sleeping between LOGAN and WADE means getting absolutely sandwiched. they’re both 6’2 and both superheroes? yeah you’re getting crushed.
LOGAN sleeps behind you. His arms around your body and his large, rough hands on your stomach, practically absorbing your body heat. His face buried in your hair or your neck. Your back against his chest. Don’t even think for a second that you might be able to get up without waking him up. You’re not. He’s holding you like a teddy bear, you’re not escaping. He definitely growls in his sleep. And trust, him and Wade are gonna sleep as naked as possible. In nothing but their boxers, maybe a t-shirt. Skin to skin sleep for them >>>
WADE on the other hand, lays in front of you. His legs tangled in yours and his arm slung over you and Logan’s bodies. Your face practically stuffed into his chest or neck. He’d hug you if Logan didn’t entirely have you in his possession. So he just forces his way into y’all’s cuddling as much as possible. Logan definitely grumbles about it into your skin but he doesn’t do anything about it besides scratch stab him occasionally.
There’ll be nights where Wade manages to steal you and Logan “reluctantly” hooks onto him so he can hold you. And best believe, Logan turned your bed into a somewhat nest so there will never be a warmer place to be. Or when you lay at an angle, your head on Wade’s chest and Logan’s hands on your hips and thighs. Either way, you’re stuck between them and you’re never escaping.
❝ 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜 ❞ W.W / L.H ( wolverine : origins )
pairing wade wilson x logan howlett x fem! reader 🥛.
synopsis 𖥧 wade and you getting caught, and joined.
content 𖥧 fem/afab reader, reader is older than wade, porn-no-plot, piv, dom! reader, sub! wade, dom! logan, cuck! logan.
💬 : yummy yummy
The door to your quarters had been locked. You were certain of it. The heavy bolt had slid home with a satisfying thunk nearly forty-five minutes ago, a sound that had made Wade shiver against you in anticipation.
Your room was at the end of the hall, a small mercy granted by Stryker to the only woman on the team. It wasn't much—a cot, a desk, a footlocker—but it had a door that locked. Or, more accurately, a door that had a flimsy latch that you'd reinforced with a chair wedged under the handle.
The chair was currently on the floor, kicked aside in the rush of bodies and hands and mouths that had happened approximately thirty seconds after Wade had slipped through your door like a shadow, his eyes already dark, his mouth already open, his hands already reaching.
Now, the chair lay forgotten. So did most of your clothes. So did, from the look of it, most of Wade's higher brain functions.
You'd pushed him onto the bed—your bed, because his smelled like cheap cologne and desperation, which was endearing but not conducive to your mood—and he'd gone willingly, eagerly, practically launching himself onto the mattress like a dog being told it was time for walkies.
Now he was exactly where he belonged.
Beneath you.
He was on his back on your narrow cot, his head half-buried in your one flat pillow, his black t-shirt rucked up around his armpits, his jeans and boxers tangled around one ankle. His chest was bare, pale and lean and smooth, rising and falling in short, sharp gasps. His hands—those restless, fidgeting, always-moving hands—were gripping your hips like you were the only solid thing in a world that had suddenly turned to water.
You were on top of him. Straddling him. Riding him with a slow, deep rhythm that had his heels digging into the thin mattress, his back arching, his mouth falling open on a sound that was half-moan, half-word, and entirely unintelligible.
"Fuck—oh, fuck- that's-you're- gods-"
His voice cracked on the last word, his hips jerking up to meet yours in a stuttering motion that told you everything you needed to know about how close he was. His eyes were glazed, his pupils blown so wide there was barely a ring of blue left. His lips were parted, wet, slightly swollen from where he'd been biting them in a futile attempt to keep quiet.
It hadn't worked, of course. Nothing could make Wade Wilson shut up. Not fear, not danger, and certainly not pleasure. If anything, pleasure made it worse.
"God- you- that- right there—no, wait, there—yes, there-"
His voice cracked on the last word, his hips jerking up to meet your next downward stroke. You felt him twitch inside you, felt the way his whole body tensed and then melted, and you smirked down at him.
"You're going to have to pick a direction, Wade," you said, your voice low, a bit out of breath but utterly in control. "You can't have 'right there' and 'no, wait' in the same breath, honey. Pick one."
He whined. Actually whined, a high, thin sound that came from somewhere deep in his throat. "I can't- you're- this is- I'm experiencing too many sensations at once. Don't be me-ah-ah-nngh"
His words dissolved into a high, breathy moan as you changed the angle, rolling your hips forward just so. His hands spasmed on your thighs, fingers digging in.
"m'not being mean, darling." you murmured, and then you raked your nails down his chest.
The effect was instantaneous.
He whimpered. A high, needy, utterly shameless sound that went straight to your core. His back arched into the touch, chasing the sting, and you did it again, harder this time, leaving faint red trails across his skin.
"Yes-yes- yesyes- more, please-" His voice was a wreck, raw and desperate. "More. Harder. I want to look like I lost a fight with a very sexy wolverine. Not Logan- well, maybe Logan- no, wait, that came out wrong, I'm not—I mean I am, but that's not—fuck."
You chuckled, a moan catching on the sound when you dove home just right. "You want the whole world to know what a needy little thing you are?" you asked, your voice a purr. "You want them to know how you sound when I ride you? How you whine and beg and turn into a puddle?"
"Yes," he gasped, and there was no shame in his voice, just raw, unbridled honesty. "Yes, I want—I want a billboard. I want a parade. I want to write it in the sky- 'Property of-' fuck, do that again-'"
"You like it rough, don't you, puppy?"
"Yes— God, i love it rough-ngh"
You tugged on his short hair, tilting his head back, exposing the long line of his throat. He was panting now, his chest flushed, his nipples peaked, the scratches you'd left standing out in stark relief against his pale skin. He looked debauched. Ruined. Beautiful.
"You're loud," you observed, your voice perfectly calm even as you rode him harder, faster, chasing your own pleasure now. "Very loud."
"I can't- I can't-" His hips were pistoning up to meet yours, his control completely gone. "You feel too- too good, too tight- m'gonna-"
You leaned forward, your chest brushing against his, your mouth at his ear. "You're going to wake up the whole base," you murmured, and you felt him shiver beneath you. "You want Logan to hear you like this? You want him to walk in and see what a mess you are?"
His hips bucked. His breath caught. A strangled, desperate sound escaped his lips, and you felt something hot and slick spill from him inside you.
Pre-cum, you realized, and you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing. The mere suggestion of Logan walking in had nearly sent him over the edge.
"I—no- yes- maybe? fuck-" he stammered, his face flushing a deep, mortified red. "Don't- don't say that. I can't- if you say that again I'm going to-"
You felt him pulse inside you, felt the wet heat of more pre-cum, and you knew if you kept this up he was going to lose it entirely before you were anywhere near done.
