Latest Posts by kyushinobu - Page 3

Rescue

Genre; Action, Hurt/Comfort, mostly Fluff, a lil bit of Angst (reader has a nightmare)

Word Count; 5.1k

Warnings; Canon-typical violence, reader has a bad nightmare (written if italics in you want to skip)

Pairings; Obi Wan x Reader (platonic), Plo Koon x Reader (platonic)

Hello all! This is the longest oneshot I’ve ever written and is also the first time I’ve written Plo Koon, hope I got his character right! Also, this fic kind of just ignores the whole Jedi shouldn’t form attachments thing because yanno. There are several people who just need a hug and Obi Wan is at that top of that list. Anywho, hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

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Your blood had boiled in anger from the moment you received the transmission. Some droid or other who had managed to make their way up Dooku’s ranks was staring at you in dull blue through the hologram, threatening your life for information. But more importantly, they were also threatening the life of Obi Wan Kenobi. The mere thought made you grit your teeth, the fact that not only did this group of Separatists dare to take Obi Wan hostage, but they were also trying to use him as leverage against you? Well, that was just not going to work. On top of that, most of the Jedi and their forces had been combined during a particularly vicious attack on an occupied planet that Mace Windu didn’t trust you to fight in and Plo Koon had disappeared into oblivion, meaning the people who were both able and willing to help you consisted of Wolffe and Cody, along with the reluctantly recruited C-3PO. That was it.

Keep reading

address the letters: “to the holes in my butterfly wings”

pairing: Kix and GN padawan reader (platonic)

Word count, guys it’s basically 10 K 💀bc apparently I am in capable of writing anything short.

tags/warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, mentions of blood and injury, medical procedures

summary:

In which, the CMO of Torrent Company discovers that you, a Padawan under his care have been hiding injuries and skipping medical checks, and now must take care of you as you suffer the consequences of your actions.

Also known as

Why you should never hide an injury from Kix. he will find out, and he will drag you off to the medbay so that he can take care of whatever mess you’ve made of yourself, scolding you all the wile.

“Look what I found on my bunk.”

You’re interrupted from eating your sandwich in the Cantina when Fives plops down beside you at the table, setting down a tray of food and waving a pink slip of paper in your face.

You’re about to tell him that “Can’t you see that you’re eating and get this paper out of my face,” when your eyes catch on three words written in bold text across the top of the page.

Mandatory vaccination updates. 

The sandwich, that up until this point has been the absolute centre of your attention, listen, you’re fighting a war and you have to appreciate any opportunity that you get to eat food that isn’t bland ration bars, drops out of your suddenly limp hand as you snatch up the paper, now very interested in the contents.

“When did you get this?” you ask slowly, you’re voice distracted, beginning to chew on your lower lip, already feeling the nervous coil in your stomach.

“When I came back to my bunk after the debriefing we had this afternoon. Apparently everyone got one. I bet you 10 credits that your master is going to pretend that he didn’t see it, and try and avoid it until Kix has to tear apart the ship looking for him and drag him to the medbay.” Fives chuckles.

Master Skywalker’s reputation for trying to avoid the medbay at all costs is widely known throughout Torrent Company..

“Kix is going to have a field day. I’ll give it to general Skywalker, he has some creative hiding places,” he continues, eyes lighting up at the memory of Anakin, half hazardously crammed into a supply closet, folded in an impressive, yet uncomfortable looking position as he forced his unwitting tall limbs to fit in the cramped space.

Unfortunately for Kix, your masters habit of avoiding the medbay whenever possible has rubbed off on you, though, you don’t think it’s for the same reason. Your avoidance stems from a place of fear, and, okay, a stubborn insistence that you can take care of yourself, which yes, definitely like master, like apprentice.

But that also stems from a fear. You’re determined to prove yourself, especially being a young Padawan working with those who are much more experienced than you. You don’t want to risk being taken off the field because of some stupid injury, and letting those who rely on you down, especially your master, who’s always bouncing back and getting up and ready to take on whatever is next regardless of what kind of peril he’s just come out of. You want, you need, to prove that just because you’re a Padawan, you’re not a liability, but an asset. You can be strong and resilient like master Skywalker.

So, you avoid. You dodge and you ignore and you pretend not to notice when the routine medical check dates come and go without your attendance. You know it’s only a matter of time before Kix gets on your ass about it. You’re surprised that you’ve kept it up this long. But, this only bolsters your confidence in being able to avoid another successfully.

“I’ll be right back,” you say, trying to sound nonchalant, setting the paper back down on the table before you run off into the crowd.

*

Sure enough, there is an identical slip of paper that’s been placed on your bunk. But conveniently, Jedi master Aayla Secura is going on a diplomatic mission to amid rim planet in a last ditch effort to try and convince them not to secede from the republic during the date that’s listed on the page when you’re scheduled for your vaccinations.

Earlier this morning, master Skywalker had asked if you had wanted to join this mission, saying that it would give you a break from being on the frontlines, and it would be easy enough to arrange, as master Secura would rendezvous with the 501st before she departed.

This morning, you had turned him down, listing several reasons as to why you needed to stay with the 501st. Your troops needed you, diplomatic missions were boring anyways, and you didn’t think that you would be of much help to the experienced and capable master Secura, who was a formidable diplomat in her own right. You didn’t think you would be able to add anything of particular value to the conversation, at least nothing that master Secura wouldn’t be able to say much more eloquently and better.

Now though, the only thing that’s running through your mind is the fear of needles and the dread of going into the medbay and that’s enough to make you reconsider everything you had said.

When you tell master Skywalker that you’ve changed your mind, and would actually like to accompany Aayla on her mission, he’s slightly confused considering you had been so adamant that you were needed here only just a few hours ago. 

But, he knows that as a Jedi, you need diplomatic experience. Experience that, before the war, would be very easy for Padawan’s to come by. He knows that you don’t have nearly as much as you should.

These are unprecedented times, though, and Padawan’s being trained during an active war is not ideal. He wants for you to be well-rounded. He has hope that your future won’t always involve war at the centre of it, and any opportunity that you get to learn how to be a keeper of peace should always be encouraged, especially during these times.

 So he gives in pretty easily, and when master Secura arrives, you happily join her. When the ramp of the ship seals behind you and you’re sitting with her in the cockpit, the warm relief that flows through your bones is palpable. 

“Success,” you think to yourself triumphantly.

*

Your triumph, however glorious it might have felt in the moment, is short-lived.

In spite of the fact that some old injuries, that you honestly thought you had done a pretty good job at taking care of yourself, were starting to aggravate you again, the unexpected joy and relief that weaved itself through the force, openly shared between you and master Secura, surrounded you like a warm blanket, protecting you from feeling the things that hurt you.

The planet you had just visited had agreed to stay with the republic, after a tense three days of debate between its political factions. The victory Was a surprise, considering how vehemently the opposition pushed to secede, but it was not unwelcome.

Aayla’s T-6 shuttle docks in the hanger bay of the much larger 501st transport. As you wait for the doors to open and the ramp to fold down before you, you’re still riding on that high, feeling, for the first time in a long time, the thrill of a success. One that you are unable to feel on the frontlines, because even when your battles result in a victory, you are surrounded by so much death and violence that in the end, you don’t really feel like celebrating. 

You’ll never admit it to your master, but privately, you think to yourself that maybe diplomatic missions aren’t as boring as you thought they were. You were able to help resolve a conflict, peacefully, without even having to brush your fingers against the hilt of your lightsaber, which, nowadays, is becoming more and more of a rare occurrence. But it’s what Jedi do, or at least, what they’re supposed to do, so you have to embrace the gratitude of the experience you just had, and try and take it with you going forward.

Your thoughts are preoccupied with these ideas swirling around your head, so you don’t see him until you’re stepping out onto the ramp of the T-6, descending into the hectic and busy as usual crowds of the hanger bay.

When you do, though, you stop dead, and your heart begins to race. 

Shit.

Directly in front of you, at the bottom of the ramp, stands Kix.

One look at his expression, and your stomach flips.

His lips are set in a thin, unreadable line, his brow creased as he observes you with pinpoint focus. Stern, brown eyes observe your every movement. There’s no question that the second you step off the ramp, he’s going to pounce on you like a cat seizing a mouse. 

He stands at attention, body forced into an unbending straight line, such positions you mostly see on the shiny’s, new troopers who are freshly trained during their first days out on the field. His hands are placed on his hips, the position that he assumes before he’s about to give someone, it’s usually your master who you’ve seen it directed at, the lecture of their life.

“Keep moving,” your brain supplies. “Act nonchalant, and maybe, just maybe, you’ll be fine.”

You feel your feet hit solid ground, and your speed picks up, all along, your brain is screaming at you to move. It’s weird how now that he’s standing in front of you, every injury you’ve accumulated over the past weeks is beginning to hit you, all comfort and protection that the force has been giving you to keep you going rapidly vanishing with each step you take.

The uncomfortable angle that your shoulder is sitting at, the pulling of stitches in your leg as you increase your speed. It throbs and aches with sudden abandon. But your fists clench, and you do your best not to falter under Kix’s unwavering scrutiny, just knowing that he’s looking for any flicker of weakness, any sign of pain that registers on your face.

“Just keep going, and maybe, you’ll be able to slip past...”

He steps in front of you, reaching an arm out to easily intercept your path. He says your name, in a tone that breaches absolutely no room for trying to ignore it.

You jump, startled in spite of yourself. He’s effectively got you cornered, and seeing that there’s no way out of this, Your nerves begin to skyrocket, raising like the sound of alarm bells in your head. You look up, eyes meeting his unwaveringly stern expression, And suddenly, you wish that the floor would open up and swallow you whole.

He looks down at you, and he must see something in your disposition that belies your true feelings, because though his face remains set, his eyes somewhat soften, and when he next speaks, his voice is quiet but firm.

“Come with me, please. I need to see you in the medbay.” Though he’s phrased it as a request, you know that it is an order, and one that you must follow.

As a medic for the GAR, and this is something that you’ve heard him say to many a complaining troopers being escorted to the medbay when they don’t want to go, it is well within his rights to exercise such authority and make these orders. Because when it comes to the health and safety of every 501st personnel, whether you’re a Jedi general, commander, or Padawan, Kix immediately outranks you.

You look down at the floor, suddenly finding the marks that are speckled across it very interesting, and mumble a defeated and quiet “Yes sir.” 

When he turns, and you hesitate to follow, he lets out a gentle sigh, moving to place a hand on the small of your back. His voice is low, but reassuring as he ushers you forward.

“Come on, kid, you’re okay,” he breathes, and in spite of the fact that you’re still thinking that jumping out of an airlock would be better than this, your feet, still unwilling, but the slightest bit reassured, begin to move.

*

Coric giving you a subtle pitying glance as he’s reading over a patient’s chart when Kix escorts you into the medbay makes you want to vomit.

Between the two medics,  Kix has the reputation of being a hardass because he’s the CMO. Make no mistake, you do not want to get on either of their bad sides. But, given the choice between the two right now, you think you’re more equipped to handle Coric, who can usually be counted on to soften the blow a bit, with enough pleading glances and apologies.

Your eyes flit to the door that you’ve just passed through, because stupidly, your brain is still trying to make the calculations that if you can just duck out of Kix’s grasp for two seconds, you’d be able to make a run for it.

Unbeknownst to you, however, both medics have been carefully observing your every movement since you’ve entered. Coric, remaining completely calm and at ease, rises to his feet, moving swiftly to stand in the doorway in several long strides. He casually leans against the frame, arms folded.

“Don’t even think about it, baby Jedi. Your master has attempted the same thing you are considering, and he has always failed,” he says, keeping his voice light and non-threatening, making it clear that you need to give up on your fantasy of bolting out of here, but also not trying to scare you off..

You’re just beginning to wonder how the kriff they were able to read you so easily, with one covert glance determining that you were about to bolt when Kix removes his hand from the small of your back, instead, fingers coming to gently grip your shoulder.

The change in his hold is obvious. He is fully prepared for if you try to run. He gives your shoulder a squeeze, in what you interpret as a warning not to. 

Unfortunately, he’s just touched on an injury, you’re not entirely sure what you did, but you messed up your shoulder the last time you were on the field, and even the slight pressure elicits a sharp intake of breath that you’re unable to stop from escaping your lips, and that immediately has the attention of both medics laser focussed on you.

Kix’s anticipation evaporates and quickly melts into concern. Carefully, so carefully, he turns you to face him, keen eyes sharp as they analyze your face.

“Hey,” he calls softly, waiting for you to look at him. “Tell me where it hurts,” he says, so gently that it makes your eyes burn with shame. You look down at your feet.

“That’s uh... that’s, a loaded question,” you admit sheepishly, trying to keep your tone light and joking, in spite of the fact that now that you’re thinking about it, the list of injuries you’ve sustained without reporting to the medbay is a lengthy one, and might make Kix have a stroke.

Kix lets out a controlled, slow breath, eyes momentarily finding the ceiling as he silently begs the stars to give him strength. 

“Kaysh Mirsh solus,” he mutters to himself.

You’ve heard Kix toss that phrase around the medbay on multiple occasions, and though you’re uncertain of what it actually means, he usually brings it out when one of his brothers has done something that he would consider incredibly stupid, which is often.

Coric makes a noise of agreement. “It appears that our stupidly self-sacrificing general has passed on his stupid self sacrificing behaviour onto his apprentice,” he groans. “Will we ever know a day of peace?” 

Kix looks back down at you, his expression calm and restrained. “Come on, then, let’s see what we’re dealing with here,” moving his hand to your uninjured shoulder, he steers you both further into the medbay.

*

Your eyes don’t leave the ground, but you can hear the sound of a privacy curtain being pulled shut around the cubicle that Kix has brought you to. 

When an eerily familiar pink slip of paper is being held up in front of your downcast eyes, you cringe, Arms wrapping around yourself in defence

You can’t even pretend that you haven’t seen it before, because the words mandatory vaccination updates have been circling around your brain the whole time you were out on your last mission.

“Do you know why the GAR enforces these?” Kix begins, and his voice is too measured and calm. 

You lift a brow, questioning. Does he seriously expect you to answer this? Isn’t the answer obvious? 

“Uh... so that we don’t get sick?” You answer, uncertain as to what he’s getting at.

He nods, his face displaying a slight flicker of approval. “Yes, that is one reason as to why, and it’s an acceptable one,” he acknowledges. His frown deepens as he continues. “However, one must look at the much larger picture, at every personnel aboard this ship. The most important reason why mandatory vaccinations are enforced is so that we can avoid many people getting sick and spreading illness to the rest of the crew, so that we may remain fully functional and operational, continuing to serve and protect the people of the republic.”

You squirm beneath the scrutiny of his gaze. You’re starting to see where he’s going with this, and it’s incredibly discomforting.

“I would’ve thought, that as a Jedi, you would be able to more easily see this bigger picture than most others,” he observes mildly. “After all, I know, and I’m sure everyone who spends a considerable amount of time with you can see that there is so much compassion and care for others within your very nature.”

His voice is so genuine, laced with such real kindness in his tone that it makes your eyes sting. Your heart constricts, because he’s just pointed out something that you hadn’t even considered in your selfish haste to avoid this.

By avoiding your vaccinations, you have put every member of the 501st who works with you in danger.

Your arms wrap  tighter around yourself, and you can’t bring yourself to look anywhere but at the pristine white floor beneath your feet.

Kix senses that he’s hit a mark, and his voice gentles considerably. “I also understand that you are young, and still learning to see the bigger picture and how your actions can affect those around you.”

“I, I didn’t, I was scared and I just I didn’t think about...” your voice trembles as you try to answer, tumbling out in a rush of words that race as quickly as your heart. 

“I understand, and it is perfectly reasonable for you to feel that way,” he keeps his voice level and measured. “However,” he continues, and you know what he’s about to say even before he says it. “We still have to face the things that scare us. If you had simply told me how you were feeling, we would have figured out a way to navigate it.” His face is reassuring when you dare to glance up from the floor that you’ve been resolutely staring at for this whole conversation.

“We still will figure out the best way to proceed. However, these vaccination updates are very low on my priority list of concerns when it comes to you, compared to this,” and he holds up a datapad, displaying medical records with your name typed neatly across the top.

The last several appointment entries are highlighted in red, indicating that you did not attend any of them. 

“Do I need to remind you that these appointments are not optional. Any member of Torrent Company who goes out on the field must report to the medbay upon return for examination, as well as attend our regular medical checks to ensure that you are fit for active duty.” It’s clear from the tone of his voice that this is a lecture that he is very practised in delivering.

You lift your head, finally looking directly at him. He’s already made you admit a fear that you desperately wanted to keep to yourself. You try and summon what remains of your dignity. 

“What do you want me to say, Kix?” There’s a hint of defiance in your voice. 

“Do you want me to admit that I avoided these because I had injuries that I didn’t want you to know about? Because yes, the truth is that I did.” Your eyes level with his as you try to make him understand. 

“I was scared of the medical procedures, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?” You snap, not particularly annoyed with him, but more annoyed at the fact that your answers sound so stupid out loud. 

“But I was more scared of the fact that you were probably going to take me off the field, and I couldn’t, I couldn’t let that happen. My master was relying on me. Everyone was relying on me, and I couldn’t let them down.” You try to shrug off his concern with a dismissive wave of your hand. “Besides, I’ve been doing fine,” you say evasively.

Kix does not rise to the bate of your seeming anger. He’s much too practised and controlled to let it affect him. He also has the uncanny ability to look at someone, and see everything, read through their feelings, whether they’ve been acknowledged or not, and understand them. So, even though you’re trying to push him away, with what at first glance appears to be frustration, underneath it all, he can tell that it’s just as plainly  fear.

He meets your storm filled eyes unflinchingly, levelling you with a look that is equal parts stern and unwavering, and equal parts concerned and filled with compassion. It makes your insides twist with guilt, and you want to look away, but you can’t bring yourself to as he speaks, his voice calm but steely.

“Are you fine?” he asks, an eyebrow raising as he tilts his head to look at you, his gaze clinical, assessing, even as you just stand there in front of him.

. “I already know that there’s something wrong with your shoulder. But aside from that, I’ve been observing you since you got off your transport. The way you move is slow and careful, not at all like the usual way you dash around the ship. Even now, you’re hesitating to put much weight on your right leg.” He ticks off the things he’s noticed on his fingers like a list.

“Apart from the fact that skipping these mandatory appointments have consequences. If you had kept this up, I would’ve had to bring this to our superiors, that includes the Jedi council,” he gives you a pointed look, even the mention of the high Council makes you shiver. in your experience, whenever you and your master have been summoned to speak with the council, it’s always to be reprimanded, and never good.

. “You could have been Court-martialed,” he says, knowing that his words will hit the severity of the situation home.  

