Bro Is Not Slick

SEBASTIAN STAN as BUCKY BARNES THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER (2021)

— come on and show me

[part ii | part iii | masterlist]

logan howlett x f!reader x wade wilson

rated e - 5.5k

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 your 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 happy to be dipping my toes into these pairings💖

Housewife situation fem!reader with abby anderson???? Fluff and smut or whtv you want!! <3

Ok here's the thing, I love love love Abby Anderson. Like I have an enormous crush on her okay. And I just—THE BRAINROT IS REAL. And picturing a whole housewife scenario with her??? This just makes me want to marry her ONG 😩😩😩😩😩😩

-----

Abby always wakes up early since she's got the morning patrol. She'll be out of bed before the sun rises, and she'll pepper your face with kisses as she leaves.

You grab her by the wrist, the hem of her shirt, her hand—whatever you can reach of her in your half-dozed state.

“Stay,” you beg, pulling her towards you, and she sits on the bed beside you. “Please. Just five more minutes.”

“You know I can't, baby,” she tells you, brushing your messy hair off your face. “I'll be late to work.”

“Please,” you insist, cuddling into her lap, her thighs strong beneath her khakis.

She sighs gently and caves. “Five more minutes,” she agrees, holding you, caressing your face. She loves how you look so pleased that she's staying five minutes more beside you. Sometimes, she can't understand how she managed to get someone like you to love her. It amazes her as much as it thrills her.

When the five minutes are over, she presses kisses to your forehead as she says her goodbyes, and you watch her go with half-lidded eyes.

You get out of bed a few hours later, when the sun is bright and shining through the thin curtains. You change out of your pajamas into a pair of small shorts and one of Abby's t-shirts that smells like her, and get to your chores.

You make yourself breakfast and clean your plates, you sweep the kitchen, the living room, the bedroom, the bathroom, and the hall. You dance and sing on your own with a few songs that play on the radio, and you think about Abby.

You make the bed, organize the pillows, fold your pajamas and Abby's. As you're working and singing, your eyes fall on the pretty pink box of yours that Abby stashed under the bed.

Your pussy clenches at the knowledge of what's in there, and, even though you shouldn't—you still have chores to do and no time to waste—you slide the box out from under the bed and open it.

Inside: a tube of lube, a rabbit vibrator, a few bullet vibrators, handcuffs, and a stack of Polaroids that you're quickly reaching for. You realize that Abby's strap on isn't here, which only riles you up more because it means she's wearing it to work.

You climb on the bed, eyes scanning over the pictures. There you are, all teary-eyed and swollen lips as you suck on Abby's cock. Another picture of you with your thighs spread, your slick dripping down to the bed, your thighs covered in hickeys. A third one reveals your breasts, littered in bite marks and hickeys, Abby's mouth in the picture as she sucks your nipple. Another one, you on all fours while Abby fucks you from behind, the strap on coated in your slick, your ass red from where Abby's rough hands have been gripping it.

You can feel your pussy throbbing, your arousal pooling onto your panties. You lay back against the pillows, one hand rubbing your pussy over your shorts while you continue studying the pictures.

Abby fucking you from behind, both of you standing as she forces you to watch yourself in a mirror, the flash a bright white against the edge of the mirror. A picture you took, Abby's gorgeous blue eyes looking right into the lens from between your thighs, your pussy raw, Abby's mouth and chin covered in your slick as she eats you out.

You push your shorts to the side, along with your panties, and run your fingers over your dripping folds. A soft breath leaves your lips as you brush soft circles on your clit.

Another Polaroid shows you on top of Abby, your head thrown back, your chest on display as you ride her.

You pinch your clit, placing the Polaroids on the bed beside you, focusing on your fingers on your cunt and wishing it was Abby touching you.

Unbeknownst to you, Abby has taken advantage of the fact that it's Friday, and she's managed to get someone to replace her afternoon shift. By midday, she's making her way back home. Back to you.

The radio is on, some late 80s jam playing loud enough for Abby to hear the music through the door as she fetches her keys out of her pocket.

She unlocks the door and walks in, shutting it after herself. She walks down the hall, making her way toward the kitchen in search of you when she hears you gasping in the bedroom.

Somewhat alarmed, Abby rushes towards the bedroom, swinging the ajar door open and saying, “Baby?” only to find you on the bed, all spread out, soaked shorts and panties pushed to the side while you fuck yourself.

You jump when you see Abby, quickly removing your fingers from your cunt. “Bee!” you say, shocked, as you sit up, trying to recover your breath.

Her blue eyes study the bed, the Polaroids you were using to get off, the pink box full of your sex toys, and she's quick to do the math.

