The rest of them couldn’t help exchanging knowing smiles.
“So you finally admit it,huh? You’ve got a crush,” Scott teased.
Logan moved his hands from his eyes to glare daggers at him, “you shut your fucking mouth or I’ll shove that monopoly board where the sun doesn’t shine.”
“I think that’s a yes,” Jean whispered to her boyfriend.
“Talk to her when you see her tomorrow. We’re not going to let you hurt her feelings just because you can’t accept your own,” Ororo advised, lightly patting him on the shoulder.
“Do you think she’s even gonna talk to me?”
“Only one way to find out.”
───────♡──────────────♡───────
Logan tried to catch up with you the next day, always seeing you as you were leaving a room he was entering or passing by and even then, you ignored his calls of your name.
It was a little after dinner now and because it was a weekend, a couple of kids were up playing the PlayStation in the living room. Bobby and Marie sat with them, taking turns with the controllers.
Logan entered the room after about three laps around the mansion, mentioning your name to the both of them.
“Have you guys seen her? I’ve been trying to talk to her all day, she keeps running from me.”
“Can’t really blame her,” Bobby muttered, his eyes never leaving the TV screen as he button smashed.
“She’s in her room,” Marie answered before Logan could come up with a retort, “she went up before dinner, said she wasn’t hungry.”
He groaned, running a hand through his hair, “she’s skipping dinner now too, great.”
“Go talk to her!” She insisted, shooing him away with a wave of her hand.
He made his way to the stairs and up to your bedroom, knocking lightly on your door. Hearing nothing, he knocked again, a little harder. Still, nothing.
“You can’t avoid me forever, you know. I wanna talk about yesterday, I was a dick.”
Silence. Now he was a little worried. He tentatively grabbed the doorknob and turned, cracking it open a bit.
Your bed was made, your desk was neatly organized and you were nowhere to be seen. He noticed your purse was gone from the usual spot you’d leave it in and your closet was open, a couple garments and some shoes strewn about on the floor. It looked like you’d gotten dressed and dipped. He figured maybe Ororo or Jean might know where you were, leaving your room and looking for them instead. He found them shortly after, huddled in the kitchen. Again, he asked if either of them knew where you were.
“She’s in her room, she went up before dinner,” Ororo answered.
“No, she’s not. And her purse is gone.”
Both women turned to each other with the same worried expression.
───────♡──────────────♡───────
Having tried your cellphone about thirteen times from just about everybody’s phones, they all decided they had to tell Charles. He used his ability to connect with every mutant on the planet to try and locate you, visualizing with his eyes closed. Everyone stood in his study, anxiously awaiting his conclusion. After a moment of silence, he started to silently chuckle to himself.
“What’s so funny?” Logan asked immediately, crossing his arms and furrowing his eyebrows.
“I’m afraid you all have your work cut out for you,” he replied, finally opening his eyes.
“So, where is she?” Ororo asked, worry in her voice.
“There is a club called The Nightcrawler - “ Charles began to explain, but Logan interjected impatiently.
“Club? What, like a book club?” He nearly scoffed. There was no way you were at some sleazy nightclub in the city. You were a homebody and an introvert, neither of which made clubbing enjoyable.
“Maybe we should just let her have fun,” Jean began to say, but Logan was already halfway out the door.
Uncharacteristically, you found yourself dressed to the nines in the middle of a dance floor full of people. You’d spent a while trying outfits in your room, searching for something you could actually wear out that wasn’t sweatpants and a hoodie. You’d settled on a halter top that tied at your neck and in the back and a pair of ridiculously tight pants that you’d bought forever ago and never had the guts to wear. You ended up standing in front of the mirror, choosing a pair of very cute but very uncomfortable shoes and looking over the outfit. If you weren’t Logan’s ‘type of girl’, you sure as hell were somebody’s. Trying to get yourself out there may be the best solution to forgetting the heart-crushing infatuation you had with your best friend who would never see you as anything more.