You sat up, breaking the rhythm, and he sobbed.
"No, no, no, don't stop, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'll be quiet, I'll be so quiet, just please don't stop, please, pleaseee-"
You pressed your hand over his mouth.
He went silent instantly.
He went silent instantly, his eyes going wide and dark, his breath hot and fast against your palm. You felt his tongue dart out, a nervous, involuntary flick, and then you started moving again.
His eyes fluttered half-closed, his lashes dark against his flushed cheeks, and you watched the last vestiges of his composure crumble into dust.
He was babbling. You could feel the frantic movement of his lips against your skin, a stream of nonsense syllables and half-formed words that meant nothing and everything. His hands had moved from your thighs to your hips, gripping so hard you knew there would be fingertip-shaped bruises there tomorrow. Good. You wanted them.
"Mmmph- mmm, nngh!"
You rode him harder, your palm pressed firmly over his mouth, his muffled cries the only sound in the room aside from the wet, rhythmic slap of skin against skin. His eyes were glazed, unfocused, his whole being narrowed down to the point where your bodies joined, where you were clamped around him like a vise, taking everything he had and demanding more.
He was a puddle. A mess. Exactly where you wanted him.
Which was, of course, when the door opened.
The lock clicked, or rather, didn't click, because Logan's claws had apparently made short work of it. The door swung inward with a soft creak, and there he stood, framed in the doorway, his bulk blocking the light from the hallway.
Logan. In all his broad-shouldered, whiskey-scented, unkillable glory.
His eyes swept the room in an instant, taking in everything: Wade sprawled beneath you, his chest marked with fresh scratches, his face half-hidden behind your hand, his hips still jerking helplessly up into you. Your position atop him, your thighs spread wide, your hair a wild tangle around your face. The smell of sex that permeated the air, thick and unmistakable.
One eyebrow went up.
Wade saw him.
You felt it happen—felt the way his whole body seized, the way his eyes went impossibly wider, the way his cock twitched inside you, a sudden, sharp jerk that was followed by another hot pulse of pre-cum that made your breath catch. His muffled moan was high and reedy, his cheeks flooding with color, his hands scrabbling at your hips like he didn't know whether to push you away or pull you closer.
He chose closer. Of course he did.
His hips bucked up against you again, a frantic, needy motion, and you could feel him trembling, feel the way he was fighting—and losing—against the urge to come right then and there, just from the humiliation of being seen. His eyes were locked on Logan's face, wide and mortified, but his body was telling a very different story.
You didn't stop.
You couldn't. Not now. If you stopped, he'd start crying. Not the sexy kind of crying, either—the kind that involved hiccups and snot and thirty minutes of apologetic babbling about how he was sorry he came too fast, he'd do better next time, please don't be mad, he could go again, just give him a minute, he promised-
You'd made that mistake once. Never again.
So you kept moving, kept rolling your hips in that slow, punishing rhythm, even as Logan stood in the doorway, taking in the scene with an expression that was carefully, deliberately blank.
"He's close," you said, your voice as calm as if you were discussing the weather. "If I stop now, he's going to cry. He's very sensitive."
Logan's eyebrow climbed higher. He looked at you, then at Wade, then back at you. His nostrils flared slightly (a tiny, almost imperceptible movement) and you knew. You knew he'd smelled it from the start of the hallway.
"Logan," you said, your voice as calm as if you were discussing the weather. "Close the door."
He didn't move for a moment. His eyes flicked from Wade's face, flushed, desperate, still half-muffled by your hand, to where your bodies were joined, visible in the dim light, the slick evidence of your activities smeared across both your thighs. His nostrils flared almost imperceptibly.
The bastard could smell everything. You knew he could. He'd probably been able to scent this from the moment they'd stepped back onto base, the pheromones rolling off both of you in waves: yours, dark and spiced, the dominant note in the room; Wade's, cloyingly sweet, almost sickly, the scent of a desperate, needy male.
Logan had chosen to come here. Had chosen to walk down the hallway, past the other quarters, to your door. Had chosen to open it.
He was a lot of things, but stupid wasn't one of them.
With a soft click, he closed the door behind him.
Wade made a sound against your palm, something high and desperate, half whimper, half moan, and you felt him twitch again, felt the way his hips bucked up into you like he couldn't help himself, like his body was operating on pure instinct now. His eyes were still on Logan, tracking him as he moved further into the room.
Logan didn't say anything at first. He just leaned against the wall near the bed, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching. His expression was a masterpiece of studied disinterest, but there was something in his eyes—something dark and knowing—that made your thighs tighten around Wade's hips.
"Having fun?" Logan asked, his voice a low rumble.
You didn't answer. You just kept riding Wade, kept that steady rhythm that had him whimpering into your palm, his fingers digging crescents into your hips.
Wade made a sound that might have been words, might have been a prayer, might have been both. His hips were moving in counterpoint to yours now, shallow, frantic thrusts that told you he was hanging on by a thread. His face was flushed all the way down his neck, the color spreading across his chest, mingling with the scratches you'd left there.
"Jesus Christ. Do you two have any idea how loud you are? I could hear you from the goddamn roof."
Wade made a sound against your palm—something that might have been an apology or might have been another whine, it was hard to tell. His face was burning, a deep, mortified red that spread from his cheeks down his neck to his chest. He looked like he wanted to die.
You glanced at Logan, a slow, deliberate look. "You could leave," you pointed out. "Close the door. Pretend this never happened."
Logan didn't move. His arms were still crossed, his jaw still tight, but his eyes had drifted back to the bed, to the scene unfolding in front of him. His gaze lingered on Wade's flushed face, on the scratches on his chest, on the way his body arched and trembled beneath you.
"I could," he agreed, his voice low, rough. "But then I'd have to listen to the rest of it through the walls. Might as well stay and make sure you keep it down."
You smiled. It was a slow, knowing smile, the kind that made men like Logan uncomfortable. "Sure," you said. "That's the reason."
Logan's eyes narrowed, but he didn't deny it.
"You gonna make a mess?" he asked to the trembling mass under you, his voice dropping lower, his gaze fixed on where your bodies met. "Gonna come in her like a good little boy?"
Wade's eyes rolled back. His lips moved against your palm, forming words you couldn't quite catch, but the gist of it was clear: yes, yes, so good, please, more, don't stop, please don't stop—
Logan's eyebrow quirked again. He looked at you, something unreadable in his eyes. "He always like this?"
"Always," you said, and your voice was still calm, still steady, even as you felt Wade's spent cock twitch inside you, already starting to stir again. "He's needy."
"Mmph," Wade agreed, or tried to. His eyes were fixed on Logan now, wide and pleading.
"He always this pathetic?" He repeated himself, as if needing clarification for.. research pruposes, probably.
"Always," you confirmed, and you felt Wade shiver beneath you, a full-body tremor that made his teeth click together. "He likes it. He likes being pathetic. He likes being watched."
