something i’ve been weirdly into lately is the idea of a dom not actually being the one to fuck you, but supervising while it happens (if that makes sense).
we all love the classic bratty royal getting fucked into submission by their knight, but maybe that’s not enough. maybe their knight knows that’s what the royal is goading them into and refuses to give them the satisfaction, or maybe for all that the royal needs correcting, the knight can’t bring themself to do the defiling.
maybe you think your knight is finally going to snap and bend you over the nearest flat surface to rail you like you’ve been dreaming of, but to your surprise they grab you roughly by the shoulder and drag you away to the barracks instead.
thrown to the wolves, you’re touched and bruised and fucked by every knight under your order except the one you really want, all the while they force you to maintain eye contact and listen to their lecturing about how you’ll only get what you want by doing what you’re supposed to, not by being an insolent brat.
they clean you up and comfort you afterwards, of course, apologizing for the rough but necessary treatment. but when you finally break and beg them to touch you (so politely, like a good prince/ss should), they leave you alone with a smirk on their face and an order to do better.
tags: MMF threesome, jealous!reader, reader is wade's girl, mutual pining/crushes all around, dirty talk, open relationship, eiffel tower, oral sex, piv, shared blow job, one affectionate use of the word slutty, reader has her hair tugged, light wade degradation, come sharing/swapping, praise kink
It’s stupid how much a crush can affect you after everything, but Logan has a way of turning both of you into schoolgirls.
You’ve each had the flickers of feelings before, but it’s never been like the express train that is one Logan Howlett, unexpectedly crashing into your station. Neither one of you had stood a chance.
(or - you’re both eager to spend time with Logan again)
The party is in full-swing. Plastic cups full of NOS and liquor - a crumpled up, passed around piece of paper, filled with scribbled-down drinking games.
It’s week two of Wade’s ‘Friday Night Yikes: an Analysis of Films Unfairly Nominated for the Razzies’ - or, movie night, to keep it simple.
A buzz of conversation during the intermission between the third and the fourth Fast & Furious movies, as you worked your way to Fast X.
It’s your first time being back at the apartment since your shared morning together. A busy past couple days - work schedules always just out of sync.
Wade coming to you one of those nights after you got off late - quiet, midnight murmurings filled with interest and hope, a conclusion that both of you on the same page.
Leaving you to wonder if he would be, as well.
You’ve felt the weight of Logan’s gaze throughout the night. Dropping when you glance his way, busying himself with his drink, passing around the bowl of chips or popcorn.
Trapped between Colossus and Peter - the seating in the small apartment is already limited. You've been perched on Wade's lap for the last hour, legs kicked over the side of an armchair as your head rests against his shoulder. A smile, with the rumble of laughter under your ear. The fingers that curl around your waist, fingers brushing.
But you know his gaze drifts across the room as well.
Catching the tail end of a conversation, Logan's beer tipped back as Piotr swipes through a phone that looks toy-sized in his hand.
"-be lonely in an apartment like this. I could help you find a nice girl."
It's not the first time this conversation has risen, but it's the first time it's made you go tense in Wade's arms.
"You don't want this hunk of metal helping you," Wade jumps in, "I got just the guy. Hope you like scars, because good news-"
Even as your elbow digs into his ribs, he doesn't budge.
“Right.” Logan scoffs, interrupting, “As if I was into loud-ass, scar-covered, bald assholes. You wish, Wilson.”
It doesn’t hold the same animosity it would’ve a week ago. There’s a muffled “fuck” breathed in your ear, the tilt of hips that lift beneath you.
“Nothing wrong with a bald asshole. Preferable, sometimes.” Wade smirks with a wink, “Come on Logi Bear, we can’t let a handsome young man like you become a spinster. What’s your type?”
Only now do Logan's eyes meet yours, holding your gaze as he answers.
"Don't have one."
It makes you inhale a breath, a little jolt in your belly.
'You have already got a girl, Wade. That is my point," Piotr frowns. A hum of interest as he shows Logan his phone, "What about Domino? You remember her, right?"
Peter leans from the other side, "Wade, you were supposed to give her my number."
"She has it." Piotr brushes him off, as Peter looks crushed. There’s a ping from Logan’s pocket - the information sent over.
Always getting lucky. You like Domino, quite a bit actually, but the thought sends a fresh wave of oozing green jealousy washing over you.
Logan huffs, a shift as his legs stretch out - the hint of a smirk, as he deflects, “How do you know me and Althea haven't been getting cozy?”
There’s a derisive snort from the armchair to your right.
“You wish you could handle me, motherfucker.”
There a chorus of laughter, Wade’s voice ringing out.
“Was that a joke?” It pitches up, as if he can’t believe it, “You're getting soft, maybe you are getting laid.”
As is he hadn’t been gargling Logan’s balls just a few days before. Coming so hard with his roommate’s fist around his cock, that he saw stars.
The look Logan shoots his way is unreadable. A lazy roll of his eyes, before his head tips towards the television.
“Just start the goddamn movie, dumbass.”
You slip from Wade’s lap when Logan peels from the couch to grab another beer. The chip bowl scooped up off the table - can’t be running out, not when there’s another hour still left to go.
A moment as you linger, watching as the fridge light illuminates his face. The silhouette of his features, the sharp cut of his facial hair flecked with grey - before he’s catching you, an eyebrow cocked.
You make a show of rounding the fridge, stepping into the narrow pantry. Hoping that he follows.
He doesn’t let you down.
“You’re not gonna call her, are you?”
It’s not what you mean to ask him, even if it’s certainly what you’ve been thinking about - the conversation a lead weight in your belly.
There’s a beat, as his eyebrow lifts. The peek of the tip of his tongue, running across a canine.
“I might,” He drawls, an arm bracing on the shelves, filling the doorway, “Gonna try to convince me not to, sweetheart?”
That jolt inside you plummets, until you see the curl of his lips. How there’s a dark heat that simmers in his eyes, as they drop to your mouth.
Teasing. Logan is teasing you.
You step into him. A hand curling around the back of his neck, his sharp intake of breath just audible before your mouth tips up to his.
It only lasts as long as a heartbeat, but you can still feel the hunger.
How his hands curve around your waist, dipping to cup against your ass. Tugging you flush as he licks into your mouth, leaving you panting when you pull away.
You can’t get too caught up. Not with your friends just across the room, this tenuous connection still taking shape between you.
“Come stay with us tonight.” It’s quiet, as his lips brush yours again, “We’ll take care of you.”
Logan’s eyes open, his voice a low rasp.
“Thought it was a one-time thing.”
You can’t bite back your smile, “Mm, think it was at least a three-time thing, if I’m remembering right.”
And there’s still his words, echoing in your mind, when it wanders. “Our girl.” If it had been possible to come from that alone, you just might have.
He huffs, and your voice softens.
“But no. Not if you don’t want it to be.”
The look he gives you is searching.
“Wade put you up to this?”
You lean against the shelves, arms crossing, “Wade has been half-hard all night, thanks to you. He feels the same, hasn’t been able to stop looking at you.”
His tongue pokes against his cheek.
“I’ve noticed. You two are not subtle.”
Heat licks at your cheeks, as your eyes drop. It’s stupid how much a crush can affect you after everything, but Logan has a way of turning both of you into schoolgirls.
You’ve each had the flickers of feelings before, but it’s never been like the express train that is one Logan Howlett, unexpectedly crashing into your station.
Neither one of you had stood a chance.
“I’m sorry.”
You try to move away from him, but there’s no where to go. His hand reaches out, even as his eyes shift away - settling somewhere next to your ear as his own pinken.
“Don’t be. It’s… uh,” There’s a lift of his shoulder, as he searches for a word, “Nice. Been a long time.”
“I find that hard to believe.” You smile, head tilting, “So… maybe just think about it?”
There’s the sound of a cinematic explosion behind you - layered laughter pulling you out of the moment.
Logan leans close. A held breath, before he grabs the bag of chips off the shelf - dropping them into your bowl as he takes a step back.
Just as aware as you are of the time that has passed.
“Yeah, sweetheart.” He purrs, “I’ll think about it.”
There’s a low murmur in your ear, when you slip onto Wade’s lap a few minutes later. Stalling as you refilled, waiting for Logan to settle in before you went back.
You can feel him now, the considerably-more-pronounced ridge that presses into the curve of your ass. The hand that settles almost possessively just beneath your breasts, splaying wide.
“You’re so hot when you’re jealous.” Wade rasps in your ear, a press of his lips against your neck.
This time when your elbow digs into his side, he laughs.
“Hello gorgeous,” Wade coos, “I’ve missed you.”
Logan shifts, scowling, “I live with you.”
There’s a sigh from behind you, as you settle between Logan’s thighs. It’s late now - the movie eventually winding to an end.
Tension stringing tight in your belly, that warm weight as everyone bid goodbyes. Al conked out on her recliner after ten minutes into the second movie, something that Wade may or may not have planned.
Making for Wade’s room - starting where you left off in the kitchen. Clothed peeled off with the wandering of mouth and hands, bared by the time the door kicks shut behind you.
Your palm pressing against his chest as he settles back against the headboard - you and Wade fitting yourselves onto the bed alongside him.
Even though you’ve seen him before, he’s still a sight to behold - all thick muscles and hair-dusted skin - something you’re still taking in.
“Not you,” Wade clarifies - a hand smoothing down your back.
Your thighs press together, squirming already, as his hips settle just shy of the soft curve of your ass. A shift, as he gets comfortable - the weight of his stiff cock dipping against your skin.
“I’m talking to king dong right here.”
There’s a rough scoff, “Don’t talk to my dick, Wilson.”
“Well someone has to. He told me he’s lonely, poor thing. Always what you doing, not how you doing. Isn’t that right, big guy?”
“Alright,” Logan scowls, a hand bracing on the headboard as he lifts up, “I’m out of-”
He chokes on the sound, as your tongue peeks out to lap at his shaft.
It’s pretty - flushed at the tip, as it rests against his thigh. A thickening twitch as you kiss along his hard length, down to the dark, wiry hair - a hushed groan as he sags back into place.
“Didn’t get to taste you last time.” You murmur, fingers wrapping around the base, “Been thinking about this.”
Stroking against skin, as you take him into your mouth. A soft moan in your throat, as he fills you - the tip skating across your tongue.
“‘s right,” Wade comments, with another roll of his hips. Thumb pressing against the tip, angling him down to tease as your entrance, “Gotta level the playing field, gorgeous.”
A glance up at Logan, eyes narrowing as he smirks.
“We’re totally pussy pals now, bee tee dubs. Both opened the gates of Mordor. Took ole one-eye to the same optometrist.”
The annoyed groan you make turns soft, as he starts a lazy rhythm with his hips. Knowing how to wind you up - skating his length against your slit, as try to take another inch down your throat. Cheeks hollowing as you suck, tongue tracing the underside of his tip.
“Counting down the days until we’re cock comrades,” He adds, with a friendly pat against your ass - before he sends Logan a wink, “But I’m willing to wait for marriage. Know you’re old-school, peanut.”
There’s a pull of Logan’s brow. A scowl, as he shifts - the movement nudging him deeper into your mouth. Distracting him from the sharp retort as you moan, the sound buzzing against his cock.
He meets your eyes, half-lidded. A hand coming to cup your jaw, urge you to take just a little more.
“Cold day in hell before that happens.”
It’s gritted out, half-hearted as your head bobs. A slow stroke of your fist across spit-slick skin - his hips lifting, chasing you.
“I dunno,” Wade coos. Eyes dropping down to the leaking tip of his cock. His thumb pressing against the curve of your ass - tugging you open so he can watch how he sinks into you.
“I have a way of making people beg.”
You whimper, as he inches into you. Mouth full, spit pooling on your tongue. It almost overwhelming, to be between them like this.
The pleasurable warmth that loops through you, your eyes sliding shut. Leading into Logan’s touch as Wade splits you open, leaving you squirming.
There’s a shift, as his hands slip to flatten against the mattress. A smooth drag as he surges forward - hilting himself with a final roll of his hips.
It makes you gasp, even with how slick you are. Clenching down around the cock that fills you - eagerness flickering in your belly, as you life your hips to take him deeper.
“Fuck, baby. So fucking tight.” Wade moans appreciatively. Slipping half-way out, only to watch how your ass sways when he fills you again, “Gonna turn my dick into a goddamn diamond. Emma Frost this shit.”
Another thrust sending you forward. A rhythm starting - sinking back onto Wade’s cock when to rock back, your throat relaxing when you take Logan further.
Your jaw has to open wide take him. There’s a throb against your tongue as he nudges at your throat. A rattling gasp when you’re shifting back again.
“Feels good, sweetheart,” Logan coos - his hands curving around your throat, fingertips at the base of your neck, “Think you can take more?”
The praise stokes the fire in your belly. Eyes wide as you nod - Wade slowing as you angle your head.
“Oh yeah, she can.” Wade purrs.
Watching as you try to take more, until your nose is brushing the coarse hairs at his base. The air burning in your lungs as you hold your breath.
A gasp, when you pull off him. Leaving you to kiss and suck at his tip, lips slick with spit.
You ache for them - your other hand wedging between your hips and the mattress. A whine when your fingers circle, slipping against slick skin.
It sends your nerves alight, with the way Wade grinds himself into you. His cock dragging against your walls, nudging against a sensitive spot inside you - you can feel your thoughts starting to go hazy.
“You think she gets wet from kissing? Fuck, you should feel her now.” There’s a rough thrust, the slap of skin against skin.
There’s a pressure against your back, as Wade dips down. His chest pressing against your shoulders - caging you in as his cheek nudges against yours.
A kiss dropped against your shoulder.
“You get a little slutty with a dick in your mouth, baby?” His voice goes soft and low - teasing.
“That’s okay, I do too.”
His words make you moan. He’s deeper like this, filling you with shallow thrusts. A hand tucking beneath you, cupping a breast.
A rough groan in your ear, “Makes me wonder… why am I letting you have all the fun?”
Logan’s hips lift on their own accord. A bitten-back sound, trapped in throat as you register what he means.
Your head angling to make room for your boyfriend, lips trailing down to press against his base. A tilt of your fist, holding Logan’s cock for him steady as you smile.
“Room for two, honey.”
There’s the twitch of Logan’s hands against your skin, his grip tightening in your hair. His eyes dark when you glance up at him. A heave to his chest, lips parted as the tip of his cock slips past Wade’s lips.
“Fuck.” It’s gritted out.
His hand leaves your neck to hook against Wade’s shoulder, fingers pinching into skin. A muffled sound caught in his throat, as Wade pulls off him and grins.
Twin kisses pressed against his shaft. You travel up this time, tongue tracing over the thick vein. Logan’s jaw clenching, teeth grinding together.