“I feel ridiculous,” you chuckled to yourself, turning in the mirror to see the back of your outfit. You did look good, just super out of your comfort zone. You grabbed your bag and ended up slipping out when everyone was eating dinner. That’s how you ended up where you were, pushing your way through the crowd of people with a drink in your hand. You passed the raised lounge area and felt a hand on your shoulder, making you turn suddenly.
“Hey, you wanna dance?”
He was tall, leaning down a little to shout over the music. He was pretty good looking but didn’t look like Logan in the slightest, which you realized was exactly the point of going out tonight. He was dressed nice and smelled like expensive cologne.
“Sure, why not?”
As you abandoned your half finished drink on a table and let him pull you a little further into him, a familiar song started to thump through the speakers.
“I love this song!” You exclaimed, letting the nameless guy rest his hands on your hips.
S.O.S., she's in disguise
S.O.S., she's in disguise
There's a she wolf in disguise
Coming out, coming out, coming out
“Ironic,” you muttered under the music.
───────♡──────────────♡───────
Logan walked ahead of Ororo, Jean and Scott, his long legs taking him much further at a much faster pace.
“Logan, slow down!” Ororo called out, jogging a bit to catch up with him.
“What if she didn’t even want to be there? What if some guy dragged her there?”
“Oh,” Jean laughed, “ I see. You’re jealous.”
“No.”
“Yup.”
“Nope.”
“So you’d be fine if we walked in there and she is with a guy?”
Logan slowed his pace as they approached the entrance, “sure, whatever,” feigned disdain in his voice.
The second the door opened, the bass of the music was overwhelming. It was dim, save for a few colorful lights projecting around the room. The four of them were squished together near the door, trying to pick you out in a sea of moving people.
“This is gonna be like finding a needle in a haystack,” Scott shouted.
“Not necessarily,” Ororo replied, a smug smile on her face.
“What?” Logan furrowed his eyebrows.
She pointed across the room and he followed her gaze.
There's a she wolf in the closet
Open up and set it free
There's a she wolf in your closet
Let it out so it can breathe
You didn’t even look like you. He’d never seen you in anything that showed that much skin or any clothes that even hugged you like that, for that matter.
And you were with a guy.
Sitting across a bar, staring right at her prey
It's going well so far, she's gonna get her way
“So, what did we tell you?” Jean shouted, waving her hand in front of his glaring eyes.
“Just some kid,” he replied dismissively, turning to her, “doesn’t mean anything anyway.”
“You sure?” Scott nudged his shoulder, making Logan look towards you again.
That kid had his hands up the sides of your top with his head craned down to kiss your neck, your back to his chest. You were giggling, playfully smacking his arm. Truthfully, you thought the attention was nice for a change. After trying so hard for too long to get Logan to notice you, it felt good to have someone pay attention to you in that way.
Not looking for cute little divos or rich city guys
I just want to enjoy
By having a very good time
And behave very bad in the arms of a boy
You felt his hands squeeze your hips a little harder, enough for his nails to dig into your skin. Out of instinct, you felt your canine teeth start to poke against your lower lip. You tried in vain to tug his hands from you, only making him tighten his grip.
The switch in demeanor was obvious even from across the dark room, your smile turning into a grimace that bared your sharp teeth. You yanked the sleeves of his jacket to make him finally let go, turning around while he still had his arms ghosted around you.
S.O.S., she's in disguise
S.O.S., she's in disguise
“Touch me like that again, you son of a bitch, and I will rip you to fucking shreds.”
You gathered fistfuls of his shirt, bringing him down to eye level so he could see your snarling teeth and gleaming eyes as a hint that you weren’t bluffing.
There's a she wolf in disguise
Coming out, coming out, coming out
Before anyone could even tell him to stay put, Logan had already disappeared into the crowd of people.
“God damn it,” Scott huffed, following Jean and Ororo when they went after him.
“Logan!” Jean yelled, trying to grab his jacket to slow him and only having him slip out of her grip.
There's a she wolf in the closet
Let it out so it can breathe
“Shit, I’m kinda into the fangs. What, you gonna bite me?” He was whispering in your ear, your hands still on his shirt. Before you could do something you were going to regret, you felt someone tug your upper arm and pull you away from him.