Wade's eyes went wide. He shook his head frantically, a jerky, desperate denial, but his hips betrayed him, bucking up into you, and the sound he made against your hand was pure, unfiltered want.
Logan watched him for a long moment. Then, slowly, he lowered himself to sit on the edge of the bed, right next to where Wade's head was pillowed on the rumpled sheets. The mattress dipped under his weight, tilting both of you slightly, and Wade made a sound that was half gasp, half moan.
"You want something?" Logan asked, looking down at him. His voice was casual, almost bored, but there was an edge to it that made Wade shiver.
Wade nodded against your palm, frantic, his eyes wide and desperate.
Logan glanced at you, one eyebrow raised in silent question. You gave him the smallest nod, and you saw something flicker in his eyes—satisfaction, maybe. Or anticipation. Or both.
He reached out, slow and deliberate, and pried your hand away from Wade's mouth.
The sound that came out of Wade was obscene. A ragged, desperate moan that seemed to be torn from somewhere deep in his chest, his lips red and wet from being pressed against your palm, his whole face slack with need.
"Please," he gasped, the word barely audible. "Logan, please, I- I can't-she—it's too much—"
"Too much?" Logan's voice was a low rumble, his hand coming to rest on Wade's chest, right over one of the scratches you'd left. Wade's whole body arched into the touch, a keening sound escaping his lips. "Thought you liked it rough."
"I do-I doIdoIdoo- please!"
Logan's hand moved, fingers tracing the scratch marks, pressing down just enough to make Wade gasp. "Look at you," he murmured, and there was something in his voice now, something dark and approving. "All spread out, taking what she gives you. Pathetic." His fingers found Wade's nipple, pinched, and Wade's cry was a raw, desperate thing. "And you love it."
"Yes—"
"You're gonna come," Logan said, not a question. "Soon. Gonna fill her up, make a real mess. Aren't you?"
Wade was nodding, his head thrashing against the pillow, his hips moving in frantic little jerks beneath you.
Logan's hand moved from Wade's chest to his jaw, gripping it, turning his face up so their eyes met. "Look at me when you do it," he said, and his voice was a low growl. "Want to see your face when you fall apart."
Wade made a sound that was almost a sob, his eyes fixed on Logan's, and you felt it—felt the way his control shattered, the way he gave in completely, his hips bucking up into you with wild, desperate thrusts as he came, harder than he'd had in his life, his mouth open in a silent 'o', his eyes never leaving Logan's face.
You rode him through it, taking everything he had, and when he finally went limp beneath you, his chest heaving, his eyes fluttering closed, you looked up at Logan.
He was watching Wade's face with an expression that was hard to read. Something that might have been satisfaction. Something that might have been hunger. His hand was still on Wade's jaw, thumb stroking absently over his cheekbone.
"You're not leaving." you said. It wasn't a question.
Logan's eyes met yours. "No?"
You didn't answer. You just looked at him, at the way his gaze kept drifting down to where you were still seated on Wade's hips, at the way his pupils were dilated, the way his breathing had gone just slightly uneven.
"I haven't come."
"You haven't." he confirmed.
Logan's hand tightened on Wade's jaw, and Wade made a sound that was half whimper, half moan, his eyes fluttering open to find Logan's face above him, and the smile that spread across his face was dazed, blissful, utterly wrecked.
"Can't even do that right, huh, kid? Guess I've gotta step in."
He was, you thought, exactly where he belonged. And so, perhaps, were the rest of them.
Spending Valentine's Day with....Logan, Wade, Poolverine, Kurt, Charles and Erik
Logan Howlett, Wade Wilson, Logan & Wade poly, Kurt Wagner, Charles Xavier, Erik Lensherr x GN!Reader
Summary: How Logan, Wade, Poolverine, Kurt, Charles and Erik spend Valentine's Day with you.
Warnings: mild swearing, cheesy adorableness, emotional repression (Erik and Logan...), fluff, sweet love
Word Count: 600
Logan -
He grumbles and groans when he starts seeing the decorations and merchandise in stores the day after new years. "It's all worthless crap just to squeeze a buck outta ya for the sake of love" You don't expect anything but as February 14th rolls around, you notice little things. Logan gets your coffee from that little cafe you like even though the prices are ridiculous. He makes - or gets Kurt to help him make - your favourite breakfast. The day is filled with small, quiet versions of "I love you" and you wouldn't have it any other way.
Wade -
Wade's all about it. He's buying the cheesy cards and filling your kitchen with flowers. That morning, you wake up to rustling outside your bedroom door and when you peek out, gun in hand, you see Wade smiling brightly. "Happy Valentine's Day, Sweet cheeks!" He's in a forest. Pink, red and white flowers all over him. He's a big fan of days in with you so he's picked out a heap of romcoms to watch. Some are, particular choices. LIke The Proposal, with that weird douchey guy who's honestly kinda ugly for a romantic lead. Wade's words. You gorge on the excessive amount of chocolate he got you and he starts thinking he's buzzed from all the cherry liqueur flavours. The day is ridiculous, cheesy, sweet and comfortable, just like Wade.
Poolverine -
Karaoke date. Hands down. Super cheesy and adorable. You and Wade are both awful and loud as hell and having the best time of your lives. He picks "Teenage Dream" and points between himself and you and Logan out in the crowd during "You. Make. Me. Feel like I'm livin' a, Teen. Age. Dream." And he has actions for his skin tight jeans. The two of you sing classic duets over and over and Weasel almost has to kick you out and hugely regrets letting you talk him into a Night of Love Songs. Then, when it's just the three of you left in the bar, Logan gets up. Wade's been trying to convince him to sing the entire night but he just grumbles, saying he's too old for that shit. But when he does sing, it's one of the most beautiful things you've heard. The song he picks is quiet and understated, not showy, just simple love. And it melts you and Wade right there on the spot.
Kurt -
He's confused for a moment when someone mentions Valentine's Day. He'd never celebrated it so he honestly forgot it existed. He's actually adorable about it, since he doesn't really remember what to do, he researches it. He reads about every little sweet thing partners do for each other and decides that this year, he'll be doing all of them. Just for you.
Charles -
You had better believe this man loves Valentine's Day. He's taking you everywhere you want to go, doing everything you want to do and he has a beautiful romantic dinner planned, along with a thoughtful gift. Something you mentioned you wanted forever ago. He remembered, for months. The night almost feels magical with how perfect it is.
Erik -
He is very bitter about the holiday as a whole. "Why would I express how much I love you on a random day in February?" but there's a sweetness beneath it. He doesn't like the commercial holiday but he does like having an excuse to dote on you. Erik isn't good at expressing his feelings so Valentine's Day is a good excuse to show you just how much you mean to him. Even if he bitches about it half the time.
