*Blows Positivity Kazoo* Enjoy Your Fictional Creations And Be Kind To Others Doing The Same!

Cody gets sit reps from all his former units. He will not admit it but Boil and Waxers are his favourite.

This took me so long but i loved making it so much. Are they in their 30s or their 50s that is up to you but i needed them old and in love and living their best life with Numa and with a cameo from Wooley.

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😭😭)

If I could save time in a bottle...

summary: [Platonic Logan Howlett x gn!reader/ famillial dynamics} After the passing of your parent figure some years ago, your friend Wade comes back from a deadly mission with a replica of him. You also soon learn that someone that is definitely not Wade has something to do with the mess that is currently the resting place of that loved one. Finally, you and the ‘worst’ Wolverine find you are on the road to healing together.

wc: 3.4k

warnings: angst and comfort, grief, strong language, brief mention of child death (in worst! Logan's universe), spoilers for Deadpool & Wolverine as well as Logan (2017), the bye bye bye scene is treated as grave desecration (which i mean,it is… but reader is naturally gonna see nothing humorous about it)

a/n: This is a bit of a mess because I never write, yet I have so many feelings and thoughts I had to do something with them. Not having seen a platonic fic of this kind anywhere I guess I had to make one. Also..I did some basic research on the general deadpool canon yet..I’m not entirely informed, having not watched deadpool 2… let’s hope for the best

--------------

 You used to be the youngest student in the X mansion back in the day, just a child having mutated under life altering circumstances, the usual. 

 It was Logan who found you. He was your rock during and after the traumatizing event of your mutation, taking you in and placing you in the arms of the X-men and thanks to him they became your family.

 You saw him no less than as a father. Despite his brooding, harsh exterior it was never difficult for you to see that he cared.

 He never shot you down when you knocked on his door in the middle of the night, sobbing after another brutal nightmare. He took you seriously when you talked about your fears and worries. He saved you and helped you stand on your feet more times than you could count.

 Seeing death and bad things happen to your family of mutants always hurt viciously but when Logan died it felt like something you would never get over.

  With your abilities generally under control, you chose to avoid actively partaking in X men work (Not that you refused your assistance, if someone called for you specifically. It had better be very urgent though.)

 So you tried to find a rhythm of what resembled a normal life for the most part, a decent job and some good friends. That was what he would have wanted, no, said he wanted for you.

 You kept ties with Laura too, having bonded over your shared grief, the man having died in her arms after all. She was some years younger than you and you were happy to consider her a good friend, the younger sibling type.

 Some years ago she had disappeared, causing you yet another source of anxiety. Turns out she herself had been banished to the Void. The relief you felt when Wade came back from that limbo hell while managing to bring her back too, was immense. You have never hugged anyone tighter than Laura the day you saw her again.

 Speaking of Wade, through this and that, you had also become acquaintances. He had needed your assistance when he was forming his X force crew and you had hesitantly accepted, making it clear that this would be an one-time thing. 

 He seemed to be a "Wolverine fanboy" in his own words which caused him to bombard you with childish questions about him until you very firmly made him aware of your boundaries. There was a time and place to talk about Logan.

When that shitshow was over with, you did not mind him considering you your friend. Sure, he was a bit much for you, not a huge fan of his 'humor' but seeing him in moderation was not unpleasant…Alright, maybe you did enjoy his company and friendship, it was as simple as that.

  After a chat with him, you learned that the rent in his apartment building was relatively cheap for New York standards, so when it was time to move out of your previous place, that was where you went.

 Then the damn timeline thing happened. You were pretty confused as to how exactly the events played out, not being involved, thankfully. But the crazy fucker did it, he saved the universe from extinction apparently. And not exactly by himself.

 Logan was there. Not your Logan but apparently a variant of him was necessary to pull the mission off.

 And now that version of him was Wade's roommate. Great. Perfect. Definitely something easy for you to process in the days to come.

--------------

 You first saw them after the mission on your way to catch a cab to the airport. It was that time of the trimester when you were to visit him. Bleak yet you longed to see him and speak to him, even if he was resting under the earth. 

 Wade had the decency to explain everything to you once it was decided that Logan’s variant would be staying. He knew that you never really stopped grieving and you appreciated the warning that basically an almost exact replica of your dead father figure would now roam around your earth.