You falter, stepping back as you feel your eyes go wide. “Court-martialed?” you breathe, feeling the blood draining from your face. 

He gently takes your arm, guiding you to sit on a bed as he continues, voice softening. “It is very clear that you are hiding injuries, and though I can understand why, in premise, You did this, the reality is that this will begin to affect your performance in battle. It will not just affect you. You will put yourself, as well as the entirety of the people you are leading, in danger. People could get hurt.  You could get hurt. Because you would be putting not just yourself, but others, in unnecessary danger, your ability to be in the position of a commander could be called into serious  question by your superiors, and for good reason” 

As much as he keeps his voice low and calm, you can sense that he’s disappointed in the way that you’ve handled yourself. Your teeth sink into the inside of your cheek, forcing the tears that prick at the back of your eyes to not fall. You hate disappointing people, and the fact that you’ve managed to disappoint Kix, one of the kindest people you know, makes you want to curl up into a ball and never show your face in public again.

“And that, the safety of yourself, and everyone aboard this ship, is my priority. It is much more important to me than having to report to any superior. The fact that you hold your safety, and by extension, the safety of  those around you, with such blatant disregard, is what concerns me the most, and that is what I need you to understand.” 

There’s a certain gravity in his voice that you’ve never heard before, but it slams into your chest and hits you like a ton of bricks. The implications of what you’ve been doing, of what could have happened to those around you, to his brothers, because of your inability to face your fears begin to swirl around your head with a rapidity that makes your heart race. 

These thoughts come unbidden, and too fast for you to process. The tears, that you’ve been so desperately trying to push back, spring free and begin to fall down your cheeks, unprompted, slowly, and silently. You don’t have time to stop them from coming.

Kix knows that he’s been very direct, and very blunt with you, deciding that this would be the only way to get through to you. He hates having to do it, though. Kix considers himself to be a fairly good judge of character, and he knows that you have such a caring, gentle heart and strong presence wherever you go. So, watching you break in front of him like this pains him.

Your breath hitches in an unsteady gasp as you look up at him, tears blurring your vision. 

“I’m sorry, Ori’vod,” your lip trembles as your voice breaks, wanting to curl in on yourself. “Ni ceta,” you get out in barely a choked whisper.

But he hears you, and it breaks him. 

You’ve never referred to him as ori’vod before, and the idea that you consider him as such, as a big brother, awakens his protective, instinctive nature to gather you close and keep you safe from harm. 

His Vod, mostly his batchmate, Jesse, calls it his mother hen instincts.

He can’t help it, though. Your voice, sounding so much smaller than he’s ever heard it, trembling and filled with tears, has broken what’s left of his resolve, and gently, very gently, mindful of the fact that you’re injured, he takes you into his arms, holding you close to him. Your head buries against his shoulder, and he easily cradles you there, feeling every sharp intake of breath as you cry.

“Oh, adika, shh,” he soothes, hand coming up to gently stroke your hair as he continues to speak softly to you. “You’re okay, I promise, everything is going to be alright. I’ve got you, we are going to sort this out.”

*

“Well,” he says, reading over the results of the medical scan he’s just performed. Would you believe me if I told you that a dislocated shoulder is the least of your concerns?” 

Your eyes find the ceiling, and you exhale a slow breath before asking, “how bad?”

He keeps his voice neutral as he relays the results of the scan to you. “According to your last medical check, you were diagnosed with Iron deficiency anemia, not incredibly uncommon, what with our limited access to rations and food with the proper nutrients,” his brow creases as he continues. “However, preliminary scans indicate that your haemoglobin levels haven’t much improved.”

He gives you a look.“You have been taking the supplement you were prescribed?” he asks, in a way that makes you suspicious that he already knows that the answer is no.

You avoid looking at him. “I was, but they kept making my stomach feel queasy all day, so I stopped.”  

Kix Lets out a long suffering sigh. “An issue that we easily could have rectified by changing your treatment plan if you had just let us know,” he scolds. “Nonetheless, I’d like to do a blood test to get exact confirmation of those levels and see how bad the numbers are so that we can Start getting them back up to baseline.” 

Your stomach does a flip and you cringe silently at the mention of a blood test.

Kix continues, consulting the scan results that are displayed on a datapad. “You’ve got untreated burns on your fingers.” He raises a curious eyebrow at you and your cheeks flush.

“They weren’t entirely untreated, I put them under running water,” you try to argue. The unimpressed look he gives you stops you dead in your tracks.

“It wasn’t entirely my fault,” you defend. “I was fixing one of the starfighters that got hit during our last airstrike. I got R2 to help me with the repairs but he wasn’t listening to my instructions. He crossed two of the wrong wires and caused the circuitboard to spark.”

“And that is why you should never ask R2 for help,” he says with a hint of amusement in his voice. “Those burns weren’t given time to heal, and the fact that you’re constantly wielding a lightsaber has exacerbated them. I will apply a burn ointment to them that should take away the pain and speed the process of healing.” 

He fixes you with a look.  

“The most concerning thing is The blaster wound on the front of your right  calf. Really, vod, you should know that injuries being treated and stitched up on the field, especially when not done by a medic, always should be looked over by a medic as soon as possible, due to the unsanitary environment that they were performed in.”

“Tup did his best to stitch it,” you say, feeling the need to defend the brother who, in spite of the fact that he was not a medic, sutured you up as you took cover from separatist battle droids.

“I don’t doubt that he did. I was the instructor who took every single one of the troopers on this ship through their mandatory medical courses, and I did not let them pass without proving that they were adequately able to handle emergency first aid on the field. However, it still remains that you’ve picked up an infection, and to treat it, the sutures will have to be removed, the wound reopened, and extraction of the infected tissue, as well as a course of both IV and oral antibiotics to clear up anything that remains.”

You stare at him, your eyes growing wide with horror as he explains. “How?” You ask, alarmed.

He senses your nerves and leans forward, taking your hand and running his thumb along the back of it reassuringly. “This is a surgical procedure, performed under general anesthesia.” 

You flinch at his words, and your fingers tighten around his with anxiety, needing something to hold onto. 

“I know that sounds scary, especially if you’ve never been put under before. But I promise, this is a fairly common operation. Me and Coric will both be here making sure that you’re okay the whole time.” he continues to stroke his thumb along the backs of your knuckles.

“Let’s take this one step at a time, though. We’ll take care of the things that are manageable, first,” he says, giving you an encouraging smile.

*

“Hey uh...” you say nervously, watching with anxiety fluttering in your stomach as Kix ties a band just above your elbow, prepping you for the blood draw. The way the band tightens, restricts  and squeezes around your arm Makes you feel trapped. You hate it.

“I have... I’ve had, issues in the past when it comes to these,” you say awkwardly, not knowing how to explain.

Kix only looks up at you, raising a perceptive brow. “Are you referring to your predisposition of fainting whenever a blood draw is performed?” he asks, completely unfazed. 

It’s your turn to raise your eyebrows in questioning. “Don’t worry, Coric already has this listed in your file. I’m going to get you to lie down when we do it.”

He has the sensitivity and grace not to mention the fact that he also knows this because he walked into the medbay to find Coric absolutely tearing into a junior medic for letting you leave too soon after you had gotten a blood draw, resulting in you crumpling to the floor in a faint right outside of the medbay doors. 

At your continued staring, he adds, his voice softening. “It’s a normal reaction, that likely is exacerbated because of your low haemoglobin levels. There’s nothing wrong with you, Vod’ika.” he reassures, gently guiding you to lay down on the bed. “Now, just lay down for me, and we’ll get this over with quickly, and if you faint, you faint. It happens, no big deal, I’ll be right here regardless.”  

And because you’re you, you do faint.

The needle itself is always not as bad as you anticipate it being. The Sting, though prominent,  is small and quick and over before you have time to fixate on it. 

It’s only when he’s pressing a cotton swab into the crook of your arm, encouraging you to keep it in place while he puts a Band-Aid over top, that you register the familiar feeling of drowsiness, vision blurring and ears beginning to ring, that always comes before you pass out.

You think that you might give him some indication, some warning, because he’s removing your hand from where it’s been pressing against the cotton round, replacing it with his own, much more steady one. Everything around you is muffled, and it’s jarring, but in a way that is too far away from your immediate concerns to really react to it.

When you come to, he’s pressing a cool, damp cloth to the back of your neck, other hand gently stroking hair away from your forehead. His voice fades back into your consciousness, a stream of gentle, soothing words as your eyes flutter open.

The feeling of the cloth cools your heated skin, and the hand gently running through your hair brings your senses back to focus, grounding you.

“Easy, adika, i’m right here, you’re safe,” he brushes his fingers against your cheek, and when you react, leaning into his touch, he gives you a small smile. “That’s it, there we go, you’re back. Everything’s good,” he soothes, gently stalling your movement when you attempt to sit up.

“Not right now, vod, stay down for a few more minutes. I’ve already got the blood work running through the scanner, and we should have its results quickly, okay.” You give him a small nod, still not really having the energy to do much else. You close your eyes, taking deep breaths as you come back to yourself, and when the scanner beeps, indicating that it completed its diagnostics, you jump slightly.

Kix moves over to check it as you slowly sit up. “Okay, so, your numbers are definitely not nearly where they should be he says, clearly unimpressed.

“But, Once we have taken care of your more serious injuries, will start you with an iron infusion delivered through an IV before transitioning back to pills. Don’t worry, we’ll have you on a much smaller dosage so that we can hopefully circumvent the discomfort you had in your stomach,” he says with optimism, which makes you feel slightly better about the fact that he’s just mentioned an IV. You’re not given much time to fixate on it, though, because he’s already turning away from the scanner, moving back to you.

“Let’s not worry about that right now, though. We have enough problems having to deal with the mess That you’ve made of yourself. I will do my best to resist calling you a di’kut as much as possible,” he says, hands on his hips, and in spite of yourself, it actually makes you laugh.

*

You didn’t realize how sore and irritated the burns on your hands were until you couldn’t hold back the audible sigh of relief that fell from your lips as soon as Kix began applying the burn cream to them. The pain instantly vanished, leaving a pleasant, cooling sensation behind. He wrapped small bacta patches around your injured fingers, explaining that it would make sure that the healing process was unimpeded by the outside environment.

That was easy, quick, painless. 

Your shoulder, on the other hand, is a completely different matter. As soon as Kix touches it, as gentle as he can be, it flares with pain, and your muscles tense, which just makes it worse. 

“I don’t know how you’ve been functioning with this for as long as you have,” he comments dryly. When his fingers press against the bone, assessing the damage with a practised familiarity, you cry out, eyes squeezing shut.

“Haar’chak,” you grit out, as behind you, Kix preps a syringe with local anesthetic. 

“Which one of my di’kut brothers taught you curse words in Mandoa?” he asks, beginning to disinfect the injection site.

You flinch at the cold and your cheeks flush. “Shit, you weren’t supposed to hear that. I can’t tell you that, I made a promise.” 

“Did you now?” he asks, fighting the amused smirk that plays on his lips. “Well, whoever it was, you might as well put your skills that they taught you to use.”

You look at him from over your shoulder, eyebrows raising in confusion.

He explains, “I need to give you an injection of local anaesthetic so that it takes the edge off of resetting your shoulder correctly. I know those aren’t your favourite , so, I am making a deal with you. Let me do this, and I give you free rein to throw whatever Mandoa insult my brothers have taught you at me, no consequences. Is that fair?”

The unimpressed look you’re giving at the syringe turns to surprise, then, slowly, a smile spreads across your face and you nod, quickly looking away from it. “Deal,” you accept, your voice still shaky with nerves but determined.

“Okay, deep breath for me,” He waits for you to inhale. “Perfect, now, on the exhale, give me that insult with all of your might. Ready?”

He waits for you to nod, then prompts you to exhale as he administers the anaesthetic into the back of your shoulder.

“Osi’yaim, that hurt, you di’kut,” what should be just a little pinch to your already injured shoulder makes you cry out the words, and you swear you can hear the familiar sound of Coric laughing from the other side of the medbay.

Your cheeks flush, you did not intend to be that loud. But you don’t apologize, either, and Kix only gives you a rueful grin, nodding in understanding.  

As you wait for the anaesthetic to settle, Kix warns, “I’m gonna be honest, kid, because of how long you’ve left this injury to sit, even with the anesthetic, setting it is still going to hurt.” 

You close your eyes, grimacing, before nodding with a sigh. “Do your worst,” you say, bracing yourself.

He lays a reassuring hand on your uninjured shoulder. “I need you relaxed, adika,” he says gently. “Trust me, it will only hurt more if you tense like that,” he continues, gently encouraging your shoulder downward with his hand.

“Easy, now. I want you to give me some good deep breath’s. In,” he inhales deeply, holding for a few seconds, “and out,” he lets his breath go in a controlled, slow stream of air.

He waits for you to copy, giving you a few breaths to settle into it as he prepares himself. “Perfect, just like that, keep it up, you’ve got this,” he keeps up the stream of encouraging words as carefully, but firmly, he rotates your arm, guiding your dislocated shoulder back into its proper place with one precise movement.

The sudden flare of pain, even dulled as it is by the anesthetic, takes your breath away momentarily, your vision instantly blurring with tears. When it clears,Kix has shifted to standing in front of you, gently wiping them away with his thumbs.

“Well done, vod’ika, you were so brave,” his words make you want to cry more, because you didn’t think you were brave. You thought that being brave meant confidence, at all times, and not letting other people see your vulnerability. You can’t fully understand it, but, now, you’re beginning to think that maybe your initial idea of bravery was wrong.

Your lip wobbles as you speak, “W what now?” you look up at him with wide, still watery eyes.

He gently strokes your hair. “Now, I’m going to get Coric, and you,” he playfully taps your nose, “are going to take a much-needed nap, if the bags under your eyes are any indication, while we take care of that leg wound.” 

*

It sounds simple enough. 

Kix explains the procedure while Coric preps you for surgery, making sure all your vitals are stable. As he wraps a blood pressure cuff around your arm, he tells you that that’s essentially his job while he’s in here. Throughout the surgery, he will monitor your vitals and make sure that they remain at safe levels. 

“I’m going to remove the sutures, clean the wound, remove the infected tissue, pack the wound with saline soaked dressings, then bandage it back up so that it can heal. It goes without saying that you’re going to be off the field for at least a week. You’ll need to stay here so that we can continue to monitor your recovery as well as change the dressings often. You will also need to undergo a course of IV antibiotics to kill off any lingering infection. This will also give us time to get your haemoglobin levels back up with an infusion.”

Your eyes close tightly as anxiety knots your stomach. “Oh, force, a week? But, my master needs me,” you protest.

When your eyes open again, both medics are fixing you with equally stern looks. “Your master needs you to be safe, and healthy,” says Coric, frowning, as he carefully attaches a pulse oximeter to one of your fingers. 

“If you want to be back on the field as soon as possible, you will take this week of recovery. If you want to argue with me about it, I will make it longer. A week is the absolute minimum,” Kix says, arms folded across his chest, wearing his signature “i’m the chief medical officer, you have no authority here,” expression.

You visibly deflate, reminding yourself that you pick and choose your battles, and picking and choosing a battle with two medics who are very competent at dealing with very stubborn Jedi would be a very stupid idea. 

You can’t help yourself, and in spite of the fact that you shouldn’t, you stare as Kix preps your wrist for an IV line.

Sensing you’re mounting anxiety as your eyes nervously flit around, watching  Kix’s Every move, Coric gently takes your other hand, squeezing when your eyes don’t immediately look at him. When you finally tear your eyes away from what Kix is doing, Coric is wearing a mischievous smile on his face. “So, Vod’ika, who taught you how to curse in Mandoa?” he asks, raising a curious brow.

You only scoff, rolling your eyes. “Kix already tried to find out. What makes you think that I’m going to tell that secret to you?”

“I’ve already got my suspicions. My moneys on Echo or Fives.” he gives you a wounded look, “I thought you would tell me, because I’m obviously your favourite.”

Kix uses this conversation to quickly insert the IV into a vein on your wrist. Reacting to the small pinch, your fingers instinctively tighten around Coric’s hand, squeezing it tightly.

“You’re definitely my favourite now,” you grumble, giving Kix a sidelong glare.

He gives you an apologetic look. “Sorry, Vod, i’m going to run the medication through the line now. It will act quickly, and when you wake up, this will be all done with.” 

You nod, biting your lip nervously. Coric notices, giving your hand another gentle squeeze. “Hey, kid, I know you’ve heard Kix say kaysh mirsh solus all the time. Do you know what it means?” 

You look at him with curiosity, shaking your head.

“Well, essentially it means they are stupid or foolish. But, the literal translation is even more direct .” Coric gives you a conspiratorial smile.

“What is it?” You ask as he leans forward. 

“The literal translation means their braincell is lonely,” he says, completely serious.

You feel a smile pulling up the corners of your lips and a surprised laugh falls from them. 

You feel the medication beginning to enter your system, but you’re so busy laughing that you can’t bring yourself to care. “You better not be bullshitting me,” you threaten,“or I...” you let out a yawn.

“I swear to the force, I,” your eyes begin to flutter and you yawn again, shrugging.

“I’ll think about it later,” you mumble sleepily, before promptly passing out, smile still lighting up your face.

*

Your leg hurts.

That’s the first thing you become aware of as Kix is gently encouraging you to open your eyes.

“Come on, adika, open your eyes for me,” he says  softly, fingers gently brushing against your cheek to bring you back to awareness.

“But it hurts, and I wanna go back to sleep,” you wine, blinking sleepily up at him. 

“Ni ceta, vod’ika,” he soothes, fingers gently caressing your forehead in an apology. “I know it hurts, and you can go back to sleep soon, I promise,” 

He glances at something that you can’t see, giving a small nod,“Vitals look good, the anaesthesia is wearing off nicely, and it doesn’t appear to have affected them too much. Let’s up that IV dosage,” Kix speaks to Coric, who moves to adjust your IV out of your eyeline.

Your leg throbs, and you let out a stifled whimper, hand reaching down, trying to at least find the source of your pain when Kix catches it in his, gently stalling your movements. “Let’s leave that alone for now, vod’ika. Coric is just increasing your pain med intake, that will make it better. Then you can sleep,” 

At the continued expression of pain on your face, he lets go of your hand, fingers gently playing with your hair as he instructs, “nice and easy, adika, deep breath‘s for me, everything’s okay.” 

You don’t believe him at first, but slowly, things become okay. The pain quickly fades and dulls , breathing becomes easier, and your eyes begin to flutter. All the while, Kix continues holding his vigil at your bedside, fingers continuing to gently run through your hair until you fall into a natural sleep.

*

When you properly wake up next, the first thing you notice is that your leg doesn’t hurt anymore.

Whatever pain meds Kix has got you hooked up to are very effective, and your lips pull into a relieved smile. 