“Don’t hold back on us, daddy long leg.” Wade hums, smirking, “As if you didn’t cream your panties the last time I did this.”
A drag of his tongue against Logan’s sack, and the moan loosens. Words coming with it, the next time you trade - kisses pressed against the seam, as Wade takes the shaft into his throat.
“Oh shit,” It’s panted out, “That’s it, put that fucking mouth to good use.”
There’s a groan, with the bob of his head. Your own lifts as you watch, a soft hum as you kiss his throat. Watching the way his eyes flutter shut, brow pinching as he tries to take him further.
“You’re not used to something this big, are you baby?” You coo, “Gonna need some help?”
“Fuck.” Wade laughs, as he pulls off him - the sound strangled, as the rock of his hips goes sloppy, “Teaming up me. Don’t bully me, I’ll-”
He moans, when Logan’s hand presses on the back of his head, urging him back down. Your teeth sinking into your lip as you grin - a kiss pressed against Wade’s cheek, then chin.
A shift, until the tip slips from his mouth, and then you’re sharing it - messy, spit-slick lips against skin. Open-mouthed, tasting him, tasting Logan, as you rock back to meet his thrusts.
“Fuck, I dreamed about this.” It slips from Logan. Hushed, you almost miss it in the hazy swirls of your mind.
It shoots through you, straight to your clit. Your efforts doubled - you like how messy it is, the brush of his tongue against yours. The hand between your thighs bracing on the mattress instead so you can twist further, the other pulling his mouth to fully meet yours.
There’s a ragged moan, as Wade’s body goes taut. His face burying in your shoulder as he ruts into you - two more shallow thrusts before he’s spilling with a rough moan inside.
Grinding against you, pumping himself into your tight warmth until the throbbing pulse of his cock ebbs. Until you’ve milked him empty, his come painting your walls.
“It’s too much,” Wade gasps, lips curling up at the edges. Teeth nipping at your skin, “You two are gonna kill me-”
Logan huffs - eyes dark, “If fucking you to death was an option, our fight would’ve gone a lot differently.”
“Look at you,” It’s wheezed against your skin, an eye cracking open, “Another joke.”
Logan hums, more amusement than annoyance. A hand slipping from Wade’s shoulder, wrapping around his base. A slow squeeze in front of you, as your eyes widen.
“Supposed to be taking care of you.” Your smile is sheepish, “Sorry, Logan.”
Too caught up in sharing him - the weight against your tongue, how the tip slipped between pressed-together lips - to concentrate on your goal.
“You are.” It comes out rough - another squeeze. Angling it down, tapping the tip against your tongue when your mouth opens.
“Know you want a taste baby, but I’m not coming ‘til you do.”
You groan, as you suck him. As he feeds his cock to you, still stroking at the base. Feeling empty when Wade eases from you, hands at your hips - coaxing you to your knees for him.
“Human centipede, got it.” Wade grins - kissing down your back. Teeth sinking into the curve of your ass, as you hiss, “Better save some for me, gorgeous. Sharing is caring.”
You jolt, when his mouth presses against you.
Practiced swirls of his tongue, fingers that replace his cock. The needy rut of him inside you has been edging you since he started - and as you watch the way Logan watches both of you, it’s not long before you feel that tell-tale twist inside you, that pressure that winds tight.
Logan growls - all rasping voice and pinched brow. His lips parted, thighs inching wider as you let you hands wander across the thick muscles of his thighs.
Tracing over his fingers and lower, cupping him. A sharp hiss - his fist squeezing at his base, holding himself back.
“Come on, sweetheart. Let me give you what you want.”
It’s as close as you’ve heard to begging. A moan as the fingers curl and sink inside you. Teasing swipe of a tongue, dipping down to press against your hole. Panting breaths turning into whimpers, as Logan’s cock brushes over your lips.
Wade’s lips close around your clit, and with the pound of his fingers, that string inside you snaps. Pleasure arcs through you, crackling up your spine.
Eyes half-lidded as you moan, the plunge of his fingers drawing out your orgasm. Muscles tensing as he teases at the sensitive bud - sharp, pointed licks that leave your toes curling.
Logan’s fist moves faster, as he watches you come undone in front of him. A hand curving around your chin to keep it in place - a thumb hooking around your teeth to keep your lips parted.
“Good fuckin’ girl, that’s it.” Logan growls, “Open your mouth for me, there you go.”
You open wider, just in time to catch the ropes of come that spill across your tongue. Taking him into your mouth, tongue lapping at the sensitive head as Logan moans. His fist working himself empty into your mouth, pulsing against your tongue.
“Can’t believe I’m saying this,” Wade’s hands press against your hips as he shifts beside you, “But don’t you fucking swallow.”
His hands joining Logan’s, tilting your head to mouth to the side - thumbing at your lip.
“Open.” Wade grits out - a sharp hiss when he sees how you hold it on your tongue, just before his mouth presses to yours.
Something thrumming in your belly, as he licks into your mouth. You’ve never shared anything quite like this before - the heady mix against your tongue. The moan that slides from you, echoing with the buzz in Wade’s throat.
The look of hunger in Logan’s eyes, when the kiss breaks. Lips glossy with your messy kiss, as his hands close around your biceps. It’s easy, with his strength, to tug you up until you’re straddling him.
His half-hard cock trapped against his slick core as he pulls you close. You laugh as your knees press into the mattress, a hand braced on his chest.
“Okay,” You hum, eyes dragging down, “This time, you lay back. Let me take care of everything.”
The murmured “fuck” against your lips, before his mouth presses to yours. Hips canting upward, seeking your heat.
And if you were a betting girl…
You’d bet this wasn’t a two-time thing, either.
Wade stretches out, cat-like. A matching lazy grin, as he peers out of one eye up at Logan, using a thigh like a pillow.
“Never thought I’d visit Paris,” He sighs, “Much less twice in one night. Good thing I’d been saving those frequent flyer miles.”
A yawn, muffled with the back of his hand, “Though I guess it’s not your first time though. Eh, Valjean?”
Logan grunts, the sound buzzing beneath your ear, where you head cradles against his chest. Muscles still burning from riding him, until his hands had hooked under your thighs to help.
Your leg stretches out now as you doze - boneless - hooking around his other thigh, as his fingers trace patterns on your skin.
“And don’t you think I didn’t hear that you dreamed about this,” Wade props himself up on an elbow - never one to let a comfortable silence linger.
A finger reaching out to poke his roommate in the ribs, “You catching feelings, peanut?”
Logan’s eyes roll, as he bats the hand away - nudging you to the side so he can ease carefully out from under you.
“Don’t ruin it.”
Swinging his legs around until he can push himself up - his ear to the door for a heartbeat until it’s swinging open.
“You’re coming back, right?” You ask, groggy - the words murmured out into the dim room.
His head turns, glancing back as he turns. You can catch the way his eyes soften, a thumb hitched over a shoulder toward the bathroom.
“Yeah, sweetheart.” He rasps, “Just grabbing somethin’ to clean you up.”
“I’ll be right back.”
thanks for reading! 💖 I have three more nights I’ve been wanting to explore with them (next one being the old dp with dp+w), so hopefully will have that up soon!
tags: Logan POV, MMF threesome, jealous!logan, reader is wade's girl, mutual pining/crushes all around, voyeurism, dirty talk, open relationship, oral sex, fingering, Logan doms both of them, 69ing, fucklicking, ball worship, come eating, PiV
a/n: I want them to kiss and I also want them to kiss reader to here this is! 💕
Right now, all he can hear is Wade running his goddamn mouth. Drowning out the sounds you make - so fuckin’ pretty, and the prick is too busy listening to himself to appreciate it.
There’s one thing that Logan knows for sure - and it’s that Wade’s not doing it right. Not like he would.
(or - Logan tries to shut Wade up, and it doesn’t quite go as expected)
Logan can hear Wade from here.
Running that goddamn mouth already, and the sun’s only barely up.
Can hear you, too. The little whimpers that you try bite back. He can imagine the way your teeth sink into your lip - the thought has him shifting in his chair, breakfast forgotten.
So fuckin’ pretty, and the prick is too busy listening to himself to appreciate it.
Knows he could make you even louder, too. It’s almost like he’s at the mansion again, looking at another toy he can’t touch.
What a waste.
The sounds crescendo, the chanting of a name layered with that endless babble that makes his teeth grind, before the sound breaks.
Trying not to look interested when the door opens a few minutes later. Snatching up the newspaper that’s been sitting on the cluttered tabletop for a month now, flicking it open.
Ignoring how Wade strolls out, adjusting the waistband on a pair of grey sweats that are hanging way too low on his hips for comfort.
Rummaging around for a bottle of water, the glow of the fridge illuminating the curve of his ass. The cut of the pants look familiar, Logan's eyes narrowing as he wonders if those are his missing pair-
The edge of the paper flicking up again into place again, just as Wade stretches - bending further, before the bottle is snatched from the back.
Logan huffs.
“Hey roomie,” Wade hums, flicking the cap at him. It sails through the air, disappearing into his forgotten cup of coffee with a little 'plunk', “Don’t let me interrupt that killer Ed Tom Bell impression you’ve got going on, just hydrating for round two.”
“Ooh,” A cock of his hip, as he turns - head tilting as he thinks, “Does that make me Josh Brolin? God, I love him.”
“That’s all?” Logan’s eyebrows lift as he sneers - ignoring another reference he doesn’t understand, “Been going at it for a while.”
As soon as he says it, he regrets it. Opening himself up for an attack. He can already hear the sing-song response at the admittance that he’s been listening.
Screwing the Pavlovian pooch, with the way that he's more than aware that his dick’s half-hard. The result of taking care of himself one too many times - an attempt at getting himself back to sleep, pretending that he isn’t jerking himself off to the beat of the frame that bangs against the walls.
Luckily, Wade zeros in on the exact wrong part. Sputtering, as water drips down his chin, “That’s all? What do you mean, that’s all?”
“You heard me,” The paper crinkles in his fist, “In fact, I’m surprised you even got round one off. Much less that she’s sticking around for another.”
“You wound me, and yet, flatter.” Wade’s hand flattens over his heart, “I never knew you thought about me like that.”
“I haven’t been thinking about you, you ass,” Logan snarls, teeth bared, “I just know that if you’re talking, then you’re not doing it right.”
Wade grins at that, teeth scraping over his lower lip as they stretch wide.
Eyes flicking over his form, assessing in a way that has Logan bristling - voice going syrupy-smooth, “Is that right? You think you can do better, mutton chops?”
The breath he inhales is ragged. That feeling back again - an urge to curl his hand around Wade’s throat, and squeeze.
“Yeah,” Logan growls out, “Yeah, I fucking do.”
The table shakes as Wade plops himself down on the edge, a leg crossing over the other. Interest gleaming in his eyes as his head tilts towards the bedroom door.
“Alright. Bring on the magic tricks, Angier.” His hands splay wide, wiggling, “Gonna show me how to make your fingers disappear?”
Logan glares, his eyes flicking down to where the fleece pulls across his hips.
“Right.” He spits, “Like you’ve got another in you?”
“Hey now, pookums. Marvel Jesus, remember?” Wade’s hand makes a sweeping gesture in front of his crotch, “Just give me three minutes and I’ll have risen.”
“That’s disgusting.” Logan barks, “And get off the table.”
If anything, it makes Wade sit harder. His legs pivoting until he can spread his thighs on either side of the paper, ankles dangling off the edge.
“Disgusting?” His tone pitches up, “Says the man that’s rocking a stiffy. Gonna jerk it at the breakfast table when I leave? You know Blind Al eats there.”
The paper twitches reflexivity in his hands, and Wade’s smile pulls wider as Logan shoots him a death glare, lips curling over teeth.
“Why the fuck would I do something like that?”
Wade hums, “Call it an educated wish.”
“Call it an educated get-the-fuck-out-of-here.” Logan scoffs. His eyes flicking towards the bedroom, the door still shut, “You’re talking like she wants this.”
Wade’s finger presses at the edge of the newspaper he’s hiding behind, and Logan bats his hand away.
He’s still not gotten used to all the skin, he doesn’t know where to look. The slightest shift back in his chair, but he’s already pressed up against the wall.
“Oh please, as if we don’t take turns roleplaying as you,” Wade sighs longingly, “This would be a wet dream come true.”
His eyes narrow then, as his tongue runs across his lip. Voice dropping again, coaxing.
“Look,” Wade says it like he’s leveling with him - talking man-to-man,“If you wanted to fuck her, peanut, all you had to do was ask.”
And for a moment, Logan truly considers it. Not just the fantasy that’s been playing through his head for weeks.
Weirder shit has happened, he supposed.
He’s already been claw-deep into Wade’s guts. A brawl in that shitty van that lasted until morning. Bound tip-to-tip in the void for god knows how long.
Getting walked in on in the bathroom at least twice in the last month. A gleeful “mind if I cut in?”, before Logan’s fist is sending him into the vanity.
The last time it took a full week to get the sink fixed.
Not to mention that Wade apparently seems so certain that his clothes were now their clothes.
So fucking keen on sharing.
So it wasn’t a stretch to think he might want to share you, too.
There’s something caught between his teeth, heavy on his tongue. About to loosen, when the door is opening.
Swallowing them down as you step through, thighs bare under a too-big t-shirt. Arms wrapping around Wade’s shoulders as your lips press against his cheek.
“Thought you were coming back, Red.” You coo. Drawn out by the sound of bickering as you had basked in your afterglow.
“Morning, Logan.” A smile sent his way after, turning sheepish, “You’re up early. Hope we didn’t wake you.”
He grunts in reply. Pretending there wasn’t a little jolt in his stomach at the sound of his name. That he hadn’t been thinking about spreading you across this table, lifting the hem of your shirt up-
If he’d been in your bed, no one would have had to wonder.
The whole damn floor would’ve been woken up.
“He thinks I fuck bad, so I’m gonna prove he’s wrong,” Wade adds in, cheerfully, “That okay with you, gorgeous?”
Logan glares over the top of his paper. A rough clearing in his throat as your eyebrows lift, glancing his way.
He hadn’t really meant to bring you into this, or at least, that’s what he’s telling himself.
That eye contact dropping, as you lean into Wade, your chin propped on his shoulder, “Is that right? How are you going to do that?”
Logan’s answer comes out flat, as he examines an ad in the bottom corner of the page,“I’m not doing anything.”
Wade sighs, his head knocking back against your shoulder.
“Come on, Wolvie. I would love for you to prove me wrong,” He needles, digging deep, “Put your money where my cock should be.”
Logan still doesn’t look up, “Not interested, I’m busy.”
The sigh that pulls from his lungs is long, a near-whine.
“What, with reading?” He exclaims, “Jesus you really are old. The retirement home called, they’re missing a resident.”