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Summary: Breeding kink with Wade and Logan LETS GOOOO 🗣🗣‼ They both want to knock you up. That's it. That's the fic. Have fun
Wordcount: 1.3k
Warnings/tags: english isn't my first language, porn without plot, threesome, breeding kink, impregnantion, Logan is in a rut, Wade ist just horny as usual, creampies, unprotected penis in vagina sex, dirty talk, double penetration, cum eating, praise kink, belly bulge, slight cum inflation, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, A LOT of cum, squirting (lmk if I forgot something)
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"Gonna cum first. Gonna fill her up before you do" Logan grunted under you, his voice thick with pleasure as he bucked his hips up into your sopping cunt, his cock brushing Wade's with every thrust.
"Like hell you are." Wade answered with a groan. "Doubt that she wants some- fuck so tight, some hairy ass babies with your face on 'em and an innate alcohol addiction" he pressed out while pounding into your hole with purpose and determination.
You were sandwhiched between both men, your pussy split open with two big cocks as they each had the same goal - knocking you up. Logan had gone into a rut. Everything you did turned him on, just the smallest whiff of your scent made him hard, just hearing your voice made him want to turn you over and breed you until the sun came up. And Wade, well, he was always horny.
There was this unspoken competition Logan and Wade had going on, either one wanted to be the first to get you pregnant. They wanted to breed you so badly it hurt. Your body couldn't decide which direction to rock into as you were taken from behind and from the front. The stretch in your pussy was maddening and you couldn't get enough of it. Deeper, you wanted them to completely scramble your guts like this. You whimpered out a soft plea that was more of a slurring of words than anything else.
"What's that, pumpkin?" Wade purred into your ear, biting on it. His hand snaked from your clit to your abdomen, feeling how his and Logans cock nudged your womb with every thrust, creating a subtle bump every time they were buried to the hilt. It took everything in him not to just blow his load right there.
You gasped out, trying to grasp a single thought in your head but it was all so clouded and fogged with lust. "M-more. Want your cum" you babbled out to the two but also no one in particular. You felt Wade grin against your ear. "You hear that, peanut? She wants my cum" he panted smugly to Logan who gave a scoff. "Keep telling yourself that, mouth" he snarled but not without a competitive grin. You couldn't care less about who's baby it would be in the end, all you wanted was to be filled up.
Logan pulled your body down to lay flush against his chest. You whimpered and whined so cutely in this position, the way he bucked up into your sweet spot was enough to make you smother both of their cocks in your never ending arousal. "Gonna give you some pretty babies, bub" Logan growled to you, a shiver running up and down your spine at his words. You tightened even more around their cocks, if that was even possible. "Fuck yeah, that's it. You'd like that, huh? Getting so tight for us" Logan moaned, his hands grasping your hips to make you bounce faster on his cock and simultaniously rock you back against Wade.
"She is taking us so well" Wade rumbled deeply in his chest, taking shallow breaths as he felt Logans cock throb against his. "Getting close already, old man? Even though she hasn't cum yet? Shame on you" Wade tsk'ed and shook his head, only for his eyes to roll back as he felt your walls pulse around him.
Logan huffed, smirking. "Not going to be a problem, she is close, too. Aren't I right, bub?" Logan purred and lifted your head up from the crook of his neck by your hair, your lips plush and wet from spit. It took a few seconds until you focused your eyes on his, whining. "Gonna cum around our cocks, baby? Gonna squirt all over us while we breed that pretty little cunt?" he cooed to you, the sting on your head from his grip paired with his words made you cry out, your orgasm rolling over your body in strong waves.
Your pussy shuddered and trembled around them like never before. You slumbled forward into Logans arms, your back arching as you milked the men for all they were worth.
"Fuck, yes, take it. Take our cum like a good girl" Logan growled, Wade and him fucking their seed deeper into you. "You're gonna look so pretty with a baby bump, pumpkin" Wade whispered to you, sighing as his cock throbbed against Logans with every rope of cum filling you up.
You didn't count just how much you came after that. Logan and Wade took turns using your gaping pussy and breeding their cum deep into you. Sometimes one watched while the other pounded you in various positions, sometimes they abused your hole at the same time. You didn't know when an orgasm started and when it ended.
Every limb was burning with pleasure, your mind fucked completely dumb.
"Come on, baby. One more. You can take one more" Logan gasped for breath, his hips slamming against your ass while Wade was jerking off above your face. The noises that came from your pussy every time Logan plowed into you were obscene. It was so slick and wet between your legs, your whole lower half being covered in cum and squirt. It was all dripping out of you, but the boys were determinded to bury it back deep into your cunt, making your womb take their seed without mercy.
Another orgasm rippled through you, your cheeks as puffy as your overstimulated clit that Logan was rubbing to completion over and over again. Your legs trembled as you were filled up for the...how many times have it been? You didn't know, you didn't even know how long you had been going at it. Hours, days?
All you knew was that your abdomen was painfully full, especially when Logan pumped himself into you yet again like he hadn't emptied his balls in a while. Wade came over your face with a yell and you got to taste the familiar essence of his, licking it off your lips in a desperate manner.
You felt Logans cock throb deeply against your cervix for a good minute, him panting heavily over you. Finally he slowly pulled out of your hot cunt with a hiss, the mixture of both his and Wade's cum bubbling and spurting out of your pussy.
They had worn themselves out as best as they could, which often took a while. Your head was reeling, your body was buzzing with warmth and your tummy was full. Wade and Logan cleaned you up, but not without plugging up your pussy so nothing would go to waste. "Keeping it where it belongs, sugar. Right in your womb. Gotta make sure it sticks, ya know" Logan softly shushed your whining after he nestled one thick digit alongside Wade into your pussy to keep everything inside. Your pussy felt so raw and sensitive, but the two handled you with delicate care.
Logan kissed your neck soothingly from behind while Wade rubbed the little bump on your abdomen, created by all the loads they had forced inside you. "Look at you, already so pretty, pumpkin" he cooed.
You felt safe in their warm embrace, as they pampered your aching body. "I...I love you, guys" you croaked out, your first actual words in an hour or so as you regained some sense. They grinned softly, each kissing one of your cheeks. "We love you too, sugar" they said.
"And our little baby deadpool" Wade whispered to your tummy in a baby voice, to which Logan scoffed. "You mean a mini wolverine" Wade shook his head "Nah, baby deadpool"
"Mini wolverine"
"Baby deadpool"
"Mini wolverine!"
"Baby deadpool!"
"Mini wolve-" you stopped their back and forth by placing a hand on each of their mouths. "Quiet, we don't even know if I'm pregnant yet" you yawned, settling back into the pillows. The boys snuggled up with you. "Then we have to try again tomorrow" Logan said. "Just to be sure" Wade purred.
You were in for a looong weekend.