The second thing you notice, when you glance around to get your bearings, is the face of your very concerned captain, Rex, at your bedside. You blink slowly, yawning. Although the anaesthetic has worn off, the pain meds still have you feeling like you’re in a fog, and your brain is working pretty slowly.

“When did you get here?” you ask, confused.

“I came straight here after you never reported to the bridge for today’s debriefing. The general said that you would be back today, and it’s unlike you to miss or forget about meetings,” he explains, looking at you, relieved to see you awake, but a flicker of concern still lingering in his eyes.

“Osik, sorry, Rex, I got myself into a bit of a bind over here,” you gesture to the IV that you’re hooked up to, chuckling a little.

“So I heard, don’t worry about it, kid. There wasn’t much to report, anyways.” His head tilts, and he raises a questioning eyebrow.“Who taught you how to curse in Mandoa, vod’ika?” he asks, keeping his voice light.

If you weren’t under the influence of pretty heavy duty pain medication‘s, you would have restraint, you would have thought before you opened your mouth. But for Rex, it was his lucky day.

you smirk, “good old Hardcase taught me everything I know,” you say with pride, smiling fondly at the memory.

Rex carefully files that information away so that he can scold Hardcase for that once he leaves. But he carefully keeps his face neutral.

His face grows serious. “Kix told me about all the medical appointments you’ve missed and the injuries that you’ve been covering up,” his voice is stern, every bit the commanding officer that he is in front of the troops. It makes you nervous, and you swallow, looking away from him.

“I swear to the force, if you ever pull something like that again, I will find out about it, and I’ll drag you to the medbay myself, even if it means chasing you around the ship and stunning you if I have to. do you realize how much danger you were in? How much danger you put others in? That was extremely reckless of you, commander. I’m very disappointed in your actions,  and it will not happen again, do you understand?”

Your hazy memory recalls the conversation you had with Kix earlier, about this very thing, and for some reason, it hits even harder seeing the disappointment, worry and concern etched on the face of the normally composed captain.

Without prompting, you find yourself bursting into tears. 

Later, you’ll blame the pain meds on your inability to keep a grip on your emotions. But right now, all you can do is think about the people, the brothers, you could have hurt, the things that could’ve happened because of you, and the tears just fall down your face, streaming from your eyes, falling down your cheeks, into your ears, dampening your hair.

.“I I’m sorry Captain I I didn’t I,” you gasp out, trying to explain, but your brain is still foggy, only clinging onto the hazy images of loss and pain due to your inability to act fast enough.

There’s a reason why people are convinced that Kix has eyes on the back of his head. Working as the highest ranking medic in the 501st has trained him to be hyper observant of all of his patients, even if he isn’t at their bedside. 

So, even though he’s been taking the time to update your file on a datapad, unbeknownst to either you or Rex, he’s also been watching you like a hawk, and the minute you begin to show that you’re overwhelmed, he’s swooping in on the two of you, protective mother hen mode fully activated by the tears falling down your cheeks.

He steps in front of you, broad shoulders immediately blocking your view of your commanding officer. “Captain,” he says, and his voice is still respectful, but there’s a hard edge beneath it, something stern that you haven’t heard before, even during the worst of him lecturing you.

“You are causing undue stress to my patient, and I’m going to have to ask you to leave, sir,” he continues, physically ushering Rex to the door.

More quietly, out of your earshot, he says,“I have already harshly reprimanded the commander. Trust me, this experience will ensure that the lesson will not be forgotten.  Now, if you want to be of use, get the general and bring him to me, please. I need to speak with him. Between you and me, Rex, I’m blaming this ordeal on him.” 

Rex begins to make an objection, but  Kix is already turning away, folding his arms. “I don’t care if you have to drag him out of council meetings. His Padawan is more important,” he shoots back, before quickly moving back to your side, all of his hard lines instantly fading at the sight of your tear streaked face.

He’s all gentleness and soft reassurances uttered as he cups your face, wiping away your tears. When you struggle into a sitting position, falling against his chest as your arms clumsily reach for him, his arms easily pull you close to him and you sob, trying to explain.

“Kix, I, I didn’t mean to, I never wanted to hurt anyone,” you whisper, clutching at him, burying your face into the crook of his neck, wanting to disappear, feeling his body shift, one hand splayed out, rubbing your back in slow, soothing circles, the other coming up to cradle your head, holding you against his warmth, sheltering you.

“Oh, adika, shh, I know. You didn’t hurt anyone, vod’ika, nothing happened,” he coos, tightening his arms around you. Lips press against your hair briefly, and you continue to cry, letting your emotions run their course as he cradles you to him, gently rocking you back-and-forth, as if you were a much smaller child.  

In this moment, you certainly feel like you are, and it’s comforting, the way he holds and settles you against him , making gentle shushing noises and speaking in low, soothing tones, the words eventually losing their meaning as sleep, yet again, gently pulls at your consciousness.

The last thing you’re aware of is him gently guiding you to lie back down, another medic, you think it’s Coric, passing him a freshly warmed blanket that he tucks around you, and a hand gently brushing through your hair as you drift back to sleep, your storm settled and calmed by his words and his presence.

*

Anakin Skywalker had been in meetings with the Jedi high Council all day, was running on his 3rd cup of caff, and still found himself stifling a yawn every five minutes. So, when Rex silently slipped into the room, politely interrupting the meeting to request that Anakin report to the medbay, he instinctively rolled his eyes, grumbling that he would go later. 

But when Rex stated that this wasn’t actually about him, and was in regards to his Padawan, Anakin was out of his seat in an instant, hastily making his excuses to the council before leaving the room, legs carrying him to the medbay faster than he ever had moved there before.

He doesn’t even stop to look as behind him, Rex calls to a group of troopers in a booming voice, “Hardcase, get Over here right now,  you di’kut, I need to talk to you regarding professionalism when it comes to working with young Padawan’s .”

When he’s escorted into a cubicle, his eyes grow wide with alarm at the sight of you, peacefully asleep, but your face looks exhausted and worn out. You’re hooked up to an IV and monitors, there’s a thick bandage that’s been secured to the bottom half of your right leg.

Kix keeps his voice low and quiet, so as not to disturb you, but he fixes your master with a hard look as he takes him through an overview of your current health status.

“Iron deficiency anemia, burns, a dislocated shoulder, a blaster wound that had to be surgically operated on due to an untreated infection that had grown quite severe and needed to be manually removed, as well as several muscle strains and bruised ribs that can be healed with proper rest.” 

His mouth falls open at the growing list, but Kix only folds his arms, continuing to speak. “General, sir, your Padawan looks to you with the highest regard, and you lead the way by example. All of these issues could have been caught much earlier and treated without having to deal with all this,” he gestures at everything you’re hooked up to.

“This behaviour was learned, and when I pressed, I found that at the root of the problem was fear of disappointing you and letting you down,” he waits for these words to sink in, and when they do, Anakin Skywalker, Jedi general who is known for his strength and recklessness on the field, hangs his head with shame, eyes finding the floor and refusing to look at Kix directly.

His meaning is clear, you are his Padawan, and as your master, it’s his responsibility to set a good example for you, and in this regard, watching pain medication flow through the IV line attached to your wrist, he knows he has failed to do so.

“So, just maybe, the next time you decide that are mandatory medical checks are optional and you can manage on your own, maybe just, consider this,” Kix gestures to you, still deeply asleep.

Before your master can respond, not that he really has any words to do so, Kix turns on his heel, quickly exiting the room before he can be reprimanded for speaking to his superior that way, not that he really cares, anyway.

If he had stayed, though, he would have seen Anakin tentatively move to your side, gently sitting on the edge of your bed as he strokes back your hair and adjusts the blankets that are tucked around you, properly shamefaced as he looks down at you and says in a voice that is soft and rarely heard coming out of him, “I’m sorry, kiddo, this one’s on me.”

*

“And this,” says Kix, quickly injecting the third and final mandatory vaccination into your arm, “is your ticket out of here.”

The week of recovery has come and gone, And you have finally been cleared to head back onto the field, as long as you continue to follow a regimen of oral antibiotics for the next week, and, more excitingly in your opinion, get out of the medbay.

“There you go, you did it,” Fives, who’s been sitting across from you, happily agreeing to be your emotional support/cheerleader, ready with a damp cloth if you need it, does a little celebratory dance that makes you laugh, even as Kix, sensing that you’re feeling unsteady, gets you to lay down.

Fives gently places the cool cloth against your skin, and it’s enough to ground you, pulling you back from the edge.

“That’s it, Vod’ika, well done, you did great,” Kix says encouragingly, giving your shoulder a warm squeeze. “Now, wait 15 minutes, and as long as you’re feeling back to normal, you can get out of here,” he smiles down at you, patting your head affectionately before moving out of the cubicle.

As soon as he’s gone, Fives liens in conspiratorially, face lighting up with mischievousness sparkling in his eyes. “Hey, kid, I bet you 10 credits that I could easily sneak you out right now and we could make this 15 minutes go a lot faster,” he grins.

In spite of the fact that you smile back at him and laugh lightly, you give your head a small shake and throw a cautious look over your shoulder.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been here for a whole week, and the biggest thing I’ve learned is that  Kix and Coric do, in fact, have eyes in the back of their heads. We wouldn’t even make it out of the door.” 

It’s true, you’ve seen several different troopers trying to carefully sneak out of the medbay when they think that no one is watching. 

What you’ve learned, though, is that the medics of Torrent Company are always watching. Nothing gets past their keen eyes or ears, and no one successfully sneaks out undetected. 

You grimace, “besides, I’ve just gotten off of Kix’s bad side, and I have no desire to go back there.”

“So,” Fives says, resignedly coming to sit on the edge of your bed with a sigh. “We’re waiting the 15 minutes?”

You carefully sit up, giving him a nod and a decisive look as you lean your head against his shoulder..

“Yes, Fives,” you affirm, letting out a small sigh of your own. “We are waiting the 15 minutes.”

************************* thank you so much for reading. Comments and re-blogs are always appreciated here.are always appreciated here.

Mandoa translations. Kaysh mirsh solus, they are stupid/foolish. Ori’vod: Big Brother (in this instance) can also be used as big sister or big sibling. Ni ceta: i’m sorry. Vod: Brother/ sister/ sibling. Adika: little one. Vod’ika: Little sister, little brother, or little sibling Haar’chak: damm it. Di’kut: Fool (literal translation is underwear forgeter) which kills me. Osi’yaim: shithead. Osik: shit.

me and the logan hoes 😭

Forced to work, born to draw little guys

NSFW - MDNI - Reader is MALE

I was thinking about horny!Logan who went too much time without your touch and was on the verge of a sexual nervous touch down. Blame all the villains or rampaging mutants who caused problems all the damn day or night.

Thinking about horny!Logan who, instead of sleeping, hugged his pillow anf bit down on it (I headcanon that he bites a lot during it) staining it with saliva and growls. You were exausted after all the day of flying around in the jet to aolve issues here and there.

Thinking about horny!Logan who tried to get himself off but just couldn't since he was always riding you out and that caused him to not be able to pleasure himself fully (not that he minded).

Thinking about horny!Logan who just couldn't take it anymore and straight up took you away from the kitchen, were you were eating some rosemary beef and dragged you into his room. He shoved you on his bed and climbed up your form biting harshly on your neck.

"Logan- fuck what the hell?!" you struggled to the heavy man of your neck, his fangs were still connected to your love bites by a string of warm saliva.

"Shut it and just stay put bub" he growled as he tossed away his jacket and sat astride, grinding firmly on your crotch.

He smirked as you planted your veiny hands on his sides and then propped yourself on your elbows.

"You have never been one for words Logan" you arched an eyebrow and smirked as your hands snaked up his torso on the tight shirt he was wearing.

"What do you really want sweetheart?" you chirped in a smug way, he was glaring at you, he never liked pet names being given to him.

He didn't spoke, he wasn't one for words and so he grinded down on your clothed crotch.

"That's what I want, make me ride you and we'll be good".

If you manage to take down one, the other is never far behind...

Domestic Old!ManLogan and Laura

Old!ManLogan survives and they just move to a farm. I'm just craving domestic!Logan.

tags: gn!reader, domestic Old!ManLogan.

Words: 377

Logan and Laura play fighting, that's it. He just loves to rile her up, because he's a little bastard and she's too much like him. She will launch herself at him and try to bite, while Logan loses his shit.

Logan's healing seems to be recovering well. He will no longer be the man he was in his prime, of course, but at least you don't have to constantly worry about him getting gunshot wounds.

Laura will follow you around like a duckling, she imprinted on you very quickly. You are her parent there's no room for discussion. You love that girl to bits and would give her the moon if you could.

Sometimes Logan likes to lift her to keep her away from you because he knows that annoys her. She will kick and curse him in Spanish while he chuckles. If you playfully 'chastise' him on his behavior, he will lift you too with his other arm and carry you both around the house ignoring your protests. He may be old, but he's still inhumanely strong.

You three make meals together, Laura will set the table, while you and Logan deal with the cooking. He likes to chop vegetables, because it reminds him of his claws. They are still painful for him to pull out, but it's getting better, as his healing factor develops.

He's insanely good at chopping veggies.

I can imagine Logan getting a dog for the family. A very big and friendly mixed breed fella that he will personally train to be a guard dog. Honestly, Laura and Logan's lack of imagination amuses you to no end because:

Name: Dog

Breed: Dog

Occupation: Dog

(They thought it was hilarious)

Logan tries his hardest to discipline Dog, but he knew from the very beginning it was a losing battle, you and Laura kept pampering the puppy to no end the mutt is becoming spoiled. (He complains about it as if he didn't secretly feed him leftovers).

Almost every night Laura sleeps with you on the bed, Logan tried to break her out of that habit, but as soon as Dog started joining you three, he gave up. You and Laura just laugh at his exasperated expression.

You are just a happy little family.

When there’s a Logan, there’s a You

Logan Howlett [Variants] • She/Her Pronouns • Mutant!Reader [Heightened Senses] • In Wade’s attempts to find the perfect Wolverine for his timeline, he half expected not to run into the many different yous that existed • ANGST/SFW/NSFW • TW: Blood / Nightmares / Scars

“Oh, I gotta find me another Logan” Wade sighs, taking out the glorified fire phone. “An alive one…Don’t get up, guys. I’ll see myself out”

Comic Accurate Short King

“Logan!” Wade shouts in the axe throwing bar, spotting Logan sat at the bar. “I’m gonna need you to come with me.”

“Who’s asking?” Logan glared, hopping off the bar stool and revealing his true height.

“Oh, look at this hairy Lou Retton” Wade giggles behind the mask. “Did you stick the landing, little guy?”

A bit of annoyance grew on Logan’s face as he walked closer to Wade.

“Yes, you did! Comic-accurate short king” Wade leaned down, his voice in more of a mocking way and before he could say more he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Marvel Jesus turned around and holy fuck was this universe’s Y/N was tall as SHIT.

“Who you callin’ short, fucking ketchup bottle?” Y/N growled, gripping his shoulder with a bit of a force that drove a shiver down his spine.

“Okay Godzilla, I think I’ll be on my way out” Wade pulls himself away, taking the phone out and staring at their height dynamics as the door opens behind him. “He climbs you like a tree huh?” He teased only for both of them to get annoyed about to follow him but he quickly went through with it shutting behind.

Cue the fucking montage

Weapon X

As Wade steps through the door he was in shock at how ruined this universe was.

“Everything here is on fire” He thought out loud, entering an alleyway finding a hunched over figure with a cloak covering them. “Hi, have you seen I guess a more apocalyptic looking Hugh Jackman around here?”

The individual lifted their head showing their face to Wade causing him to kneel in front of the person.

“Fucking hell is that you Y/N?!” Wade removed the hood of her cloak revealing the buzzed hair. “Okay Furiosa, you slay in any universe”

The confusion write itself on her face as she didn’t know who this person was but given her state of being, she didn’t have the strength to fight him. But he sure did.

Suddenly, Wade was thrown away from Y/N’s space causing a bit of a comical scream to erupt out of the poor guy. Next thing he knew, his body met the wall which broke a few bones. Especially the car he landed on broke a couple more.

As Wade groans lifting himself onto his elbows, he turned to find a man had replaced where he was.

“I don’t know who you are but maybe you know where—-“

The man straightened up turning around to look Wade with the familiar scowl that matches every Wolverine.

“Well well well, you aren’t a kitty cat like the rest with that lion’s mane of yours” Wade smirks rolling off the car and walking over to get up close and personal. He was about to demand he come with him but then his eyes moved with his head to the metal stump that used to be his left hand. “Do your claws still work with that thing?” He gasps suddenly, straightening up. “Was that the hand you used to jerk o—-“

Before he could finish he went flying to the wall again after Logan punched him with said stump. Logan had enough of this yapping individual he’s never seen before and decided a threat is a threat. So he went after Wade and if he could, he’d turn him into ceviche if other matters didn’t stop him.

Y/N watched this all play out for a while and wanted to break it up but a part of her couldn’t handle the noises she was hearing.

Her wince is what made Logan stop and shove Wade off the car he was fighting him on before quickly approaching her. Logan gently cradles her face with his hand resting his forehead against hers.

“Yeah…okay, I’ll uh…see myself out” Wade groans dragging his body to the door he opened with his phone.

Patch

When Wade opened the door to the next universe he was confused whether he was in a casino in Vegas or a casino in the middle of the jungle because when he looked outside the window it looked like a jungle.

“Can I help you sir?”

The voice caught him off guard as he quickly turned around to lock eyes with this universe’s Y/N. Except his Y/N had cochlear implants. Not every universe is the same people! This Y/N clearly had her mutation manifest a bit too much that her eardrums BOOM! Exploded. Bursted…what’s the medical mumbo-jumbo? Anyway, I only know that cuz that ALMOST happened to my Y/N.

“Sir—-Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for a tall broody man that apparently has a very gremlin sized version of himself in another universe. Hell, you were alllllll leg there” Wade started to doze off thinking about how exactly the short king, yknow then he snapped back into it. “Anyho! You’re not helpful so I’m leaving you in your cute little waiter outfit alone and let myself in”

Before he even got to the door, Y/N blocked his path firmly pressing her hand against his chest.

“Okay princess, I’m not here to fight. I just need to talk to Logan”

The name triggered a thought in her mind unknown to him, but it was obvious that she thought Logan’s position was about to be compromised by this stranger.

“You don’t have a meeting with Patch and if you enter without granted access…I’ll have to take care of you myself” Y/N shoved Wade with a force he would never expect from her.

