caviar and cigarettes, well versed in etiquette
patch logan/wolverine x m!reader
18+ only
cw : smut, cigar, drinking, beard burn, fingering, kissing, praise, aftercare, breeding, hotel sex, daddy kink, finger in mouth, frotting, switch logan
wc : 4,1k
Written of course with Patch Logan in mind, the reader is male ad young, the age is up to you.
big thanks to @nymphomatique for proofing my work
twitter acc : @yacinehowlett
Patch’s sensitive senses were going into overdrive as he stepped in his casino. The blinding lights, the sound of slot machines and crowded chatters, and the heavy scent of alcohol, sweat and sin lingering in the air. The sounds of soft jazz music playing through the halls. The main room is tall and grand, with sparkling chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. He drops his car keys to the young valet at the entrance and makes his way to the giant bar in the middle of the building and sits on one of the high chairs surrounding the counter in a circle. It’s still fairly early in the evening so the lounge is not that crowded yet, even for a Saturday night. Patch shifts in his seat, which creaks under the weight of the solid metal infused to the skeletal system in his body and signals for the barista on shift.
Patch likes to come here before he starts playing, to give a little time for his senses to get used to the atmosphere of the casino and to get a little buzz in his metabolism to get ready for gambling. The bartender in charge for the night, Dave, who is used to him by now, finishes cleaning the glass cup he was holding and makes his way to the suited mutant.
“The usual?” he inquires with a raised eyebrow, and with a nod he quickly brings a neat whiskey, a single cube of ice adorning the cup and settles it in front of you as you light one of your cigars and start smoking.
A couple of drinks later, he can feel himself slowly going tipsy, and that’s when he notices you. You were with a couple friends, on the other side of the bar but your delicious and distinctive smell prickled his nose before Patch could even lay his eyes on your body.
You looked even more delectable than you smelled, sitting cross-legged on the chair, with a soft smile on your lips as you were sharing laughs with your friends. His heightened hearing had a hard time making out what you were saying, but the sound of your giggle did things to him that threatened his inner Wolverine to come out, and he smiled when he noticed the small little rainbow pin on your shirt.
Though he was here often, he was sure he had never seen you before. His memory sometimes failed him after more than 200 years alive, but Patch would have remembered a young pretty little thing like you.
One of your mates was giving Patch a puzzled look, and that’s when he realized that he had inadvertently been staring for a minute. Quickly regaining his composure, he called for Dave.
“Give him another one of whatever he’s drinking, put it on my tab. And give him this”, he reached for his inside pocket, and pulled out a business card to hand it to the bartender.
Patch then promptly left the bar and made his way to a roulette table, hoping he didn’t embarrass himself too much and instead tried to concentrate on the game. The casino he co-owned is supposed to be a safe space, and it just wouldn’t do if rumors started going around that shady old men were creeping on young patrons here. Patch worked hard to make this establishment as elegant and classy as possible, and he wasn’t about to be the one to damage its reputation.
As he continued to swindle loaded people of their money in roulette, he kept stealing glances at you throughout his game. Luck based games always favored the dauntless and the daring. After a particularly fruitful round, Patch turned his attention back to the bar.
You were still there, but your friends had left you, but you attracted the obviously unwanted attention of an older looking guy sitting next to you, scooting a little close to his liking.
“Put this in my earnings, I'm tapping out for now,” Patch said to the table’s dealer, pushing his stack of chips towards him before getting up and making his way to you.
Patch angrily tapped the other guy’s shoulder, and he turned around and eyed the eyepatch with a confused expression, assessing the mutant with a scan of his eyes.
“Can’t you see I'm busy?” said the creep, voice dripping in annoyance.
“Seat’s taken, get lost bub,” Patch replied in a stern voice
The unnamed asshole got up and puffed his chest, clearly getting ready for an altercation.
Still high on the adrenaline of gambling, Patch felt confident enough and popped out a single claw to his face, his pissed face shining on the reflection of the adamantium adorned bone.
“You don’t wanna fuck around and find out. Get the hell out of my sight, you’re not welcome here anymore,” shot the Wolverine, his angry stare visible on his one non-covered eye.
The creepy old guy quickly scrambled out of the casino, and Patch was quick to take his seat, gesturing to Dave to get another round of drinks.
“Your friends shouldn’t have left you,” Patch stated to you in a softer voice.
“But then I wouldn’t have my knight in white armor coming to my rescue,” you replied in a flirtatious tone. “The whole point was to lure you back to the bar but the dickhead here beat you to it.”
“I think you’ve had enough attention from older men for one night bub,” Patch tried not to encourage your flirting, not wanting to scare you further for the day.