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I'VE NEVER WRITTEN A THREESOME BEFORE, PLS LET ME KNOW HOW I DID
The real question is though, would you rather want a mini wolverine or a baby deadpool? I'll take the mini wolverine🤭
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a/n : I don't know what came over me to write this, I have no excuse I'm just horny.
wc : 3k
NSFW , PORN WITH (LITTLE) PLOT , WADE IS A HORNY SHIT , MOMMY & DADDY KINK , GENERAL WADE™ BEHAVIOUR
sub!origins!wade wilson . dom!origins!logan . dom!reader
synopsis : wade has always been a kinky little shit, it seems that title is well-deserved when he starts to fantasize about squeezing himself into a married couple old enough to be his parents.
If someone in the team were to ask Wade why he looked as if he hadn't slept in a decade, he'd say he was up practising his katana skills.
When in reality, he had spent the whole night groaning and moaning against his pillow while rubbing himself raw to the thought of you and Logan.
What was so special about you two, you may ask?
You were married and were old enough to be his parents.
It was absolutely not his fault.
You two had no right to come into the X-Team, looking so fucking hot and expect him not to get hard.
You couldn't just walk around the place with Logan's strong arm around your waist and expect him not to stare. You couldn't just hum in acknolovedgment everytime Logan leant into your ear to rumble something that the merc couldn't quite catch and expect him not to grow desperate.
He was a walking mess. Day and night his thoughts were consumed by you and Logan, Logan and you, and what you could do to him. He couldn't help it, he'd blame the undiagnosed ADHD anyday for titty-flashing him with so many dirty scenarios anytime you walked past.
,,
Logan and you had been through a lot of shit togheter.
You had met sometime between the 1880's and the 1900's, both mutants and escaping from someone who was trying to do you harm. Both with the weight of taken lives over your shoulders, both with spilled blood on your hands. Both with the promise of living far too long.
And, cliche-y enough, you both had fallen in love. After uniting forces as acquintances, then growing as close as long-life friends, and then falling into the claws of love, you two had gotten married.
Happyly married, always attached to the hip, gold wedding wands on your ring fingers. Always watching out for the other.
And when William Stryker offered you both a place in a 'special opperations' team called X-Team, you both agreed —happy to help a cause—.
What you didn't expect, though, was Wade Wilson turning into another shit you had to go through togheter.
The mercenary seemed to never know when to shut his mouth, or how to read social cues, he just simply had a mouth too big for his own good. Hence why the nickname merc with a mouth was born amidst the members of the team.
He was a young man in his 20's, a cocky asshole and a total flirt that talked big game. He liked to show off during missions, pulling stunts, to impress Logan or you was another question that didn't have an answer yet.
You and your husband just knew the kid seemed to have the hots for one of you. Which made Logan boil with possesiveness because you were his damn wife, his and his only —possesiveness that in turn only made Wade all the more horny.
It wasn't until today's mission that you realized that the mercenary didn't have the hots for just one of you, but for both.
After trying to break in a building to stop some drug dealers, the team had split up and —ironically enough— left you three to flee from more guards than you could fight. And now, ironically enough again, you three were hidding in a really small supply closet.
You hadn't intended for it to end up this way, but your husband was with his broad back against the wall and with a pupil-blown Wade completely sandwiched between you two.
Wade was totally trying to keep his cool, desperately keeping up his usual cocky fachade, but his gut felt so damn coiled at having his ass pressed against Logan's crotch and his chest in level with yours.
"How did they notice us?!?" you asked your husband in a low breath, completely ignoring the merc between you.
Logan growled slightly, his nose twitching when a strangely strong scent wafted into his nostrils, shaking his head slightly as he tried to peek out from the small gap in the door. "dunno, doll, but I guess they didn't see us come here"
As you kept talking with your husband in hushed breaths, Wade was starting to feel his brain turning to damn mush as he was trapped between you two. He couldn't help it, your body warmth was sweeping into his bones from back and front —melting him—.
And then, suddenly he heard your voices stopping. Looking up with his half-glassy eyes, he was met by a quirked eyebrow and a deep scowl from Logan.
"are you damn horny right now, mouth?" Logan pretty much growled. His voice rumbling in his chest as he looked down at the young man between you two.
Wade blinked, realizing he had been so aroused —and locked up in his dirty fantasies— that he had pretty much started to leak in his pants.
"ohw, c'mon, what'd you expect?" the merc breathed out under your questioning gaze. "I've got my hot ass against someone's big dick and my face is smushed against this massive titties and jesus fucking christ—"
His words died down in a choked way when Logan's hand flied up to his throath, wrapping around it without issue —damn big hands the Canadian had— and squeezing. Choking a wheezed noise out of his mouth.
"shut your damn mouth if ya wanna keep your throath, bub" Logan growled in the merc's ear, his voice almost like the roar of a lion with how much red he was seeing.
You were just staring at the way Wade's eyes seemed to roll into the back of his head, thighs twitching before shamelessly parting —as if he wanted someone's hand between them—. The mercenary seemed to really be horny for you two.
"really, Wade?" you purred, voice low, as you stared at the young man —letting your husband do the job of shutting him up. "going after a married couple like this? didn't think you'd fall that low.."
Wade struggled to breathe through his nose with Logan's tight grip around his throath, but he spoke nonetheless. "aughn— you two are fucking god- relax the grip old man literally bisexual culture-"
His gasped words only made the growl bubbling up in Logan's throath grow louder. You saw the veins in your husband's arm bulging as he squeezed around Wade's throath again, watching the way the merc choked on his spit —saliva slobbering down the corner of his lips.
You reached out your own hand and placed it atop of Logan's, as if methaporically holding your husband's hand while he choked Wade.
"fucking god you two are really feeding my mommy and daddy issues right now y'kno-oh-oww—"
Wade's spech got cut off my another series of squeezes around his throath, making the mercenary cough and choke on his spit as his head fell forwards against your chest.
"watch your damn mouth, mouth"
"ngh-ah- unluckily for you I've got a thing for being put in my place by dominant, sexy, grown-ups. Big ones with huge—"
His voice died in his own throath when two, huge and thick, fingers were proding at his mouth. Sneaking past his lips and stuffing him full, his eyes rolled back, knees almost buckling underneath him when the meaty taste of sweat invaded his mouth.
"shut it, bub"
"hmn-nhgh"
"you managed to shut him up" you low whistled at your husband, impressed by how quickly and efficiently the merc had shut up. Now busy with nibbling at the fingers inside of his mouth.
"easy peasy" Logan huffed with a slight roll of his eyes. "don't know how long it'll last, though, just look at how damn much the kid's leaking"
Wade whined around Logan's fingers at the way you two were speaking as if he wasn't there, thighs trying to close when he felt your eyes going down and settling on the obvious tent in his pants —and the wet spot.
"so horny" you hummed, more to yourself than anything, before looking back at his face. "what does this mean, baby?" you purred as you pointed to the gold ring on your finger with a neutral look on your face —as if he wasn't coming undone before your eyes. "I don't think you're that dumb yet. C'mon, what does this, right here, mean, Wade?"