Logan’s eyes snap up now, narrowing, “Fuck. Off.”
With a sigh, Wade fucks off. Legs curling, until he’s rolling off the table. Your hand fitting in his, a water bottle tucked under your arm as you head back towards the room.
“The offer still stands!” He calls.
A beat, before you turn.
“Logan?” You call, as he’s helpless - his eyes pulling away. Drawn to you.
A little wink sent his way. Your finger gesturing towards his chest, as you smile.
“Your paper’s upside down.”
Logan’s still not quite sure how he got here. His feet moving on his own, fingers catching the bedroom door just as it starts to close.
Almost backing out when he sees the look of Wade’s face, pleased as fucking punch.
Standing by the edge of the bed now, as you kneel on it in front of him. Fingers slipping across his chest - curious, with the way your eyes flicker over his face. Eager, though you hide it well.
“So what exactly did you tell Wade to get him so worked up?” Your fingers twine around his neck, as his find your hips.
He hums at that - flicking towards his roommate before they find yours again.
“All I said was that if I can hear his mouth running from out there,” Logan’s fingers dent into soft skin, tugging you closer, “He can’t be doing a good job.”
There’s a shift off to the side. Wade sinking down into the beanbag chair he pulled up,“Can you believe that? As if I don’t have a good grade in my oral and my dickabilties.”
“A gold star, babe.” You shoot him a tender smile, before they focus on Logan again. Shoulder lifting, as your grin grows, “I mean, Merc with a Mouth, right? Seems like part of the package.”
He huffs, eyes dropping to your lips.
“You think it’s good,” Logan’s tone is almost pitying, “But it’s only because you haven’t had better.”
That pulls a gasp from your throat, eyebrows lifting.
“Yeah, I think you’re trying to emasculate me, but honestly…” Wade’s hand splays wide over his crotch, “Sploosh.”
“Sploosh.” You echo softly, and he can feel you shift closer. Can smell the fresh curl of arousal that heats your skin, as his hands ghost higher. A small smile, as your head tilts, “So you just all talk then, or…”
“No.” Logan scoffs, “No, I’m not.”
He closes the gap, more certain now. Mouth pressing against yours, as you squeak - tense in his arms, until you go liquid.
Soft tits pressed to his chest as his tongue sweeps against your lips. Swallowing a pretty moan as they part for him, his own groan rumbling in his chest as his hands wander.
Slipping down, ghosting against skin. Feeling the goosebumps that rise, as he draws circles against your hip. His name whimpered, and it shoots straight to his cock.
Not even a heartbeat, before the chatter begins.
“Bet your pussy’s wet already, isn’t it baby?” He coos, “A kiss like that, it’s even got me a little worked up. And I’m just producing this show.”
Logan’s eyes crack open as he glares, “You’re not producing shit, asshole.”
“Ooh, I bet you SO wish you worded that in a different way-”
You huff against his mouth, your touch guiding him back. The thought lingers, curiosity burning. Letting his fingers toy with the hem of your shirt, knuckles brushing your thigh.
Tracing around to the curve of your ass, his wide palm splaying out, then squeezing against bare flesh.
“Is he right?” He rasps, his lips brushing against yours. Half-hating that he’s letting Wade get in his head, but the thought-
You gasp again, and his teeth flash with his smirk, “Are you wet for me already, sweetheart?”
“She’s been since she first saw you. Goddamn Niagara Falls,” Wade’s voice has softened - teasing now, “Isn’t that right, gorgeous?”
An amused shake of your head, as something silent passes between them. Logan doesn’t pretend to know how your relationship works - other than the fact that Wade was willing to do anything to save this world for you.
And that there’s something inside him that tightens - a flicker in his belly - whenever he looks at you. Whenever Wade flirts with him. That sharp annoyance from their meeting slowly bleeding out with each day goes by.
Something else taking root, the more time he spends with both of you. He’s not good with his emotions. Doesn’t want to name that ache when he saw you together.
A silent wish, with his shifting daydreams. With the jerk of his fist in the morning. Imaging you in his bed, at first. And then, more - two sets of hands. Two mouths at his cock, and then he’s suddenly coming harder than he has before.
He’s become greedy, the more you both give him.
“Show me.” It’s a command, soft and low.
Logan can feel your thighs press together, that little squirm. Tucking this new discovery away as you lean back, eyes dark with desire.
The briefest hesitance, before your fingers loosen from him. Slipping down, under the hem of your shirt. The nails on your other hand bite into his shoulder as you sigh - two fingers gliding through the wet folds of your pussy.
Pulling them back for him to see. Glistening, your arousal stringing between them. His hand is already curling around your wrist. No resistance as he tugs - guiding your fingers past his lips as they part.
Sucking the sweet taste of you as he groans, deep in his chest. Eyes fixed on yours so he can see the way yours widen, feeling how your fingers flex against the swipe of his tongue.
“Logan.” You sigh his name, and it only makes his moan - eyes shutting as you press down against his tongue. The need slipping into your voice, pleading.
“I wanna feel your mouth. Show me, too,” You sigh, as you slip from him, “Show me what you meant.”
Christ, he’s been aching for this. Eager to drown himself in your pussy, if you’d let him.
There’s a sharp clap that forces his eyes open. Wade’s enthusiasm as he drags the bag closer, chin cradled in his hands.
“Yeah, Logan. You gonna show us your dickabilites, or what?”
He shoots him a withering look. Softening before he turns to you, his chin tipping up.
“Lay back on the bed for me, sweetheart.”
You listen so sweetly, and it makes his cock throb. A quick dart of your eyes over to your boyfriend, who only nods.
“Take that off, baby,” Wade coos, “Show him how pretty you are.”
He’s not sure when he started letting Wade make orders, but for once he’s not wanting to argue about his suggestions.
Because fuck, you are pretty. No arguing with that.
Letting his eyes sweep over every inch that is revealed, as you lift the hem of your shirt. The curve of your hips, your soft tits that he can’t wait to get his mouth on.
Baring yourself, as you lean back against the pillows. His eyes are fixed on your cunt, already fitting himself between your thighs. Fingers reaching - ready to part you open. Taste you himself, bury his tongue inside you.
Your hand reaches out, pushing against his shoulder.
“Wait, you too.” You pout, “Let’s play fair, okay?”
He huffs, lips quirking. Hands catching the hem as he tugs his own shirt off, Wade diving for it as he tossed it towards the floor.
Twin gasps rise, and if he was a much younger man, he may have blushed.
“Fuck.” Wade groans, a hand dropping down his crotch and squeezing.
You’re already leaning forward, a hand flattening against his skin. A soft "wow" slipping from your lips - feeling the way his muscles jump as you slide over his pecs, the thick hair covering them.
A hand hooking around his shoulder - a smirk hidden as you tug him down on top of you.
Soft, beneath him. Those needy whines he loves so much caught between your teeth as he noses at your neck. Teeth nipping at skin, an urge to leave a mark for later.
That cry finally loosened as he moves down. Teeth and tongue biting and soothing at the tight peaks of your nipples. Broad hands cupping and squeezing, liking the way they fit in his palms. The way you moan, arching into his touch.
“Give me more of that,” He murmurs against your skin, "I want to hear you."
Your body tensing beneath his when he settles between your thighs. They have to spread, to fit his shoulders. Opening you up, putting you on display.
Watching how you clench - a throaty chuckle as his thumb presses just shy of your folds. Tugging you open, seeing how your skin glistens with slick already.
“Pretty fucking sight, you know that?” His eyes flip up to yours.
You’re propped up on your elbows. Teeth sinking into your lip, breath held as your eyebrows slant in anticipation. Lips parting with his words, a minute shift of your hips.
“You should see it when it’s stuffed full. Boston cream's got nothing on her."
There’s an embarrassed groan of his name. Logan ignores him - letting his thumb rub against the tight nub of your clit, instead. Your word turning into a sharp, inhaled breath.
Teasing, each circle achingly slow. Aware of the two sets of eyes on him, burning his skin. A low ache in his belly, his glaze fixing on yours, watching as you inhale as his mouth lowers.
A soft lick, tongue lapping against your slit. Tasting you more thoroughly, dragging against soaked skin, as his fingers tease at your entrance.
Focusing on your clit, tight flicks with his tongue. Letting his lips suck on the tight bud, as he sinks down to one knuckle, then another. A second finger slipping in once you get used to him, making room for himself as he scissors you open.
He can hear the soft, wet sound of your cunt, with each plunge of his fingers. Flexing and curling them until he can feel you clamp down.
The quiet sounds you make - soft breaths and gasps - turning louder. Panting now, as you whine. Hips lifting to meet the curl of his tongue, until he pulls back.
“Should be hearing this,” Logan grits out. A quick glance towards Wade as his fingers pound into you, “Not you talking out of your ass.”
There’s silence for a long moment, the words coming out distracted.
“You talk about my ass an awful lot for a man who pretends he's not interested,” Wade manages, slowly, “You change your mind about that, too?”
His breath shallow, as Logan growls in annoyance. Attention returning back to you. Fingers working faster, head dropping again to tongue at your clit.
A leg hooks over his shoulder - a heel digging into his back, tugging him closer. Logan loses himself - growling into your pussy. His own hips pressing down into the bed, as he tugs at his belt and button, relieving the too-tight ache of denim.
Feeling how you leak against his palm, tighten around his fingers. Chase that winding pleasure as you arch into his mouth. A hand drifting off the bed, reaching. Grasping.
“Logan.” You’re begging again, pleading. For more, for anything. For him not to stop, and he leans into the way you tug at his hair, guiding him to the right spot.
You come with your fingers entwined with Wade’s. With your thighs clamped against Logan's ears as he rips a cry from you - long and loud - threatening to suffocate him.
Would be the way he’d choose to die, if he could.
The sounds come flooding back, as your thighs loosen. Boneless and languid, your smile wide as your fingers trace his scruff, the sharp curve of his jaw.
Perhaps he was wrong, to think he could silence Wade entirely. Your orgasm has only made him more vocal - complaints about how “fucking hard he is” mixing with rambling praise.
“Wilson.” He finds himself growling. Beckoning with two fingers, as Wade practically springs from the bag.
“Oh my GOD,” Wade is gushing, clambering onto the bed with him, “This is way better than joining the Avengers. Even if they do have Thor.”
“Huge praise.” You smile drunkenly, pushing yourself up to press your mouth against his.
And under his direct instructions, Logan finds that Wade almost listens.
“Get on your back,” He points, as you scooch to make room.
"Ooh, dirty." Wade grins, splaying out on his back, hands tucked under his head.
“No,” Logan makes a frustrated sound - ignoring another comment. A twirl of his finger, “The other way.”
His head is cradled near your hips now, legs stretched out toward the pillows.
Logan’s next words are a growl, “Now, clean her up.”
Wade groans, as he catches up.
“Fuck.” He whines, “Yeah. Come here, baby.”
Hands guiding you into place, your knees framing his head, as you face towards the headboard. Wade’s mouth already tipping up to meet you, a soft moan as his tongue swipes against your slit.
“I don’t want to hear you until she comes.” Logan rasps, and he can see the way Wade’s hips lift.
Just now catching the darkened fabric, where it tents.
Another thing to catalog.
Content for now to let his hands drift as he stands behind you at the edge of the bed, his chest pressing to your back. Sucking a mark in the hollow under your ear, feeling the buzz of your whine against his lips.
Hands cupping your breasts again, feeling their weight. Pinching at the tight peaks, before his thumb is smoothing over them.
Your eyes are blown wide, fingers curling against your thighs. Panting as the overstimulation tips towards pleasure, the feel of the sweet mouth below you soft and familiar.
Shifting as you sit, rocking back to where Logan’s cock presses against your lower back. His hands tugging at the zipper, shoving his jeans down as he works himself free. Kicking them off, after.
You gasp when you see him from over your shoulder, and he can’t help the way he twitches in his hand at the sound. Can’t pretend he isn’t leaking from tasting you, his cock heavy as he lets go to let it hang between his thighs.
“Fuck, that’s not fair.” It’s muffled, and you hum in agreement as Wade lifts you to get a better look, “God didn’t make you perfect enough as-is? Just had to make you proportional, you goddamn stallion.”
A derisive sound as his arm wiggles out from under you, fingers reaching.
“And Jesus H. Christ, look at the girth-”
Logan bats his hand away.
It should annoy him. That Wade isn’t listening. That he’s commenting on his cock - but it doesn’t.
Can’t help but think that in here, in this room, the chatter isn’t so bad. Would never admit that he’s wrong, just that when he’s admiring and not on a dumb-as-fuck tangent, it’s almost - flattering.
Maybe that’s too far. Tolerable, perhaps.
“You want my mouth?” You offer sweetly, breaking into his thoughts. Hungrily.
There’s a flash of white teeth as Logan smiles. A hand pressing gently against your back, until you’re stretched out over Wade.
“No. I’m still gonna fuck you, baby.” He rasps, “Just wanted a little peace and quiet while doing it.”
You moan, thighs inching wider. Head turned so you can watch the way he moves behind you. Adjusting your hips until your ass is in the air, his fingers gripping the base of his cock as he lines himself up.
“Keep going, Wilson.” He grits out, when the man goes still beneath them.
A rough chuckle rattles.
“Not a fucking chance, human tripod. I am SO watching this.”
Fuck it. He lets him.
Letting the tip of his cock press against your entrance. Wade’s arms curling around your thighs, holding you in place as you string tight above him.
“God, it’s even bigger from this angle. Feels like I’m in a goddamn eclipse right now.”
“Why do you sound surprised, babe?” Your voice is strained. Face buried against Wade’s stomach, fingers curled in the sheets, “I thought you guys fucked in the void.”
That fleeting curl of warmth leaves him.
“We what?” Logan growls, leaning back to glare at the peek of dark brown eyes, the top of a bald head he wants to slap.
Teeth bared, as he snarls, “We didn’t fuck. I beat the shit out of him in a goddamn van.”
“All night long.” Wade laughs - and then sighs fondly, “And isn’t that just the same thing?”
Fingers encircle his cock from below before he can retort, squeezing. A tug as he guides him into the tight clench of your pussy, and Logan thinks he really should just shove his claws into Wade’s dick.
But that desire bleeds away, as you stretch around him. The twin groans from beneath him, the sounds blending together.
“Oh,” You moan, clenching around him. Back arching, as he slips in another inch, “Makes sense. Was… was just wondering why it took you so long to join us.”
Logan goes still for a moment, with this new information. A realization that he could have had this the whole time, if he had asked.
That Wade hadn’t been joking before.
He groans, hips snapping forward. A grunt below as your knees squeeze against Wade’s throat, but from the way you squirm, Logan can tell that his mouth is at work again.
Teasing at your clit, as his own hips slowly start to move. Feet planting on the bedroom floor as his hands fit against his waist.