“Come on,” Logan snapped, “we’re leaving.”
“What the hell are you doing here? What do you mean we?” You yelled back. You didn’t want to stay anywhere near that guy but you weren’t ready to leave either and sure as hell not with Logan dragging you out like an angry parent.
“Hey, she doesn’t really look like she wants to leave with you, man,” the other guy interjected, keeping a grip on you by looping his fingers through one of the belt loops on your pants.
“Yeah? She doesn’t want to stay with you either, jackass,” Logan moved his hand from your arm to hold your hand instead, “she’s not interested.”
What the hell had gotten into him? You felt like you were in the middle of a tug of war with two dogs.
“No one’s gonna fucking ask what I want, right?” You tried to complain, neither of them hearing you.
“Your little doggy girlfriend here was just about to take care of me. You mad about it?” The other guy laughed and you nearly lunged at him, Logan’s hand tugging you back. He intended to pull you away so he could get to him first, but Scott, Jean and Ororo jumped in just in time.
“Alright - enough, enough, we’re leaving!” Jean yelled, pushing you all towards the door, Logan dragging you the whole way. When you finally were out in the cool evening air, you angrily yanked your hand from his.
“What are you guys doing here?” You asked, turning to Logan, “and what the fuck was that?”
“What was that? You’re welcome - “
“I didn’t ask you to come save me - from what, having a good time?”
“Oh, yeah, it looked like you were having a lot of fun,” he scoffed, “he had you by the hip so hard he probably left a bruise.”
He instinctively reached his hand out to check and you swatted it away, “Don’t - Don’t touch me!”
None of them had ever heard you sound so pissed off and you’d definitely never snapped at Logan like that before.
You took a deep breath and reached down to slip off your shoes, leaving you barefoot on the concrete.
“I’m sorry,” you apologized to the rest of them,” but why are you guys here?”
“You left without saying anything, we couldn’t find you and we wanted to be sure you were safe,” Ororo sighed, hugging you in relief, “we’re so glad you’re okay.”
You hugged her back.
“I just - I wanted to disappear for a while,” you explained apologetically, avoiding Jean and Scott’s gaze.
“Do you know how stupid it was to run off and not tell anyone where you were going?” Logan scolded you, but Jean clicked her tongue at him.
“Shut it! Enough from you! You’ve done enough damage control!”
The ride home was almost silent, your tired body slumped in the backseat between Scott and Jean, until Ororo spoke from the front passenger seat.
“Honey, I don’t mean this in a bad way, but,” she paused, thinking over her words, “what were you gonna do to that guy if we hadn’t stopped you?”
You understood what she meant immediately.
“What, you think I was going to kill him?” you asked, crossing your arms and leaning forward in your seat, “I wasn’t. I don’t do that unless I have to and you know even then I hate doing it.”
“I know…so, what were you doing with a guy like him anyway?” she asked, trying to move on from the question that had clearly made you upset, “he seemed kinda shady.”
Logan was gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles were white, dreading the answer.
You shrugged your shoulders, staring at the synthetic fabric of your pants.
“Liked the attention, I guess,” you answered honestly, kind of hoping you could throw anyone off the idea of you being interested in Logan, “it’s been awhile since a guy has liked me like that.”
“He only wanted one thing from you anyway,” he scoffed from the front seat. Ororo glared at him, about to tell him to mind his business before you stopped her.
“And I can’t want it either?”
That shut everybody up and Ororo turned to him again, a look on her face that said ‘you asked, you got the answer’.
You tried to bolt to your room when you all got home but Logan was quick to follow, catching up with you to stand in your path in the hallway outside of your bedroom.
“What’s going on with you?”
“Leave me be.”
You tried to dodge around him but he stuck his arm out.
“Logan.”
He raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to continue speaking.
“Move.”
“I’m not leaving you alone until you tell me what’s going on with you. You don’t disappear like that, ever. And I wanna talk to you about last night - “
“There’s nothing to talk about. Goodnight,” you huffed, ducking under his arm and opening your door.