Wade struggled to swallow the spit pooling in his mouth around Logan's fingers, body almost tumbling forward when the Canadian ripped his fingers off of his mouth so suddenly.
"I- aughn- I—" he stumbled over his words, swallowing again, as his hazy eyes looked up at you. "that's a daddy and mommy ring" he wheezed out, a little "ah-ah!" escaping his lips when Logan grabbed his hair from the back —forcing him to behave—. "means- angh means that you're married. And old enough to be my grand-parents-"
"That's right, bub" Logan growled, leaning in close to whisper in Wade's ear. "We're a married couple and you're nothing but a pest."
"now, now, darling" you hummed lovingly as you looked at your husband, who was still grabbing Wade by his hair. "don't be so mean.. It turns him on"
That last was a low drawl, before your hand was cuping Wade's cheek and making sure the cold metal of the gold wedding ring you wore was against the merc's skin. "We've lived through wars, honey, you're a literal baby compared to us" you added, voice low and degradatory.
Wade shuddered as the cold metal of your wedding ring pressed against his skin, his eyes looking up at you with a mixture of desire and submission.
"I'm a- nnnng baby" he repeated, almost breathless. "Logan and you are old. So old."
Logan leaned in closer, his hand still clamped around Wade's hair. "Old enough to be your parents" he repeated, his voice dark and gravely. His teeth almost gracing Wade's ear. "Old enough that you shouldn't be interested in us, bub."
"Please, I- I- ahhhhnn I promise I'm good, I promise I'm good, I- I can be good."
It was funny, really, to see such a cocky and show-off of a man being this needy and whiny between you two. But what could you say, it was the Howlett effect.
You slowly slipped your gold wedding band out of your ring finger, right infront of Wade's eyes —watching the way he almost busted on the spot just from the sight alone—.
"this is what'chu want, ain't it honey?" you teased the mercenary trembling and whining between you. "you want this pretty ring on your finger too, don't ya? you wanna be the throphy toy to a hot, married couple old enough to be your parents, don't you, sweetheart?"
You held the wedding ring infront of Wade's face as one of your hands started to rub his arm —slowly going down to his hand—. Wade was shaking, he didn't even know how he hadn't cum untouched yet with how tight and hot his gut felt. All of his muscles coiled.
Wade looked like he was about two seconds away from spontaneously combusting right there in the small supply closet.
"Please" he breathed out, his voice strained and his eyes fixed on the ring in your hand. "Please, I- I want to be- nngah, I want it. I- I'll be good, I- aaahhhnn"
"Are you?" Logan asked, using the grip on Wade's hip to pull him closer against him. "Are you going to behave for us?"
After a series of jerky and rapid nods coming from the drooling mercenary trembling between you, "good fucking boy, there you go" your voice was low and syrupy, as you grabbed Wade's twitching hand and slowly —almost sensually— slipped the cold golden wand on his finger.
It looked as if he was going to combust just from having the ring on his finger, from the implications of having a wedding ring from a married couple on his finger.
Maybe you'd find an explanation for the creamy wet spot between Wade's legs and the way he was wearing your wedding ring when you meet the team in a few minutes.
Or maybe you won't, who knows.
going a bit off script on day 2 because i'm a HEATHEN anyway enjoy
Ship: Worst!Logan Howlett x f!Reader x Wade Wilson
Rating: 18+
Wordcount: 776
Warnings: cursing, smut, threesome, Wade Wilson is his own warning, unprotected PiV, anal (f!receiving), use of petnames, kissing, cocaine mention
Series: Leg's Tuna Tober
Your mind was fucking shattered.
Deep, guttural grunts rumbled from Logan beneath you with every deliberate thrust. Sharp canines scraped along your overheated skin. Whispers of "you're doing so good, baby" filtered from between his clenched teeth. His sweat-drenched skin was nearly sticking to yours due to your proximity. Barely a centimeter of space was left between the two of you.
It didn't help that Wade was on top of you, thrusting into you from behind, bearing his full weight on you as his hands fisted in the sheets. His wet tongue traced down your spine. Shivers erupted across your back in brutal waves.
"That's a good girl. Taking us so well. Isn't she, Wolvie?" Wade mused, voice muffled from where his lips connected with your skin. You gasped as a quick hitch in Wade's thrust nearly jostled Logan out of you.
"Watch it, red," Logan growled quietly. His large palms clung to your hips in near desperation. Gripping at your skin so tight you knew there'd be bruises in the morning. Not that you minded.
A light laugh rumbled against your back, "Feeling possessive, are we, Lo? Afraid I'll take our sunflower away from you?"
"Just shut up and fuck her, will you?" Logan said over your shoulder. He pressed a quick "sorry" behind your ear with a gentle kiss. You couldn't help the quiet moan that leaked from your throat.
"Let's make a game of it, shall we?" was all the warning Wade gave before he suddenly pulled out. You whined at how empty you now felt, craving both of them inside you every waking moment of your life. Wade ran a gentle hand down your back, "Shh, it's alright, angel cakes. I just wanna see if Lo-Lo's up to the task."
"The fuck is wrong with you, Wade?" Logan asked, propping himself up on his elbows to throw the merc a heavy glare. Now no one was focused on fucking you. You muttered obscenities under your breath as you buried your nose in Logan's shoulder. These two couldn't stop bickering for five minutes, let alone a whole night with just the three of you.
"I just wanted to challenge you, Mr.Not-a-Duke. Which of us do you think can make our sunbeam here come the fastest?" Wade offered with a cocky grin you could hear.
Logan scoffed, shaking his head, "I think you already know the answer to that."
"Yeah, and it'd be me," Wade returned.
"You must've taken some brain damage, because you know it'd be me," Logan bit back.
You groaned against Logan's neck, then nipped at the thin skin under his jaw, "Will someone please just fuck me?"
A shudder rolled over Logan's shoulders. He peered down at you through narrowed eyes. You could practically feel the seconds tick by as he remained still, just staring at you. Unease settled around your ribs. Logan was an impossible man to read, even at the best of times. When his pupils were blown, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, and his cock was inside you, it was even more difficult to gauge what he was thinking.
"Start a timer," he instructed Wade, gaze never leaving you. Arousal reignited in your abdomen like a stoked bonfire.
"Yes sir," Wade said with a wide smile. You heard rustling behind you as Wade grabbed one of the three phones on the nightstand.
The world spun without warning as you were flipped on your back. A gust of air shot from your lungs at the impact with the bed. Soft lips brushed along the skin under the hinge of your jaw.
"Go easy on me, huh? Wanna prove Wade wrong," Logan whispered in your ear. Flames licked at your skin, goosebumps rising in the wake of the Wolverine's gentle touch. Callused fingers grazed over you as light as feathers.