Using the leverage to drive himself deep. Hips flush as his balls slap against your skin, growing sticky with your release.
“This is hot, this is so fucking hot,” Wade groans, babbling as he sucks in a breath, “I’m so going to jerk my dick raw thinking about this later.”
And with the reminder, he supposes he can throw his roommate a bone.
“Come on, baby,” Logan rasps - reaching. A little nudge against your chin, angling your head, “Looks like he needs a little help.”
It’s benevolent. It’s selfish - his fingers biting into skin as you realize what he means. Watching as you tug at the waistband of Wade’s sweatpants, pushing them down.
The man moans, from between your thighs. Sweet nothings mumbled as your hand wraps around his cock, angling it into your waiting mouth.
Watching how the leaking tip presses into your cheek. The buck of his hips as you fist moves, while you suck - your spit slicking up his cock.
It looks like the rest of him. Mottled skin, the tip flushed a deeper shade of red. Long and thick in your hand - Logan’s cock throbbing at the way you swallow him down, how your lips part to make him fit.
His pace picking up. Pounding into your tight, wet cunt as Wade groans against your clit. Tongue lapping and licking, winding you higher as Logan drives you towards a second.
Slowly drifting, as the flicks of his tongue grow longer. The tip pressing against your folds, as you groan around his cock.
Further down. Tasting the tang of your release - the salt of skin where you’re split open, stretched wide.
And then further. Logan jerks, as something wet drags along his shaft.
“Wade.” It comes out as a rough growl. Pitching into a huffing whine when it happens again, flattening against the heavy weight of his balls.
Choking him, as his rhythm stutters. Hips flexing into you as he grinds himself flush, teeth gritting.
“Fuck.” It’s hushed, pulled from his lungs.
Having to find himself again - hold back the urge to come right that second - as you squirm beneath him. Wade’s tongue traveling from your clit to the tight seam of his sack, his hips rocking in your mouth.
Finding a rhythm together, Logan’s head tilting back. The room filled with lewd sounds of their joining, of wet mouths and the rhythmic pounding of the headboard against the wall.
Lucky that Al was out for the morning, or else they’d never hear the end of it.
Your cries pitch up, as his cock drags against the spot his fingers found. Something clenching deep in his guts, eyes dragging down to how you look wrapped around him. The pink peek of tongue beneath, how the combination makes his toes curl.
Imagining another morning. Sharing you in another way, his cock buried in your ass while your lover fills your cunt. Whimpering between them, unable to form words.
The sound you make now are not that different - the cadence of your panting is one he’s coming to recognize.
“You close, sweetheart?” He rasps, arcing over you, “Can feel your pussy clenching around me. So fucking tight, can’t wait to feel you come all over my cock.”
It pulls a moan from you, head lifting from Wade’s cock. Resting against his stomach, as your hand wraps around him. The jerk of your fist messy, off rhythm.
“Yeah, you are.” Logan hums, as his hips rut into you, “Come on, Wilson. Make our girl come.”
There’s a rough groan. Wade listens for once, head tilting to suck at your clit. Logan concentrating on the angle that makes you cry out, a hand fisting in the sheets.
Their names a mumbled mess on your lips, as you’re yanked higher and higher. Your moans pitching up, growing louder.
Just like his dreams. Even better, really.
“Please,” You whine, “I’m, I’m-”
A high-pitched gasp, then, as your face buries against Wade’s hips. As your pussy clamps down around his cock, fluttering with the steady saw of his hips.
“Good fucking girl.” The praise is soft, as his thumbs rub circles against your skin, “That’s it, let him taste how sweet you are.”
Working together, the tight licks against your clit going lazy again. Dipping to your entrance to taste your release against his shaft, Wade’s cock leaking and bobbing against his stomach.
Drawing out your pleasure, until the stars fade from your half-lidded eyes. Until the rushing in your veins ebb, and the pulse around his cock fades.
A low sigh, before Logan’s reaching - his chin tucking against your shoulder. His hand curling around yours, guiding it back to Wade's cock.
“Don’t forget about him.” Another command, but gentle this time. His hand moving with yours, palm mapping your knuckles as he sets a rhythm, “There you go.”
He could let go. You’ve found yourself again, eyes hazy. But he keeps his hand there. Keeps a pace that is so much firmer than your own, his own hips matching the rhythm as he chases his own end.
Wade’s groan replaces yours. A hand leaving your thigh to wrap around his, biting down hard into muscle. It only drives him deeper into you. Logan’s own moan bitten back as the tongue against his dick slips against his sack again.
Then against the thin layer of skin just behind, teasing.
“Fuck.” It’s a rough growl.
His hand works faster, teeth gritting. Feral sounds caught in his throat, as the pressure in his belly grows.
The last thing he sees before he comes is the drips of white against his knuckles. The warmth, a ragged groan against the inside of his thigh. Your mouth closing around to catch the rest, taking Wade’s cock into your throat with a soft sigh.
It robs him of his breath. A shuddering moan, as he grinds himself deep. Spilling into you again and again with each pulse of his cock, blood rushing in his ears.
Legs threatening to give as he empties himself, as his chest presses flush against your back. His face buried in your hair, as your tongue traces his knuckles. Cleaning them, as he did for you.
When he can, Logan eases from you with a grunt. Watching how you gape, then clench, now empty.
A bead of his release welling up, dripping against your skin. You go to move, but Wade’s hands curl around your calves - pulling you flush.
It’s hard to look away, as he licks away Logan’s come. A sharp ache of desire with the sound of a needy groan, as his tongue dipping inside.
Maybe Wade doesn’t have such a bad mouth, after all.
Logan’s arm is numb, but he can’t bring himself to move. Can’t remember a time when he’d let his brain turn off like this. A brief moment of silence, and it’s bliss. His world standing still.
“So that’s how you do it.” You muse quietly, dizzily. Head cradled against his chest - fingers dragging through the hair, gently scratching.
A stirring on his other side, where Wade is using his bicep like a pillow.
“Mm, I don’t think I got it,” Wade counters, but it’s soft - hazy at the edges. “Think I missed a couple steps. Was that round two or three?
"Three," You say - as Logan grunts, "Two."
The fingers on his chest drift down, dipping over his stomach.
“Well, either way...” You hum, snuggling a little closer, “Maybe you oughta show us, one more time.”
Wade flips over then, chin propped in his hand, “At least. Maybe even twice. We’re bad learners, peanut. Dumb as fucking rocks, really.”
“Mhmm,” You sigh, “Really dumb. Can't even count.”
And he can’t stop the twitch of his lips, even with his eyes closed. Had forgotten what it was like to be warm like this.
To be wanted.
And maybe, he even feels… content.
Something he never thought he’d be, again.
thank you so much for reading! it means so much and I am so happt to be dipping my toes into these pairings💖
A/N: neighbor!logan x f!reader, jealous!logan, dom!logan, kind of inexperienced reader, reader is casually hooking up with a guy and logan knows he could do it better for her
It was quiet in the apartment building, his heightened sense of hearing sought out and focused intently on the sounds that he happily let keep him up past a reasonable hour. Her sweet moans and hitched gasps, his name choking in her throat as she got herself to that high. Logan grunted, stroking his cock languidly as he imagined what she might look like as she currently writhed and fisted her bedsheets. It was inappropriate for him to listen in on his sweet neighbor, but no one could really prove he was doing it.
Logan couldn’t help the smug smile on his face when they would run into each other in halls or in the stairwell. Her flustered expression and reddened cheeks making the blood rush to his cock as she stammered a polite greeting or a shy ‘thank you’ when he held the building doors open for her.
The only thing stopping him from going across the hall and suggesting she let him pleasure her properly was the boyfriend, or date, or whoever the cockblock was that had started coming by and taking her out. Adam, the name alone irked Logan more than he cared to admit because he knew there was no real reason for disliking him. Logan just didn’t like that he was in her apartment while he sat across the hall forced to listen to the mediocrity that was supposed to pass as sex.
Her moaning was louder when she was alone.
As Logan was leaving for work one morning, Y/N was walking Adam out into the hall in a silky, black robe. Logan pretended to have his key stuck in the door as he lingered, watching him peck her lips goodbye in the most passionless way he had ever seen. “Later, baby.” Adam said and Y/N waved at him with a small smile as she leaned against her doorframe. Adam gave Logan a nod who offered a fake smile.
Y/N noticed Logan standing across from her and she blushed. “Good morning.” She said shyly, raking a hand through her messy hair and blushing as she took in the sight of him in his work clothes. Sleeves hugged his large biceps, shirt tucked into his pants making it all too easy to notice the definition of his torso and abdomen.
“Mornin’,” Logan smirked, moistening his lips as he could more clearly smell her arousal the longer they stood this close together. “You look nice.” He added, leaning back against his apartment door to look at her shamelessly.
“Oh,” She blushed harder, looking at her robe that fell right above her knees and her bare feet, toes painted a light shade of pink. It was impossible to hold a conversation with him where he wasn’t completely catching her off guard with compliments and charming smiles. “Thanks.”
Logan gave her a small nod and his nostrils flared, her scent becoming too much to handle. “Later, baby.” He teased with a wink, making her bite her lip as she hid a grin and shook her head at him before going back into her apartment.
They had several interactions like that. They were good, friendly neighbors who could safely assume there was a mutual crush between them. Logan wasn’t the type to shy away from flirting with a pretty girl, and ever since she had moved in across the hall, Y/N was the prettiest girl he knew. Y/N was simply just too shy to make the first move with Logan, too polite to turn down Adam’s suggestion that she go on a date with him. It made Logan ache that he couldn’t have her, couldn’t seem to find the right moment to show her that he could be what she needed.
It was late at night and Logan was beginning to wonder if tonight was one of those nights where she decided to watch a movie rather than pleasure herself until he heard a knock at his door. After pulling on a pair of sweatpants to cover his cock, he sauntered to the door and opened it. Y/N was standing in front of him, arms crossed over her chest as she wore a nervous smile. “Hey, I’m so sorry to bother you,” She apologized, rubbing her arms from being in the cold hallway in a thin tank top. Her legs were covered by a pair of pink sweatpants, but she was still shivering. “The heat in my apartment has gone out. I really can’t wait until the morning. Could you help me out?”
After grabbing his tools and a tank top, he followed her into her apartment and was immediately overcome with the smell of her. The coffee she was always drinking, the bakery themed candles, the whole place made his mind go fuzzy with lust. Y/N showed him where the radiator was in the back room which seemed to have been turned into an exercise room. He could smell her in here too. Logan knelt down to inspect the apparatus and he hummed. “This packing nut is smooth on the inside now. It won’t hold.” He explained as he dug into his box for a proper one that would seal the leak. As he screwed the new packing nut into place, the radiator began to expel heat properly, the leak stopped, and he closed his toolbox before standing back up.
“Logan, thank you so much.” Y/N sighed, her hand pressed into her chest as she gave him a grateful smile. “Let me pay you.” She said quickly, leaving the room and making him follow her into the kitchen.
“Adam couldn’t come by?” He asked, not trying to pick on the kid, but it was second nature to him.
Y/N looked at him as she paused digging through her purse and she chuckled lightly as she shook her head. “He doesn’t know very much about fixing radiators, or anything of the sort.” She explained, walking over to him and handing him a wad of cash. “That’s all I’ve got on me right now.”
Logan pushed her hand away gently and shook his head. “Nah, don’t worry about it.” He told her and she frowned at him. He smiled at her and held her chin between his index and thumb, caressing her skin softly. “Can’t stand the thought of you bein’ cold and all alone over here.”
Y/N’s cheeks burned hotly and she tried to look away from him, unable to as he continued to hold her jaw in his hand. “Can I at least offer you a drink?”
It surprised him that she had whiskey at all. They were sitting on her couch, drinking and complaining about their shitty apartment building and jobs as the alcohol flowed freely. Y/N was blushing constantly, her body heated from being so close to him. Logan could practically taste her arousal the scent was so thick. “Why that guy?” He asked, throwing caution to the wind as he figured she was at a good number of drinks to not be upset if he asked.
“Oh, um,” Y/N wasn’t expecting that question. As far as she knew, Logan didn’t even acknowledge Adam’s existence. “I guess he’s nice, you know? He’s sweet to me.” She said, downing the last bit of her third shot of whiskey.
“You like ‘em sweet?” Logan asked curiously and she nodded with a shrug. “You don’t seem very sure.” He chuckled, drinking his last shot and setting the cup down on her coffee table.
“Well,” Her throat closed around the words, but he looked at her as if urging her to continue like he knew exactly what she was going to say. “I - I just haven’t been with a lot of guys.” She tried not to come off as if it was something she was embarrassed about. “And the few I have been with were sweet.”
Logan felt his mouth water, his chest swelling at the thought of her having little to no experience. “How many?” He asked, looking over her frame, which was much smaller than his own, and picturing the things he would teach her. Y/N blushed and shook her head as she covered her face. “C’mon,” He smirked, lightly tracing a hand up her shin to her knee. “Tell me.”
“Adam would be my second.” She mumbled, dropping her hands into her lap and looking at him.
“This year?” He asked to clarify and she shook her head. “Ever?” Her nod was all the confirmation he needed and he leaned back in his seat with a smug look that made her insides heat up. “Third time’s the charm, huh?”
Not long after, Logan had her pinned to her bedroom wall as he stood between her legs and held tightly onto her waist. His tank top had been discarded in the living room where she had helped him take it off as their kiss heated up. Her moans rolled off her tongue and into his mouth while her fingers laced and tugged on his hair, her hips bucking into the hard shaft pressing painfully into her core. Her top was ripped off suddenly, thrown aside as he pushed a knee underneath her to keep her suspended while his hands lifted her up so he could kiss her hips and belly. “Oh, Logan.” She moaned, desiring more of him than she had ever desired of anyone.
“Gonna show you how it should sound when you get fucked right.” He growled into her skin, making her tremble in his hold. “None of that sweet shit tonight, baby.” He told her, pulling her off the wall and throwing her down on the bed, quickly crawling back on her as if she would’ve taken the opportunity to get away. Y/N stayed where he wanted her, however, and let him do with her body as he pleased.
“Yes, please, take it.” She urged, lifting her hips as he tugged her pink sweats off. His smirk returned at the sight of her black thong and she blushed madly. “Shut up.”
Logan chuckled, kissing her legs softly, nipping at her inner thighs which made her whine. “I knew you wanted me.” He murmured, pulling her thong off and admiring her as he finally had her to himself. “You want me as bad as I want you, sugar?” He asked, his large hands smoothing along her waist and to the sides of her breasts. Y/N nodded desperately, her body arching into his touch. “Tell me.”