“Holy shit have you been working out or juicing?” Wade scoffs falling on his ass watching Y/N take out a small canister that with a quick press of a button it formed into a staff. “Marvel H. Christ…you pack a punch. I wonder what you’d do with the Hulk as your opponent”

“I’d leave if I were you”

“Sorry, sweetcheeks. That’s a no can do” Wade groans on his way back up, taking one of his katanas out. “Guess I’ll have to force my way through”

Logan suddenly felt uneasy as he looked at his winning cards, confusing the others at the table but his expression was toward what he heard that they didn’t. He reveals his cards and listened to their disappointment but before he could leave the table…

“Patch” Wade gave him a look which led Logan to gesture for the man on his right to give up his seat for him. “I need to talk to you”

“I don’t know who you are, bub” Logan tapped the table for his cards as the dealer gave Wade his as he was confused at to what they were playing.

“Yeah but I know exactly who you are and you HAVE to tell me how you snagged Y/N. The little lady is crazier than mine.” Wade lifted his cards, leaning into Logan. “What are we playing?” He whispers only for the man to growl at him in his space. “Ok ok. Not Go-Fish…uhm. I fold”

The dealer nodded and went to the next player, Logan kept his composure for the most part but when Wade said his partner’s name…his whole body tensed.

“How do you know Y/N.”

“Well that’s a bigger discussion we should have in private. And probably without her because she’s gonna be pissed when she wakes up” Wade went to reach for his card and Logan had enough which led the man to unsheathe his claws to stab him in the head. The woman on the other side of the mercenary, screamed when blood got on her but business continued as Logan retracted his claws along with pulling Wade away and off the table.

“You look like you could use a drink” the dealer gestured for a waiter to come over and before Logan could stand up to check on one in particular, he felt a hand stop him.

Logan quickly looked up locking eyes with his partner who bore a tired expression along with a bruise forming on her cheek. He could smell the blood on her and knew it was hers given she hide her other arm behind her back to avoid other eyes.

‘You okay?’ He signed to her as Y/N nods before both their attention were drawn to Wade dragging himself along the carpeted floor.

“Never…coming…back here” Wade groans continuing to drag himself away as Y/N scoffs at his form while signing ‘idiot’.

As soon as Wade left, Logan rises to his feet excusing himself from the table and walking out with Y/N back to the small lobby before their casino room. He frowns scanning around the room to see all the damage done to the place alone.

‘He ever comes back, you get me’ Logan scoffs as he signs to her while taking a hold of her arm that Wade managed to knick with his tiny knife.

‘I can handle myself’ She frowns, feeling his fingers gently lift her chin to have her attention on him.

“I don’t care. This operation is risky, I can’t lose you in the process” Logan frowns, kissing her forehead before bringing her into his arms for a brief moment. Her body finally relaxed after that whole interaction.

Old Man Logan

“This is much homier than the last universe…I think I still taste metal…” Wade pondered as he approached the small property in the woods. “Was it his claws or her staff going up where the sun don’t—-Oh hey!” He waves at the old man on the porch.

Said old man didn’t seem to care much of the guy dressed like a ketchup bottle. He kept his attention on himself until he heard the footsteps draw nearer.

“Hello, Hi! Hope you’re the man I’m looking for”

The old man lifted his gaze only for Wade to be taken back a sec.

“Well don’t you need some coconut oil on…that” He gestures to Logan’s older complexion as his words only drew out a low growl from the old man. “So you and my Logan actually aged. Can the little Wolvie still perform? I wanted to ask my Y/N but she’s still grieving”

Logan glared at him which drew out a growl out of the man the closer Wade got.

The growling annoyed more than the merc as the front door opened revealing this universe’s Y/N with a very tired expression on her face. Logan’s growling suddenly stopped as he turned toward the door finding her disappointed expression making his expression soften for a second.

Then a whole 180 turn back to Wade returning the scowl on his face and suddenly the shotgun he was hiding under his blanket fired at the poor guy launching him back from the force alone.

“He’s twitching” Y/N frowns stepping off the porch and checking the body, watching the bullet holes heal. “He can heal like you, babe” she pulls away from the body, only for her back to bump into Logan’s chest as he instantly went to cover her with his body. “He’s not going to hurt me”

Logan shot her a glare which was met with an annoyed look from her. He tensed when he heard Wade groaning, resulting in him gently nudging Y/N back as he took a step back.

“Okayyyy…clearly, I struck a fucking nerve with this one. Like…the others” Wade groans rising to his feet and cracking his back as he did such. “I shall bid y’all farewell…this writer needs to send me to a universe where the wolverine is a cat. Then maybe just maybe I won’t be too hurt” he sighs taking out his phone and opening a door to the next universe.

The poor guy looked around terrified as to where the man dressed in red had disappeared to, all while Y/N pulled away heading back inside.

“You want some peach cobbler?” She asks halfway through the door as Logan perked up quickly following behind her.

The door shut a moment, then Logan opened it back up leaving his shotgun outside before going back in.

Crucified Wolverine

Wade face plants into the sea of red skulls and part of him was afraid but most of him was curious.

“What in the fuck…” He lifts his head finding Logan on a giant yellow X. “Are you okay??” He laughs, struggling to rise to his feet as he stumbles on over to get close to this variant.

All this Logan has done was groan to the feeling of the nails in his wrists and the rain hitting his skin making him overall uncomfortable.

“Yeah uh. Not you…we’re uhm. Going in different directions” Wade turned around opening a door. “Thank god I didn’t find a Y/N skull…”

“Y/N…” Logan sobbed hearing her name which only made Wade anxious and get out of there faster not wanting to know what happened to one of his best friends in this universe.

John Byrne’s Brown and Tan Wolverine

“Oh yes, YES! Classic John Byrne brown and tan” Wade nodded happily watching Logan come into view of the wrecked forest they stood in. “Now you fought the Hulk in this costume…”

Logan readied himself, unsheathing his claws at the exact moment the Hulk roared which led Wade to turn around being face to face with said green monster.

“I’m Marvel Jesus you dull creature and I——“ Wade was suddenly hit by the Hulk into the trunk of a knocked down oak.

Part of him was having enough of these Logan variants that Wade started to whine and an even bigger chunk of him wishes his Y/N was with him.

“Get up!”

It felt like he was seeing an angel when her voice caught his ears. Y/N picked up Wade like it was nothing, carrying him over her shoulders and bringing him away from the fight but the Hulk was acting like a bull chasing them which led to Logan chasing him.

“DITCH THE RED, BUB” Logan shouts, climbing a tree and launching himself onto the Hulk’s back throwing him back.

Y/N suddenly dropped Wade but helped him to his feet. “Listen, Red. You’re not from here and this ain’t your fight”

“I know I know! I was gonna ask if I could borrow your Logan to help save my universe” Wade’s voice was panicked watching Logan and the Hulk fight.

“Look. Avengers are after us for messin’ with the multiverse already. You need to find a Logan that doesn’t have anything he could lose in his universe.” Y/N frowns. “It’s messed up but that’s how it’s gonna have to be.”

“Wait. How the fuck do you know so much about the multiverse?”

“When your Red vanishes one day and it became this unknown trend…you get curious and start talking to a few sorcerers” Y/N states, getting a chill down her back as she quickly grabs Wade pulling them both out of the way of the tree thrown their way.

“Y/N FOR FUCKS SAKE” Logan shouts, mainly over his anxiety for their safety with a hint of anger.

Y/N sighs grabbing Wade’s hand and pulling him out of their line of sight. She quickly took the phone out of his hand and dialed in two sequences.

“These two have lone Wolverines. One definitely has some baggage from a different studio but the other I know nothing about”

“Ok ok…I’ll take it” Wade took the phone, opening the first one up. Before she stepped completely away, he called out to her catching her attention. “Uhm. I…”

“You will save your universe, Wilson.” Y/N gave a small nod with a smile before turning around and running toward the fight.

The Cavillrine

The revving of the motorcycle caught his attention instantly.

“Oh now we’re talking” Wade started to approach this universe’s Wolverine. “That’s the whole goddamn package right there”

As he got closer, he grew more confused and remembered when the other Y/N brought up “studio” as if it meant something important…

“Yknow…from behind you look a little like Henry—-“ The second Logan turned around, Wade gasped. “Oh my FUCK…the Cavillrine the legends are true”

Logan gave him a confused expression as he puffed out some cigar smoke, bringing his attention toward his bike once more.

“And may I say sir on the behalf of all humanity….this just feels RIGHT” Wade emphasized on the last word with a bunch of giddiness in his voice watching Logan turn to him. “We will treat you so much better than those shit fucks down the street!”

“You were just leaving” Logan scoffs, removing the cigar from his mouth and tossing it.

“No sir! I wonder if your Y/N looks a little like Amy Adams” Wade thought for a moment, “No no no sir, not while the fate of my universe is at—-“

Poor guy.

Wade flew through the next time door from the force of Logan’s punch.

The Worse Wolverine

After the whole spiel, Logan came face to face with Wade’s gun as he could sense he had enough of disappointment. But he wasn’t going to go that easily.

“Watch this” Logan laughs reaching for the bottle and straightening up. “Alright…Woah—-“ he grabbed onto the gun to stabilize himself. “Easy…” he laughs softly, starting to drink the bottle straight up.

“Good god” Wade watches in pure shock. “Thirsty little honey badger aren’t yea?” He continues to watch him down the bottle which triggered a thought in his mind. “How did Y/N deal with your little drinking problem huh?”

Logan finished the bottle with a bit of a shocked expression hearing that name. “Y/N?” He questions him, only to suddenly collapse from the amount in his system.

Wade sighs holstering his gun and stepping over his unconscious body. “You will have to do”

You’ve all seen the movie do I really have to rewrite the whole thing? Let’s just get to the part where you show up

Althea scoffed after her wishing she was deaf comment as she listens to the commotion Wade and Logan were causing in the streets.

“Y/N!” She shouted knowing her apartment door is closed, and Y/N’s. But with her mutation, she heard her.

Y/N instantly lets herself in running over to the window and climbing out onto the fire escape where Al was. She instantly took note of the commotion happening.

“What is it?!”

“A fuckton of Wades”

“God fucking damn it. They better not be staying. Those motherfuckers won’t pay their rent!” Al scoffs again, going back into her apartment to look for some much need cocaine in her opinion. All while Y/N continued to watch the fight happening before re-entering herself and quickly grabbing something.

While the two were fighting in the bus, Y/N stepped out of the apartment complex finding a few Deadpool stragglers resulting in her running toward a presumed dead one and grabbing his handguns to take out the few giving hopefully her Wade less trouble. She flinched to the sound of broken glass as she ran over to the end of the bus sighing with relief.

“Wade, this is what you’ve been doing?! Fucking up the multiverse?!”

“I DIDNT DO SHIT! BLAME THE TVA” Wade shouts in her direction as he couldn’t help but feel the growing tension beside him that was Logan staring into Y/N’s soul from the looks of it. “Listen sweet cheeks. We gotta go save our universe and I need peanut’s help. So while he continues to stare at you like he’s seen a ghost Imma need you to have our backs in case—-“ he heard the sounds of bones cracking back into place as Y/N instantly knew where he was going.

“Go!” She shouted at them and while they ran to take care of the time ripper, she half expected to take on a whole clusterfuck of Deadpools. But when she heard the stand down! from Peter. She had only an ounce of hope.

Once the threat of it all was over, Y/N found herself back in her apartment leaned up against the door hugging a flannel close to her chest as she didn’t feel it in the moment. But seeing Logan, not her Logan, again was bringing back all kinds of feelings. She was hugging her Logan’s shirt as she had quite a few along with a box of Polaroids that their daughter took for the most part.

A knock on the door pulled her out of this trance she put herself in as she rises to her feet.

As she opened the door, her heart that was once beating fast because of her anxiety…relaxed when she locked eyes with Laura. Y/N instantly dropped the flannel and broke down into tears bringing her into her arms sobbing with her.

“Mom…” Laura whispers, sobbing and gripping onto the back of her shirt. Y/N held onto her for dear life, looking over her shoulder to find a smiling Wade and equally happy Logan beside him.

When they locked eyes, Y/N couldn’t help the smile on her face even with all the tears before hiding her face while hugging Laura. Logan felt his heart beating out of his chest.

You’ll find me again, I promise His Y/N’s words rang in his head as he looked at this universe’s Y/N.

A Logan will always find a Y/N

"Come here, pretty boy!"

Mihawk stops, turning at the sound of your voice floating through the open door of one the rooms. Were you talking to him? Terms of endearment aren't entirely new between the two of you, but pretty boy is entirely new.

Curious, he strides towards the door, intent on seeing what you need ㅡ and freezing when he finds that your attention is on that damn feline.

Eyes narrowing, Mihawk slips away quietly, leaving you oblivious to his presence. He knows he wouldn't be jealous of Kurai, swears that he isn't ㅡ but what has that creature done to deserve such sweet names from you?

Though he most definitely is not sulking, he dwells on it until after dinner when he looks up from his book to look at where you're curled up with your own propped open in your lap, one hand on the book and the other on Kurai.

"Darling," he begins, waiting until you look up. "I overheard you talking to..." He falters, eyes narrowing on the pleased cat next to you, "Kurai earlier, and you called him 'pretty boy'."

You blink. "I did," you answer, "because he is my pretty boy." You scratch under Kurai's chin.

"I see." He pauses, debating. "....am I not also your pretty boy?"

Your head tilts, brow furrowing. "Of course you are. What is this about?" You glance at Kurai, then back at Mihawk. "Are you jealous of the cat?"

He glares. "No. Jealousy of a creature like that is beneath me."

You nod, amused and wholly unconvinced as you return your attention to your book. "Whatever you say," you intone with a smirk, "pretty boy."

Mihawk scoffs, returning to his own book and sneaking glances at you when you don't notice, all but glaring at the cat.

Okay, so maybe he's a little jealous.

[OC X CANON APPRECIATION POST! 🩷✨]

REBLOG IF YOU LOVE AND SUPPORT OC X CANON!!

wedding ring

origins!husban!logan x origins!wade x wife!reader

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.

marjorie. logan howlett x ftm!reader. part OO1.

synopis: after logan and you passed, Laura thought it would be the time for her to use everything she learned from you two to raise her children or to live her life, not to scold her parents from another universe.

cw: death, grieving, mention of t-shots and needles, angst, scenting. wolverine & deadpool insertion. Reader goes by he him and he is a mutant too, afab terms used. No use of y/n. Inspired in marjorie by taylor swift only by the lyrics.

words: 2.5k

a/n: I'm probably gonna do a series of this bcs this shit is long.

☆☆☆

Laura always knew Logan and you were soulmates. In the second she met you two.

And she only confirmed it when both of you passed.

"Never be so kind you forget to be clever." Logan said to her.

You couldn't deny that the second most beautiful thing about Logan's death was that Laura got in your life. The most beautiful thing was that he could finally rest.

Even though it broke you into pieces when Laura showed up on your door and gave you the news, a part of you was relief for him. He was so tired, and you could see that, you weren't stupid, that's something Logan loved about you.

But he was exhausted, you could see that, you always managed to see right through him from the second he met you back in the mansion. And it was obvious that he had lived too much at that time, and despite your obvious rejection of him leaving you that day, you knew it was for the best. You were satisfied, you knew he knew how much you loved him, and you knew how much he loved you.

You were spiritually connected to him, and you knew that because your grief started the first day he didn't call. You knew, you always know, he would say.

That didn't mean that you weren't grieving harder when you got the news, it just wasn't a shock to you when Laura told you. You would sleep hugging his flannel shirt and squeezing his tags in a fist as you cried, hoping to wake up and that the scent of him there suddenly became him again.

It never happened, of course. Logan was gone.

But Laura was there, staying with you like Logan would wanted. And God, you would've loved to raise her with him, he would've loved that too, you are so sure, you knew him so well. She was a sweet girl, and she became even sweeter under your wing. And you cried all night because she managed to copy some of Logan's manners in the short time he spent with her. They were so alike it broke you even more, but you were a strong man, Logan always told you that.

You knew he was taking care of both of you and that you were a great dad. You knew, somehow you knew. Laura could hear you talk to him some nights when you thought she was asleep, and you cried, telling him how much you wished he could see her, see the smart, amazing woman she had became. Logan knew. You knew it too.

Laura made you so happy, and how couldn't she? She was an innocent girl, craving affection. You gave that to her. Oh, you were the most amazing girl dad in the world.

When she got older, you started to work with Logan's limo plus of the job you had as a lawyer assistant, so money was good at that time, and luckily, Logan had left you a bit of money too. Smart wolf, you chuckled when found the money.

Related to your identity, Laura didn't know and didn't mind, and you made sure she was an open minded kid and explained it to her when she was old enough. And she noticed, when she knew, that you had stop taking your T-shots. You hadn't even realized yourself, and the answer to her question of why you hadn't been taking them, was so freaking sad she could've broke into tears right there.

"Logan used to do them for me." You sighed. "I was always afraid of needles. "You chuckled sadly. She left the topic there.

When Laura adopted a brown cat from the street, you sighed and accepted, feeling that it could make her learn something about parenting or some shit like that. You named it Logan, of course.

You would pet that cat all night long, you slowly stopped crying and began to move on. Gosh, but it was so hard when you got in the limo and it smelled like him. Sometimes you cried, and that was okay, you had lost the love of your life, the man that made you the happiest guy in the world, and grief was long.

He died as a hero.

You didn't tho.

When you fell sick, Laura was on a trip, and you didn't want to worry her, but you didn't have much hope. You had lived a good life, but a wild that, a lot of drugs, cigars, and alcohol, also a lot of wounds, you had faced death plenty of times when you were part of the X-Men. Maybe it was your turn to go with your friends.

When Laura came back, you were already pretty bad. Logan was sitting next to you in bed, your weak hand caressing it's fur with a weak smile.

"Dad..." She cried, kneeling in front of you. You cupped her face in your tough, wise hand. "I don't know what to do without you, please."

You were everything Logan wasn't. You thought with your heart and acted with your brain, Logan thought with his brain and acted with his heart. He had to tell you to stop being so empathetic, you had to tell him to be less impulsive. He had to tell you to 'relax that pretty head of yours', you had to tell him to use it more, as you giggled. The perfect combination of kind and smartness was your daughter, the perfect combination between you and Logan. Individually, you were great parents, and Laura was sure that you've always taught her what Logan taught her before, your ideals and principles collided and combined in the most gorgeous and smoothest dance of all time.

"Are you scared?" She asked.

"Nah, kid, I've faced death so many times it doesn't scare me anymore." You sighed with a chuckle.

A silence got between you two, not an awkward one, for sure, you were her dad, but she didn't know what else to say, or how to feel.

"I get to see that mad wolf again, too."

She bit her lip to retrain a sob. Gosh, how could you say that? Although you were right, it was so freaking sad.

"Cry your eyes out, kid, remember what I taught you." You said in your classical parenting tone.

Laura squeezed your hand as she layed her head in the hospital bed. You stroked her hair as she cried.