“Only when it’s unwelcome,” you hum. You take out the business card Patch gave you earlier, playing with it deftly between your fingers. “What kind of business card doesn’t even have a name written on it? I got a little idea about your secret identity from the metal display earlier, but you should really work on your disguise, handsome. How many hairy mutants with claws coming out of their fists do you think there are anyway?”
Your words earned a small chuckle out of Patch, as he took another sip of whiskey. “Madripoor’s dangerous, and I’m supposed to be undercover. ‘Preciate the discretion.”
You took another look at his attire, Patch’s neat ironed shirt covered by an expensive-looking white cream suit, and the eyepatch covering his left eye gave him a mob boss look, in a dangerous but nonetheless super hot vibe.
“You could have fooled me, couldn’t even tell you were gay,” you admitted
“I don’t tether myself to liking one gender or another, I don't mind either,” Patch confessed to you, the corner of his lips pulling up in a slight smirk. “Been seeing both men and women since before your grandparent’s time, bub.”
“I’m guessing Logan is off the table at the moment, so what should I call you when my mouth’s not busy tonight?” you said in a flirtatious tone
The unexpected retort almost made Patch choke on his own drink “Jesus, you don’t mince your words huh?”
He gestured for the business card he had given you early, still twiddling between your fingers and you give it to him with a quirked brow. He reaches over the counter to take a pen, and scribbles in neat handwriting ‘Patch, private suite, top floor’. “I’m going to meet an investor at a table in a minute, meet me here in two hours.”
Patch leaned into you, seductively put the card back into your breast pocket and brought his mouth to your ear, his facial hair pleasantly scratching your cheek. “I’m in the casino hotel. It’s the only room on the floor, can’t miss it.”
“A bit presumptuous of you to assume I even want to come, no?” you tried to say in your regular voice, although you felt your body betray you as it began heating up at a very intensely and very quickly from the close body contact.
“Heartbeat’s saying different. And I'm still not hearing a no,” Patch replied, and gave you a small kiss on the cheek before pulling back and leaving to head to the blackjack table, hoping the tent in his pants was not that visible.
He did not do well in blackjack, thinking about you all throughout the game, and the potential investor was obviously not expecting to find the notorious Patch in a good mood. Wrapping things up before he could embarrass himself further, he made his way back to his room with thirty minutes to spare.
Patch’s mind was going a thousand miles per hour, wondering if he should prepare himself before you get here. He didn’t mind bottoming, but he didn’t even ask you which way you liked it, and before he could spiral any further, he heard your footsteps coming up the hallway, your smell already filling up his nostrils. Before you could even knock on his door, Patch opened it and pulled you inside, earning a surprised yelp from you.
He closed the door and manhandled you against it, pulling you up to match his height and closing the distance between your mouths, letting your tongues dance around one another. The kisses were filthy and loud. Patch, being an even better kisser than you thought he was, started pushing his tongue even harder against your cheek.
The tent in both of your pants was starting to show, and your dick was starting to ache after a few minutes of making out. Patch pulled his mouth away from yours, leaving you hard and panting, gasping for air. “I feel this is a good time to tell you I like it both ways.”
You hadn’t focused on his words at all, looking utterly fucked out and too busy pawing at his chest to concentrate on what he said. Patch grabbed your hand to stop you for a second and repeated his inquiry “I’m asking you how do you want me darling?” The charisma oozing from his voice only hardened you further.
“In whatever way I can have you, daddy” you said as you left his mouth to attack his neck, breathing in his musk and making it your mission to try and leave a bite that won’t heal in seconds.
It took all of Patch’s inner strength not to throw you on the bed and fuck you dry, your pretty little voice saturating his senses, but the two of you bounced from one corner to the other while looking for the bed, still enraptured in a bruising kiss as he began shedding your clothes and knocking things over in your way, breaking the kiss only when he put you down.
Finally finding the mattress after your stampede, you crawled on top of him and were now attacking his mouth again with renewed vigor. Patch slipped his tongue inside you again and shed his underwear, his last piece of clothing except for the black bowtie and the eyepatch that you insisted he left on, and he was too horny to ask why.
Patch started grinding his cock against yours, eliciting pretty little moans from you that he sucked out and tried to reach for the lube that he knew was on his nightstand somewhere but couldn’t figure out exactly where, knocking over half the stuff scattered on his bedside table. It wasn’t long before he grabbed something that looked like a bottle,put it in your hands and spread his legs further.
The mutant prompted himself on his two elbows and brought a hand to his throbbing cock, slowly pumping it up and down to relieve some of the ache. You poured some of the lubricant over his hole and slowly slipped a finger inside, trying to work him open. Before Patch could even start to moan, you removed his hands from his dick and brought your lips to it, taking only the tip in and rubbing your tongue on it in circles. Patch was going crazy as you kept pushing your index in and out of him, letting out manly huffs and groans, even slipping in some good boy’s here and there between breathy and uneven moans.