“I want you, Logan,” She breathed out as his thumb caressed her nipple and his other hand squeezed her hip harshly, her hands tugging on the drawstring of his sweatpants as she urged him to take them off. Logan discarded himself of his pants and tossed them, looking down at her as he breathed heavily. A lump formed in her throat when she felt his strength in the way he picked her up and repositioned her on her belly as if she weighed nothing. “Oh, fuck, please. I wanna feel you so bad.” Logan groaned and kissed along her spine down to her ass, biting the fat harshly, and making her whimper. He roughly lifted her on her knees while keeping a hand on her back to press her onto the bed. His nose buried in her, inhaling her arousal, and growling loudly into her womanhood before his tongue lapped at her glistening folds.
“This fucking pussy calls to me all damn day,” Logan moaned, his hands squeezing painfully on her hips and ass while he circled his tongue into her core, swallowing her juices as they coated his tongue. “Fuck, it tastes better than I imagined.”
His filthy words had her riled up, whining and mewling while she tugged desperately on the bedsheets as his mouth brought her down into the pits of a tortuous pleasure. He was relentless, mean with his smacks of her ass and the bite of his teeth. “Oh, fucking shit!” Y/N cried as he brought her to orgasm, her thighs trembling while he simply continued eating at her, holding her firmly against his face so she couldn’t squirm away from him.
“How’s that?” He asked as he flipped her onto her back, settling between her thighs as he slowly pumped himself. She was breathless and she nodded approvingly. “Better than that vibrator?” Her brows furrowed and he smiled, nuzzling his face into her neck as he said, “I hear everything, sweetheart. You’re so sweet when you moan, rubbing your little clit slowly and gently.” His thumb came down between her thighs to do just that. Her moans fell out in a melody and Logan groaned. “Fuck, yeah, like that. Keeps me up all damn night.”
“Didn’t think - uh - didn’t think I was that l-loud.” She stammered, her hands flat on his chest as he slipped two fingers into her pussy with a filthy squelching sound. “Oh!”
Logan chuckled softly. “You could be louder.”
His fingers and thumb continued rubbing and stroking her, his eyes fixed on the features of her face. The way her brows scrunched together from the overstimulation, the pleasure, the pain of his tight grip on her thigh to keep her legs open for him. Her delicate hands pushed at his thick torso in an attempt to move him away, get herself away from this pleasure that was quickly becoming too much to handle. “I-I can’t, Logan, please, make me cum!”
Obliged, he knelt down and sucked on her clit, fingers pumping faster and deeper until she was shaking again, high from the ecstasy of pleasure. Logan definitely didn’t fuck like the others, not even close, and it wasn’t even over yet. “Had enough?” He asked as he watched her body tremble in her sheets and noticed her half-lidded eyes looking at every inch of him. Logan flexed his chest teasingly and she bit her lip, shaking her head to his question. “Good, cause the best part’s coming.” He winked, hovering back over her and holding her thighs together so he could push them into her chest. Y/N cried softly as he ran the leaking tip of his cock along her puffy lips, teasing her until tears fell from the corners of her eyes. “That’s it, sweet girl, cry it out.” He groaned, the sight of her pouted lip turning him on all the more. “Let daddy do what he’s gotta do.”
His cock pushed into her, filling her quickly in one thrust which made her sob. “S-so big.” She whined, her hands resting on his strong thighs as he dragged his dick back out, slow so he could inspect that every inch was coated in her cream. “I can’t take it.”
“Looks like you can from here,” He taunted, pushing back in and hissing at the sight. “Fuck, it looks really good from right here.” Y/N’s vision blurred with hot tears as he kept a steady, slow, and brutual pace. The stretch stung and she could feel him deep in her, hitting spots that had yet to be discovered. “Tell me what you’re thinking.” He coaxed her, keeping her knees over his shoulder, his hand held onto her thighs and the other wrapped around her throat. His lips met hers in a kiss, soft and gentle unlike the rest of his actions as he was now rutting into her with an animal-like purpose.
“You’re in - sniff - really deep.” Y/N sobbed, her fingernails were digging into his thighs and he groaned in approval as he felt her legs start shaking violently - she was close again. “It’s too - ah - too much!”
“Is this my spot, sweetheart?” He asked, pressing firmly against her cervix which made her whine loudly, her hand weakly punching on his leg because she was so close. She nodded, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes and that pouty lip that just made him wanna force her to take more. Logan wanted to push her to her limits, maybe even a little further. “Yeah? Is this daddy’s spot?” He asked, his swollen tip pressing harder into her cervix.
“Yes-s, it’s yours!” She cried, unable to take the pain of the tension in her abdomen. Logan growled, the sound rumbling in his chest and she felt the vibration against the back of her thighs. “It’s your spot, daddy, p-please!”
“Wanna cum?” He asked, kissing her neck softly as she nodded, sucking on her sensitive skin as his hips continued in their rut, the contracting of her walls squeezing the hell out of his girth. “Cum, sugar, cum on my cock.” He encouraged, staying deep in her as he pounded harshyly into her and repeatedly slammed into her cervix. Y/N cried, sobbing as she felt that tension come undone, her orgasm gushing around his thick member and soaking her bed sheets - she had squirted for the first time in her life. “Goddamn!” Logan growled as that feeling made him unload his release in her without a second thought. He couldn’t think of the consequences when he was well aware of what he wanted; he wanted to fill her with his seed.
Y/N cried softly, her face buried in his chest as he let her legs go, resting between them still as he slowly pumped every last drop of him into her, throbbing in her as he waited for her to calm down. Logan kissed the top of her head, his arms caged around her head as he slowly rode out their highs. Her teary eyes met his and he looked concerned for a moment until she smiled weakly at him, her hands cupping his bearded cheeks as she pulled him down to her lips for a kiss. Logan sighed and kissed her while he sat up on his knees, his arms wrapped around her body to hold her close so she straddled him. She whined as she sunk onto him, his cum spilling out of her and down the sides of his shaft. “That wasn’t sweet?” She murmured playfully which made him laugh. His laugh shook her body as she was pressed closely to him.
“Careful, baby.’ He smirked as he laid her down gently and slipped out of her with a wet noise. She winced and he kissed her nose. “Don’t talk yourself into something you can’t handle.”
In the morning, Y/N was still dozed off on his chest while he laid contemplating their interaction, smiling to himself as he caressed her bare back slowly. A knock came from the living room and Logan carefully got up and pulled on his sweatpants before answering the door.
It was Adam.
“Oh,” Logan grinned, leaning an arm against the doorframe as he glanced behind him at her bedroom door. “Hey, bub, she might be too tired for this brunch date.” Adam stood dumbfounded, looking from Logan to the apartment door behind him which he was sure was where this guy lived. “I’ll let her know you stopped by, yeah?” Logan winked at the kid before he closed the door and rejoined her in the bedroom, finally on the right side of the door.
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
I have so much stuff in my drafts🤭 ‘Adam’ is just a random name I pulled out of the air btw
n a s t y d o g I logan howlett x fem!mutant!reader
One-shot
A/N: I've never felt this way about a fictional character before. Every gif I see of him has me gnawing and biting at the bars of my enclosure. I want to bite him. If Hugh Jackman ever discovered what thoughts lurk inside my rotted brain about him he'd get a restraining order. This isn't OKAY
Anyways...
Summary: You'd thought you'd had a good thing going with Logan. You weren't officially anything to each other, but you were getting close. You truly saw a future with him, but he made it incredibly clear he did not feel the same
18+ HATE FUCKING (MDNI)
(one chance please, just one chance with him)
“Are you sure this isn’t totally clingy girlfriend of me?”
Ororo gives you an irritated look and Jean laughs. “Not at all, Scott loves it when I surprise him like this.” You’re all huddled in your room, each of you in varying stages of getting ready. Jean is finishing off her eyeliner at your vanity, Ororo is putting on her boots, and you’re trying to decide between a skirt and a dress.
You’re not entirely sure how, or why, Logan and Scott decided to go to the bar together tonight. You suspect it has something to do with Jean. She wants them to start getting along so there’s less friction when you’re all around each other.
At Jean’s idea, Logan had muttered, “When hell freezes over,” in your ear before he had left for the night. You’d gotten a little antsy without him to entertain you and had mistakenly blurted out the idea of going to visit them. Ororo had been dying to get out of the house and Jean was a little worried about her boyfriend as well. They’d agreed to go along with you and you’ve felt a weight in your stomach ever since.
Your relationship with Logan was relatively new. Hell, a month ago you’d thought he’d hated you the same he did Scott. You’d, of course, been proven wrong when you’d had a few drinks with him and things had taken a very physical turn.
You weren’t sure if he’d just wanted a one-night stand or something serious. But when you’d tried to sneak out the next morning and he’d muttered a grumpy, “Where’re you going?” You’d gotten your answer.
You hadn’t been on any real dates, there didn’t ever seem to be time for them. But you spent most of your days together. Sometimes just silently enjoying each other’s company, other times you would be holed up in one of your rooms cuddling. The thought always brings a stupid lovesick grin to your face.
It’s one of your first real relationships and you’re worried that things are moving a little too fast. At least on your end. You can already tell that you’re falling for him. Headfirst into the deep end of love. And it’s terrifying because you truly cannot tell what he thinks about you. Clearly, he likes you. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t let you follow him around like a lost puppy.
But he’s never truly said anything to you. There’s no official label as to what you two are. You say girlfriend off-handly and you usually don’t mean it when you reference yourself. You’ve never outright said he’s your boyfriend and he’s never really claimed you. He’s made it explicitly clear he doesn’t want you sleeping with other men, and you’ve said the same to him about women. You both agreed on that, but…
You kind of drive yourself crazy trying to figure this out. He’s not vocal about his feelings and everything’s still new so you don’t like pressuring him. You also worry that if you push him too far he’ll just get tired of you and move on. It’s not fair to assume that of him, and you know everything would be better if you just talked to him. But you’re scared. You’re scared the conversation will take the wrong direction and everything will blow up in your face.
Jean calls your name and your head shoots up to see both Ororo and Jean looking at you expectantly. You flush when you realize they must have been talking to you and you’d just completely zoned out thinking about Logan.
“Huh?” You blurt out, cringing at how dumb you sound.
Jean gives you a concerned look, “I can practically taste your anxiety.” The telepath frowns and offers you a comforting smile. “Don’t worry about it, I promise, Logan won’t mind at all.”
“You’re fine,” Ororo adds, because clearly the look on your face screams, I need constant validation. They’re not wrong, but still, you hate feeling like an exposed bundle of nerves. “Think of it as girl’s night, the boys just happen to be there.”
You force a smile on your face and give your most enthusiastic nod. You change into the dress and finish up with your hair. You finally start chatting with them again, engaging so it might disguise just how nervous you feel.
There’s this clenching feeling, traveling from your stomach up to your chest. It makes you sick, makes you hurt. And it’s not because you think Logan will be upset with you for crashing. He’d be relieved, if anything. There’s something else. Premonition isn’t one of your abilities, but you’re seriously starting to doubt that now.
The bar is loud when you walk in. The soles of your shoes immediately start to stick to the floor and your nose screws up in disgust at the loud laughter coming from around the pool tables. You glance around, trying to see if you can spot Logan.
You’d say you could spot him in any crowd. But has a propensity to hunker down and try to attract as little attention as possible so people don’t bother him. “There he is,” Jean taps your shoulders and points to the two men at the end of the bar.
Like you’d thought, Logan is hunched over his whiskey, glowering down at the wood under him like it had insulted him. You almost want to laugh at the sight. Some of the earlier anxiety eases its grip on you and you feel your shoulders begin to untense.
Before you can walk over Ororo grabs Jean’s wrist. “Gotta go to the bathroom,” she tugs Jean behind her.
Jean looks over her shoulder at you and smiles encouragingly, “Go to them, we’ll catch up in a second.” You give her a tentative nod and slip through the crowd. There are more people here than you thought there would be.
You’re happy not to spot any kids in the crowd. You’ve had a few too many nights out crashed by kids who thought they were good at sneaking out.
It’s easy enough not to spot you or the other women in the crowd. Mutants have gotten good at blending in with the people around them. Makes it easier to get around. It’s probably why neither Logan nor Scott stop their conversation as you approach. “So,” Scott draws the word out, fingers tapping against the glass of his beer.
“Don’t,” Logan warns. You want to laugh at his grumpy demeanor, but someone’s accidentally elbowed you and you find yourself stumbling a few steps back. It’s taking entirely too long to get to them, the bar isn’t even that big. There’s just that many people here.
Scott ignores him and rolls his eyes. “Look, we’re stuck here for a while. Try and pull that stick out of your ass.”
“How about I put one in yours?” Logan’s claws come out slightly. But then they both share an odd look and Scott smirks. “Shut the fuck up,” Logan grouses, “not like that.”
“Right,” Scott huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. He picks up his bottle and takes a long drink. You’ve nearly reached them now. You stop, though, when you hear Scott say your name. You shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t. Eavesdropping now is just asking to get hurt.
You drop back into the crowd, hoping the smells of others will stop Logan from discovering you lurking behind them both. Scott continues, “How’s that going?”
You crane your neck forward, trying to hear them better over the karaoke happening behind you. Someone is butchering Britney Spears but you couldn’t care less right now. Logan shouldn’t answer. Since when has he ever shared anything with Scott?
So, imagine your surprise when his answer isn’t immediately telling him to fuck off. “Eh,” he shrugs, downing the rest of his whiskey. Your face drops in irritation. Seriously, all this skulking around for an Eh? That’s bullshit.
You keep yourself from stepping forward, forcing your feet still, and ignoring the little voice in the back of your head telling you this is a bad idea. You’ve committed this much, you’re seeing it through. Scott whistles lowly, “That bad, huh?” Oh, fuck off, Summers.
Logan shakes his head and for a moment you have a brief feeling of hope lifting you up. “Nah, not bad. It’s just, I don’t know.” Logan sits up and signals the bartender for a refill. Your snooping senses go off and you briefly see Ororo and Jean exiting the bathroom. Desperate for something to keep them at bay, you flick your wrist. The man in front of them tips his drink down Jean’s shirt, slurring out apologies. Jean huffs and Ororo brings her back into the bathroom.
Scott and Logan somehow missed the whole interaction and you promise yourself that you’ll pay for Jean’s dry cleaning. You’re definitely not going to. “Think she wants something I don’t,” Logan tells Scott, and your heart plummets to your feet. You can practically see it deflate, all the lovesickness draining out of it and onto the floor of this grimy bar.
“Like, she just wants to fuck around?”
Logan shakes his head and downs another glass of whiskey. He’s just swallowing it down like it’s water. At a certain point, the bartender gets sick of it and just leaves him with the bottle. “No, she wants something real. Like a real relationship.” Scott’s brows furrow and Logan shrugs. “Not interested.”