"Your dad and I will be watching you, 'lright? Making sure you don't get into so much trouble." She nodded under your touch, still sobbing. You coughed a bit, your free hand stroking the tabs hanging in your neck and sighing in relief. You were going to meet him again. "Look at me, pup." You said.

She raised her face, crying her eyes out as she looked at your serious yet loving grin.

"Never be so clever you forget to be kind." You said, cleaning her tears with your shaking thumb. She nodded under your touch, caressing your hand.

You passed that night, you hand gripping at Logan's tags so hard they had to bury you with them, next to him. The two X's touching in the taller stick, like they were grabbing each other.

You didn't die heroically, but you were Laura's hero.

Grief was so hard. Laura began to understand you. There was so much she would loved to had told you before and she didn't because she thought she had more time. She didn't, but that didn't matter because you knew.

There was so much she loved about you, about your parenting, things that made her feel so loved and heard and that she took for granted and just never told you.

At reunions, you would bump her knee with yours so she knows you are there for her. She regretted every time she told you she was to tired to go see the sunrise because you loved watching the sun go up, and every time she said no to one of your special, unique teas that she would never have the chance to taste now. She hated herself for complaining when you drove her to school and back home, saying it wasn't cool.

She hated that she kept quiet, that she didn't ask you more about you, about how you lived, about how to live. How to be. She regretted that she didn't take notes from your best parenting quotes. But she remembered you were alive, alive in her head.

You didn't ask for a child, and yet you never mistreated her, never raised a hand to her, never complained about having her. She was so grateful for you and so sad that she couldn't tell you that before.

After work, she would hang where you two were buried, to see if maybe any words she said there would get to you. They did. You heard everything.

God, she missed you.

(...)

Wade Wilson was having a really hard time finding one of your versions to take with him. It wasn't that you weren't willing to help him or some shit like that, it was that in every universe, you had a Logan (except in one he found you wrestling under the sheets with that German boy), so you were no use. Why? Because he needed you single or you wouldn't pair to Logan.

It was almost a rule that every Logan needed you, in every universe, in every timeline (except in that weird one with the Nightcrawler but it doesn't matter). So, if Logan doesn't have a you, the prophesy or whatever shit that was making Wade's timeline dissappear, didn't work.

So, every you seemed to have a Logan, Wade was even starting to get jealous, he didn't know if jealous of Logan or of you, or both. You were such a couple of lovebirds it almost made him sick and sad.

Finally, he spotted a you sitting in a cementery next to a grave with an X. Ah, perfect, Wade thought. He never seemed so happy to see you grieving.

"Hi there, sweet pea" he kneeled like he was talking to a puppy.

"The fuck do you want... weirdo in a sex suit?" You frowned looking at him.

"Okay so I lost number in the times I've talk to different versions of you so I'm going straight to the point, sweet pie." He tried to approach to the grave and you showed your fangs, your eyes getting yellow and dilatated, hissing at him. "Whoa, peanut, no need to get feral, not doing anything weird to grumpy's dirt pile, this is no saltburn." He stepped back.

"It's not just him." You said. Wade frowned and looked at the grave. The name Laura Howlett was beneath Logan's.

Even he got speechless.

"What do you want, asshole?" You asked, your claws growing from your nails. "You have a minute before I rip you open".

Well, he wasn't open in half and you were walking with him, so he was convincing, or you were so desperate.

He lied, of course. He didn't told you who you'll have to meet in order to help him, he just said that an X-Men needed help.

Before you can realize, you are dumped in the TVA, and before you can check your side to notice the yellow spandex, you are dumped again into the void.

Wade had knocked you in order to get you into your cian suit, you sighed at the hard spandex around you when you stood up alone in the middle of the Desert. You shaked your hair a bit and began walking, the heat of the place was so freaking uncomfortable, and that suit didn't help either.

"Wade you son of a bitch, this suit is killing m-"

Quiet. You got quiet.

What in the actual fuck?

He was there. Standing in a ridiculous yellow spandex suit, showing his claws inside of Wade as he looked at you. He was there. He.

Whatever emotion was going through you at that moment faded as you frowned at Wade.

"What the fuck is your goddamn problem?" I shoved out your claws from your nails and approached, taking Wade by the neck and sinking your claws into his neck to shove him into the truck there. "What the fuck was going through that empty head of yours?!" You shouted, breathing heavily.

"I thought you'll be happy!" Wade shouted back.

"Happy? I start moving on and you think that what I want to see is my lover in a ridiculous spandex suit? Correction, someone who isn't my lover because he's dead!"

"He is right there, peanut! He is not dead"

"He is not my Logan, not the father of my child!" You shouted in a sarcastic laugh, ignoring the man behind you.

Your Logan. Your child.

What the hell were you talking about? He thought to himself. Not because he didn't now you, but because you were an exact clone of the one he had back in his universe. No change, no modified details.

A clone of you. Of his partner, his lover, his husband.

He was frozen, looking at you while you shouted at Wade things that he wasn't listening anymore. God you were as handsome as he remembered you, he used to love when you shouted to someone (if it was Scott, better). And he could smell your scent, that strong, masculine cologne you used to use that always made his knees shake. It was you, literally you, again, so freaking close to him, enough to scoop you up and take you with him forever.

But that was a ridiculous thought, of course, you weren't really you.

His you.

And maybe the sight of you now made him realize how bad he missed you, how much he had missed that scent of yours, that tone of voice, your hair, your skin, your hands, your eyes. Oh. Those eyes.

And he was trapped with you right there, how was he expected to control himself when you were there? Being as beautiful as you always were.

He still couldn't believe how someone like you could have given him a chance, he was so mean, so rude to everyone, rough and hard as a rock, impossible to cross or see through. But you did, you always did.

You were kind, soft; but also logical and smart when it was necessary. You acted with your brain, and thought with your heart. You were everything he wasn't.

Kind, soft, logical, smart and dead.

But even with that, you were there. He didn't understand pretty well this whole multiverse thing, the only thing he knew was that that wasn't you, but even with that, he longed for you, he was desperate, touch starved; more like you-starved.

He couldn't move, he couldn't speak to you, he was speechless until you looked at him with anger and a hint of affection, love, need, sadness.

"the fuck you looking at?" You said, hardly hidding the crack in your voice.

He sighed. This was going to be long.

Muzzle that dog

Logan Howlett (wolverine) X male reader

⚠️bondage, bottom Logan, dog muzzle, dog play (?), male reader, collar and leash⚠️

🚨 Minors and girls do not interact 🚨

______________________________________________________________

Since Logan has mutated he's become more animal-like. Sometimes he goes feral. He turns into a feral wolf. Especially when he's in heat. Yes. He has heat seasons. Once to two times a year. And by feral I mean feral.

And what does he do when that happens? He locks himself in his cabin that was gifted to him by his friends from Xaviers when he almost broke the school kitchen.

Recently though. His heat has been worse. There's this new guy in the school named Y/n. And he and Logan grew close almost instantly. Logan thinks he's starting to fall in love with him. But he doesn't want to accept it. Not when all the people he loved got hurt because of him.

Now it's October. And to Logan's luck. His heat is starting. And his heat lasts for as long as possible. So he'll have to inform Ororo so she doesn't plan a birthday party as she likes to do because he'll definitely still be in heat during his birthday.

Ororo understood immediately and cancelled her already plan in the works and just gave Logan his birthday present early. Y/n on the other hand. He had a lot of gifts. And he couldn't just give them to Logan in the open. So he waited.

He had a plan.

A horny plan.

Eventually, the date hits October 12th. Logan's been in his cabin for a week now. Currently he's in the middle of the empty room whose flooring is just mattresses. There's a wooden floor underneath obviously but most of the floor is a mattress. Besides the bathroom which is separated by a door opposite of the front door, a kitchen corner that has a classic wooden floor, and a fireplace that is built into a wall but still has enough of a wooden floor in front of it so the mattress wouldn't catch.

It's kind of like a kids dream pillow fort. Other than that the cabin is pretty modern. Obviously paid for by Charles to get it as comfortable as possible.

Logan is sitting in the nest of pillows and blankets. Sweating even though the fire isn't on. He's just staring at a wall. That's until he hears footsteps near his cabin. He doesn't think much of it at first but then he catches a familiar scent. He growls and watches the door hoping that they're not stupid enough to walk in.

Now the cabin is locked yes. But the door is on a password lock. Only Charles and Logan know it. At least that's what Logan thought before the door clicked and opened. And in walked y/n with a big box.

"Morning birthday boy." Y/n grins and closes the door that automatically locks. Logan growls. "What are you doing here Y/L/N."

"Came here to celebrate with my favourite boy." The other mutant said with a smirk and set the box down in front of Logan. "Happy birthday sweaty boy." He joked about Logan's current state.

Now Logan may not look the best. But y/n's isn't complaining. He doesn't mind sweaty body hair and that delicious-looking erection that's standing between Logan's legs. Yes, he's not wearing underwear. He feels like his skin is on fire. Of course, he's not wearing anything.

Logan just watches the other mutant debating if this is a joke or not. Eventually, he reaches for the big box that could fit an old box TV. In the meantime, y/n removes his jacket and looks around the cabin.

Logan looks into the box and sees more boxes, but these are wrapped with birthday-themed wrapping paper. He raised an eyebrow and briefly looked at the other mutant before looking back at the gifts.

He reaches for one of the gifts and rips the paper off. He can feel y/n sit behind him. He's so close Logan can feel the heat radiating off of his body. He also feels that y/n is now shirtless. Logan's hands stopped moving as all of his senses focused on the man pressed against his back.

The other mutant looks over Logan's shoulder. He breathes against his neck and talks in a low murmuring voice "Why aren't you opening it?" Logan shivers at the closeness and feeling of y/n's breath against his neck.

Logan takes a shaky breath and focuses back on the box. Once he fully removed the wrapping paper he used one of his claws to cut the box.

Inside was a handmade leather collar with a loop at the front of it. Logan flushes beet red. His breath hitches as he feels the leather under his fingers. Y/n smirks against Logan's neck. "Open the next one."

The older mutant shakily reaches for another present. He rips off the paper and cuts the box open. Inside is a matching leash. It looks sturdy enough for a good rough tug. Logan's dick twitches at the thought.

Y/n kisses the crook of Logan's neck. Which causes Logan to whimper. But it doesn't sound like a moaning whimper. It sounds like an actual sad dog whimpering.

He reaches for another box wanting to be done already so he can jump on the other mutant's dick. He grabs the present, rips off the paper, and tears the box open. Inside is a dog muzzle.

That's enough for Logan. He pushes the box back and turns around to pounce on y/n. The other mutant laughs and catches Logan. The force of the wolfish man causes them both to fall back on the mattress floor.

Logan whines like a dog as he claims y/n's lips with his own. Y/n caresses his thighs and flips them over. "I take you're happy with your gifts?" He murmured against Logan's lips. The wolfish man whines in response and pulls y/n's face closer.

"Even though you haven't opened the rest of them yet?" He murmured between kisses. Logan huffs. "Just tell me what they are."

"More collars." Y/n hummed and kissed Logan's neck. The wolfish man only shivered and whined. Logan grabbed y/n's head and pulled him into an open kiss. He fought y/n's tongue like an animal.

The other mutant let go of Logan's thigh with one hand and patted around on the floor for the collar. Logan could feel the heat in his body starting to calm down but he still felt like he was on fire because he was being touched by y/n.

Logan suddenly let out a gasp when he felt cold leather wrap around his neck. He looked down and saw the o ring dangling from the front of the collar. He looks up and is met with y/n's hungry eyes. Logan whimpers and squeezes his thighs together.

"Look at you. So beautiful." Y/n murmurs and traces the collar. Logan whines. "Such beautiful sounds. I wonder what sounds you'd make if I..." Y/n's words trail off as he hooks two fingers into the o ring and tugs. Logan gasps and cries out. Those sounds go straight to y/n's groin.

Y/n kisses the collared man and pushes him onto the floor/bed. He reaches for the leash and attaches it to the collar. "Be a good boy for me okay?" Y/n murmured as he kissed down Logan's body. Logan nods.

The other mutant makes his way towards Logan's leaking cock and gives it a kiss. Logan whimpers and bucks his hips up. But y/n pulls back. "Ah ah ah. No moving."

The collared man whimpers and fights the urge to thrust up. So he bites into his hand without much worrying about how hard he's biting. He'll heal. Which he does right after he bites deep into his flesh by accident when he feels y/n's fingers against his hole.

Y/n pushes one lubed finger in which goes in with ease because Logan's wet with slick. As he fingers the whimpering man he kisses and licks his dick. "You taste as delicious as you sound."

Logan whines and thrusts up again. Y/n grumbles and tugs at the leash. The collared man gasps and stops moving. "I said no moving pup," Y/n said as he hovered over Logan. Logan whimpers again.

The other mutant adds a second finger and kisses Logan's neck. The room is filled with whimpers and whines. Each one was louder with each added finger. "Good job pup. Do you think you can ride?" Y/n murmurs as he sits down and pulls Logan into his lap. The collared man nods eagerly and lines up.

Y/n chuckles. "So eager." Y/n teased but let Logan do what he wanted. Logan sank almost instantly the moment he felt the tip enter him. He whines loudly and starts bouncing. The other mutant mons at the instant movement and grabs onto Logan's thighs. "Holly shit pup you're tight."

The collared man whimpers and rests his hands on y/n's shoulders. He bounces and rolls his hips wanting as much friction as possible. Whenever he's in heat it's like he has a constant itch from the inside. And the way y/n's dick is rubbing against his walls it's like the best back scratch anyone could wish for.

Y/n tugged at the leash to pull Logan closer so he could devour his lips. Logan angled his hips in a way that abused his g-spot almost perfectly, and he accidentally bit y/n's lip harshly. Y/n hisses and pulls back. He licks the blood off his lips and his eyes darker with lust.

Logan whimpers out, repeated apologies, but keeps bouncing. The other man growls and reaches for the muzzle. "Bad dog. Who told you you could bite?" That gets Logan to whimper louder. Y/n tugs at the leash. "Stop." He ordered.

Logan whines in protest and keeps bouncing. Y/n shakes his head and tugs again but this time harder. "Don't disobey."

The collared man whines and forces his body to stay still so Y/n can put the cage around his mouth. "Dogs that bite without permission get the muzzle. This is what you get for being a bad puppy." Y/n scolded as he made sure the muzzle is on tight but still comfortable for Logan.

The said man only whimpered in response and looked at y/n with sad puppy eyes and a pouty lip. The other man only shakes his head and leans back on his hands. "Go ahead. Fuck yourself on my cock."

Logan doesn't hesitate to lift and drop down again. He searched for that angle again. Fortunately, it doesn't take long before his head throws back and his cries fill the room. He's so close, but he doesn't want to cum yet, so he holds back.

Y/n has a tight grip with one hand on Logan's thigh and the other hand tightly holds the leash. The muzzled man looks so beautiful like this.

All deliciously wet and red. He's wet for multiple reasons. Sweat that makes his body hair stick together and his hair stick to his forehead, pre cum that's covering his belly due to his dick smacking against it so much, spit on his lips and chin because he forgot how to close his mouth, and tears running down his cheeks due to his amount of overwhelming emotions.

Y/n groans and watches Logan like he's an angel sent from heaven right for him. "Fuck you're so beautiful like this." He praised. "I imagined beauty but not like this." Y/n shamelessly confesses that he's been dreaming of doing this for a while. Logan whines and scratches at the other man's chest.

Y/n hisses and throws his head back. "Fucking beast." He grunts and digs his nails into Logan's thigh that immediately heals any signs of it.

The muzzled man whimpered. "I want to taste you so bad." He said with a sniffle and looked at y/n begging. The other man smirked and sat up. His nose is against the metal of the cage muzzle. "What was that pup?" He teased.

Logan whines. "Wanna taste you." He sounds so sad. Y/m though only smirks wider and licks one of the rods of the metal cage that's keeping their lips separated. The collared man whimpers and pouts.

"aww. Look at you you gorgeous puppy. I almost want to take this muzzle off." He teased, hooked his fingers through the cage, and tugged him closer. Logan cries out at that. He watches the other mutant with desperation.

Y/n kisses the bars and licks the side of the muzzle until he's able to kiss Logan's cheek. "Next time you behave and you'll get what you want." He let go of the muzzle and leaned back again.

The collared man whimpered but kept bouncing. Y/n runs his hand up Logan's thigh until it reaches the round goods of his ass. "I'm going to stuff you so much you won't be in heat for a year." Y/n grunts and meets Logan's bounces by thrusting up into him.

Logan whimpers. He's so close. "I can't hold it anymore." He cried out and spilled all over his belly. Y/n chuckles and watches how the muzzled man shakes with overstimulation because he's not stopping yet. "Just a little more. I'm almost there." Y/n murmurs and lays Logan on his back so he can rest as Y/n does the work.

Which he doesn't do much because his hips are so fucking sore from Logan's adamantium weight. But he makes work with what he can and chases his climax. Which also doesn't take long.

Without moments y/n spills into Logan and collapses on top of him. They both pant and catch their breath. Eventually y/n rolls off of Logan and onto the comfy mattress floor. He pets Logan's hair and slowly removes the muzzle so they can cuddle easier.

This was a mistake because Logan immediately latched himself onto Logan's chest and started marking. But y/n is too tired to bother and just caresses the collared man's hair. "Alright pup slow down." He gives a weak chuckle.

Logan whines but stops his marking. For now anyway. Instead he just nuzzles into y/n. He's as close as much as he can and still not satisfied. It's like he wants to be absorbed by y/n he wants to be close to him in ways that aren't possible.

"it's alright pup I'm not leaving you can rest." Y/n said and lazily caressed Logan's hair. The collared man relaxed and lets his body fall into much needed sleep.

Who's the birthday boy?

This big bright beautiful sunshine!!!!🌻🥹

Happy 56th Birthday, Hugh~🥳🎂

LOGAN, LAURA, AND WADE CONTENT AHHH

Lowkey forgot i blog revealed... anyways thinking of bratty logan jealous of u taking a call =p

You and him are holding each other closely as you lay in bed, him choosing to be the big spoon despite being much smaller than you, and you aren't paying as much attention to him as he'd like. Usually, you'd have your hand in his hair and scratch at his scalp, but you'd been on your phone for the past ten or so minutes and he was getting annoyed by the lack of attention.

So, he began trying to earn it from you. He pressed languid, open-mouthed kisses to your neck as he tried to peer over your body to see what you were holding to more importance than him, but gave up after a few minutes of nothing.

"What're you even doing?" Logan muttered out roughly, earning a hum from you.

"Working things out with my boss. Issue came up, we think it's the new hire's fault but he's pissed at me," you explained, showing Logan the long conversation you were having.

Logan groaned. "Pay attention to me, asshole," he scowled.

Logan bit at your neck. He pressed hickeys and bit down on your pulse points, tongue running over your pulse points and practically scenting you.