Almost exact, because according to Wade, this Logan was more of a dick, more crude and erratic, apparently rendered by his extra layers of grief and hatred. Partially understandable but you would not accept that as an excuse if he said something cruel in front of you, you would probably introduce him to your interesting mutative abilities. You let Wade know so that he could warn mr stick-up-his-ass. Wade more than happy to accept, still assured you that with the life or death mission being over, Logan was attempting to be more approachable.

 The feelings this new reality brewed in you were..mixed, to say the least.

 You made eye contact with Wade from across the street and of course he shot up from the bench he was sitting on, dropping his half eaten sandwich to the ground, moving his arms vigorously in the air, catching not only your attention but any other passerby's. 

 Even though your stomach turned at having to face the him, you wanted to check up on Wade after all this madness he went through. And on his friend as well, you supposed.

 You looked both ways before passing the street and before you knew it, Wade’s arms wrapped around your neck. You patted his back with one hand, unable to help the choking sounds that left you. 

 “It’s so good to see you, my little honey pumpkin bear!” He squealed excitedly while squeezing the dear life out of you. He really thought he’d never see his friends again, huh.

“Oof, yeah Wade, it’s really nice to see you too, please just-” You broke free of his hold and held an arm’s distance between the two of you. You patted his arm and gave him a small but genuine smile. “Really glad you’re ok. Not that I expected anything le-”

 Your words slowly died out when your gaze met Logan’s. He was sitting on the bench observing the interaction silently. He looked just like you remembered him, minus some differences. Well, obviously he was supposed to be the same person yet..he was not.

 He looked up at you, brows furrowed while his eyes scanned through your face before flashing with what seemed like recognition (Not that you knew what it was he was seeing) He seemed tense and his mouth gaped before he turned his attention to the ground. 

 Wade naturally noticed the uncomfortable tension between the two of you and he decided to chime in quickly.

“Ah, yes this is the Wolverine I had to kidnap to help me with the time ripper bullshit and oh boy, did he deliver!” 

 You kept your eyes on the Variant, forcing yourself into a polite smile (that resembled more of an awkward line) and you extended your hand to him, causing him to lift his gaze at you again.

“Nice to meet you...Logan. Thank you for your help with unscrewing our timeline” You said as pleasantly as you could and he took your hand after a moment of hesitation, shaking it with a gentle firm and a silent nod. 

His presence..It made your stomach turn. Feeling the threat of your vision getting watery, you quickly averted your gaze away from the two, as subtle as you could manage. 

“I..Wade, m’ sorry, would love to sit a bit more but I have to go-”

“Hey wait, tomorrow we’ll be having a get-together to celebrate the un-fuckery of the universe, a partEy if you will! Everyone will be there, Al will be making that terrible casserole you really like also!”

You gave him a melancholic smile, genuinely sad you would not be able to attend. Logan’s variant was back to looking at the ground.

“Ah, I’m sorry, I won’t make it, I’m afraid. I’m going to the airport right now actually, will be off for the next three days. Gotta see someone..”

“Ooooh” Wade whistled while wiggling his brows “and is that someone maybe a super hot sexy mysterious boyfriend? Or girlfriend? Or theyfriend? Or-” 

“Heh, nope. Nothing like that unfortunately.”

“Sure, sure, keep your secrets, you ankle biter, but promise to pass by the apartment once you’re back, we gotta catch up!”

You nodded. “Of course. See you then.” 

 Two days later you found yourself back in New York in a rush, in front of Wade’s apartment door, ready to invent a way that would actually exterminate him.

--------------

 Nothing prepared you for the mess you saw in what was supposed to be Logan’s resting place. 

 The snow had ceased completely. With a simple look his grave was undug and the makeshift X was missing. When you approached, the little fresh snow that had fallen last night was covering various types of debris. Some type of fight had taken place and someone had collected the bodies in a rush yet they did not bother with what you spotted after closer inspection and some digging with your hands. 

 Metallic looking appendages…These were…

You looked inside the open grave. The snow had barely covered the remains in there and it was obvious they were not even half of what they were supposed to be.

 You suppressed the violent urge to vomit. Someone had taken him out, violated his remains and as if in a haste, threw them back in.

 You dug through the snow with bare hands around the grave. A fragment here. A fragment there. The spine. What was left of the cranium. White hot rage.

You called Laura with shaking hands. Offended would be an understatement for how she sounded, as well, unaware of who could have possibly caused this. Why were you even calling her, poor girl was in the void for a while now, what could she possibly do or know?

You hung up with the intention of looking through the situation a bit more and catching her up later.

  While trying to stay calm and focusing all your mental energy on collecting, wiping and gently placing the remains back in the hole, it clicked.