It’s the way he says it that really bothers you. There’s nothing wrong with wanting something different in a relationship. It happens all the time. But he says it so dismissively. He knows that you want something real with him, something secure and loving. He knows that, continues to fuck you and lead you on, and then speaks as though you’re an idiot for ever being interested in that.
Hurt hasn’t set in yet. You’re staring wide-eyed, jaw agape with shock as you stare at Logan’s back. You’d thought a conversation needed to be had. But you didn’t think that he thought of you like this. You’d thought you meant something to him.
Scott seems to share the sentiment, his lips tugged down into a frown. He leans against the bar, surveying Logan with a disbelieving look. “What?” Logan snaps.
Scott raises his hands in surrender, shaking his head and backing off. “Nothing, man, I just thought you two were serious about each other.” You miss whatever Logan says as an arm slings itself around your shoulder.
“What’re you doing?” A husky, seductive voice whispers against the shell of your ear. You jump in shock, glaring at Ororo as she grins at you. She lets her arm slide off your shoulders and glances over at Jean. “I think she was spying.”
Jean nods, nudging you forward. “Definitely spying. Hear anything good?”
You fortify your mind against her probing fingers before she can find out. “Nope,” you blurt out. You hope the racing of your heart is dismissed by your constantly frazzled nature. You hope the look on your face is explained by your earlier boredom and anxiety. You pray that none of them notice the way you lean away from Logan when the men finally turn around and notice you all.
Scott breathes out a dramatic sigh of relief and slumps onto Jean. “Thank god, I thought I was going to die trying to talk to this brick wall.” his eyes flick towards you in a blink-and-you-miss-it moment. There’s a brief pitying look before he grins. “Come to get your boyfriend?” There’s a heavy emphasis on the word that you never would have noticed had you not heard their conversations.
It’s clearly a petty dig at Logan. And you would appreciate it if you didn’t feel the sudden urge to vomit up your dinner. “Thought you might need saving from Logan.” You tell him, a chuckle hiding the slight tremor in your voice.
You’re not sure if he does, but you hope Logan notices how you avoided the word boyfriend. You hope that he hurts the same way you do. But you know, deep down, that he doesn’t care. He’s probably relieved that you didn’t use the title.
Logan gets off his stool, he wraps his arm around your shoulder, and pulls you into a brief hug. His lips press against your temple before he dips down to whisper, “Thank you,” in your ear.
Asshole, he’s not allowed to smile at you the way he is. If you weren’t in such a crowded place and already overstimulated, you’d shove him away. If your friends weren’t watching you’d take his arm and slam it down onto the bar until you hear his fucking adamantium bones break.
That might have been too far. Maybe you’re not that angry, but you’re hurt.
You place your hands against his chest, a thin smile on your lips while you hum a simple, “Mhm.” He doesn’t seem to notice the way you push away from him. It’s easily dismissed by you cheekily stealing his seat at the bar.
He comes up behind you, hands bracketing you and keeping you stuck against the bar while you order your drink. One of his hands drifts down, laying against your thigh. You know this isn’t sexual, this is him comforting you.
He shouldn’t know how horrible you feel in such busy places. He shouldn’t know that and know that his touch is grounding and then help you. Not if he doesn’t want something serious. If he didn’t want to be your boyfriend, didn’t want to be anything but a fuck, then why do this to you? Did he not think this was leading you on? Is this just him caring for you?
You’ll drown in a sea of unanswered questions before the night is over if you linger too long. You tip your head back, let your shot burn its way down your throat, and turn towards the others with a smile. You feel your worries fade and your focus loosen as you simply drift further into your mind.
You must have disassociated or something. By the time you realize you’re no longer hearing bad karaoke and your elbows aren’t sticking to the bar, you’re already home. You stare in the mirror, hand pausing as you brush your teeth before you quickly finish.
You didn’t drink much, you never do. It fucks with your abilities and causes migraines. You rinse your mouth out and glance into your bedroom. Logan groans and stretches. His back bows, muscles flexing and you rip your eyes away. You can’t let yourself be distracted by the chest you want to drape yourself across.
You need to talk to him. It’s never been more clear. You wipe your mouth and toss the towel onto the rim of the sink. You take in a deep breath, trying to get rid of the nerves plaguing you. It’s never worked before, it’s not going to suddenly cure you now.
You give up on the thought and instead, shove down the anxiety until you have enough confidence to speak. It takes a little while, Logan peaks an eye open, eyebrows quirked when he sees you just staring at him. “Something up, bub?” he flexes, on purpose, and you roll your eyes. You grab his shirt out of your hamper and toss it at him.
“Put this on. Can’t think when you look like that.”
He chuckles, “That’s the point.” at your pointed glare his smile drops and he tugs the beater on. It barely does anything to deter you. If anything you’re having more trouble paying attention. Especially now that his full attention is on you. The humor is gone from the room, a thick tension replaces it. Logan seems to feel it, sitting up straighter and glaring at you like he’s trying to read your mind. “What’s wrong?” It’s a demand more than a question.
It’s hard to look at him. But you refuse to let yourself cower now. You take in a fortifying breath and let your gaze bore into his. You put all the hurt and anger you feel into it, willing yourself to be firm. “We need to talk.”
“‘Bout what?” He’s brusque, but there’s a slight concern to his tone.
There’s no point hiding this. And maybe you had misheard, maybe there was a conversation prefacing the one you’d heard. And you’ll talk it out and everything will be okay. “I heard you and Scott talking at the bar.”
The hope you had, as minimal as it was, is dashed at your feet. He sucks in a deep breath and the look on his face has you crestfallen. You can feel your chest cave in. You feel so stupid all of a sudden. Constantly following after him, even before you started dating him. Looking at him with stars in your eyes and latching onto his every move and word.
You’d worshiped him, put him up on a pedestal he didn’t deserve. Superhuman or not, at the end of the day he was still a man. And they’ve done nothing but disappoint you. You suck your teeth, gaze dropping to your feet as you fight back the tears in your eyes. “Right,” you whisper, stepping back from him.
“Look,” he starts. You force your eyes up and watch as he rubs uncomfortably at the back of his neck. He takes a step towards you and you shake your head, stepping away from him. His arms fall to his sides and he sighs. “Sorry,” he mutters.
“That’s it?” You demand, tone incredulous. You weren’t some great love or anything. But that’s seriously all he has to say.
He opens his mouth, eyes softening as he stares at you. Then he snaps it shut, something covers his face and his expression is borderline cruel as he sneers at you. “Not my fault you got in over your head, kid. Never said I wanted anything more with you.” He points at you, and you suddenly feel like a little girl getting scolded. You’ve never had a partner make you feel this small, especially not Logan. “You were just convenient.”
You rear back like he slapped you. You think it might have hurt less than that. To know you wasted so much time on such a fucking dick makes you want to throw up. Or scream, or cry. You can’t decide on one. But your powers can, the walls are shaking, knick-knacks falling off your shelves as energy pulses from you.
You’ll face the hurt, the sadness, the horrible ache of rejection later. Right now, you need him out of your face before you bring the whole mansion crumbling down around you. “Out.” You grind the word out, turning away from him and clutching your hands to your chest. You take in quick, rapid breaths, trying to think of anything other than how horrible you feel.
You haven’t lost control like this in a long time. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of being the reason you get put on probation again. He whispers your name, coming up behind you like he’s going to touch you.
You want to lash out, want to hurt him like he’s hurt you. But you’ll only cause more damage than necessary. He’s not worth hurting the kids in the rooms around you. You shove past him, ignoring the way he shouts your name.
You dart out into the hall, grateful there are so few people milling around. Nearly everyone’s asleep, just a few stragglers finishing up their homework for tomorrow. A few of them give you odd looks that turn concerned when they see Logan chasing after you. Your bones are practically vibrating by the time you make it outside.
You rush towards the grove of trees at the back of the mansion. Your knees give out under you before you can make it very far. Energy pulses out of you in an explosive circle. You hear bark crack and turn into nothing but dust as the air around you trembles.
It’s a relief, like going to the bathroom after holding it all day. You feel it drain away from you, a plug pulled out as the energy rushes from you. It slows after a minute, feeling more like a leak than a steady stream.
Your hands shake by your sides as you lay trembling on the grass. Your eyelids flutter shut and you try and keep them open but it’s hard. All of your energy had been spent keeping yourself in check until you made it out of the mansion.
“I’ve got you,” a voice mutters near your ear. Familiar strong arms dip under your knees, lifting you up and pulling you into a sturdy chest. You recognize the body, recognize the uncomfortable warmth coming from him. But your tongue won’t work and you're passing out before you can try and push him away.
You’re in your own bed when you wake up again. You’re briefly comforted by the warm feeling of the sheets around you before you realize how cold the other side of the bed is. You’re so used to the feeling of someone being beside you that it’s jarring for no one to be there. You sit up, a spark of anxiety lighting up inside you before it’s being quelled by an outside force.
“I think it’s best if we keep that under control.” You’re not surprised to hear Charles’s voice. You can’t be, not when he’s actively keeping you calm and placid. You lean back against your headboard. You tilt your head lazily, looking at him while he looks out the window.
“That tree was a hundred years old.”
You wince, face screwing up when you remember the large oak tree you obliterated last night. “I can remake it,” you promise.
“You could,” he corrects, “but whatever happened last night between you and Logan is causing your powers to be volatile.” He finally turns towards you, the motor of his wheelchair a dull buzz as he smiles at you. There’s no resentment in his gaze at least. You’d known he wouldn’t be mad at you. He was used to accidents like this. Had you hurt another person, however, this would be an entirely different conversation.
There’s a dull ache in your chest at the mention of Logan, but it’s quickly covered by another wave of calm from Charles. He smiles and holds out two metal bracelets. They’re thick, something red inlaid into the black metal. They look like handcuffs more than anything. His lips quirk up at your thought and you frown.
“That’s what they are, right? Cuffs.”
“You’re not a criminal,” he assuages, his tone gentle as you take them from him. There’s a small silver button inside that you click and the metal springs open. You place your left wrist inside and it snaps shut, it’s a snug fit. It won’t be moving around anytime soon. You put the right one on and feel Charles’ hold on your mind ease the second it's closed. Every horrible feeling from last night crashes down on you and you nearly choke on it.
You wonder how Charles managed to keep you asleep for so long without the roof crumbling. He chuckles, the noise tired. “Jean helped me. It took a while for the cuffs to be ready.”
The way he says that causes alarms to go off in your head. “How long?” He takes in a sharp breath and shakes his head, attempting to dismiss the question. “Charles,” you snap, voice bordering on a shout.
“Two days,” he says. You gasp and slump back against your sheets. He says your name but you get to your feet and pace. You don't know what to do with yourself. There’s energy buzzing under your skin, but the cuffs are keeping it at bay. It feels wrong like your pores are being clogged with acid.
“Two days.” You look over at him, horror painting your face and you can see why he was so apprehensive to tell you. “It’s never been that bad before.”
“No,” he starts cautiously, “It hasn’t. Which makes me wonder, what transpired between you and Logan that destroyed my grandfather’s tree?”
You cringe at the mention of the tree. He’s never going to let go of that. Even when you recreate it, he’s still going to hold it over your head. His teasing eases you out of the spiral you were heading down and you glance over at him. “You’ve been in my head for two days. I’m sure both you and Jean already know.”
He smacks his lips together and shrugs, clasping his hands in front of himself. “Simply seeing if you wanted to discuss it, my dear.”
You vehemently shake your head and sit back down on your bed. “No, I don’t want to talk about him. I don't want to see him.” Charles gives you a look like he doesn’t believe you and you hate it. You truly don’t want to see Logan again. Just thinking about him makes you want to explode. He was a pig and you regret ever wasting your time on him.
There’s a shriveled part of your heart weeping somewhere, but you crush in your fist until it shuts the fuck up. “Right,” Charles nods. “I do believe it’s best for your recovery that we keep you two separated for a while.” He rolls past you and places a comforting hand on yours. “Rest, you’ll feel more like yourself soon.”
You nod and watch him leave. Exhaustion suddenly seems to drop its heavy weight on your shoulders. Two days being restrained by telepaths probably wasn’t very restful. You lay across your comforter, rolling over and hoping when you wake up your heart will be healed.
Two weeks. Two pathetic, snot-filled, and disgusting weeks of sobbing over Logan. You felt like a sixteen-year-old again, crying over the boy that didn’t like you back. It was awful, especially knowing that the entirety of the mansion knew what was wrong with you.
Your students would leave your class and you would lock your doors, hiding under your desk as you wept. Those with superhearing or telepathy would bake you cookies and leave gifts at your door. It was sweet, but honestly made you feel ten times worse. You felt like your sadness was a burden you were forcing everyone to carry.
Your mother would be so disappointed in you. She’d always told you that you mourn a relationship half the amount of time you were in it. Of course, hers never lasted more than a few weeks. And she’d had more boyfriends than you could count on three hands.
Besides, you were allowed to wallow for a while. This was someone you were starting to fall for. To be so blind going into and leaving the relationship was awful. Having the rug ripped out from under you had been cruel and needless. You’re resentful and grateful he’d been so horrifically honest with you. On one hand, if the relationship had just ended, you’d be pining after him. Wondering what you’d done to lose such an amazing guy.
But being faced with the brutal truth, knowing he was a piece of shit, it makes you hate yourself. You should have seen it. Should have known that he didn’t want you like you wanted him. But there were never any signs. You’d run it through your head a million times. Every interaction you’ve ever had with him. None of it shows you where he’d been lying to you or using you. You can’t even trust yourself anymore.
There’s a loud knock on your door and you sniffle, tossing another tissue in the trash as you go to answer it. “Hello?” You croak. You can barely see, eyes puffy and so swollen your vision is blurry.
“Holy hell,” Ororo scoffs and shakes her head. She pushes into your room and slams the door shut before anyone can see how awful you look. To be fair, you keep yourself relatively put together during the day. But it’s after hours now, you’re allowed to be a mess.
“You look like shit.”
Neither of you are prepared as you begin to blubber. Your lips tremble and your voice shakes as you begin to sob. “I know,” you wail. “I hate it.” Ororo’s eyes widen in horror and she quickly pushes you into your desk chair, grabbing a box of tissues and shoving it in your hands.
“I feel,” you stutter, having to take in a few shuddering breaths before you can get the words out. “He tore out my heart and ripped it up with his stupid fucking claws.”
“Okay, okay,” Ororo runs her hands over your arms, trying to soothe you. “I know, sh, it’s okay.” She groans, “Stop crying,” she pleads under her breath.
“I’m trying!” You snap at her, running hands over your wet cheeks and trying to swallow down the rest of your tears.