“I care about you, you know, I was worried,” he began to explain.
You tried to slam the door in his face but he stuck his foot out, jamming his boot between the door and the doorframe. You let go in defeat and turned away, gathering your pajamas as if he wasn’t in the room.
“Yeah? Why?,” you scoffed, trying with everything in you to bite your tongue but failing miserably, “I’m not your type of girl. What’s there to worry about?”
Logan’s face fell. He pushed the door closed behind him.
“Is that what this is about? That’s why you went out?”
“Why do you care?”
You still had your back to him, furiously shuffling through clothing in your dresser.
“Stop.”
You felt his hands on your arms as he came up behind you, paralyzing you in your spot.
You let him turn you around gently, almost chest to chest.
“I didn’t mean that.”
“You don’t have to lie to spare my feelings -“
“I’m not.”
He leaned back a little to force you to look him in the eye.
“I only said that - listen, I only said that because - “ Logan paused, biting his lip till it nearly bled, but you shook your head and slipped by him again.
“Please, don’t treat me like I’m stupid, Logan.”
You sounded so exasperated, tears forming in your eyes when you turned your back to him.
“Fuck,” he sighed, “I only said that because I didn’t want you to like me.”
You wiped the tear that rolled down your cheek and turned back to him, a confused expression on your face.
“It worked, are you happy?”
“No, I’m not - “
“Well, guess it backfired. Get out of my room.”
You were face to face again, keeping your mouth in a tight line so your lip wouldn’t quiver. It felt stupid to cry in front of him, but you couldn’t really help it once it started.
“Oh, god, please, don’t cry,” he begged, leaning down and actually bringing a hand up to your face to wipe away a tear that rolled down your cheek. You wanted to smack it away, tell him again to just get the hell out , but you couldn’t.
“Why would you do that?” You mumbled out quietly, finally letting the overwhelming feeling of sadness cancel out any rage you had for him. You couldn’t look him in the eye again, concentrating on the throw rug you were standing on.
“I’m so sorry, princess, I am. I’m really fucking stupid,” he huffed.
You were surprised by the softness of his voice and finally tore your eyes from the floor. He’d called you that before, but usually in a teasing way. This time it sounded endearing, like a plea of your name.
“And what happened there, at the club? ‘She’s not interested’, what was that about?” You continued.
He sighed, still trying to figure out what exactly it was that he wanted to say. He realized there probably wasn’t much of a way to beat around the bush and he groaned, closing his eyes as he stood in front of you to make spilling his guts a little less agonizing.
“I like you - like you a lot, and I was an asshole because I figured if you hated me, you couldn’t like me back and it would save you the trouble.”
Hearing no response, he finally opened his eyes to see you still standing in the same spot, your lips parted.
“Save me the trouble of what?”
You were confused, your eyes narrowed as if you were angry.
“I don’t know…having to deal with me, I guess. I - I’ve never felt the way I feel about you for anyone else and it scares the shit out of me.”
You could hear him swallow hard, his eyes looking everywhere around the room except at you.
“And earlier, when we picked you up,” he continued, “I acted like that because I was jealous, alright? Can’t stand to see some asshole on you like that, and you were dressed all nice and - I don’t know.”
You’d never heard him sound so nervous in all the time you’d known him.
“You are my type of girl,” he finally choked out, “only type of girl I’d ever want.”
All you could do was inhale sharply, his words echoing in your mind.
“It’s alright if you hate me, I can’t say I really blame you. Fuck, I’m sorry.”
He began to walk out, convinced he’d fucked up beyond repair.
“Logan.”
Your voice stopped his hand from turning your doorknob and he turned back to you.
No longer crying, you tentatively stepped forward a bit, nervously playing with the front hem of your top.
“You’re not something to deal with, you know,” you muttered, letting your hair fall in front of your face.
You supposed this was the point where it was your turn to explain.
“I’ve liked you for a long time, Logan, probably since the day I walked in here and I just - I think I wanted someone to distract me so I wouldn’t wallow in self pity because you didn’t want me.”