A second finger was then added, and before you could add a third he pulled you off of him “Look I appreciate the enthusiasm but there’s no point in prepping me too much, I’ll just regenerate, I’ll just come from your tongue alone at this rate darling,” said the older man, his hairy chest heaving up and down looking for air. Patch brought one last peck to your lips and let you get back to work. With a nod, you slicked your cock once more and grabbed him by the bowtie, biting his neck almost hard enough to draw blood, and thrusting into him in one full stroke before going still for a moment.
You cooed over him, slowly licked over the small bite mark that was slowly healing and rubbed his cheek with the palm of your hand to make sure he was okay before you started truly fucking him. “Tell me if it gets too much, yeah?” Patch looked too fucked out to answer but did manage to give you a nod. Trusting him to not get too cock drunk to tell you if he gets uncomfortable, you slowly started to give small little thrusts to give his insides some time to get used to your size, but my god was he tight. Someone with a regenerative healing factor should not be allowed to bottom.
Running your dick in and out of him, his tight walls holding you inside like they would die without you, while Patch gives you some louder groans and holds one of your arms, bringing your hand to his mouth and slipping two of your fingers inside it, sucking them in a blowjob-like manner.
You felt your orgasm slowly creeping up and tried to stop, giving more attention to his cock with your other hand, but your Wolverine was not having it, and kept bucking his hips. “Shit Patchie, slow down. I’m going to-” he cut you off “I know baby me too, don’t you dare pull out.” And that breathy admission of lust was all it took for you to reach your peak, no longer able to hold on to your orgasm. With one hard final thrust, you bury yourself and empty your load deep inside him, groaning at your release.
The sight of your blissed out face pushed Patch over the edge as well, and he pumped his cock once, twice, and then he was gone too, letting out a strangled groan as he shot ropes and ropes of sticky pearlescent cum on his chest.
You stayed inside him for a minute while you both caught your breath, and gave him slow pets on his face, trying to get your Patch back to Earth. He seemed to return to you, his one uncovered eye gently looking at you, motioning you to untangle yourself on him and the sight of your seed trickling out of him was almost enough to harden you again.
You lowered your gaze and saw that his cock had yet to soften, dick still throbbing and hard. Of course the Wolverine would have ridiculous stamina. You scooted over to his side and he gave you a few moments of respite to catch your breath. Getting ready to leave the bed to clean him up, he groaned and pulled you back against him, grinding his throbbing cock against your side, clearly eager for round two.
Patch, nuzzling your neck, breathing in your scent to tether himself back to you, brought his hand to your still sensitive dick, in an attempt to get it back to life and whispered in your ear “My turn? Promise I'll make you feel good baby,” he gently asks you, waiting for permission to take it further.
“I don’t know how you’re going to fit that monster inside of me, I- I’ve never had that big…” you confessed, feeling rather shy in front of him now that the roles were reversed. “Daddy will make it work, don’t you worry,” he cooed against your sweat-glazed skin, tapping on the mattress next to him in a motion that was gentle but leaving no room for debate, gesturing you to get on all fours.
Patch laid his weight on his knees, and laid his eyes on you, laid out on all fours, all spread out for him and him only. The older man brought a hand through your soft hair, and the other to your chin to lift it up and tilt your head back so you could look him in the eye. His gaze was dark and intense. “You don’t have to take all of it, I'll just be happy with you doing your best, okay?” he said in a soft but firm tone.
You nodded quickly, and eagerly tried to wrap your lips around him, but he pulled it away.
“I need words baby,” said the mutant sternly.
“Yes, daddy,” you replied in a half-eager half-whine tone.
“Good boy,” and with that, you quickly tried to wrap as much as you could of your lips around him before you realized just how big and girthy he truly is. But still, you’re rather tipsy, and still very much horny, so the remnants of the alcohol buzzing in your system serves as encouragement, fueling your overwhelming want to please him, to serve him wholly, so you give it your best shot.
Your lips come back down to his cock and envelope a little bit beyond the tip, and you wrap your hand around what you can’t fit, jerking him up and down slowly. Patch runs his fingers in your hair once more, as if to anchor himself as much as anchor you, and sucks in a breath. As much as the older man would like to deny it, he very much cherishes the affection he both receives and gives.
You focus on your senses of smell and taste. Patch is so undeniably masculine, and the scent of his musk making you relax further. You open your eyes to look up at him, and God does the sight of him looking down at you, hairy chest heaving with intense breathing, only serve to arouse you more.
Patch bucks his hips forward instinctively and your sputter heaps of spit down the length of his cock, it’s all you can do to stop yourself from gagging on it. “Alright, off. Turn around darling, I'm going to prepare you,” he orders.