 Wade. 

 From the few words you two had exchanged ever since he was back, you gathered he turned every stone to find “a Wolverine” to assist him. Yet you could not imagine what the everloving fuck would he defile your Wolverine’s grave for and what caused him to spread his bones all over like fucking confetti.

  You would not stand for this. Just because Wade saved the stupid timeline, he did not automatically become immune to the most extraordinary ass whooping of the century. If he had something to do with this, you would not forgive him easily, if at all

--------------

 After taking a deep breath, you rang the bell. Tapping your foot on the ground, you heard some mumbling and shuffling before the door opened.

 Wade made a surprised expression that resembled a caricature.

“Sweet baby cakes! You're back already? Come on in, I was just thinking about starting a gossip girl marathon. Again!”

 Wade's cheerful expression fell almost immediately when you stayed still for a moment too long, not responding.

 Althea did not seem to be home. Good.

 Wade's expression morphed into one of concern.

“Pumpkin, is everything-”

“Wade. Guess where I just came back from.”

You took a slow step forward, dropping you backpack to the floor.

“Erm..a male stripclub full of hot babes?”

“North Dakota.”

“Don't you say! Did North Dakota had any good male strip-” He stopped himself before realization hit him. “And..may I ask..what was it you were doing in North-”

“You know very well what.”

Wade put his hands in front of him defensively and closed the door. “Hey Pumpkin, why don't you just sit so that we can-”

“Shut. Up.” You whispered.

“When I got to his grave, someone had completely messed it up. Signs of fighting around. Do you happen to have anything to do with that?” You said in a dangerously low voice, eyes glued on him.

 Wade, whose mouth formed into an awkward line, clearly not having a reasonably enough excuse to give you.

“Er, you see, um remember when I was looking for a Logan, well I started my search with the OG, you know, just to make sure he was dead dead and unfortunately he was and um then you see err the TVA showed up and um-”

He stopped when you put your hands on your face, squeezing it while a muffled screech of rage escaped you. 

“You motherfucking, with no semblance of decency, insensitive prick. You defiled Logan's remains and used them as a shield, throwing them around like toys? And you have the nerve to come back home and look me in the eye after the fact? To look Laura in the eye? Do you not have any fucking shame? Am I simply an afterthought to you?”

Silence. You could not see through the tears. With shaky hands you pulled out of your pocket a tiny clothed item and you carefully unwrapped the cover to reveal a small metallic fragment.

“You may think everything's a fucking game but that man was my family, and worst part is you know this very damn well! How dare you!”

“You have every right to be angry, just let me-”

 You grabbed the first object you could reach, which was a half empty bottle of liquor and threw it across the room, causing it to smash angrily on the wall of the living room. Wade winced slightly before groaning in frustration.

With that, a bedroom shot open and an alarmed Logan variant made an appearance, claws already out.

“What the fuck is hap-”

 He stopped in his tracks seeing it was just you. He probably had already heard your yelling earlier yet it did not answer any questions about what was going on.

“What the hell, kid?” he said with a subtle hint of alarm.

 You take a step towards him, looking up at his face, paying no mind to his blades that were now retreating back inside. God, how it hurt to stare right into his features. Feeling a wave of nausea, you picked up your bag and turned your back to the two men.

 “Wait, can't we just talk about this?” Wade said

 “No, you ruined my week enough” You mumbled bitterly before exiting his apartment. Week, more like, year.

--------------

 The roof of the building was pretty nice, you always preferred it when you wanted some time to yourself outside the walls of your apartment. You rarely ever saw any other tenant there, especially in the late afternoons.

 This is where you found yourself that night, elbows supported on the railing, observing the busy street from above while sipping on bad beer.

 How you wished he was there right now. How you wished for one more simple moment with him, where you could just be in his presence once again, chat about nonsense or simply sit in comfortable silence next to him. 

 What would he think of you as the person you were trying to become? Would he be proud of you? 

 How you wished he would put his hand on your shoulder comfortingly right now.   

 You missed him. So much.

A high pitched creak came from the direction of the heavy door behind you, causing you to jump a little and instinctively wipe the fresh tears that you just then realized were running down your face.

 “Sorry, kid, did I scare you? They mustn't have oiled this door in fucking ever..” There was Logan, the new one. Whatever entity was reading your thoughts a moment prior must be finding your misery hilarious.