“You were trying to get over me,” he realized aloud, a small smile on his face to hide the hurt, “I deserved that.”
After a moment of tense silence, he spoke again.
“Did it work?”
His voice was low and soft, a tone you’d rarely heard him speak with.
You pursed your lips and finally lifted your head, taking a deep breath.
“No. I don’t think it was ever going to, either,” you laughed a little, “when that guy asked me to dance, the first thing I thought of was that he didn’t look anything like you.”
Your voice trailed off a little at the end, a little embarrassed to confess that even if Logan had already flat out told you he was interested in you.
Without another word, he came close enough to reach for your hands and gently intertwine your fingers with his. He cleared his throat, nervously chewing his bottom lip before he spoke.
“Can I kiss you?”
You must have had this dream a million times over, waking up night after night and feeling so empty because none of it was real. But now, with his hands in yours, it was very real.
You eagerly pressed your lips to his, not wanting to waste another second. His lips were soft and you were encompassed in the scent of his body wash and cologne, smelling of pine and cedar wood. You brought your hands up to play with his hair at the back of his head. Logan moved his arms to wrap around your waist, pulling you further into him.
When you finally pulled away from each other, you were both smiling like idiots.
“We should’ve done that much sooner,” you giggled.
“Agreed.”
His fingers traced small circles on the exposed skin of your back, making you shiver.
He kissed you again, this time with much more intensity. It wasn’t long before your tongues were in each other's mouths and you both had fumbled yourselves over to the end of your bed.
“Wanted you for so long,” he mumbled between kissing your neck and jaw, his hands still sliding up and down your back, “I was so stupid.”
“We both were,” you giggled a little, cut short into a moan when he licked your neck all the way from your collarbone to under your ear.
“L-Logan,” you gasped, unable to hide your blushing face.
He hummed into your neck, bringing his mouth to your ear, “Can I show you how sorry I am? Let me make it up to you.”
His voice made the hair on the back of your neck stand up and you let him pull you onto him to straddle his lap, lost in the feeling of his hands on you.
“Mmm, uh-huh,” you hummed, mouth hung open as he sucked light marks into your neck.
“You have to use your words, pretty girl,” he brought his head up to rest his forehead against yours. He cupped your jaw tenderly, almost as if you’d disappear if he let go.
Before you could answer, he moved his hands to drag your hips over his, grunting when he felt the pressure.
“Y-yes, yeah - please,” you choked out between moans, tugging his hair harder every time he pushed and pulled your hips.
“Please what, baby?”
“You - you can make it up to me,” you groaned into his neck.
He effortlessly lifted you by your thighs and laid you with your back to the bed. You untucked his white t-shirt from his jeans as he crawled over you, desperate to get your hands underneath it. You lightly scratched your nails along his back, making him groan into your ear. He kissed down your neck to the center of your chest, gently slipping his fingers under the hem of your top and around the back.
“Can I take this off you, baby?”
You were already sitting up before he could finish his sentence, reaching to try and untie the knot at the back of your neck.
“Eager, huh?”, he chuckled, “let me, sweetheart.”
He wrapped his arms around your lower back to tug at the knot, feeling it come loose in his hands. He snaked his hands up to the back of your neck, doing the same to the tied strings there. When it came loose, the only thing holding the piece of fabric to you was his hands at the back of your neck. He let it slip from his fingers, a smirk on his face when it fell completely.
You threw the garment somewhere to the floor and tugged on the collar of his t-shirt, bringing him down with you as laid back again and pressed your lips to his. He pulled back for a moment to yank his shirt off and immediately return his mouth to yours, making his way down to your neck. He brought both his hands to your chest and swept his thumbs over your hard nipples, eventually bringing his lips to them and sucking.
“Ah - Logan,” you whined, making him smile against your skin.
“I like it when you say my name, pretty girl,” he mumbled, dragging his fingers down your sides and hooking them into the waistband of your pants. He kissed all the way down to your hips, moving himself to lay on his stomach with his head between your thighs.
Before he could ask you if it was alright to rid you of them, you were already unbuttoning your pants and pushing them down your hips and thighs. He took them off the rest of the way for you and you kicked your panties off with them.