“Look,” she steps back and shakes her head. She glances down at you, disgust poorly hidden on her face. She’s really fucking bad at comforting someone. “This is awful, I can’t take it anymore. You two keep dancing around each other and you’re putting everyone on edge. You won’t stop crying and he keeps going off,” she holds her hands up and shakes her head. “I just can’t do it anymore.”
You frown, brows turning down in confusion. “What?” You didn’t think Logan would be mad. You pictured him skipping through a field of daisies, happy to finally be rid of you. It only made you hate yourself more that you were still crying over it all.
“He’s kind of losing it,” she seems reluctant to relent the information. “Look,” she kneels in front of you and snatches the tissue box from your hand. She tosses it to the side and forces you to meet her eyes. “He’s in love with you. We all know it, Jean’s confirmed it. He loves you, he needs you, he’s just terrified to admit it. He’s afraid of what's going to happen if you two become real.”
Your eyes widen with the realization. She nods enthusiastically as you connect the pieces. You can’t deny what’s so plainly laid in front of you when she assures you that even Jean knows. Jean knowing means she just did a nosy dive into his head.
You can picture what could happen. With rom-com levels of nauseating romance, you run to find him. You tell him you don’t care that he’s afraid. You don’t care he pushed you away and you do love him. He’s not going to lose you. Nothing can rip you apart. You ride off into the sunset on Scott’s bike blah blah blah.
This isn’t a fucking romance. And you’re not going to cry over a man who's too much of a pussy to admit he has feelings. You like men who have emotional depth deeper than a teaspoon. “Are you fucking kidding me?"
Ororo’s face blanches and she slowly backs away from you as you stand. “No,” she answers slowly, like she’s not sure of herself now.
“That’s what I’ve been crying over?” You feel upset for an entirely different reason. You never misread the signs. You never missed a hint that he didn’t feel what you did. He did! He was just happier letting you doubt yourself and the love you held for him than admitting he felt something. You tear off the depression hoodie you’ve been living in for the past two weeks. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”
You don’t know where you’re going. Normally, you’d run into a forest to let out a blast of energy. It drained you enough that you wouldn’t have to feel anything. But with these cuffs on, you can’t do anything.
You storm out of your room and stomp down the stairs, uncaring who you wake up. You’ve wasted so much time on Logan, you refuse to stay in your room and cry for another fucking night.
“I want to see her,” Logan growls. He tries to move around Charles, but he stops him with his mind, holding him in place while Jean disappears inside your room. Logan watches her go and glares at her retreating back as the door closes behind her.
It’s been a day already, you’ve never needed to be out for more than a few hours. He doesn’t want to think that there’s anything wrong with you, that he might have permanently broken something inside you.
That talk at the bar with Scott had been stupid. He would have said anything to get him to shut the fuck up and leave him alone. He didn’t really mean what he said, he just wanted him to back off. And saying that your relationship wasn’t anything was quicker than pouring out every thought he’s had of you.
It was easier lying than it was to admit just how much he wanted you. Just how far he would go for you. But then you’d overheard, and you brought it up. And there’d been faith on your face. Like even you couldn’t believe what he had said because you could see through the bullshit.
But all Logan had seen was a way out. This was an opportunity to finally get out of the suffocating clutches of something he didn’t want to admit was love. He took the chance before he could think. It’s what he was used to. Taking the easy way out, especially when it came to shit like emotions.
He hadn’t thought you were going to explode, though. Because that’s exactly what you’d done. By the time he’d caught up to you, you’d burned a crater into the ground and had destroyed Charles’ stupid fucking tree.
Seeing you like that, laying there lifeless, it terrified him. He didn’t want to live in a world that you weren’t in. There was no fucking point. It was sobering, realizing that, and then realizing that he was the reason you were like that in the first place.
He didn’t want to live without you and he certainly would never be able to come to terms with being the reason you were dead. But it didn’t matter, whatever realizations he was coming to. Charles and Jean were completely blocking him from your room. They weren’t even giving him a chance to look at you. And he was about five seconds away from ripping the old bastard’s head off and just barrelling inside.
He didn’t care what they said, he needed to see that you were okay. “I’m afraid you’re not going to be able to see her for a very long time.”
“Stay out of my head,” Logan growls, glaring down at the man. “What are you talking about?” He presses, finally processing the rest of his sentence.
Charles sighs and rolls away from him. Logan glares at his back but ultimately follows. “You were the cause of this, yes?” Reluctantly, Logan nods, there’s no point in hiding it. He’s sure Charles already knows. “For her own safety, the two of you will need to remain separated.”
That had been it. There was no arguing about it. No fighting Charles. It was for your safety that he stayed away from you. No matter how much he wanted to explain himself, he wouldn’t risk another meltdown like that.
You didn’t deserve to get hurt because of someone like him. He wouldn’t be able to stand hurting you again.
But two weeks seemed like a lot. At a certain point, he’s sure you’re just avoiding him. He knows he can’t blame you. He’d been a fucking idiot. But that didn’t make him any happier. If anything, he was getting more and more pissed off every day.
He had less patience for mistakes. Was lashing out at the kids more often and don’t even get started on the petty fucking fights he was picking with Scott. How long did you fucking need before you talked to him again?
He knows you’re upset, your crying keeps everyone up at night. Something he’s sure you’d be mortified to learn about. Why won’t you let him comfort you? Why do you have to be so petulant, running around the corner every time you see him? Pointedly ignoring him when you’re in the same room together.
He could fix this, make this all better. But you’re just not letting him. He knows this is why he loves you. It’s why he was so drawn to you. You seem like a bundle of nerves, constantly flitting around and keeping yourself small. It had been off-putting at first. And then he’d seen you training with Scott, kicking his ass more like. A switch had been flicked in his head.
He could finally see you for what you were. He finally realized that it was your abilities you were keeping small. You were a fucking spitfire and you didn’t hesitate to tell him off, he loved it. Loved arguing with you just so he could see you get all pissed off.
But that stubborn attitude he loved was really biting him in the ass right now.
There’s a knock on his bedroom door and he doesn’t even get to pretend it’s going to be you. He smells Jean’s perfume and rolls his eyes. He puffs on his cigar and contemplates ignoring her.
“Don’t be a jackass, open the damn door.”
Fuckin’ telepaths. “What?” He snaps at her the second the door is open. Her face screws up when she smells the smoke from his cigar. He knows she wants to put it out, and can see it in the twitch of her fingers. He raises a brow, a silent challenge to try him. He’s itching for another fight and she can feel it.
She lets out a sharp breath, choosing her battles wisely and backing off. He’s almost disappointed. “We need to talk. This whole thing between the two of you is ridiculous. You’re a mess, she’s a mess…”
Her voice trails off into nothing more than the annoying pitch of a fly. Logan can’t be bothered to listen to her scold him. He’s not a fucking kid, and maybe if you were acting like an adult, they wouldn’t be having this problem.
A few doors down he can hear you shouting, then the door to your room slams open. He darts off his bed, opening his own door to see what you’re doing. He only sees the back of your head as you angrily stomp down the stairs.
Enough is fucking enough, he was finishing this now. He was sick of your side of the bed being empty and the stupid fucking glare on your face every time you saw him. He doesn’t even bother saying anything to Jean as he leaves, just chases after you.
Jean watches him go with a perturbed look. She steps out of the room and glances down the hall. Ororo steps out of your room and walks towards her. “Well?” Jean probes.
Ororor shrugs, “She’s over it.” Jean smiles but it’s quickly wiped off her face by Ororo’s expression. “Not in the way we wanted.
Jean clenches her eyes shut and takes in a deep breath. She needs you two to figure your shit out or she’s never going to be able to get a good night’s sleep again.
You find yourself in the gym. It’s not your favorite place in the world, you don’t usually get to train with the others. You’re stuck with telepaths, mainly the ones who can shut your powers down if you get too out of control. That hasn’t been a problem since you got the cuffs, but you’ve been too sad to test them out.
Now you find yourself obliterating a punching bag. You wrap the energy around your fists and let it protect the thin skin as you pummel into the bag. You don’t know what else to do. You can’t have energy meltdowns anymore. You have to try and funnel it all out physically, but it’s not working. Nothing is.
“Imagining it’s me?” You pause midswing. You glance over to the door just in time to see Logan stalking towards you. He unzips his jacket slowly. So slowly it almost seems provocative. He tugs it off and tosses it onto a nearby bench.
You scoff as you watch him. “Do you ever have a shirt on?”
He shrugs and moves towards the ring in the middle of the gym. His movements are lithe and fluid as he hops onto the ring, every bit a wild animal. You watch as the muscles in his torso ripple and force your eyes off of him. You try and focus your attention back on the bag, but all your earlier energy is gone. Your mind is completely wrapped around Logan.
Which you’re sure is exactly what he wants, or he wouldn’t be staring at you so smugly as he leans against the ropes and waits for you to acknowledge him. You suck on your teeth, irritation blooming in sporadic bursts throughout your body that has you nearly shaking. Finally, you give in.
He smirks the second your eyes meet, “I can take it, sweetheart. A lot better than that little toy of yours can.” He nods towards the punching bag but the insinuation isn’t lost on you. You and Logan had been very active in your relationship. You could barely go a day without tasting each other.
You’ve been pent up since the breakup. You’d given in a few days ago, pulled out your old vibrator, and tried to bring even a semblance of joy back into your life. But nothing could compare to Logan.
His tongue darts out, wetting his lips as he waits for you to react. He’s standing there, staring down at you with all the surety in the world that you’re going to fuck him. It makes you want to dig your nails in and rip him apart, bit by bit.
You can already picture it in your mind, using your abilities to pick him apart until he’s nothing but molecules dispersed through the air. He’s lucky you have the cuffs on, without them you’re sure he’d already be dead.
You smirk and move towards the edge of the ring, your voice drops as you purr up at him, “You wanna play, Logan?”
He grins and moves off the ropes, starting towards you as you make your way onto the ring. You’re slightly less graceful than he was, but you’re too focused on wiping the smug look off his face to pay attention. “Come on kid,” he taunts, voice as low as it usually is when he’s fucking into you. “Let’s see what you got.”
You’re not stupid enough to just outright swing at him. You feint to the right and bring your knee up into his ribs. He only needs one hand to wrap around your thigh and drag you forward. His other hand goes to your hip, tugging you closer until you’re practically grinding against each other. You grit your teeth and glare up at him.
“Come on, sweetheart, that can’t be all you got for me.” Energy wraps around your head, blurring the air around you. You slam your temple against his, it provides enough of a distraction for you to yank your leg out of his grip. You throw your right fist into his ear, bouncing back with a grin as he shakes his head.
He practically growls as he reorients himself. You shrug and smirk, “What, don’t tell me that’s all you got, wolvie.”
“Don’t fuckin’ call me that,” he grumbles. You open your mouth, prepared to taunt him again. But he’s lunging towards you and you just barely have enough time to dart out of his way. You know he’s going easy on you. He could have had you just then if he really wanted this.
But he’s dragging this out. Forcing you to spend as much time with him as you can. It only pisses you off further. You plant your foot on his back and kick him forward. He barely even stumbles and it only further confirms your suspicions. “Stop fucking holding back,” you yell at him.
He turns around slowly. You almost expect there to be a sneer on his face, something angry. Instead, he looks fucking thrilled, like this is all just foreplay for him. He laughs, so low you can barely hear it, and his chest flexes as his claws come out.
“You sure?” It’s a taunt, a dare, he knows you aren’t going to take the bait. You’d be stupid to, you don’t heal like he does. Once those things get in you, you’re screwed. But right now, you’re too pissed off to try and care.
You don’t say anything, you just duck under his fist as he swings at you. You know he made it easy for you, giving you an opening to fall into. He’s treating you like you’re something fragile. And maybe you are. One wrong move in this fight and you might not make it through the night. But anger is making you blind to logic.
Him playing fair just makes you want to play dirty. You use the opening he gives you, letting energy form around your fist and pulling back just enough to slam into his ribs. He coughs, doubling over as you hear bones crack under your hit. He’ll heal in seconds, you can’t bring yourself to feel too bad for him.
Maybe if he ever took you seriously you might not be such a bitch. But he didn’t think you were good enough to be honest with and he still was treating you like a plaything. In your opinion, he deserves whatever you give him and more. He doubles over and you swing your leg around, bringing it down across his face.
You hear a crack as your socked foot connects with his face, something crunches underneath you. And when your sole hits the mat again you see the blood leaking from his nose. You almost apologize. Almost, then you see the look on his face. His pupils are swallowing the hazel of his eyes, lips parted as he pants through his teeth. He looks fucking animalistic.
You have no warning as he pounces on you. His lips smother your own, moving over you with little to no grace. There’s nothing romantic or gentle about this. His fingers are digging so hard into your shirt, you’re sure you hear the seams rip. But you can’t bring yourself to care.
One of your hands goes to his hair, tugging at the roots until he’s groaning into your mouth. You rake your nails up his back roughly. He cusses against your lips, hand traveling up to your chin so he can roughly jerk you back.
He stares down at you, a silent question on his face. You’ve barely nodded before he’s descending upon you again. Lips and teeth clash borderline painfully as he lowers you onto the mat. You’re missing all the usual love and tenderness he treats you with, but you don’t care.
You want to be rough. You want to hurt him like he hurt you, make him ache for you the way you do him. You wrap your legs around his, lifting your pelvis until you have enough leverage to flip him. Your thighs straddle his waist and you grind down against the prominent bulge in his sweatpants.
He groans into your open mouth, large palms grabbing at your ass and spreading you so he can thrust between your clothed thighs. You can’t help but moan at the friction. It’s just enough to keep you on edge, he pulls back every time you think you might be close to something real building.
You rip your mouth off his. He glares up at you as you grab his hair and yank his head back. You slam his head hard enough into the mat for it to echo through the room and he growls against your grip. You grin down at him as you slowly get off him. You make a show of stripping, enjoying the way his eyes track your movements. He looks like a dog, panting and waiting for his treat.
You’re tempted to get yourself off, making him watch, and then leave him straining against his sweatpants. But you need this bad, need him to scratch the itch you can’t reach so you can finally get him out of your head. Neither of you are patient as he jerks his sweatpants down just enough for his cock to pop out.
It’s already leaking from the tip like a faucet. You kneel, straddling his waist again. You don’t have to do much to slick him up. You pump him a few times before he’s gripping your wrist and jerking your hand away. “Get up here,” he commands, voice rough as he grips your hips. You don’t even get a chance to protest before he’s flipping you over.
He grabs your thighs and wraps them around his waist. Your ass is off the ground, hovering above his lap as he lines up with your slit. You moan when the tip rubs against your clit. “Whose teasing now?” You grit out, glaring at him.