Patch found himself scrambling for the bottle of lube that got lost somewhere in the wave of bed sheets, finding that by the time he recovered it you had already turned around, and bucked your ass up to him.
Though his dick was not receiving any more attention at the moment, this sight was not making it any easier for him to soften. Applying a generous amount on both his fingers and your hole, he rubbed your butt in a gentle manner. “I’m going to get started. You just relax and enjoy it for me. Remember to breathe baby, yeah?”
He slowly pushed a finger inside, and make quick work of spreading you open, eager to feel you clench around him. Patch’s fingers are thick, so he does so with a little bit of care but you otherwise take it like a champ, Patch muttering soft little praises in your ear as you let out the sweetest moans he’s ever heard. Once a few fingers are able to enter you at the same time, he quickly turns you around and flips you on your back and props a pillow under your hips for better angling and comfort. Sue him for feeling sentimental, he wants to see your face when he’s inside you.
Patch grabs your hips and angles the head of his cock against you, and applies more lube just in case. He lowers his chest down and brings a hand to your cheek caressing it softly. “Two taps on my arm if it gets too much and I'll stop, no questions asked,” he cooed to you in a protective tone, “But you can take it baby, I know you can,” he says as he brings both hands to your hips, and finally drives in you.
The prepping really did its work, and he’s about halfway in before his cock meets any natural resistance. But the pressure is immense, Patch’s grunts and his sheer size are enough to make you lightheaded, and he forces himself just a bit further, reminding you to relax yourself and breathe. Another inch, then another, and another until he’s fully bottomed out and he takes a small pause to let his tip rest against your prostate and let you get used to his size. You’re heaving and gasping, but still refuse to tap out. Patch finds your mouth cruelly bored and leans down to bring his lips to yours in a filthy kiss. You slowly manage to get more comfortable and with your tongue busy, you gesture for him to resume with a squeeze of his biceps, your own cock throbbing with need and leaking precum all over your stomach.
Patch pulls back, and pushes in once more, easing his way back in with more shallow thrusts. You push your hips back against his to meet them and run your hands all over his back, nails scratching him just as pleasantly as his beard scratches your face. The older man pushes deeper and deeper with each new thrust, and doesn’t stop until he reaches a comfortable pace. You open your eyes to take a look at him again. His hair and forehead are dampened with sweat. He doesn’t want to come too fast but you’re gripping his cock so fast he has no choice but to chase his orgasm and work yours out of you, so he frees one of his hand to pump your cock, hoping his overstimulated senses are not failing him and that you are indeed not far behind him.
It is with a storm of slurred shits and fucks among other profanities, and a couple more thrusts that you come, your dick pressed against his stomach as you cover yourselves both in your slick.
The sound of your strangled moans push him over the edge as well, and he thrusts in as deep as he can before biting your neck hard, before painting your walls with his scent.
Not wanting to crush you with 400 pounds of adamantium, he takes care to collapse next to you and pull close to him, your scent mingled with his pleasantly satisfying him.
Patch presses clumsy alcohol-laced kisses to you, and hugs you more tightly rubbing the lower side of your back gently. “Should we take a shower? We’re both filthy,” you inquire after catching your breath. “No. Like you that way,” the mutant retorts, not wanting you to leave the safety of his arms, and appreciating the scent of you dripping full of his essence.
You both fall asleep quickly, too fucked out and exhausted to do anything more.
A year later —
After that first night, you had started frequenting the casino more and more for Patch, obviously seeking him out for conversation and not only to fuck.
He had become a little protective of you, and though you refused any money he ever wanted to give you, telling Patch he wasn’t your “sugar daddy”, a term he was rather confused hearing the first time you had brought it up in conversation, he had started treating you like a boyfriend soon into your relationship.
It was hard for the older man to try and be respectful of your personal space and not let his overprotectiveness show, the need to care for you slowly growing stronger by the day. Furthermore, although he had experience with both men and women, he had only ever truly gotten serious with the feminine side. Sharing more than a measly hookup with a man wasn’t always welcome nor even legal in his lifetime, but he had decided solemnly that if there’s anyone he wants to navigate it with, it’s with you.
His mission in Madripoor was coming to an end, and he was going back to New York to resume his Wolverine duties, leaving Patch in this city behind him. It took more than one argument to convince you to join him, only truly accepting after you accidentally found a ring one night over at his place. There was nothing he wanted to take from this filthy city back home with him except you.
Standing in front of the mirror, holding the eyepatch in his hand and zoning out, you came over to him, gave him a little peck on the lips and took it from his hands before he could even react. “Saving this for bedroom purposes. Get dressed, the plane is leaving in three hours.”
Logan took a long look at himself, and smiled.
Maybe Patch doesn’t need to be buried after all.