He hooked his arms around your thighs to pull you closer, licking his lips and resting his cheek on the inside of your thigh.
“I thought about you a lot, you know - like this,” he huffed, his warm breath fanning over your pussy.
You had your hands in his hair already, swiping fallen strands of hair out of his face.
“I thought about you like this, too,” you admitted, sighing as he started to plant kisses right above where you wanted him the most.
“Yeah?”
His teasing voice brought goosebumps to your skin and you nodded, gasping when you finally felt his lips graze your clit.
“This what you think about when you fuck yourself?” He mumbled into you, the vibration of his voice making you tighten your grip in his hair. He growled like an animal, trying to push you even further into his mouth by the grip on your thighs.
You were trying to choke out an answer, distracted by the wet sounds of him messily eating you out.
“Y - ah, yes, yeah - not as good as the real thing, though.”
He laughed with his mouth still attached to you and you tightened your thighs around his head, keeping him in place.
He could have spent hours with his mouth to your cunt, practically fucking you with his tongue while you whined his name.
A knock on your door sounded through the room, the both of you freezing in place.
“Hey, I just wanted to check on you. Are you feeling okay?”
It was Scott.
You grimaced, thankful at the very least that your door was locked, but Logan had a terribly smug smirk on his face.
“Y-yeah, I’m alright, just - just tired,” you managed to choke out, stuttering when you felt two of his fingers slip into you effortlessly.
“You sure?”
You sighed, hating and loving Logan at the same time for what he was doing.
“Yup, th-thank you, m’ jus’ gonna go to bed.”
Scott responded with a goodnight and you groaned in relief when you heard him walk away.
Logan was curling his fingers inside of you, still lapping at your pussy and letting you use your grip on his hair to angle his head however you wanted him. You felt the pressure in your lower stomach rise and you tried to warn him, tugging on the hair on the back of his head.
“Logan, I’m - “
“C’mon, pretty girl, c’mon.”
His encouragement sent you over the edge, euphoria blooming from your lower stomach and spreading through you. You had to cover your mouth to muffle your pornographic moans, but Logan reached up to tug your wrist.
“Uh-uh, wanna hear you, beautiful,” he mumbled into you, practically pushing your thighs even further around his head.
“Fuck, L-Logan, too - too sensitive,” you stuttered out, trying to pull his face away by his hair and failing miserably because of his grip around your thighs.
He eventually reluctantly detached himself and crawled back on top of you, sucking the taste of you off his fingers.
“I could do that for hours, you know, if you let me,” he groaned, pulling your hips up to him so you could feel the weight of his hard cock underneath his jeans.
Still sensitive, you reactively gripped his biceps and dug your fingernails into his skin. You were going to apologize and were quickly cut off by the guttural moan he let out into the side of your neck.
“Fuck,” he groaned, rocking his hips against yours.
“You’re into pain, huh?”
You figured it was your turn to tease him, dragging your fingernails from his shoulders all the way down his back.
“You’re gonna pay for that, pretty girl,” he grunted, moving quickly to undo his belt and strip himself of the rest of his clothing.
When his cock sprung up and hit his stomach as he took off his boxers, you swallowed hard; already feeling a wanting ache in your stomach again. You figured he was big - he was already a tall guy, after all - but he was far bigger than any guy you’d ever seen. Logan noticed the way you bit your lower lip, resting himself on top of you again and bringing his thumb up to pull your lip from under your teeth.
“What, are you nervous? It’s alright sweetheart, I’m not gonna hurt you.”
His voice was so soft and gentle, a tone you rarely ever heard from him.
You could feel the weight of his cock against your inner thigh, heavy and already leaking.
“ ‘m not nervous, I want you, please,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his waist. You reached your hand between your bodies to line him up with your entrance, trying to push him in with your legs around his waist.
“You sure?” he huffed, trying with every muscle in his body to not slam into you in one thrust.
You nodded eagerly, scratching at his lower back.
Logan couldn’t help himself and gave in, slipping himself into you.