"I haven't started the timer yet, cheater! Any more unsportsmanlike behavior and I'll lock you out," Wade groused loudly. Logan breathed a chuckle along your collarbone.
"I'll just break the door down," he said as he threw you a wink. It took every bone in your body to keep your eyes from rolling back in your head.
"Break another door and Blind Al'll hide the cocaine again. When she hides shit, that stuff stays gone," Wade mumbled indignantly. Logan ignored the merc, fingers trailing ever-so slowly down your sensitive skin. A choked moan kicked out of your chest when Logan's thigh brushed against your swollen clit. Wade's wrinkled hand entered your periphery as he tapped on Logan's cheek, "Did you hear me, resident senior citizen? No cheating!"
I’m soooooo obsessed with your poolverine! Especially where Logan is fucking reader while Wade watches!
But what if Wade gets so desperate that he cums untouched just humping his rosey leaking cock into the air as he watches Logan fill you round after round
teehee thank you!! and this is so delish oh my goood <33 // cw: SMUT; afab!reader; poly with set power dynamics (dom logan, sub reader n sub wade); voyeurism; praise kink // divider by @/plutism
it’s—
it’s heinous, really, how wolve-fuckin’-rine could just go for hours fucking you, breeding you, while leaving wade leaking like a motherfucker. tearing up too, sure, but he’s still got his mask on so they can all pretend that he isn’t truly crying.
(he’s actually weeping but, well, semantics.)
it started the way it always does.
“stay there, bub,” logan sniped, his grin just a bite too mean, but wade didn’t even fight back because the three of you are used to this back-and-forth; of logan taking you like even after all these years, he still had to stake his claim, while wade was made to wait.
after all, this game is one of a hunt; it starts with wade waiting, raptly watching the way logan devours you, before being allowed the scraps—licking logan’s cum off your cunt, wade’s tongue pushing you to another shaking orgasm.
a hyena that is allowed to feast after the lion had its fill.
but it was different today—logan was more mean. he was more impatient to wade.
logan kept going; fucking his thick fingers in your cunt, crooning how he was doing this for your own good.
“shh, yer not ready for pups yet, darl,” he hummed, a heavy hand pressing down on your stomach to stop your thrashing; holding you down to force his thick fingers in, and scooping out his cum amidst the squelches of your cunt.
you keened, fisting the sheets as tears leaked out of your eyes, wetting your already-damp cheeks.
“s’too much!” you cried, unable to stop your hiccupping. “l’gan, please!”
but logan just nuzzled his maw on the inside of your thighs, puffing out breathy chuckles.
wade was straining then, his grip breaking the wooden arm rests. he ignored the splinters digging into his flesh, unable to do anything that wasn’t watching.
waiting.
he was slowly realizing that he would not have his turn today.
logan has you in a mating press now.
you’ve yelled so many times, warning logan—warning them—that you’re cumming but there was no gushing squirt nor trickling cum, and the two of them realize with hitched breaths that logan’s finally fucked you into dry orgasming.
it was a delicious sight, one that pushed wade to finally free his cock from inside his suit.
logan had shot him a gleeful look, his ravenous eyes tracking down the mess that wade has become—heaving chest, leaking cock, mask finally damp with his tears.
(you’ve glanced at your lover too, devouring how he looks, ever so patiently waiting even when he’s been denied for hours now.
wade always chirps. he’s always filled the silence with his chatter, but he’s been so, so quiet today. like he’s at a loss for words, unable to sound any more that isn’t ragged wheezes. like by staying quiet, he’s able to force himself to not jump you or to not touch his own cock.
fuck, what a good boy wade is.)
“almost, bub,” logan murmurs to wade, humping his cock in you like he’s affirming his own words. the action forces another choked moan out of you, and wade’s cock jumps, pre- dripping down his length.
logan tracks it throughout.
“yeah?” wade finally rasps out, his voice sounding so utterly broken. “y’fuckin’ swear?”
logan rolls his eyes at his words before huffing a fond laugh.
“swear on it,” logan replies, licking at his salty lips.
he pauses, turning his attention back to you. he ruts his cock in, nudging at the pudgy walls of your pussy with a pleasured hiss.
(you’re an unbelievable marvel, peanut. all soft and sweet.
all so delicious.)
amidst your high-pitched squeals, logan shoots wade another glance. he looks even more hungry now, and wade doesn’t get to ask his stuttered ‘what?’ when logan croons, “‘fore that, won’t y’cum for me, pool?”
wade’s body jumps to obey the order, only—
“but no touchin’ yerself.”
the whine wade lets out is so pathetic and broken, but it only makes logan smile wider, like he knows wade would be a good mutt and follow his command—
jesus. thinking about logan praising him just made him ultra-horny.
wade shuffles on his spot without a word, legs parting even wider to make it easier for himself. he’s so busy squirming at the feeling of the cool air wrapping around his cock that he’s missed you and logan changing positions on the bed—you’re riding logan now, your back to his chest, with logan’s chin hooked on your shoulder as the two of you watch wade.
wade curses underneath his breath when he finally looks up, and it tickles a giggle from you. it quickly peters into a high keen when logan fucks you up the length of his cock before dropping you down, using gravity to sit you snug and stuffed full.
fuck.
wade’s bitten moans spill into the hot space between the three of you, and he wonders: between you and wade, who is logan’s prize?
whose keening desperation is logan watching?
wade humps at nothing, unable to stop himself anymore. he times it with logan’s manhandling of your body—thrusting up when logan grasps at the back of your thighs to lift you up from his cock; then pressing back down on the couch when logan drops you back to engulf the entirety of his length.
wade’s not even embarrassed to admit that it doesn’t even take a while before his whole body is locking, pleasure and desperation mixing like a vice to grip at his body.
his orgasm builds—
“cum f’me, wade,” logan sings, sounding so utterly soft like he’s not in control of both you and wade’s pleasures, but wade has always been logan’s good boy. always been desperate for logan. always—
his orgasm rips him apart—that is the only way wade can explain it.
it wracks his body with unimaginable tremors, like wade’s body is undergoing its own earthquake. he nearly blacks out at the pleasure, and it should be embarrassing—it will be, later when logan’s cock is in his throat and your strap is fucking wade’s hold, and the two of you are murmuring how wade is your precious and desperate little cum slut—but right now, he basks in the pleasure and the pride shining in logan’s eyes.
jesus fuck. that was good.
biting a rock bcuz this one rlly had me sweating like mmmmy god
im so sorry if this is bad 😣 wrote this while walkin’ around the mall so it might be choppy n clipped in some parts GAH
Summary: You're stuck between your boyfriends in what seems to be the hottest night of the year.
Pairings: Logan Howlett x Wade Wilson x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 1.4K
Inspired by this post made by @dorkszn 💖
Warnings: implied sexual content, mentions of stabbing and biting, FLUFF ALL OVER
Part 2
It’s hot.