She raises an eyebrow. “Do you always touch yourself when I'm not home?”

You swallow, cheeks warming with a blush, and shake your head. “No, I-I was going to get started on lunch, I just—You're home early,” you stutter out.

“Lunch, you say?” She grins, ignoring your comment as she makes her way toward the bed, discarding her jacket and her halter on the ground. “That sounds real good right about now. I'm fuckin' starving.”

You watch as she climbs on the bed, crawling towards you, and she places her hands on your hips. With a quick, swift movement, she pulls your shorts and your panties off, and tosses them aside.

You gasp softly as she leans down, placing her mouth to one of your thighs, then the other, before licking over your folds.

You shudder, laying back down against the pillows, your nails digging into the bed sheets. “Bee,” you mewl lowly. “Please, I've needed you so bad.”

Abby smirks before she presses her face into your pussy, her nose against your clit, her mouth sucking at your folds before her tongue slides into you.

You reach for her head, fingers eagerly tugging at her braid until you manage to pull it loose. Her blond locks fall over her shoulders, and you tangle your fingers in them, hips rutting up to meet her face.

“Abs,” you whine, legs trembling around her head. She lifts your thighs and wedges her broad shoulders between them, placing your legs to rest on her shoulders.

She drags her teeth over your clit, making you shudder, and she smirks. She loves how sensitive you are when she touches you, how you get soaked with only a few licks. You're so easy for her, and she loves it.

“Please,” you gasp, back arching off the bed, your eyes fluttering shut. Your fingers drag through Abby's thick hair, pulling her closer, your cunt raw and throbbing against her tongue.

She groans into you, making you mewl, and she can feel her own pussy growing wet, soaking the strap on she wore. She enjoys having eight inches of pink silicone between her thighs, imagining you on it, impatient to get home and stuff it inside you.

“Fuck me,” you beg, trying to pull her away from between your thighs. “I need you inside, Abs. Please.”

“Not yet,” she says, her voice reverberating through you. “I want you t'come f'r me first.”

You groan, mewling. “Okay, okay,” you agree. “Mmphf! 's so good!”

Your body is trembling, your pleasure coiling in your womb and threatening to snap. Your eyes are rolling into the back of your head, your nails digging into her scalp.

“Abby! Please, fuck!” you cry out. She can tell you're close, both by the hitch in your voice and the way your slick gushes out of you.

She nuzzles her face against your pussy, sending you whirling over the edge. You mewl, “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Abby—Oh, God!”

And then your orgasm crashes over you, making your thighs shake, your thighs squeezing her head. She laps up your orgasm, drinking every last drop, enjoying your sweet sent and your taste.

As she pulls away from you, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, you reach for her. You grab onto her shirt, making her crawl over you, and she cages your body beneath hers.

Her mouth finds your lips with ease, sneaking her tongue between them, allowing you to taste yourself. You wrap your hands around her neck, threading your fingers into her hair.

She pulls away from the kiss to push her pants and boxers down, low enough for the silicone cock to spring free. You spread your legs wider, eager, and she smiles before caging you under her once more.

She guides the dildo between your folds, teasing your entrance for a moment before sliding into you. You gasp, wrapping your legs around her waist and forcing her deeper until her hips meet yours.

“Fuck,” Abby hisses out as you buck your hips up, causing the strap on to rub against her swollen clit.

“Abs, please,” you beg, grating your hips in search of more friction. “Please.”

Abby has had something on her mind for a while now. Something she wants to propose to you but is a little shy to admit. Yet, she takes her chance now, and asks, “You think you can call me something else, love? Give me a pretty nickname when I fuck you?”

Your eyes meet hers, the blue darkened by her lust, pupils blown wide. “Okay,” you breathe, trembling.

“Call me Mommy, hm? Let's see how that sounds from your pretty lips.”

You're surprised at first, your eyes wide before they quickly glow with delight, excitement coursing through you. Your pussy clenches around the dildo, your heart racing.

“Mommy,” you say softly. “Mommy, fuck me. Please.”

Abby groans, heat rushing to her core at your words. “Fuck, baby. Such a good girl, goddamn.”

“I missed you,” you admit, dizzy with pleasure, drunk on the feel of Abby's body on top of yours. “I always miss you when you leave.”

She places a soft kiss on your forehead as she begins thrusting into you, making you gasp. “I miss you, too,” she tells you. “All the time. I wish I could take you to patrol with me, but it's dangerous work. I'd rather you stay here, safe.”

You mewl, nails digging into her back. “You could stay here with me,” you suggest, voice wavering as the pleasure runs through your veins, making you tremble. “We could be together all day.”