"Logan, quit."

"No."

You scoffed and frowned as your boss rang your phone to call. "I have to take this call. Keep quiet."

Logan turned over in the bed and you had felt bad, but he didn't care that you needed to get this done. As you focused on the call, you didn't even notice Logan had turned back... until you felt your boxers being tugged down. You shot an angry look over at Logan, but he only grinned lopsidedly and took your soft cock in his hands.

Logan rubbed you to half-mast and then took you in his mouth. You choked back a gasp and continued the call.

"Y-Yes, I know I was the last to document it, but I wasn't the last to... to handle it," you stammered out as you grasped Logan's hair roughly and helped him swallow you whole. You muted the call, ignoring your ranting boss.

"You fucking slut. You want my boss to hear us? I thought you didn't like sharing," you spat. Logan moaned needily while he choked on your cock, drizzling lube on your free hand's fingers and pumping them.

He blinked up at you with defiance in his eyes, rutting against your leg like a bitch in heat. You pulled him off your now-hard dick and motioned for him to let you prep him.

With just one finger in his tight heat, Logan bit down on his hand as to not squeal. You unmuted as you pushed your index in and out of his asshole and talked to your boss. After three fingers, Logan was breaking and healing his fingers so that he wouldn't make noise, but the second you muted he groaned out, "Fuck me, please, oh—right there, please!"

(Ummm i was gonna finish this but i wanna take a nap so pretend i wrote the rest where he rides you on call 😭😭 maybe ill finish another time)

-faggotblvd, AKA wolverine pussyfucker

I AM GOIJF TO GO FUCKING INSANE WHAT DO YOU MEAN BREAKING AND HEALING HIS FIBGEFS TO KEEP QUIET TTHIS IS THE ABSOLUTE BEST THING IVE RRAD RODAY

Sorry other anon but logan woukd NOT share

Jean and scott? Sure! But reader??? Helllllll no only HE gets to see readers cock

Speaking of.... (cw for wolverines masochism and sexual burning and crazy jealousy and mean reader im gonna yap)

Imagine reader with good dick... like better than Logan's ever felt; size doesnt matter (even if you're big) because somehow you can fuck him perfectly and know what he wants before he even asks.

Overstimulation is tricky because his regeneration gives him insane stamina, so you dont do things over and over but all at once. Vibe ring on his cock, fingering him without lube (the burn is something he can ground himself on) and aiming right for his prostate, and simultaneously digging your other hand's nails on his thigh or chest.

He'd never been taken apart so thoroughly, and he loved whining out your name, telling you he was your boy, being your placid fucktoy before he came all over the sheets.

So imagine how he felt when you suggested letting someone else in to join. He'd feel like shit if he turned it down without trying after you'd explored all the weird kinks he'd found he'd liked after 200 years, so he swallowed the bile in his throat and agreed.

The new guy was... pretty, to say the least. It's like he was everything Logan wasn't. Scrawny, young, and spry. He remembered meeting him before, probably an acquaintance of yours. The thought bothered him that the new guy would see you undressed, but Logan found comfort assuming that you'd probably let the new guy watch first and then he'd take whatever Logan wasn't using.

Logan felt his eye twitch as he heard the new guy request to ride. No. That was Logan's spot, damnit, and he wouldn't let some random kid take away from what he wanted. He bit his tongue, drew blood and swallowed, then retracted and sheathed his claws so the pain would yet again ground him. He watched in discontent as you slid your expert fingers in and out of the other guy's asshole, and once the guy moaned out your name the way only Logan should be able to, he snapped.

Logan ripped the guy off of you and tossed him to the ground, throwing the clothes down beside him.

"I'm not getting cucked. Not now, not ever. Nobody else is gonna see your cock but me," he growled, enunciating by grinding down on you. Suffice to say, you were pissed. The guy was bleeding, Logan's claws nicked him on the way down, all because Logan didn't speak up until you were prepping.

You scoffed and tossed Logan off, showing the poor kid to the door and turning back to Logan.

"Unacceptable shit. You should have said no in the first place, or said no when he asked to ride, or said no when I asked if you wanted it," you snapped. Logan felt his anger fade to guilt—you were right, yeah. Many opportunities to quit.

You lit a cigarette and puffed angrily, ignoring the sad puppy dog eyes he sported. You slumped on the couch and once Logan sat beside you, you finally noticed what he was asking. His wrist was outstretched to you, inviting a burn that he'd almost expected never to come. You chewed on your cheek. He was apologizing.

"Open," you finally said. Logan hurried, opening his mouth eagerly to accept the 'punishment' (it wasn't really, since nothing got him hornier than you being mean) and a moan left his throat when you pulled on his tongue to stretch it out.

Right in the middle, you stamped your quarter-smoked cigarette out on his tongue and followed it with spitting right into his mouth to hear the sizzle of the burning flesh. It healed quickly, so you lit your lighter and heated up the metal around the flame, then pressed it into his wrist, searing the flesh. He brought his blistering wrist to your lips in an invite to lick it, which you obliged before his body could fix the wound.

Logan laughed giddily. Nobody else could see this. Nobody else could feel this. Nobody but him.

-wolverine pussyfucker (the one who brought up jealous logan)

AND WHY DO YOU GUYS LEAVE MASTERPIECES LIKE RHESE IN MY INBOC WHERE IS THE FULL FIC WHY ARENT YOU POSTING THIS THIS IS ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL SUGAR BEE THE AMOUNT OF TIME I REREAD THIS IS EMBARRASSING

I absolutely love a jealous Logan idc if it’s canon or not something about that grumpy bastard being incredibly possessive on the inside makes my cock hard especially him realizing it in the middle of a threesome? Oh Jesus Christ want to comfort and punish him at the same time head spinning need to lay down🧎🏻‍♂️🧎🏻‍♂️🧎🏻‍♂️🧎🏻‍♂️🧎🏻‍♂️

drabble about fucking logan (wolverine) because @embry-garrick implanted it into my brain

synopsis: holy shit u have a big dick n logan is having a field day

cw: riding, size kink, pain kink, reader has a huge dick, anal sex, no prep by choice, unsubstantial lube by choice, unprotected sex by choice, subtop logan dombot reader, established relationship, first time (in the relationship), 2nd person

dni minors, fems/mlm fetishizers, etc

You knew you were massive, that's why way back in high school you were pressured to join sports. You had admirers from both sexes and people would jump at the opportunity to date you in hope that you were as big down there as you were, body wise.

You were, and unfortunately scared off many potential fuck buddies with your size. You vividly remember an ex walking out mid make-out session when they saw your dick, and the situation you were in now was strikingly similar.

That train of thought was bouncing through your head like a pinball machine as you multitasked getting hot and heavy with Logan on the foot of his bed.

"You're distracted. Come on, focus, it's like kissing a brick wall," Logan complained gruffly, hands tangled in your hair as he bit playfully at your jawline to snap you out of whatever thoughts you were in.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Sorry. Maybe we're going a little fast?" you suggested, meeting his lips again as you attempted to focus on him.

"You're fuckin' kidding me. No, we've been dating for months, I'm ready," Logan disagreed. "You got something you're worried about?"

"No," you muttered, shaking your head to get the thoughts out. You steeled yourself to focus and gripped Logan's waist to pick him up and move him into your lap. He eagerly ground down onto your quickly hardening cock, groaning into your mouth as he felt the pants you were in tighten.

Logan quickly took off his own shirt and hurried to remove yours. Once the clothing was gone, he abandoned kissing your lips to kiss your neck and moved down your collar. He sighed and his eyes fluttered closed as he felt both of your hands snake in two different directions; one down to squeeze his ass and the other up to grip his hair.

"Need you. Been waiting long enough, want you in me. Wanna ride you," he whispered into your ear.

"Logan, I'm big," you warned warily, earning a confused pause.

"Big? Damn right you are. What's your point?" he grumbled, trying to get back to imminently fucking.

"My dick is big. I've had people up and leave because of it, so—"

"Well aren't you self-assured? Babe, let me judge if I want to get fucked or not," Logan answered playfully as he pressed tender kisses over your jawline to make up for the bites. "C'mon. You think I'm shy of a big dick?"

As you tugged off his pants, he undid your button to reciprocate and froze as he stared at your half-hard cock straining the fabric of your boxers.

"What's that, six inches? I mean, I can take it," he huffed, his face a mask of bravado. He pulled your pants all the way off and swallowed. "Okay... little more than six inches..."

Logan stroked you to hardness, muttering out quiet curses and "come on, come on... fuck," as he was eager to feel you. You were completely hard in just a few strokes, but his rough hand and the lack of any lubricant made you shy from the touch.

"Logan? Lube?" You reminded, to which he growled.

"Don't need it, bub."

"Yes you do! At the very least, I need it!" You protested.

"Relax," he rolled his eyes and attempted to take you in his mouth, but instead just let some spit dribble down since he'd ravish you with his mouth later. "Happy?"

"Let me prep you."

"Hell no."

Logan pushed your shoulders to the bed and hovered over you, to which you fished in your pants for a condom. "No condom, Lo,"

"Good."

"Go get one."

"Hell no," he repeated.

"You're gonna tear yourself," you said, sitting up.

"I can take it. I can take you. Just lay down," Logan demanded, to which you scoffed.

"Fine. It's not my bed that's getting blood all over, anyways."

Logan perched over you and lined your dick up, hissing as the wet head grazed his hole. "You're gonna be the end of me..."

"Fuck... fuck! Slower!" You demanded, worrying for Logan's poor body despite the fact that he healed instantaneously.

Among the shrill gasps and low groans, Logan uttered out a gravelly, "Please, just let me have this. You're splitting me in half, fuck, [Y/n], you're gonna make me cum like a virgin."

You grabbed Logan's hips and forced him to slow down, he was barely even a third of the way down and already tears were collecting in his eyes. "Easy, Logan," you said, but he suddenly grabbed your wrists and forced himself down to the base of your cock, a punched-out moan escaping his throat followed by a series of whimpers and gasps as he caught his breath. A hot stream of cum spurted from his unattended cock and onto your chest.

"Logan? You're bleeding. And you came..."

"I don't care. Fuck me like a man," Logan rasped out as he steeled himself to begin moving his hips.

Logan waking up from a nightmare with Mary Puppins impaled on his claws for once instead of Wade and instantly having to drop the “I hate this rat dog” act because they don’t actually know if Dogpool regenerates or not

(She does) (Logan still fucking cries like a baby and holds her while she slobbers all over him)

Shorty

Logan Howlett (Wolverine) X male reader

⚠️size difference, bottom Logan, top reader, Logan is 5'3 like in the comics, outside sex⚠️

🚨 Minors and girls do not interact 🚨

Y/sp/n = superhero name

______________________________________________________________

Logan may not seem like it. But he's 5'3. Yes. 160 cm. You read that correctly. He's the shortest one of the X-men. But he doesn't mind. He's got cool claws that like to cut the flesh of annoying people.

Speaking of annoying. Here's y/n y/l/n. Also know as y/sp/n. Or as Logan calls him. Dick.

Y/n is currently in the large garden of the Xavier mansion. All of the kids and teachers are out in a museum. Besides y/n and Logan. Conveniently.

"Hey, shorty." Y/n smirks as he sees Logan walking up to him. Logan huffs in response. "Don't be like that." The taller man teased and ruffled the smaller man's perfect cat ears hair.

"hey!" Logan smacks the hand away and tries to fix his hair. Y/n chuckles and looks at the ducks on the lake. Logan sits next to him and also watches the ducks.

"It's weird being in school without the kids." The shorter man said. The taller man nods and leans back. "But it's peaceful."

"What should we do? We have the whole school for ourselves." Y/n asked as he looked behind himself at the mansion. Logan shrugs and looks at y/n.

Suddenly the shorter man's mind starts to spin with not so family friendly thoughts. "I might have a few ideas... But they're not really built for school." He mumbled with a hit of a growl in his voice.

The taller man looks at him. "Oh?" He doesn't get a chance to guess what Logan's ideas might be before the smaller man straddles his thighs and catches his lips in a hungry kiss.

Y/n moans In surprise and grips Logan's thighs to hold him in place. Soon, his eyes flutter closed, and his body leans into Logan's.

Their minds race. Partly because of the adrenaline but also because of the size difference. Logan is so small in y/n's lap. Sure, he's hairier and more masculine, but he's so easy to hold. He's not easy to lift. Y/n doesn't even try to move Logan because the way his legs are growing numb under the adamantium weights tells him enough not to bother.

"So small." The taller man breathed out into Logan's neck as he enjoyed the way his arms wrapped around Logan so easily.

"Fuck you," Logan grunts as he reaches for y/n's belt. "You're about to." The taller man said with a smirk. Logan groans in annoyance but lifts to remove his pants. Y/n chuckles and takes himself out of his pants and strokes it. He spreads his precum down the shaft as he watches the shorter man with hunger.

"Look at you. Already leaking and I haven't even touched it yet." Logan scoffed and sat back in the taller man's lap.

Y/n immediately latched onto Logan's neck and used his second hand to stroke the shorter man's dick. Who, by the way, is packing.

The shorter man groans and tangles his fingers in the other man's hair. "So fucking eager aren't you."

Y/n continued to furiously stroke both of them off as he marked Logan's neck, which immediately healed. But he keeps trying anyway. Maybe one will stay. Logan only groans and tugs at the taller man's hair.

Eventually, Logan grows impatient and pushes y/n onto the grass. The taller man grunts with the landing but doesn't complain when Logan lines up with his dick. Instead, he rests his big hands on Logan's thighs. Which are big with muscle but y/n's hand still covers most of it.

The shorter man sinks down. They both groan in pleasure. "holy shit Logan you're tight." Y/n grunts and digs his nails into Logan's thighs.

Logan lets out a deep breath once he is fully seated. He takes some time to relax and get used to being filled after so long. Y/n whines and thrusts up. Which makes Logan lose balance and fall on the taller man's chest. He wanted to scold him and sit up again, but long arms wrapped around him and held him in place.

The taller man buried his face in the shorter man's hair and started thrusting up into him. Logan digs his claws into the dirt on each side of y/n. He kisses and bites the taller man's shoulder to muffle his moans.

Y/n plants his feet into the grass for better leverage to thrust up. With the way y/n's thrusting, it makes Logan's knees weak.

None of them talk, they can barely form a word. The taller man keeps his arms tightly wrapped around the shorter man. While Logan flights the urge to bite into y/n's shoulder, and y/n shamelessly digs his nails into the smaller man.

They both moan into each other's skin and shake with pleasure. "I'm close." Logan whines. And fuck if that didn't want y/n to want to do everything that would let him hear it again. So he tries to angle his hips. Spot on. He finds the right spot that makes Logan whine none stop.

"Fuck fuck fuck." Logan bites down on y/n's shoulder. The taller man screams out and spills deep into Logan. The shorter man whimpered and spilled over their shirts. Y/n hold Logan tighter as they catch their breath.

"We should do this again," y/n murmured. Logan grunts. "In your dreams..."

heart wrecking angst⇩

•

•

•

In Deadpool 4, Logan discovers his presence in Wades universe messes up cycle of events and if he continues to live in it— the universe can collapse (butterfly effect kind of thing), so in the end of the movie B-15 and minute men show up dramatically a they do at Wades apartment, and escort Logan back into the headquarters planning to send him back to his “home”. Both Logan and Wade see the scale of this, and Wade soon is taken to talk to him one last time before never seeing him again since B-15 felt generous that day. So she give them this moment.

Wade scoffs: So now is the time? Hah, I should’ve known, TVA has every event written down to nanoseconds… I swear, it puts someone’s strict mother’s skill to plan the whole year in advance and never let her kid see the light of day without her permission at shame!

All that while Logan looks at him. Though he has so much to say, to confess, but decides not to do it, maybe because it’ll hurt letting him go more than it already is.

Wade approaches him: I… ugh, was not prepared, otherwise I would’ve pulled out my 100 page essay and read it to you in British accent as you walk further away from me into the sunset.

Logan: Wade?

Wade: Yeah?

Logan struggles. What is there to say now? His heart is aching, and cracks with each passing second there’s left. He wanted to say his life was at its fullest by Wade’s side, how he’s now changed man, all because of him. For him. That he will continue being that person in his world simply because Wade will be proud.

Logan: I might have my own place, my house and whatnot… But I never dared to call it my home, y’know?

Wade listens, no longer daring to quip a sound. And hazel eyes of Logan glisten in nothing but sadness. If that emotion could be painted— it would be him. Right now.

Logan: I wish the world was on my side, fair to me, to us, Wade.

His voice shakes. And he no longer cares to control the tear that soon oozes out the corner of an eye, to his hope, telling at least a tenth of all what his heart wants to say. Then it finally hits merc. Is this really it?

Wade: Peanut, I promise, it’s okay.

No. It fucking hurts. Wade never hated to say goodbye so damn much like now, but understands, that to love someone is letting them go.

He’s only doing it for Logan, for his universe. Sure there’s something that’s waiting for him, something better than this. Which what Logan deserves, after non consensual involvement in Wade’s goal to save his own world. After what he had been through.

Logan softly sobs: It shouldn’t be, I wish I had a choice. Because coming back is long time off my list.

Wade realizes his emotions reveal, a hot heavy tear drops off his chin, and fake but bitter smile grows to comfort Wolverine. Ignoring everything what’s falling into pieces in his chest.

Wade: I just… I just never want you to get into dangerous shit cause of me. I want you to be okay.

But Logan doesn’t care, even if his old life promises to be as peaceful as Swedish government. In the end, being next to Wade— suddenly makes chaos worth it.

Logan: I was okay, Wade, I was… so happy— but as soon as my foot steps through the teleporter…

Logan breaks as more tears rush down his face. His gaze locked with Wade’s.

Logan: … I will comeback being the same pitty guy you picked up at the bar.

But Wade protests.

Wade: No, nope, you’ll comeback better than ever.

He gives up smiling, then reaching out for the man, locking him in the most loving hug, arms wrapping waist, one digging fingertips into the shirt, and second one cards Logan’s hair. Which makes older man hate himself for not hugging Wade often before, when they were so happy, and lived under one roof not knowing this day would come.

Wade: You are, and always will be the best wolverine.

Logan hides his face in Wade’s neck, ashamed someone might see him, how destroyed he is with pain of leaving him, forever.

Wade: Thank you infinitely, for staying, saving my world.

Wade’s hushed voice sends chills, and throat begins to burn, yearning to say one last thing as he hears footsteps approaching.

Logan: Thank you for becoming mine.

(lmk if you’re interested in me writing full fic based off of this💛❤️)

You promised!

Summary: Reuniting with someone from the past. It doesn't go as planned.