You don’t mean the usual, July kind of hot in New York when everything seems to melt like a neglected ice-cream cone. You also don’t mean yourself or your companions, even though they have a lot of hot qualities going on.
It’s the place that you’ve found yourself in, or, more accurately, a nest that one of your boyfriends insists on creating each night, no matter the high temperatures outside. With the AC unit barely working and a half-damaged fan, which was almost destroyed on purpose by Logan during one of his daily fights with Wade, tonight’s heat is unbearable.
And it’s not that you don’t like being warm. You’re more of a summer girl, enjoying extreme heat and the sun kissing your skin, your wardrobe full of dresses and skirts to catch a light breeze when outside, always the first one on a lounge chair to sunbathe and bask in the heavenly white heat of long, summer days. Your worst nightmare is deep winter, with agonizingly cold temperatures and activities like ice-skating or building a snowman, hands half-frozen and teeth clattering uncontrollably.
But tonight?
Tonight everything is too much, even for you. The heat is overwhelming and unpleasant, surrounding you from every possible angle.
The fan sounds as if it’s its last night on earth, definitely working overtime and below its paygrade. You can’t see Mary but her light snores fill the room accompanying Logan’s casual growling, deep and insistent in your ear. Wade is silent for once, his breath steadily brushing the skin of your upper arm and neck, the constant sleep talking temporarily simmered down.
It’s your usual sleep arrangement, Logan comfortably situated behind you, your naked back flush with his bare chest, his arms hooped around your belly and mid-section like a vine, his large hands on your waist, leaving you literally no space to move or escape without waking him up. Wade is glued to the front of your body, your legs tangled together like roots of a crazy tree, your head resting on his shoulder with your face hidden in the crook of his neck, and Wade’s other arm slung over you and Logan, to have you both within an arm’s reach.
Logan isn’t a fan of Wade stealing you all for himself, especially if he does it in that obnoxious, you won’t do shit about it, peanut way, which causes low, unamused grumbling on better days and scratching or outright stabbing Wade on not so good ones. It’s more of expressing difficult feelings through violence than real hatred but Logan wouldn’t be caught dead saying out loud that he secretly enjoys when Wade hugs you both the way he’s doing it now.
Sure, there are nights where Wade is the one to squish you from behind like a sponge but, most of the time, he prefers to be in front, chest to chest or tits to tits,if you were to quote the man himself, leaving your behind to Logan’s exclusive use. Too bad Wade ain’t ever really tits to tits, it’s more of his head resting on your shoulder or right between your cleavage, which dangerously overlaps with him drooling all over your breasts every other time. It isn’t that unpleasant but you fake-complain in the mornings when it happens, just to see Wade be slightly embarrassed for once. Your legs always end up entangled, little Mary resting somewhere in between the three of you.
And while having two private heaters is heavenly during the cold, winter months of the year, now it seems to be a not-so-funny joke. Both Wade and Logan love to sleep naked or with just one item of clothing on them, Wade sometimes choosing to sleep only in Logan’s t-shirt. Yes, it doesn’t cover anything, and on days like this you’re grateful that Al is actually blind. Sleeping naked isn’t a downside per se, but now it makes you feel oven-hot, the heat that radiates from everyone suddenly too overwhelming to enjoy it.
To make matters worse, you’re sticky. Sticky with multiple layers of sweat, droplets of it actively trickling down your side and back, your hair plastered all over your neck and forehead making you even hotter, especially with Logan’s beard buried in the crook of your neck. The place where Wade’s arm rests on yours is soaking wet, little beads of sweat running down to drip, drip, drip right onto your hip and sheets. On the top of it all, you’re sticky like that, too, a mixture of bodily fluids splashed all over your thighs, lower belly, and chest, a rather messy testament to your before-bedtime activities, which made you delirious with pleasure and forced you to fall asleep right after Logan’s hushed ‘night, princess.
You’re stuck.
You try to focus on falling back to sleep but it doesn’t work. There’s no way you’re not going to wake up Logan if you start moving but you can’t stay like that, feeling like a lobster being thrown into boiling water. The final straw is Mary, who changes her position mid-sleep and covers your feet with her little body, making your temperature skyrocket.
You grunt, wiggling carefully to free yourself of Logan’s arms. Wade is still asleep when he slightly turns away from you both, leaving you a bit shocked that he dressed into his Hello Kitty boxers for once.
You’re in the middle of sliding down Logan’s chest, his arms level with your tits, when Logan’s hoarse voice makes you stop all your abrupt movements.
“What is it that you’re doing, bub?”
Fuck.
“It’s too hot in here. I need out,” you whisper quickly, your hands coming to rest on his huge arms. You’d think he’d let you go but it’s not that easy. Logan slightly loosens his grip on you, only to slide you back up and hide his face in your sweaty hair. You manage to twist your body towards his face. “I’m serious, Lo. I need a cold shower, right now.”
The urgency in your tone gets his attention. He lets you go with an unhappy growl that makes Mary perk up.
“Want me to go wit’ ya?”
You kiss him on the lips, just a little peck but that seems to do the trick.
“No, I’ll be quick. Sorry about waking you up.”
His only answer is another low growl but the crease between Logan’s brows straightens, then completely disappears, right when you’re kissing Wade’s sweaty forehead.
Your visit to the bathroom is quick but Mary follows you anyway. She sits right in front of the shower curtain, yawning a total of six times before you finish showering. The water is cold on your skin, a bit of a shock after being surrounded with extreme warmth, all stickiness and hotness going down the drain in a matter of minutes. Dry and ready to go, you pick the dog up with one hand, placing her under your left arm.
“Look at you, standing guard and all,” you whisper words of praise as you go back into your small, stuffy room, Mary wagging her tail happily.
Ten minutes are enough for Wade to force himself into Logan’s personal space, now that you’re not their buffer. His hello kitty cladded hips are perfectly aligned with Logan’s naked ones, his hand fondling Logan’s tits, his face halfway in Logan’s hair.
“Come quick, baby girl, and save me,” squeaks Wade when you put Mary down on the edge of the bed. That’s when you see it, Logan’s teeth buried in Wade’s arm, the same one which Wade used to feel Logan up. It’s nothing serious if there’s no blood, so you lie down in between them, forcing Logan to let go of Wade’s flesh.
“Gods’sake, behave, both of you.”
You put your head on Wade’s chest, finding your way back into a comfortable position, Logan’s hands immediately on your hips. Wade makes a big stretch, “accidentally” extending his arm to embrace you both.
“Thought he’d bite it off but I’m safe when you’re here.”
Logan buries his nose in your neck, growling lowly behind your ear, probably something about slicing Wade’s arm off, but it’s too incoherent to know for sure. He doesn’t move away from Wade’s embrace, though, which is enough for you to smile happily, watching as Mary finds her spot in between Logan’s feet.