Abby smiles softly. “You know I can't, honey. It's my job,” she says, gasping softly as the strap on adds more pressure against her clit.

“I know,” you reply. “I know. I just need you so much.”

She presses a kiss against your mouth, feeling your gummy walls tighten around the strap on. You mewl, eyes rolling back into your head, and Abby swallows the sound.

“I need you too, love,” she tells you. “I always need you.”

Her hips slam against yours, the bed squeaking beneath you, the headboard crashing into the wall.

“Mommy!” you cry, trying to pull her closer. “Please. Please.”

“Yeah, I'll make you come, baby,” she promises, breathless from the pleasure. “Don't you worry about that.”

You nod, shaking, the pleasure crawling through your veins and igniting your skin. “Fuck! Fuck! Mommy, 'm so close!”

She increases her pace, bruising your cervix, the dildo dragging against your g-spot. “Come on, my angel. I know you can do it,” she encourages. “Come on my cock, yeah? Be a good girl f'r me, baby.”

She licks your jaw, lowering her mouth to your neck. She bites on the delicate skin of your throat, her hips bruising yours, and she can feel how you scratch her back through her shirt.

Your cunt clenches around the strap on, making it harder for her to thrust in and out of you, and then you're hurling over the edge. You gasp and moan, body trembling uncontrollably, your pussy dripping onto the bed.

“Atta girl,” Abby says, burying her face in your shoulder as she feels her own orgasm nearing. Her clit aches beneath the rubs of the strap on, begging for release. She grinds her hips onto yours, making you mewl, and she's getting herself off at the same time.

When you buck your hips up, meeting hers, it drives her to a frenzy and pushes her over the edge.

“Fuck! Goddamn,” she moans, biting your shoulder through the thin material of the t-shirt you're wearing as she comes, her broad figure trembling. She rests the weight of her body on you as she tries to catch her breath. She places her head on your chest, hearing your racing heart, and you run your fingers through her tangled hair, caressing her head gently.

“I love you,” you tell her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “So much, Abby.”

“I love you,” she replies, kissing your neck. “You're everything to me, angel. What would I do without you?”

You smile. “Come back to a messy house?” you joke.

She shakes her head, pushing herself up so she's not crushing you under her weight, and she kisses your lips. “You know that's not what I mean,” she says, the words falling right against your mouth. “Without you, I'd be empty, love. All alone, without anyone to understand me, without anyone to love me.”

You wrap your arms around her neck, giving her mouth a peck. “I'll always be with you, Abs. I'll always love you. You know there's no one else out there that can even come close to comparing to you. You're it for me, Abby.”

She kisses your chin, the corner of your mouth, and then your lips. It's a soft, slow kiss, gentle and loving. It makes you happy, a bubbly sensation bursting in your chest.

“How come you're home early?” you question as she pulls away to press a trail of open mouthed, wet kisses down your neck.

“I wanted to be with you,” she says. “I felt guilty this morning when I left. I haven't spent as much time with you lately, with the Fireflies needing more people to patrol, and me too willing to help. I-I haven't given you the time or attention you deserve, and I'm sorry for that.”

You kiss her again, softly. “You're here now, Abs. That's all that matters.”

She pulls out of you and you're left sore, aching in the best way, and then Abby's cleaning you.

She helps you into a pair of new panties and shorts, and then you make your way to the kitchen. As you cook, Abby helps you, chopping vegetables, finding the seasoning, setting the table—anything she can.

You stand in front of the stove, stirring the food, and Abby hugs you from behind, placing her head on your shoulder, humming in your ear.

She raises the volume of the radio and grabs your hand, pulling you toward her, and she leads you around the kitchen, dancing. You laugh, delighted, having missed her so much. This past week she's been particularly busy, leaving early and returning late, with barely any time to spend together.

Abby watches the joy on your face and her heart melts, feeling so fucking lucky. She makes you this happy, and that just makes her dizzy with awe.

How did she get you to love her?

You have lunch, and then you cuddle on the bed and Abby tells you all about her day and she just releases all the stress she has pent up. You two take a small nap, with you in her arms and one of her legs around you, and wake up a while later.

You make popcorn, Abby chooses a movie, and then you pretend to watch it while mostly talking to each other.

It gets late quick and you grow tired. Abby pulls you to her, allowing you to rest your head on her chest, and you're quick to fall asleep. Abby kisses the top of your head, inhaling your scent, and she promises herself that she will spend more time with you. Nothing matters if she's not with you.