His lips curl up, that insufferable smirk on his face before he slams into you. The attitude is practically fucked out of you as he starts pumping in and out. You groan, raking your hands down his chest. He fucking moans at the pain, blood blooming under your nails and immediately closing the further down you go.
Neither of you are giving up this fight, you don’t want to lose, not even while you’re fucking. He pulls out of you and flips you over so fast you don’t even have time to whine. He’s back in you before you can blink, hips slapping into you in a way that you know is going to leave bruises tomorrow. You’re not going to be able to sit for a week and he knows it. His hands are groping at the skin of your ass, pulling you apart and watching the skin ripple as he fucks into you.
You’re not going to last long. You’ve been too desperate, too pent up while you’ve been pissed off at him. He leans over you, draping himself across you lazily. You groan at the added weight, it only adds to the sensation, only makes you want him deeper inside you. “Thought you didn’t want me anymore, sweetheart.” He whispers in your ear and you flutter around him as his hand snakes around your waist, rubbing tight circles on your clit.
You open your mouth but all that comes out is disjointed moans. You know there’s something sarcastic in there, and he must know too because he laughs at your pathetic mumbled sentence. “I don’t know,” he leans back and watches as he makes room for himself inside you. “Seem to need me real bad now.”
Your nails dig into the mat, energy leaking through your fingertips and warming up the canvas beneath you. You can feel it fluctuating, fighting against the cuffs the closer he brings you to the edge. “Fuck you,” the words escape you at a particularly deep thrust and you struggle to keep your eyes open.
He pauses and you nearly cry at the loss of movement. “Sorry, couldn’t hear you. What’d you say? Stop?”
You glare over your shoulder at him “Don’t you fucking dare, Logan.” You let your power push up against his back, forcing his hips to move again. He chuckles at the move, fingers creating figure eights on your nub.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart,” he protests, voice innocent. “Ah, fuck,” his voice is nothing more than low grunts and groans in your ear the closer the both of you get to your release. You can’t speak anymore, can’t think. You can feel it cresting higher and higher inside you.
Your abilities are rising with your release. They’re pushing against the cuffs, fighting desperately against the control the foreign metal has on your powers. You can feel it, heat building up under your skin, like a tingling on the tip of your tongue that you just can’t reach. It’s Logan’s release that finally tips you over the edge.
The way his breath catches and his hips stutter in their perfect rhythm as warmth floods you from the inside out. You can feel it, him, dribbling down your thighs and staining the mat beneath you. It has you clenching around him, pushing your hips back weakly while you let the feeling overwhelm you. You nearly black out. Two weeks without him hadn’t felt long until you remembered what you were missing.
You lose your sense of time, dropping to the mat like your bones have gone liquid, dripping out of you. You can feel Logan draped over you still, his weight a comforting blanket that nearly has you drifting to sleep. Naked, in the middle of the boxing ring. He pulls out of you and you whimper at the loss.
He shushes you, rubbing a hand up your spine and pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your temple. He wraps his arms around you, laying down and pulling you back into his chest. It takes a few minutes of quiet cuddling for you to remember what exactly led you down to the gym in the first place.
You feel disgusted with yourself for giving in to him so easily. It’s clear what his plan had been. And you’d fallen for it hook, line, and sinker. You’d barely even fought against him. Of course, you could reason that you needed to get the tension out. This was the perfect way to funnel out your built-up energy.
But you’re disgusted with yourself for giving in to him so easily. You just disregarded dignity and self-respect for a chance to get him between your legs. You were such a fucking idiot. No wonder this is all he wanted you for.
“Shit,” you mutter, trying to pull yourself out of his grip. Your eyes widen as his arms tighten around your waist. He tugs you back down until he’s got you in what essentially feels like a headlock. He could easily pass it off as spooning, but it feels a little more demanding than that. “Logan,” you warn, the silent peace of the moment officially shattered.
“Don’t,” he gripes. You can fight against him for as long as you want, but you’ll only tire yourself out. His arms are literally metal bands around you. “Let me talk and then you can run off.” You huff and wait, but he never speaks. Finally, you look over your shoulder and glare at him. “Well?”
You roll your eyes, “Fuck’s sake,” you mutter. “Alright, speak.”
You can feel his grin against the back of your head. If he didn’t have you in such a tight grip, you’d elbow him in the gut just to be petty. “I made a mistake,” you scoff and he keeps going. Stopping you from interrupting him with something bitchy. “You weren’t just something convenient to me, sweetheart.” he pauses and chuckles, “You’re a huge fucking pain in my ass.”
“Is this your idea of an apology?” You snap, “Because this is pathetic.”
He doesn’t say anything and you’re tempted to snark at him again. But then the world is flipped on its side as he jerks you around and forces you to face him. Your chests rub together, the sweaty skin sticking together and bordering on uncomfortable. “You ever shut up?” He asks, but there’s no heat to the words. If anything he looks fond of you, and it makes you shift around, trying not to look him in the eye. But there’s nowhere for you to hide, you’re both naked and bare before each other.
You’re as physically vulnerable as he must feel emotionally. And as much as this is a horrible way to display how he’s feeling, you’re starting to understand him a little better. You know why this conversation is so hard for him, why he can’t accept that someone truly loves him and he loves her back.
But that’s not going to get him out of it. He’s still yet to say the words. Maybe if he manned up and said something real you’d consider forgiving him. You give him an expectant look and he sighs, forehead pressed against yours as he slumps over you. You want to pretend you’re annoyed at the contact, but you’ve been craving it since you ran away two weeks ago.
You’ve been desperate for this warmth that only he can provide you. Without realizing it, you nuzzle further into his chest, hands drifting up to wrap around his bare waist. Logan feels the tightness in him ease slightly at the way you curl into him. He’s got a shot, even if you try and tell him he doesn’t.
It’s silent for a while, while you linger in the emotions of what just happened and he tries to find the right words. He leans down, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear and smiling against the shell of your ear. “I love you,” he whispers.
You’d told yourself you’d only consider forgiving him if he said those words. But that’s only because you’d never thought he would actually say it. You didn’t think he was capable of admitting that to himself. It seems so out of character for him. But, maybe, you don’t know him as well as you thought you did.
He pulls back, hand landing on your jaw and gently guiding your head out of his neck. He gives you an expectant look but you’re finding it hard to meet his eyes. You’ve been waiting for him to say that, but now it feels like you can’t. You’re still struggling to forgive him. He put you through so much unnecessary hurt just because he couldn’t face his own feelings.
And now you’re struggling to do the same. “I want to say it back,” you tell him. “But how am I supposed to trust that the next time things get hard, you won’t lash out again?”
He frowns, an irritated huff of breath shooting out his nose. But you know it’s frustration towards himself. For letting you both get to this point because he couldn’t just say three words. “I’ll wait,” he promises. “For as long as it takes, I’ll wait.”
You smile and nod, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face in his neck. You’re sure you’ll be saying it sooner rather than later. But what’s the harm in making him squirm a little? He deserves it.
A/N: I don’t write smut, it’s literally in my rules. I think I stared at a gif of him for too long and some horny ass demon possessed me and made me write this. Forgive me, universe, I’m no better than a man.
thinking about medical play and being examined right now, hushed into submission because oh, of course this is for my health, and of course, doctor knows best.
You claim to crave salvation, but I see the way your eyes wander. I see the way you gaze so longingly at my hands. I see how you can never seem to meet my gaze, how your eyes never seem to raise past my lips.
Would it help if I made you?
Would it help if I made you kneel before me? If I tied my cincture around your neck? Wrapping that holy cord around my hand until I can force you to tip your head up?
Then you could see the amusement in my gaze as I nudge your legs apart with the toe of my dress shoe, the patent leather pressing right where you need it most.
Would you want a private sermon then? Trying to hold back from grinding against my shoe? Of course, I wont make it easy on you. If I think you're getting a little too distracted I'll have to give the cincture a tug, forcing you up onto your knees before allowing you to settle back down.
You'd better be good sweetheart, or I might forget where I was. If that happens, well, I'll just have to start from the beginning.
i like to think that our blogs are just our own little personal museums of all the things we like, and we can visit each other’s museums and leave nice notes at the reception.
A (not comprehensive) List of Little Self Care Things I Do When Everything Feels Like Too Much:
Bathing
Wash just your body, or just your hair. You may not be completely clean, but you ARE cleaner
Still feels like too much? No problem!
Take off any jewelry from your hands/wrists and wash your hands up to your elbows, just taking your time
Then wash your arm pits and groin, those are the stinkiest parts of the body
If you're feeling up to it, wash your face too
Once you're done washing, take your favorite body lotion and massage it in anywhere you washed
Shaving
Shaving takes time and patience (especially if you prefer to be mostly hairless), but you don't have to go through the whole process every time
Wanna wear that cute tank top/crop top but don't feel comfortable with how hairy your pits are today?
JUST shave your arm pits then
Wanna wear shorts/capries/a skirt, but feel your legs are too fuzzy?
Where on your legs do the cuffs/hem sit? JUST shave from there down
Facial hair looking kinda scruffy? Got an electric shaver? It won't give you as close a shave as a razor, but it'll help neaten you up a bit
After any shaving, get back in there with your lotion and work it in well
Laundry
Don't have the energy to drag that big basket you've been avoiding down to the washing machine? Out of clothes but need something to wear tomorrow?
Wash ONLY what you'll need for the next 1 or 2 days. A smaller load means less to put away after
Need a bra/binder/mask/etc for tomorrow? Wash ONE, then hang it to dry with a fan blowing on it.
The air movement will help it dry faster, and while it may not be 100% dry by morning, it should be dry enough to wear comfortably
This can be done for underwear and socks as well
Dental
Mouth feeling like sandpaper, but you still can't find it in you to go through the whole tooth care routine?
JUST brush your teeth before bed. You can floss in the morning
No energy to get in there and really scrub like your dentist told you to? Even just a quick scrub is better than nothing
You know those little Gum brand toothpick things? With runber bristles on them? They can't replace proper flossing, but the CAN at least get the worst of the gunk from between your teeth
Food
Hungry but can't bring yourself to put together a whole meal? That's okay!
Get all the fixings for a sandwich (bread, spreads, cheese, meat, etc), put them on a plate and eat that. You're still eating a sandwich, it's just not an assembled sandwich
Want a smoothy, but don't want to fuss with the blender? Put it all together as a yogurt bowl instead
Want a salad? Grab a couple lettuce leaves, a stick of celery, half a tomato, or whatever else you'd have in there, and toss it on a plate. Grab some dressing (or not) and you've got a personal size veggie platter
Cut an orange in half and eat the pulp out with a spoon
Cut an apple in half, and eat JUST one half. You can save the other half for later, or eat it right after the first if you feel up to it
Cutting a banana in half and squeezing out the fruit means you don't have to worry about those gross stringy bits
Simple Smoothie Recipe:
1 banana
1 egg
1 tsp vanilla extract
1 tsp honey/sugar
Milk (dairy, soy, almond, whichever)
Berries, yogurt, chocolate chips, jam (optional)
Directions
Put all ingredients except milk in a blender (or 4 cup measure if using a hand mixer)
Pour in milk until ingredients are ALMOST covered. There should be about 1 inch/2.5 cm of solid ingredients visible
Blender/mix for 30-60 seconds, or until desired consistency. Pour into your favorite glass, or drink straight from the container
Simple baked potato:
Clean a medium to large potato and use a fork to stab holes down the sides and at each end. Depending on the size, you should have stab your potato somewhere around 9-12 times.
Place the potato in the microwave just off of center, one end facing the center of the spinning plate
Microwave for 15 minutes, flipping the potato end for end after every 5 minutes
Put the potato on a plate with some sour cream or ranch dressing, and dip it like a big ol' french fry
House Cleaning
Feel like there's too many dishes? Pick ONE place setting (bowl, plate, knife, fork, spoon, cup), and ONE pot/pan, and clean those. Do the same at the end of each meal, and while it might take a while, you'll eventually get things down to a manageable level
Dust bunnies breeding in the corners? Pick ONE room or hallway every couple days and just clean there. ONE clean room is better than NO clean rooms
Your room is so messy you don't know where to start? Every time you enter your room, put ONE thing back where it belongs. Every time you leave your room, take one thing that doesn't belong out with you and put it where it belongs.
Sink looking kind of gross? Give it a quick wipe down the next time you wash your hands
Toilet needs a clean? Pick a part (lid, seat, back or bowl) and just clean that bit. Even if you're just wiping some of the dust off the back.
Scum ring building up in the shower/bathtub? Give it a quick scrub next time you bathe. Maybe you don't get the whole thing, but you DID make a start.
Fitness
No energy for a full walk? If you can, walk around your house/apartment building. You might not have gone far, but you were UP and you were OUTSIDE.
Can't get out for whatever reason? Are there stairs in your house? In your apartment building? If you can, walk up and down those a few times.
Not really able to do stairs? Do some simple stretches instead.
Reach down and try to touch your toes, holding for 20 seconds. Reach up over your head as high as you can, holding for 20 seconds. Repeat 5 times
Sitting in a chair, reach your right hand across your body and over your left shoulder and try to grab the back of the chair without lifting your butt. Hold for 20 seconds. Do the same with your left arm, holding for 20 seconds. Repeat 5 times
Standing, or sitting on a chair, gently pull your head towards your shoulder (right hand, right shoulder; left hand, left shoulder), reaching the other hand down towards the ground. Hold for 20 seconds, then gently push your head upright again (lifting your head with just your neck muscles can cause them to seize after a stretch). Repeat 5 times
Miscellaneous
Need to trim your nails, but don't feel like sitting through both hands? Pick one finger on each hand, and just trim that nail. Do another nail on each hand tomorrow, and another the day after that. You don't have to do them all at once
Having trouble remembering to drink enough water? Find a water bottle/mug/glass that you like and try to keep it near you as much as possible. I find actually having a bottle with me helps me remember to keep sipping.
Still having trouble with your water intake? Fruit and veggies (specifically like apples, oranges, tomatoes, bell peppers and avocados to name a few) have high water content and can help keep you hydrated
Even if you can't get to sleep, lieing in bed with your eyes closed is more restful than trying to wear yourself out by reading or something
Alternatively, doing some mild stretches, or a few sit ups/push ups/jumping jacks can help wear you out without engaging your brain too much
You are aloud to say "no". You don't even need to give a reason. If everything feels like too much, taking on more responsibility will only make it worse, which will only make your output poorer as a result.
A reminder that this is by no means a complete list, just some things I've found helpful in my journey through adhd, depression, and anxiety. Not all tasks need to be done all at once. Maybe you can't do much, but that doesn't invalidate the some you did. Just because you take longer to do a task doesn't mean your bad at it, or that it isn't worth doing. You'll get there when you get there.
Please feel free to add to this post, I'd love to see what self care tricks other people are using!