 “Hope I’m not bothering you”

 “No, no. I don’t own the rooftop..” You mumbled softly, turning your attention back on the street, trying to ignore the feeling of clear tension he brought with him. You swore to God, if he was about to make a crass comment..

 He came to stand next to you, mimicking the position of your elbows on the railing. He himself was holding a glass, filled with one most likely alcoholic liquid.

 “That asshole told me everything about the grave thing. If I were you, I would have torn him apart.”

 “I’m sure you already know this isn’t possible by any means”

 Logan huffed. “Oh, believe me, I do. I’ve tried at least three times”

 You gave a noncommittal nod, trying not to focus too much the gruff voice you always found so comforting.

 “...You know..You existed in my timeline too” He mumbled before gulping a generous sip of his drink.

 That made you look up at him, surprised. “I…did?”

“Oh, yes you did. Lively little brat you were.” He said with a laugh you could only describe as melancholic. He said it like it hurt.

“You went through so much for a child. And you did cry quite often ‘cause of it, yet you were still so..” He seized, taking a heavy breath and emptying his glass. “So full of life. A good kid.” The city lights reflecting on his eyes, making it easier for you to see how watery they were.

“I..assume I…”

You were interrupted by another one of those devastating low laughs that made your heart ache.

“Yeah. You were among them. Those fuckers did not even spare a fucking child. I was the one who got you with the X-men and it ended in..” He hissed through his teeth and half closed mouth. He took a moment to collect himself and breathed out.

“I’m so sorry, Logan.” You whispered genuinely. You didn’t know what to say.

“Don’t be, …sorry, didn't mean to make it about myself.”

“You didn’t, really!” 

 A moment of awkward silence before you decided to share your piece.

“My Logan, er, you..I suppose it’s more or less the same as it was in your world but..you were like a…You were the closest I ever felt to a parent. I grew up because of you and..yeah, when I was around 17, you died.” It was almost funny how much you oversimplified those statements but it was the best you could manage at the given moment.

 He nodded, listening intently.

“I’m sure that..If he saw how you grew into who you are today, doing your own thing, in spite of the mutation shit and all…he wouldn’t change a thing about how all these fucking events went down..”

“You..think so?”

He chuckled, giving you a small smile, tired but genuine.

“Hell, I know so.” he said. You could tell. You could tell that he desperately wished this was how the events played out in his own world, with the other you alive and a bright future ahead of them.

 You hesitated for a moment, not sure if what you were about to say would be too much for him. Then again, it was him who approached you with this vulnerable conversation. 

“For what it's worth I would… they would want you to keep on living. Not forget them, not at all. Just..be. Be a person. Make friends and..live.”

 He looked you in the eye for a second, before averting your gaze and looking anywhere but you. This was hard for him. But he was trying.

 He patted your back firmly. “Thanks, kid.” It was a very simple thing you told him yet you could not possibly know what it meant to him. 

You thought that maybe you got what you wished for. Not exactly and certainly not ideally. But you and this Logan had something in common. Maybe, you could help and comfort each other in a way nobody else possibly could. 

 “Y’ know..I'm glad you got to stay, Logan.”

 A smile. “I'm glad to be here, kiddo.”

A pause. 

“How long do you think I should make Wade do my laundry for? Y'know. For retribution?”

“Oh, six months at least, bub..” 

You stayed for a couple hours chatting above the restless city, topics including but not limited to work, university and acquaintances.

Your pain was soothed a tiny bit and you hoped Logan's was too. You had a lot of time ahead of you to work on that further, after all.

Blue Moon

Summary: A series of occasions when the JJK sorcerers required your comforting embrace ...

(x Reader)

Featuring: Gojo, Kusakabe, Nanami and Ijichi.

Genre: Fluff, romance, humour.

CW: Suggestive language.

Gojo

"On a scale of 10 to 11, how blue do my eyes look this morning?"

"Satoru, what do you want?"

One arm raised, elbow crooked in nonchalant allure against the doorframe, Satoru blinks in feigned innocence. He shifts such that the torso-hugging shirt he has on slides against each defined line of his pectorals.

"I just wanna know. It's nice to hear how handsome I am, from time to time."

"Seriously?"

He cradles his chin between thumb and forefinger.

"I mean, my jawline alone can cut diamonds - "

"Come here."

He grins, having conveyed his message clearly, if a tad ham-handedly. Elbow dropping from the doorframe, he steps into the bedroom, his tall frame stooping until his nose is level with yours.

If you intended to initiate anything at all, you can shelve that idea. Satoru's arms are already sliding around your waist, drawing you impossibly close. His face drops to your shoulder, blowing a playful puff of air against you before he presses into the crook of your neck.