“So tight,” he groaned into your neck, pushing himself in even further.
“You - fuck - you’re so fucking big,” you admitted truthfully, nearly drooling at the feeling of him stretching you out.
“Feels good?”
It was hard for him to speak when you were so wet that he was nearly slipping out of you as he gently rocked his hips back and forth, trying to be gentle and let you adjust to his size.
“Mm - uh-uh,” you hummed, gasping each time he pushed further.
“Use your words, sweetheart,” he huffed and you groaned, digging your nails into him.
“Y-yes, yeah - want you all the way in,” you whimpered.
That was all it took for him to be buried in you, grinding his hips into yours so that you were pinned to the mattress.
He worked up to a devastating pace, practically slamming your headboard into the wall.
“S-someone’s gonna - someone’s gonna hear us,” you managed to gasp out, out of breath every time he filled you and pulled back again.
“Don’t care, let ‘em,” he pressed his forehead to yours, bringing a hand up to your face to affectionately cup your cheek. It was so sweet and almost disgustingly hot, the caring gesture contrasting the intense feeling of him repeatedly slamming into the sensitive spot inside of you.
He really didn’t have a care in the world about who heard you both, far too lost in the feeling of finally being able to have you under him like that. You had sweat soaked strands of hair stuck to your face, your eyes squeezed shut, and he was almost sure you’d never looked more beautiful.
“So fucking pretty,” he huffed, his thumb swiping your bottom lip. He had an idea, one he’d considered many times when he thought of you under him like this.
“Bite me.”
You raised your eyebrows in surprise, threading your hand through his hair, “are you sure?”
“Please.”
You forcibly unsheathed your fangs, letting them tentatively poke at his thumb that was still to your lips.
He moved his hand to your throat, resting it there without tightening his grip.
“Please.”
His pleading had the heat in your lower stomach rising and you obliged, sinking your teeth into his shoulder. You felt guilty - you didn’t enjoy hurting people - until he was whimpering in your ear, moaning your name over and over again.
You bit his neck, his shoulders, his lip - all the small puncture wounds healing themselves within seconds.
Having him so pussy drunk and groaning praises into your ear brought the pressure in your lower stomach to a max and you cried out his name, letting him fuck you through your second orgasm.
“ ‘s good, huh, princess? Come on me, c’mon,” he was begging, feeling your muscles tense around him. That drove him over the edge, his hips rutting into you and his thrusts becoming sloppy. He finally let himself go, filling you and letting it drip from you onto the sheets. He pulled back a little to see the mess you had both made, your inner thighs painted with a mix of his release and yours. He went to pull out completely and you clamped your thighs around his hips again, keeping him still.
“Want me to stay?”
“Mhm - please.”
The sexual tension was replaced with loving comfort, Logan keeping you to his chest as he laid you both on your side. His chin rested on the top of your head and your face was against his chest with your eyes closed. You smiled at the thump of his heartbeat in your ear, nearly letting it put you to sleep.
“Hey, pretty girl,” he mumbled into your hair, planting a kiss on the top of your head, “you know I love you?”
The last three words made your eyes shoot open and you looked up at him, worried you’d misheard him or maybe he was just messing with you.
“Really?”
“Of course. You think I would’ve done that with you if I wasn’t in love?”
You thought hard for a second, realizing he was right. It wasn’t that he hadn’t had hookups before, but it had been quite a long time since he’d bothered to even get to know someone like that. He wasn’t the type to lead you on, either - always up front with you, even if he didn’t have to be.
“I love you too,” you answered, unable to hide the wide smile on your face.
“I should’ve told you much sooner,” he sighed, his eyes fluttering closed as you snuggled into him again.
Before you could both fall asleep from exhaustion, he yanked the comforter over the both of you, hearing you mumble sleepily.
“You can make it up to me some more.”