Pairing: Logan x G!N Reader (platonic) x Deadpool x G!N Reader (Platonic)

Warning: Smoking, language, death, death threats, Angst

maybe some bad grammar and wrong punctuation.

(sorry if Deadpool isn't funny enough)

That night still haunts you, the screams echo in your ears, and the pile of your friends' dead bodies that you had to dig your way out of still makes your skin crawl. Fortunately, your ability to summon/ commune with the dead also gave you the power of immortality. 

You did everything you could to help but you were just a kid…your heart racing trying to find the one person who you thought could protect you…your kitten. Of course, he would rather be at a stupid bar than wear the stupid yellow spandex. When he came stumbling back where he found you covered in ash crying. Sadness turned into spite, how could he leave you? He promised to keep you safe! 

You couldn’t stand the sight of him…so you ran. That was the last time you saw Logan..or so you thought.

You tried to use your powers to conjure your friend's spirits but you couldn’t.

Years passed, and you lived a normal life. Until some weirdo with outdated references wearing a red spandex suit was in your apartment building lobby. He cut you off at the stairs spreading both his arms out so you couldn’t walk around him “Well hello pookie” The weirdo welcomed you as you glared at him “Do I know you?” You muttered, reaching into your messenger bag to grab something that could be used as a weapon. You were in no mood for what this ass has to say. The weirdo stood more relaxed “I’m Deadpool aka Marvel Jesus” the Spandex introduced, you raised an eyebrow “What? Marvel Jesus? What the fuck?” you wondered making Deadpool gasp at you “Oh just spit in my face! Did my peanut teach you that?! You’re too young to be speaking like a drunken sailor” Deadpool declared, clenching his nonexistent pearls. You wondered why he acted like you knew his peanut? If his friends were half as annoying as him then you doubt that you knew them.

Deadpool booped your nose making you swat his hand “My, my aren’t you a violent child” Deadpool teased, if he kept doing this Applebee's comedy night routine you were gonna need a joint. You dug through your bag, grabbed a joint from the container you kept, and lit the one in your hand. “I need your help saving the multiverse from this asshole named Paradox which is the stupidest name ever!” Deadpool announced, and you raised an eyebrow “The multiverse?” You repeated in disbelief that what this man was saying was true. You blew a cloud of smoke into Deadpool’s masked face, “as much as I would like to inhale secondhand smoke” the comedic took the joint out of your hand “I’m gonna need you to be sharp” Deadpool explained pressing the lit part of the joint on the no smoking sign. You crossed your arms “to save the multiverse?” You laughed, at this point you were expecting that you were on a prank channel.

Deadpool's whole demeanor changed “The point cupcake, is that everyone I care about will die if we don’t stop that asshole Paradox.” Deadpool was serious, there was no funny tone in it. You released a heavy sigh, ever since the fire you were done with all that heroic shit “Why me?” You wondered, he could have picked an actual crime fighter “Why you?! You’re Y/N! You were a part of Baldilock's merry band” Deadpool reminded you. The memories of when you were an X-men in training that you tried so hard to forget came rushing back, you tilt your head your eyes threw daggers at the dickhead in front of you who the fuck did he think he was making a joke about your friends.

You scoffed “it’s Deadpool, right?” You asked clenching your fists, the jackass got all giddy “Oh my god! Y/N remembers my name!” The mercenary exclaimed as if he was meeting Hugh Jackman. You grabbed him by his chest and pulled him towards you till you were inches apart “Get out of my way or I’m going to ram your head through a damn wall” you threatened beneath your breath.

Deadpool didn’t look intimidated, he looked over his shoulder “I can see why you like her, Peanut!” Deadpool yelled as if that was a queue. You heard footsteps coming down the stairs, you released the mercenary from your grip “You can thank Marvel H. Christ later” Deadpool patted you on the back before standing in front of the door that leads into the streets. Your heart sank into your stomach, Did this guy want you so badly that he brought someone with him to rough you up?!

The backup descended the stairs, and when his face came into view you froze, Your eyes glossed no, not him…anyone but him. You hoped this was just a nightmare, you kept pinching yourself hoping you would wake up in your apartment…but nothing happened, he was here.

 Logan gave you a warm smile “Hi, bub” he took a small step towards you, but you took a step back “Don’t!...don’t call me that!” your voice muttered, why would he think that it would be okay for him to call you that?! “Bu-kid, we need your help” Logan begged in a hushed tone like you were going to agree because the alcoholic asked nicely. You started to laugh “You…think…I’ll go…anywhere… with you?” You asked in between, you had to hold your stomach because you were laughing so hard. Deadpool took a step towards you two “Hi, sorry to interrupt but I’m kinda on a time crunch so can we-“ “Shut the fuck up!” You and Logan yelled in unison, Deadpool stepped back.

You looked back at Logan ”Y/N I’m so sorry” Logan apologized, you glared at him “That’s it?! That’s all you can say?! You went to get fucked up instead of being there…and all you can say is your sorry?!” You scoffed; it was like putting a band-aid over a bullet wound. It does nothing. You felt all the old feelings you tried to suppress seep through “I know and I’ll hate myself for that for my entire life” Logan admitted, you shook your head pinching the bridge of your nose to contain your emotions, trying not to cause a scene that would get the neighbors attention, “I can’t do this” you mumbled re-adjusting your messenger bag on your shoulder. 

Your eyes glossed as you tried to make it to the stairs but Logan blocked your path “Logan, please just step to the side. I don’t want to do this” Your voice cracked

“I can’t do that, Y/N”

“Just please move”

“I can’t kid” 

“Please move Logan”

“Bub, Please!”

“GET OUT OF MY FUCKING WAY!”

Tears started to run down your cheeks your fist pounded against Logan's chest “Move” you weakly repeated, he didn’t budge or fight back. You felt as powerless as you did the night of the fire. You felt like you were one big joke to the universe.

 Logan tried to wrap his arms around you but you pushed yourself away from him, “Y/N” Logan called, you didn’t let him say more of his half-ass apology “Why weren’t you there?” you wondered crossing your arms over your chest, you remembered that he went to the bar but you wanted him to admit it. The man in front of you never answered, your eyes glossed “Why weren’t you there?! I needed you and you weren’t fucking there! You promised me that you would protect me! I trusted you! I looked up to you! You were my hero!” You admitted wrapping your arms around yourself as tears ran down your cheeks once again. Logan looked like he was on the verge of tears himself “I’m sorry, I’m here now” Logan promised, You shook your head “I don’t need you now! I needed you back then! Where were you…when I needed you?” You stated you noticed some people were opening their doors. 

Your eyes met Logan “I hate you” you sniffled, and Logan's lip quivered “I wish you would kill yourself, you would be doing me and everyone else in this world a fucking favor” Your tone was emotionless, Logan was taken back even Deadpool was speechless. You were emotionally drained, this time you successfully pushed past Logan and ran upstairs to your apartment.

You slammed the door Bang! You threw your bag on the ground and jumped into your bed shoving your face into your pillow to muffle your cries. You hate him. You hated that you trusted him. You wished you never met him. 

Back in the Lobby

Logan kept staring at the stairs silently hoping that you were going to come back down, hoping that you had a change of heart and the two of you could start over, a single tear escaped down his cheek. 

Wade stepped towards the Wolverine, “Why didn’t you tell her that those sons of bitches could fix your shit?” the mercenary wondered, Logan wiped away his tear before looking at that red fucker “They’ve been through so much…I didn’t want to get their hopes up. It’s not like they would believe me anyway” Logan admitted Wade placed his hand over his heart “Aw look whose heart grew three sizes” Wade mocked, making the Wolverine glare at him. Wade internally panicked, he needed Logan since he was an anchor beam and it’s not like this Logan could start fresh with the Y/N from his universe since they're dead. Meaning that Wade had to come up with something and fast.

Wade groaned making Wolverine snap his head toward him “This is the worst episode of Dr.Phil ever!” Wade whined. Wade grabbed Logan “You stay here and I’ll go talk to your precious Y/N who left like they were about to cut their hair, okay Peanut” Wade explained, surprisingly Logan agreed. Wade skipped towards the stairs. Wade saw some neighbors snooping “Yes children it’s Moi. Nothing to see here” Wade assured, he was about to introduce the peepers to Baby Knife but the peeping toms got the hint and closed their doors.  

As Wade reached Y/N’s apartment he tried to figure out how to persuade them to join him and his Peanut. He needs them to say yes so he can save his family.

"Good morning, peanut~💛"

good morning/afternoon/evening, I loved your writing and it's so good to see someone paying attention to a top male reader, and if it's not too much trouble, could you do an edgeshot x male reader, where edgeshot arrives from a mission After a long time, all you want is to see your lover and make up for lost time, in a kind and loving way.

Together again

edgeshot/shinya kamihara x male reader

You see your lover after a while.

fluff, nsfw

Another day without seeing your partner, you’ve missed him but you know what he’s doing. He is out saving everyone and anyone in need. Though you’re the one in need….

Sighing as you laid on the bed, staring at your cellphone and scrolling, watching anything that came up. You were bored out of your mind, and slightly tired. You did plenty this morning, make yourself breakfast, clean around a bit, then binge watch anything you thought was entertaining, then showered and are finally now on your bed.

You hummed as your ear perked up at the sound of your front door opening, smiling softly as you knew who had finally come home. Hearing heavy and tired footsteps walking down the hall and opening your bedroom door, your eyes landed on your partner.

“Tired?” You asked, smirking as how ruined he looked. “Very.” He mumbled, sitting on the bed before dropping to lay down, letting out a grunt. You chuckled as you got closer, hands reaching to comb through his white-ish hair, hearing him softly groan.

“How was your hero work?” You asked, caressing him gently, knowing how tired he must be. “Good, many lives were saved.” He whispered, feeling you remove his mouth gear. “You should change, I’m sure you want to be in comfortable clothing.” You mumbled, kissing his lips. He hummed, smiling at your affection. He nodded before sitting up, removing his clothing.

You saw what he did, seeing his bare body for the first time in a while. You couldn’t stop your bulge from forming. Pent up feelings ready to leave. “I’m so exhausted.” You heard him whisper, seeing him pause for a moment, sitting only in his underwear. You hummed as you sat behind him, your legs being beside his hips, hands wrapping themselves around his shoulders.

“I missed you.” You whispered, eager lips going to kiss his nape, feeling him shiver. “I did too.” He responded, his cheeks becoming a bit warm. Your lips continued to kiss his bare body, before standing up and staring down at him.

“Are you too exhausted?” You asked, fingertips pushing your lover down onto the bed. Shinya bit his lip, eyebrows furrowing a bit. You could see his bulge forming slowly, while yours was already there, boxers tight and uncomfortable, cock twitching in need of friction or anything.

Your pro hero looked at you with slight eagerness, before glancing away. You grinned at that, he was always slightly nervous when you two were going to conduct sexual acts together.

Humming, you moved in between his legs, before moving your upper body lower, chest against chest pressing together, your bulge poking his covered entrance. Edgeshot shivered slightly, before whining when he felt your teeth bite his neck, suckling on it. “Show me how much you missed me.” He whispered, blushing feverishly from what he said.

His hands gripped your strong shoulder, nails poking your skin. You grunted as your hips started rolling against him, failing your resistance and doing their own thing, searching for your lover’s hole and warmth.

Edgeshot moaned lowly, his own hips grinding after yours. “Yes…” he whispered seductively, blushing as he closed his eyes, feeling and hearing everything.

You huffed as your pulled away from his now bruised up neck, looking at your partner, seeing how red he looked, and nervous. “Faster?” You whispered, kissing his lips and making his eyes flutter open. “Faster.” He spoke softly, before moaning a bit more, feeling you grind harsher and quicker against him.

Hips burned as both of you were grinding on each other, underwear getting stained with pre. Edgeshot groaned as his arms wrapped themselves around your neck, bringing you closer. Your face hid onto the crook of his neck, hearing his frantic breaths as he was close, so were you.

At the same time, you both came in your underwear, so much came out of you as you were so pent up, a bit upset on how much cum you wasted, would’ve been better if it was inside your lover.

Kamihara huffed as his chest rose and lowered, regaining his breath. He grabbed his underwear, lowering it onto his knees, before turning onto his stomach. He wanted more, and you knew you did too.

Your hands grabbed his plump ass, squeezing and kneading it. Hearing your husband’s soft groans and gentle moans leaving his lips. “Please, fuck me already.” He demanded, his hands grabbing a pillow so he can rest his against it.

You chuckled and nodded, “I was gonna do it anyways, I can’t resist you.” You spoke, dick sliding between his cheeks. Slicking it up real good as you kept leaking. “Even after so long.” Mumbling towards the end.

“Do you want to prep..?” “No, I missed you so much, please.” You heard him answer, looking at you from the side. Following his command, you grabbed your cock, head at the entrance.

“Alright..” You whispered, biting your lip as you pushed the head inside him, hearing your partner gasp softly, seeing his legs perk up. Slowly, your hips moved forward, feeling the raw tightness of your lover, it made you want to fuck him senseless, and maybe you were.

Edgeshot hummed as his hands gripped the pillow case, waiting for you to stop moving so he could breathe, you did, for a few seconds that is.

……

Edgeshot whimpered as he felt you pounding his insides gently, seeing his ass jiggle and recoil made you so horny. You bit your lip as you panted, hearing how your partner moaned quietly and submissively, gripping the pillow as you sped up.

“Ah! O-oh fuck… keep going.” He begged of you, moaning a bit louder, feeling how good you stuffed him with just your cock. You groaned as you continued fucking him, the sound of skin against skin slapping each other was so good.

Shinya’s back was beautifully arched, his insides swallowing you whole and sucking you inside him. He whined as he grabbed your arms that were wrapped around his waist, gripping them hard.

You grunted as you leaned down against him, your chest pressing against his glistening back. Your hips went faster, hearing Edgeshot moan in return. You were close, and you knew your lover was, too.

“F-fuck… keep going, I’m close…” He whimpered, moaning ‘yes’ and your name repeatedly. His dick was leaking continuous pre cum. His face was red as his hair was a mess along the sheets, some strands stuck to his sweaty skin.

“O-oh! A-ah… mmmm…” He moaned so beautifully, like an actor. Your cock dug deep inside him, before giving final thrusts and finally releasing inside him.

You both let out a moan, panting out of sync. Edgeshot’s hips rolled against your cock, your hips subconsciously thrusting inside him to stuff your cum deep in him. “Guess you really needed that badly, huh?” You replied breathlessly, seeing the big stain left on the sheets by him.

Edgeshot groaned as he felt you pull out, his hole twitching and needing more, but his mind passed out. You heard him silently snore, before caring for him afterwards.

TRAINING WHEELS. logan howlett / dom! top! m. reader

→ logan’s new to the team & you decide to show him the ropes

warnings. nsfw content / unprotected sex / somnophilia / <mild> breath play / <mentions & depictions of> hazing / age gap between ADULTS / <mild> feminization / nipple play <?> / light degradation <chara. receiving> / analingus / orgasm control / masturbation <chara.> / blowjob <r. receiving> / full nelson position / not proof read ( sorry )

notes. he’s been on my mind word count. 2K

LOGAN IS NOT a heavy sleeper; he’d begun to stir the moment the mattress dipped under your weight. The lids of his eyes are still heavy with exhaustion ⸻ and his gaze is not quite as clear as it ought to be.

“What are you…” he pauses mid–sentence, his voice a rough, low sound that would’ve caused anyone else to reconsider what they’d intended to do.

He’d meant to ask you what you were doing but the rest of his sentence was caught in his throat with his breath when you’d aligned the head of your cock with his entrance.

“I’m taking responsibility for what I’d said to you earlier,” you respond, voice low and all matter–of–fact like it’s obvious as you penetrate him.

It doesn’t hurt nearly as much as he thought it ought to ⸻ not that it didn’t hurt at all, because it did. Rather, it felt as though his… well, insides adjusted to suit your cock like it’d existed solely for that purpose.

You didn’t seem particularly opposed to that notion either; leaning forward to curl your calloused fingers around the base of his throat as he took your cock to the hilt.

The action itself didn’t impede his ability to breathe; on the contrary, it appeared to be a silent assertion of superiority. Something that, oddly enough, left him feeling disappointed but he didn’t or, rather, couldn’t linger on that thought (or much else for that matter) when you began to thrust into him.

“Do you remember what I’d said to you?”

Your voice again, taking on an even lower cadence beside the shell of his ear, as you pull your cock out of his puffy entrance only to force it back past the ring of muscle again.

He doesn’t respond though.

WHEN LOGAN COMES TO for the second time ⸻ or, rather, the first time he’d thought that he ought to be in another dream.

The heavy lids of his eyes had given way to the dim lighting of the back seat of a car; the one just behind the passenger seat up front. It took a moment to adjust to the dimness of the lighting but he was certain that this wasn’t where he’d fallen asleep and, as if reading his thoughts, you confirm as much.

“I take it you had a nice dream?” You more or less hum, glancing at him through the rear–view mirror although you’d reasonably not see much, “I feel a little wronged, you know, ‘cause it took so much effort to drag your ass into the back of the car and here you are, having the time of your life.”

If you’d meant it to be a genuine complaint, he couldn’t tell and never could, to be honest, tell whether or not he should take you seriously. So, he doesn’t necessarily acknowledge what you’d said with anything more than a low, non-committal grunt.

“Where are you ⸻ no, why the fuck am I in the back seat of a car right now?”

Unlike his dream, he gets all of his words out this time around with what he deems a sufficient amount of irritation.

Whether or not it’d actually been a sufficient amount of irritation was up for debate though since it appeared to have gone completely and utterly over your head.

“You’re still new to the ranks, old man,” You sing–song in response, sounding all the more enthusiastic, “… and a little hazing should be expected, no?” as the car’s prior steady gliding forward on what he presumed to be a sparsely populated road came to an abrupt end.

There’s that matter–of–fact tone again; He truthfully didn’t know whether or not he should laugh, cry, or even give the content of his dream some deeper thought.

Now, though, wasn’t exactly the time to consider the absurdity of the past… however long.

“The task is relatively simple,” You continue, your voice taking on a more serious but not quite that sound as you address him, “… all you have to do is find your way back to camp before the sun rises and don’t do anything stupid, you’re being watched.”

‘CAMP’ IS EXACTLY as the name implies  ⸻ a collection of, for the lack of a better word, tents and in the heart of summer, it’s one hell of a place to be even when the sun is replaced by its more forgiving counterpart.

Thus, a layer of sweat visible to all clings uncomfortably to the curves and contours of Logan’s body as he trudges towards your tent.

“You must’ve kissed a superior’s ass to become a Lieutenant, right?” It’s more of an accusation to vent his frustration than a genuine question on Logan’s part but you respond as though to satiate his curiosity nevertheless.

“I can’t say that I’ve done it for the sake of a promotion,” You smile, all wolf–like and if Logan were in a better mood, he’d say a little charismatically too.