He feels solid in your arms, present. A cloud of pale hair, silky and fragrant, drifts across your vision. The scent of him is warm, vital, alive. You trace gently across the contours of his back before your embrace finally encloses him, feeling his exhale blow heatedly against your skin.

These are the rare occasions when he seeks you out for reassurance under the guise of mischievous ribbing, when he grounds himself in the staid, reliable nature of your presence, when he needs you.

Slowly parting from him, you glance up at the slightly muted brilliance of his glance, the softness that hovers at the edges of that almost ethereal countenance.

"Ready for work?"

"I am now."

You pat him solidly in the middle of his chest, resting your palm there for a minute before pushing him towards the door. The residual humidity of his breath lingers on your throat.

"Now hurry up and go, before I get sliced with that lethal jawline."

Kusakabe

"And then I said, why the heck can't we just take the safe route, not track through the fucking woods in pitch darkness, with a hurricane lamp that could attract every goddamn curse in the region - "

Atsuya cuts off, the scrape of the blade through the lather on his chin punctuating each point he deemed significant.

" - but of course, they didn't wanna hear it. "That's what sorcerers do, they take the dark path." Ha. They can take that poetic allegory shit and shove it."

You complete the task of drying yourself, fingers tracing lightly over the muscled wall of his back as you pass him, reaching for the hairdryer plugged into the wall just outside.

"Were there any injuries?"

"Miwa got a few scratches, but nothing serious."

He rinses off the blade, white foam circling around the drain of the sink before raising his arm again, skin appearing through the curtain of white on the sharp edges of his cheek.

"I told those kids before, you can't rely on anyone else. In a sticky situation, you gotta analyse the environment, know your opponent, observe their abilities, think and act at the same time - "

The noise of the hairdryer temporarily drowns out his voice, and he turns slightly as he sees your smile. You reach for him with your free arm, hair blowing across your face, and he grunts in amusement.

"I've still got shaving cream all over - "

"And when has that ever stopped you?"

No further convincing is needed because Atsuya's bare chest is now against your back, his arms coming up and around your middle, strong fingers linking securely over your abdomen. The coarse scattering of hair across his torso tickles between your shoulder blades. The heat of him is intoxicating, as always.

You squirm slightly in his grasp as the cool shaving cream smears across your shoulder, where he rests his chin, the dim light of the bathroom temporarily shading the green of his eyes to a subtle olive. Prickles of stubble, tender as the new growth of shoots in spring, sink into your still-damp skin.

You turn off the hairdryer, for now. You can't help yourself when your Atsuya is this close, the clean, warm scent of him wrapping around you, infinitely soft. You press your lips in a trail across his cheek, watching as his eyes close, as the rigidity of his powerful shoulders ease under your ministrations.

Drawing away, you see his eyes flick sideways at you, and you can feel the laugh that reverberates like low thunder through his chest. Your face is smeared with white.

"If you wanted to shave too, you should have just said so."

"What if I said I borrowed one of your shaving blades for my legs?"

"No wonder they're so silky smooth."

"Not as smooth as that tongue of yours."

"And you're the first person who's ever thought so."

Nanami

Kento had been pristine, as always, when he'd left home. You'd seen his clothes prepared the previous day, the suit and shirt hung neatly against the closet, socks laid aside, shoes polished to high shine.

You'd watched him comb back his hair that morning, your fingers gently caressing his undercut as you'd made your way to the kitchen to deal with breakfast. You'd watched the small smile curve the corner of his mouth as he'd fastened his watch in place.

Orderly and somewhat fastidious, was your Kento, punctual to a fault, even in the way he kissed you at exactly 8 am at the door, the Jujutsu Tech vehicle waiting outside to swallow him into its cool, dim interior.

His lips had lingered softly on yours, as always, stealing moments from the impatient clock on the wall behind you. You'd straightened his tie, one palm smoothing the slightly hollowed cheek (which had filled out a little recently with your cooking) and then you'd stepped back and treasured the softening of his eyes before the glasses were placed firmly on the bridge of his nose.

So, it was with a sense of growing concern that you watched the same clock that had governed your separation that morning. He was three hours late, and counting. He'd managed to send a brief message earlier that day, that things were gearing up to be a little troublesome. Still, you worried.

You always had.

At 10 pm, the sound of the key slotting into the latch heralds his return. Kento pushes the door open, a heavy sigh reaching your ears as you approach.