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A/N: If you made it to the end I love you <3 pls lmk what you think and reblog+like if you enjoyed!! also still navigating how to write smut without using cringe terminology so forgive me if that part sucks
I just know wade would be asking u to grind ur teeth down on it...i just know it....
hi anon ur so right wade actually has you do insane shit to him dick biting is just the BEGINNING‼️😮💨 and the first time he suggests it you’re mortified 😭 you’re giving him that gawk gawk 3000 typhoon top but he’s still kinda soft 😰 you’re lowkey worried feeling self-conscious about your head game until he cups your face and swipes his thumb across your cheek
“can i ask you a weird question?”
when you’re having sex with wade wilson, this could lead to literally anything. “does this bump on my nutsack look different than usual?”, “what’s your stance on the death penalty?”, “did i ever tell you about that time i got my dick stuck in the toaster?” you brace yourself for whatever batshit insanity is about to slide out of his mouth.
“yeah, go for it.”
“can you use your teeth on it? just, like… keep doing what you’re doing, please, it’s fucking amazing. i just want a little more texture.”
huh?! is he for real?! but you’ve worked so hard to NOT do that! years of toiling in the dick-sucking mines has trained that right out of you, and he wants you to throw all that away? why?! “uh… are you sure?”
he just laughs in response
“aw, you’re so cute! so sweet, worrying about me like that! think about it. why would i ask for this if i didn’t want you to do it, stupid boy?”
…y’know what? fair enough. you close your teeth around his shaft and cheese grater up and down the length of his throbbing, bumpy cock.
“OH~! fuck, just like THAT, baby, YES~! mmm… fu-u-ck, that’s perfect… like… like you’re trying to bite the batter off a corndog, baby, there you go…”
and when i say it gets worse from there i mean it gets WORSE!!!! like he’ll come up behind you while you’re cooking dinner.
“hey, slutter-butter, you got a minute?”
“uh… yeah, actually!” you put down the knife you were about to use to chop an onion, and spin around to face him. “haven’t really started yet, what’s—“
he’s holding a strap-on.
“yes, hi, this is wade wilson, i’ve got an appointment for a prostate exam at 4PM?”
you smirk and saunter towards him, eager to play along with this spontaneous bit, “hmm… i’m not seeing you on our records, mr. wilson. are you sure it was scheduled for today?”
“i’m not sure, actually. i’ve made that mistake before. but this clinic takes walk-ins, right?”
“yes we do, sir, but today’s been pretty busy.” you wrap your fingers around his on the silicone shaft and pull him into you. “but i’ll see if i can squeeze in you.”
wade bounces and squees with joy and hands you the strap. you don’t even get it all the way on your hips before he’s bending over. onto the stove. where you were preheating a cast-iron skillet.
“oh, shit, WADE—!”
“what?” he stares at you blankly, holding the hot pan you were about to use. he’s silent for a moment, then two, and then it clicks. “oh!” he sets the pan down in the sink, claps his hands together, then points at you. “forgot you’re a normie! logan fucks me over the stove all the time. doesn’t really matter for us, since we’re freaks of nature and third degree burns just tickle us psychosexually, but, uh… would you… wanna try it? do a little flambé action? roasted wade wilson breasts? i promise, it’s fun. it makes me moan like a coked-up whore late on rent.”
you snort at his stupid comparison, and it actually puts your mind at ease a bit. it doesn’t surprise you that him and logan get up to this kinda thing when you’re not around. in fact, you’re actually flattered to be allowed to take part in it. to take advantage of him like this.
“fuck it. bend over, you fucking weirdo masochist.”
“yippee! yay! thank you, daddy!!!”
wade eagerly yanks his shorts down, widens his stance, and slams his bare chest onto the glowing red burner. his leathery skin sizzles with the smell of cooked human flesh.
“ooooh, that feels so fucking good on my right nipple… lemme roll a little, get the other side, ah~! oh-h-h, it hurts so fucking good!!!”
you get into position behind him, but he holds his hand out backwards to halt you.
“wait! one more thing!”
he reaches over and grabs the gigantic chef’s knife, freshly sharpened and pristine, that you had lying on the cutting board next to a soon-to-be mutilated onion, and offers it to you.
“jam this through my palm when i say i’m getting close. that’s the finishing move. have me spraying a whole little league team out my dick.”