He doesn’t respond to that and thus you continue.

“You tryin’ to call me an ass–kisser, rookie?” You chuckle, the sound a combination of genuine amusement and something else, as you approach him, holding his chin between your thumb and index finger.

He is a rookie, technically speaking, of course, but hearing the word roll off your tongue makes him feel strange ⸻ naturally a little annoyed but there’s something else there that he can’t quite put his finger on.

You, on the other hand, are more than comfortable with placing your fingers anywhere you like.

“I like to think of myself as someone who’s very… literal, I suppose?” You continue, lowering the palm of one of your hands to grope the curve of his ass, “… but that’s enough of that; the sun rose before you made it back to camp so it’s only fair that I punish you for your failure.”

“Punish…?” He repeats after you, his voice sounding a little wispy as you close the distance between the two of you, hand groping his ass and all.

“Don’t take it to heart, we all fail sometimes,” You shrug with a wave of your hand as if that ought to be the main issue, “… and you were practically moaning my name in the car so I guess I’m a little curious about what you were dreaming about too.”

The dream, of course, hadn’t exactly slipped his mind as opposed to him forcing himself to not think about it given his circumstances at the time.

He’d walked for… who knows how long before slipping into a 24/7 gas station’s restroom to relieve himself of the throbbing of his cock because of the stupid thing.

It wasn’t exactly ideal but what else could he have done if not lowering his sweatpants and boxers to palm himself until the angry head of his cock spurted ropes of cum into the toilet?

Now, though, he was standing in front of you and could feel your erection against his.

“This was a little too easy for my liking,” Your voice again, just like in his dream, but this isn’t a dream, now, is it? You were calling him easy and instead of being annoyed he couldn’t help but allow a moan to slip past his parted lips much to your delight.

“I can make an exception though,” You continue, moving the both of you towards your desk before bending him over and making a show of kneeling behind him and lowering his sweatpants and underwear.

Logan is… relatively silent; he doesn’t respond to any of your questions but he does let out a string of profanities beneath his breath as you spread his cheeks, dragging your tongue from his balls up to the entrance of his ass as the tight ring of muscle spasms in response to your affection.

“I can’t believe you’re fucking⸻” He pauses mid–sentence, his thighs trembling beneath his weight, as you alternate between sucking, kissing and occasionally biting the surrounding flesh.

The sound of his voice doesn’t necessarily catch you off guard but it’s enough to get you to pull away from his ass, wiping the string of saliva still connecting you to his winking hole with the back of your palm before responding, “… kissing your ass? I already told you that I’m a very literal person and I don’t do this for a promotion.”

You sound almost… exasperated and Logan has half the mind to turn around and punch you in the face but your tongue is sliding past that ring of muscle and it’s so strange but not unwelcomed.

He couldn’t bring himself to oppose you ⸻ not when your tongue was moving in and out of his ass like that; and especially not when the slit on the head of his cock was leaking so much pre–cum.

When you eventually pull away from his ass, he finds himself whimpering at the loss; pushing back against where your mouth should have been. It’s almost pathetic enough to make you want to indulge him but it’s meant to be a punishment. 

Thus, Logan finds himself kneeling between your spread legs moments later. He’s pressing his chest together, a mediocre crease forming between them as you stare down at him, amused.

“They’re so…” You pause, tilting your head to the side as you lazily palm your own throbbing cock (all the while neglecting his), “big, you know?” as warmth gathers beneath the surface of his skin.

He’s not an idiot, he knows what you’re implying.

“Jesus,” You whistle, “you have such pretty tits,” as you align your cock with the entrance of the crease before sliding up into it.

“I’m not a fucking⸻” He protests, silenced only by the fistful of his hair you grab as you respond, “I’m only saying what I see, soldier. Now, be a good boy for me and I’ll consider giving that cock of yours some attention.”

‘When did you get so… stern?’ He’d thought of this at that moment but couldn’t think of much else beyond the sensation of your cock gliding between his… ‘tits’ as you’d called them and the voice in the back of his head telling him to be a good boy for you and squeeze his chest together some more.

Logan had always trusted his intuition in his earlier years so that’s what he does. He indulges you, and by extension, himself as he feels every bump, curve, or vein on your cock against his skin until you’re painting his chest white.

“I should’ve done this a lot sooner,” You breathe out after a moment of silence, your breathing evening out as you move over to your swivel chair before motioning for him to join you.

UNLIKE HIS DREAM, he’s made to suck you off first.

Your cock is heavy on his tongue; he’s never done this before though so it’s all a little clumsy ⸻ the way he hollows his cheeks and tries his hardest to avoid his teeth grazing you as saliva escapes his mouth, gathering just above his collarbone.

It’s cute, though, and is even cuter when you begin to touch his weeping cock. He’s like an obedient little dog; one that’s all bark and minimal bite.

Every time you touch him, his body tenses and he trembles. Thus, you decide that he ought to be closer to you and have him straddle your lap instead.

When you align yourself with his entrance, you can tell that he’s nervous so you take your time and ease into him. It’s uncomfortable for the both of you, him more so than you, you’re sure so there’s no need to rush it either.

There’s no stopping you once you’ve both adjusted though. His back is to your chest and his knees are to his chest as you thrust up into him. He’s a big guy but you’ve folded him in half nevertheless and Logan’s loving every moment of it.

Strings of little ‘uh–uh–uh’s fall from his lips like a mantra as ropes of cum shoot from the head of his cock; a release that he’d so desperately craved but couldn’t even wrap his head around at the moment.

“You’ll be okay,” You hum as you press a kiss to the side of his sweaty temples, “I’ll welcome you to the ranks myself, I don’t think I want to share you with the others.”

okay but what if logan's wade, worst wolverine's wade, was among the people who he couldn't save? maybe it was origins!wade. maybe it was a wade that just got diagnosed with cancer. maybe it was a wade that never got cancer. maybe he didn't even know his wade all that well, just saw his face in passing in the hallway or at meetings

he thinks, 'i already watched you die once, i'm not watching you die again' during the time ripper self sacrificing moment. he thinks, 'i'm not letting you die this time'

🎀MALE!READER, BOTTOM!LOGAN

currently thinking about being the new hire as a lumberjack, too bright-eyed and eager for your own good- standing just a little taller than him. logans been assigned to teach you the basics, to which he scoffs at. the last thing he needs right now is to teach some dumb kid. and then youre getting under his skin. you pack him lunches, writing his name in a messy scrawl on the brown paper bag, a small smiley face under it. youre following him around like a lovesick puppy, and he doesnt know whether to throw you a stick or scold you. when youre drunkenly confessing your feelings for him, he had seen it coming for ages now. anyone could tell from the way you stared at him like he hung the moon in the sky. and when youre tumbling into bed together, he's surprised to find you in between his legs, knocking his knees a part.

"what're you doing?" hes sitting up on his elbows, watching you reach for his belt.

"just lemme take care of you, lo, please?" you cant help but press your clothed erection against the swell of his ass, practically salivating at the thought of what was waiting underneath. "let me?" you ask once more, unsure if you had read his signs wrong.

and he doesnt mind. fuck, he doesnt mind one bit. logan had been so accustomed to taking the lead, man or woman, that he had forgotten how good it was to let go.

how good it was to feel a cock slip past his tight hole, your hips canting up to reach his sweet spot. hes been reduced to a mindless, babbling mess, all 200 something pounds of him. his legs are thrown over your shoulders, his arms wrapped tightly around your neck. a possessive streak finds itself deep into your chest at seeing him like this: eyes screwed shut, mouth falling open as he grunted with every roll of your hips. god, youd do anything to see him like this every night.

"'m gonna come," he rasps out, tongue darting out to wet dry lips, an invitation to lean down and capture his lips with your own, "oh, fuck, 'm gonna... right there."

grabbing onto his shoulders, youre able to push deeper inside of him, harder, faster- how he likes it. he cums with a deep whine, writhing on your cock. youre quick to follow, burying yourself deep inside his gut, the sound of your heavy balls slapping against his ass. you dont say much as you pull out of him, watching his hole struggle around you. he watches through heavy eyelids, cock growing flaccid against his thigh, hands moving to your hips when you climb up his body to kiss him, gentle, slow, a promise for more.

bottom logan supremacy!!

chat hear me out.

Putting a muzzle on Logan.

And fucking him :3

He's panting like a dog, it just adds to the look honestly. He doesn't know if he should let the humiliation set in, or keep up his streak of arching his back and shooting loads onto his own stomach. You can't tell if he's pissed or just that riled up, but that looks in his eyes isn't really helping you decipher one. You have him pinned against the bed, cock drilling into him unmercifully. He was resilient, not seeming to have a limit when it came to how far he was gonna let you push him.

"Is that all you got? Huh?" He growls at you, flinching at you like he's gonna take a hit at you. But you hold him in place, a smirk on your face when he starts to lose his ability to make threats, moaning and panting more when your tip slams against his prostate. "Look so pathetic with that muzzle on, pretty boy," you tease him, eyes dancing over his current state. He's biting his lip, a small whine escaping when your pace turns more rough. "You must like having that attitude of yours, since it gets you fucked like this," you continue, unpinning him and grabbing at his hips with a strong grip.

You keep slamming into him, hearing him groan and watching him release his orgasm onto his stomach. He grumbles at you when you slow your thrusts, chuckling at the way he pulls on the muzzle with one of his hands. You push his hand away, praising him quietly when he puts it down with no resistance. He was gonna mellow out eventually, relaxed and be compliant if you keep him filled. His hair is ruffled up, head thrown to the side out of boredom when you pull out of his hole.

"You should wear that more often, it seems to shut you up more easily," you remark, laughing while grunting when he kicks at your leg. Logan runs his hand over the muzzle once again, eyes glazed over as if he's in a tranquilized state. You pat at his firm thigh, stretching your muscles and watching him in silence.

sigh he's so cutie patootie

Bongos (but male) | Logan Howlett X [Dilf] Reader

What Logan wouldn't give to have that damn DILF bent over...

  Quick Notes :  Thank you to our savior @/dorkszn for their glorious Dilf! Reader drabbles! The idea of a Dilf! Reader came directly from their posts, so be sure to give them a follow! Obviously this work is in no way related to their own, and is my own version of Logan and a Dilf! Reader. Please enjoy.

  Story Details :  1,300 words, Dilf! Reader referred to as ‘You/Your,’ Reader has twins, Readers children are animal mutants (bear), Readers children are named ‘Jett’ and ‘Hogan,’ Reader is divorced, Reader is about forty to forty-five, Reader is lightly implied to be a mutant, Reader is described as ‘having stubble,’ Logan is whipped for Reader, Logan ogles reader, and finally, sexual implications in almost everything Logan thinks

 Though, even he could admit a few of the kids stood out; there was a little red-head, about eight or so, whose mutation was a pair of wings (though they had only started growing in a few years earlier), and a teenage boy who frequently turned invisible to get away with stealing cigarettes (he never did, and Logan was the one to drag him to the professor's office). 

Despite working at the school for a few months, Logan was not fond of children. They were loud, frequently interrupted his smoke breaks, and often had mutations that they had little to no control over. In short, it was his personal hell. He only took the job because Chuck had asked him, and as much as he hated to admit it, he owed the man something (even if this job made him want to rip his hair out). 

  A gruff sigh left the older mutant, who fiddled with the cigar between his teeth as he leaned back against the wall of the hallway. It was getting dark, most students in their rooms and preparing for bed. Except, Logan could smell a few brats out and about, their scent making his nose twitch in disgust; they smelled like shit - like mud and the forest.

  His gaze was drawn towards the end of the hall by the sound of giggles - clearly children - and the sound of a heavy sigh soon following. Before Logan could push off to investigate, he blinked in surprise when the source of the noise rounded the corner.

  A man - a man he’d never seen but immediately needed to get to know - was carrying two children, one under each arm; You. At the sight of him, you gave him a tired grin, the crows feet on your eyes crinkling as he felt his heart thump against his chest. The mutant didn’t care if he was staring - you were downright sexy. You wore a shirt with the sleeves up past your elbows and a set of slacks that seemed to accentuate every part of your frame. What Logan wouldn’t give to see you bent over a-

  “Nice night, ain’t it?” You called out, shaking Logan from his thoughts as he took an inhale from his cigar to clear his mind.

  “Could be better,”

  He retorted, his eyes drifting to the two squirming mutants in your arms. They looked like you to a tea, their eyes the same color as yours with a nose to match - the only part that was different were the set of rounded ears on the brats heads. Logan guessed bear, but cat might have been it, too. Both the kids groaned, wriggling around as one tried to hit your side,

  “Papa, ‘s not fair!” one whined, making your gaze turn downwards as you arched a brow, “Yeah, papa! You never let us out into the trees!” The other added quickly.

  Instead of replying right away, Logan watched as you hoisted the two higher into the air and did a small spin, making their complaining turn to squeals of laughter.

  “You two can’t go outside without me because you roll in the mud,” You stated lightheartedly, coming to a stop as you affectionately glared at the two children in your arms.

  He shifted his focus to the two mutants, raising an eyebrow as he finally noticed the clumps of mud, dirt, and leaves that clung to the two - definitely bear, then. It was then that Logan took a more obvious look at your face, his cigar sitting in his mouth for a moment as he analyzed every little detail; you had stubble, as though you hadn’t shaved in a few days, and eyes that held a clear fondness for the two kids in your arms. His eyes moved downward, glancing at your visible forearms - hairy, but not too much so, with some muscle obvious. Fuck, you were his type. 

 “You know where I can find a hose? Or a bathtub?”

  Your voice pulled him out of his ogling, his gaze returning to your face as he grunted, pulling the cigar out of his mouth and exhaling a cloud of smoke towards the ceiling.

  “Med bay has bathtubs, should work for the… mud,” 

  Logan knew how he came across - mean, gruff, an asshole - but you didn’t seem to pick up on it, simply giving him that same tired smile before nodding and glancing down at your kids.

  “Alright, med bay it is! Come on, twerps, bath then bed; I’ve got to get all this mud out of your hair and fur,” 

The sound of your chuckle, gruff with age, made a shiver run down the older mutants’ spine. 

  “You guys new here?” He found himself asking out of curiosity, leaning against the wall again as his eyes raked over your form, “Haven’t seen your kids in any of my classes.”

  You paused, shifting the two mutants under your arms before holding them up one at a time, 

  “This is Hogan.” You raised the child in your right arm, “and this is Jett,” you raised the child in your left arm.

  Both children groaned at being named, beginning to squirm once more as they let out soft bear vocalizations - Logan filed that under something he hadn’t expected, but wasn’t surprised by.

  “Cute kids,” he stated, taking a long drag of his cigar before his gaze dropped to your legs.

  He could’ve sworn he saw one of your pant legs moved at his complement, but he brushed the thought aside as his own imagination, slowly trailing his eyes back up to your face. If you noticed, you didn’t call him out on his staring, instead focusing your attention on your mutant bear cubs with a fond huff,

  “Thank you, really. I got custody after their mother divorced me.” You stated it so bluntly that it made Logan nearly drop his cigar, though he quickly recomposed himself as you continued, “They’re my little bear cubs, all fuzzy and cute.”

  He watched as you cooed down at your children, a slight smirk tugging at his lips; you loved them, that much was clear.

  “Are they the ones who’ve been raiding the school's fridge at night?” 

  He asked jokingly, watching as your expression turned sheepish.

  “That… Is likely my boys, yes,” You said after a moment, adjusting the two bear mutants in your arms before sighing and shaking your head, “They eat like crazy. It’s hard to keep them full without handing them a snack every thirty minutes.”

  Hogan seemed insulted at your words, his expression turning into a fierce pout as he crossed his arms and sulked,

  “Papa not feed us! We need more food!” Jett immediately knew what his twin was doing and copied the boys’ pose, “Yeah! More food! More food!”

  The two bear mutants descended into a chant of ‘more food,’ causing an amused smile to cross your face - Logan wanted to see more than just that. He wondered what you’d look like blushing…

  “Well, we can have a snack after you two take a bath,” 

You said fondly, rolling your eyes as you began to walk down the hall towards the med bay. Before you walked too far, however, Logan watched as you turned around,

  “Got a name, stranger?” 

  He blinked, his mouth suddenly dry as he focused entirely on your, ahem, assets, which looked downright amazing in those tight slacks. Pulling his gaze away, he grunted, taking a pull from his cigar to try and clear the thoughts running through his mind.

  “Logan; Logan Howlett,” 

  He answered gruffly, finally returning his eyes to you as he caught the friendly smile you sent his way.

  “Nice to meet you, Howlett. I figure we’ll be seeing you around,”

  With that, you turned and continued towards the med bay, adjusting and joking with the two pouting bear cubs in your arms.

  In that moment, Logan realized he wanted you right fucking now. Multiple times, in his bed preferably, with you calling out his name as he-

 A gruff and irritated sigh pulled itself free, the mutant glancing down before he adjusted himself and began to walk towards his room. He needed a shower. A cold one.

“My fuckin’ Whore”

(For my mutual on tt <3, im not the best at NSFW but I tried😭)

Blue bit into the whining hero’s neck as they pushed deeper into him. “Ah-ah” Edgeshot stuttered out, as each thrust of their strap on hit his prostate. “Good boy ah-takin’ me so well~” They groaned, eyes watching every tremble in the Pro-Hero’s body. “This is what you get- fuckin’ flirtin’ with your fans.” Edgeshot cries out as Blue’ hand holds the bottom of his purpling cock. They’ve been at this for hours, ever since the two got back from the Pro-Hero ball. At first it was okay, some dancing and drinking. Then a few reporters started flirting with him. That’s why- Blue slaps his ass. “Focus on me- I’m the one-” they thrust their strap harder making Edgeshot cry out. “I’m the one fucking you- not those whores.” Edgeshot cries. Fat tears running down his face. “Puh-please- been good-” he whines out. Blue laughs while watching the squirming. Then Blue lets go of Edgeshot’ cock, the moment they do he cums. The white sticky fluid bursts out, far enough to hit his own face. Blue slows down their thrusts. They slowly pull the strap on out of the Pro-Hero’s ass. A wet shluck~ sound comes out, even if Blue was angry, they did prep him correctly. Edgeshot whines in overstimulation, the bumpy underside of the cock rubbing against his prostate as it gets pulled out. Blue unbuckles the strap and puts it on a rag. They remove the harness and then plop beside him on the bed. Edgeshot curls into the heat that Blue’s body emitted. “Did I go too hard on you?” Blue asked as they use a rag and wipes the cum off of Edgeshots cheek. “N-no. I enjoyed it.” Edgeshot says calmly, still shaking from his edging and orgasm.

(WOW THIS WAS A DOOZY! IM ENDING IT HERE CAUSE I DO NOT KNOW HOW TO CONTIUE😭😭)