-----

@kamcrazy123 @yagirlheree @sweetllamaparadise @neytirishottie @crazy4books1

Should I tag you in works about other fandoms as well??? Please tell me so I don't tag you in works that aren't your type!

-----

Blog masterlist

MORE WADE AND LOGAN PLSSSSS CAN WE GET THEM (POLY) DATING A SHORT READER HCS??? TYYYY

Short! S/O - Logan Howlett & Wade Wilson

Pairing: Logan Howlett x short! gn! reader x Wade Wilson

Genre: fluff

CW: poly relationship, teasing, short jokes, Logan picks us up, protective boys, size diff

| Ryan Reynolds & Hugh Jackman are both 6’2 so I am gonna go off of that (i know Logan is short in the comics but just let me dream pls :,) |

YES YES OF COURSE!!! there’s almost nothing I love more than writing a short/small reader cause I myself am not short :,) but it’s nice to pretend. god both of them are so tall I just wanna stand between them & feel safe ^^ thank you so much for the req!!

they’re such bullies i’m so sorry

expect a TON of short jokes (mostly Wade) 

and expect them to parry anything you say with “you’re short” (mostly Logan)

you will always be their arm rest, you have no say in it

standing in line? Logan’s leaning his arm on your shoulder. 

at a party? Wade’s propping himself up on the top of your head 

Logan LOVES how short you are too and manhandles you at any opportunity 

if you’re being a brat, he won’t hesitate to remind you that he is bigger than you

whether that’s him throwing you over his shoulder or just standing real close to you so you can see the height difference up close & personal 

as soon as Wade sees Logan in, he can’t help himself—he’ll slide up on your other side and smush you between the two of them 

they’re such teases they’ll talk about you like you’re not completely stuck between them

“nice weather we’re having, hey?”

“oh yeah, real nice bub”

they’ll keep chatting until you’re whining and pushing against them to just get out 

Wade LOVES putting things on shelves too high for you to reach just so he can watch you struggle 

and Logan the absolute menace will lean against the wall with his arms crossed and watch you hop to reach your phone charger 

they’ll sit there and watch you struggle until you turn on them with sad eyes and suddenly they’re racing to get it down for you 

these mfs are so protective they will not leave your side whenever you go to parties/the bar

one of them is glued to you 24/7 (even when they’re not physically with you, they’re watching you too) 

and anyone in the general area (07) knows not to fuck with you

on especially hard days, your size is just what they need 

coming home from fighting crazy strong villains & mutants to their cute short s/o? nothing better in the whole world

masterlist

if you enjoy content like this, interactions go a long way!! likes, comments & rbs are always appreciated ^^

How’s everyone day? ☀️ ☁️

The Last of Us Headcannons

Summary: Headcannons about TLOU2 characters 

A/N: I’m sorry I haven’t posted in a bit, I’ve ben stressed so I thought I’d write for my comfort characters lmao 

Warnings: Slight NSFW mentions, TLOU2 spoilers 

Word count: 2.4K

Keep reading

The continuation of tailor Astarion ✨️

<- Previous END! 2/2

more about plums

Sleepin’ e. Eddie Munson, Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington

How they would sleep with you next to them..

Eddie is probably at your house, in your bed and most definitely in clothes you washed the last time he was over. (A custom Black Sabbath hoodie and boxers) His hands are hooked around your waist, one of your legs between the both of his and your head tucked under his chin, forehead laying in his chest. Your hands are around his waist as well, drawing shapes on his back as you both fall asleep. Eddie mumbles a goodnight, receiving on back from you before you both doze off for the night.

Billy is also the type to be at your house, not because his room is dirty or unorganized like Eddie’s but because of his dad. He sleeps without a shirt and only in some of his basketball shorts he left over at your house a while ago. On your bed he’s on-top of your comforter with you next to him, your back to his chest and his arm around your bicep hugging you. While he starts off as the big spoon, throughout the night you both move a lot and he ends up little spoon by the time he wakes up. Instead of saying goodnight, he likes to kiss your forehead or if that’s not accessible he’d kiss back of your neck.

Steve likes you over at his place, not that he doesn’t like your house or bed but he believes his bed is the most comfiest and will debate with you about it. But Steve is another guy that sleeps without a shirt, but he wears long plaid pants that sit right below his V-line. Steve probably has to drag you to bed after a movie night in his living room. He little spoons..in a way. His back to your chest, one of your arms draped across his bicep and his head laying on the other, both of your hands locked around him. And your leg raised over and above his thigh. He doesn’t know how you sleep like that, but it makes him feel loved and secure so he’s all for it. You kiss his cheek and he mumbles a love you before dozing off.