He is no longer pristine.

His hair hangs down to his eyes, greasy and disshevelled, the tie nowhere to be seen. His shirt is stained and crusted with darker patches under the arms and across his chest and back. His pants are ripped and you see the bandages beneath where he must have received treatment already. His tired eyes meet yours, and you hold out your arms to him. A soft laugh sounds against the noise of the pot bubbling on the stove.

"I'm filthy. And covered in - "

"Do you see me complaining? No more questions, love."

He grumbles good naturedly, but you know that he not-so-secretly loves it when you take charge at home.

In one stride, he is within the welcoming bracket of your arms, head drooping tiredly against the softness of your chest. He is tall enough that the position is slightly awkward, but he has anchored himself to you for support, and you brace your knees as you take his weight.

He smells of sweat, dirt and something damp and unpleasant that reminds you distinctly of a sewer. You smile and bury your nose into his hair, the unique, masculine scent of him, of Kento, now cutting through the other distractions.

You hold him like this, cradling his head close, whispering soft endearments meant only for his ears, until the stretch in his spine wears him out. He rouses from your embrace, eyes puffy and a trifle unfocused. Long lashes brush slowly together and he yawns.

"Had a good rest there?"

His voice rumbles delightfully through your frame where you are still pressed together, mellow and slightly slurred within the familiarity of these walls.

"A most peaceful one."

You tap the area where his head had been a few moments ago.

"Would you like to rent this space out, sir? It's available, every evening after five."

There it is, that quiet, mischievous smile, the one that spreads tender crow's feet at the corners of his eyes.

"Only after I've inspected it thoroughly, ma'am."

Ijichi

You pause in the doorway. Kiyotaka is pacing the courtyard outside, phone balanced between shoulder and ear. He flips aggravatedly through the folder in his hands.

"Yes, yes, I understand - No - I will - Listen, please. Yes, company cars are expensive, I know better than anyone. However, forcing a trainee to shoulder the full burden of compensation just because he - "

He notices you, out of the corner of his eye. You wave to him and gesture to the files in your hand. He gives a harried nod before a frown marrs his brow.

"No, no, I don't think the fact that he saw a spirit and screamed like a little girl, as you put it, affects his level of accountability in any way. Our policy states that - "

In two quick paces, you reach him, snatching the phone out of his hand. Barking sharply at the person on the other end, you complete his statement.

"Our policy clearly indicates that trainees are exempt from damages incurred during any coursework. And that includes driving. Goodbye."

Ending the call, you huff out an annoyed breath before handing the phone gently back to him. He sighs and you see his glance hover sideways, alighting on the files you're holding. You dismiss his concerns with a wave of your hand.

"Oh, these can wait. Don't worry. How about we go in and have some coffee?"

"Actually ..."

"Yes?"

"I'dratherhaveahug."

"Pardon?"

"I'd ... rather have a hug."

"Oh!"

Your eyes widen slightly as you drop the files haphazardly on a nearby bench. Ijichi eyes them worriedly. 

"Wait, what if the wind - "

"Then we'll say Fushiguro's dogs ate them."

"Eh?"

You laugh at his bewildered expression before tugging lightly on his tie, drawing him close. A flush steals over his cheeks, as you lean in and brush your nose against his, fingers slipping from the tie to the surprisingly strong line of his shoulders.

"Here's the hug you ordered."

"W - Well, yes, but let's be - "

He cuts off as you wrap your arms tightly around his neck, one hand sliding stealthily under his coat to caress his back. You feel his Adam's apple bob as he returns the gesture, relaxing slightly into the embrace as his breathing evens out, stirring your hair slightly.

You both stay this way for some time, as the wind whistles in the corners between the statues all around you, mercifully leaving the files intact. You lean back and are about to release him when his hand clasps firmly on the small of your back, and he dips you, smiling as your delighted laugh echoes within the enclosed yard.

As he draws you back up into a brief kiss, you marvel at his sudden bravery. But then again, this is what you love most about Kiyotaka. As shy, anxious, stressed and fatigued as he is (mostly), there was a side to him that always warmed you pleasantly when your thoughts drifted to him.

He was the man who brought you regional treats from wherever his job happened to take him, who made sure that you were safe at all hours of the day, who would pursue you with an umbrella when you'd forgotten yours, who ensured that you'd eaten on time, even when he was swamped with work.

As you separate, you see that in spite of his daring, debeonair action, his ears have turned a startling shade of scarlet. You pinch one of them lightly and smirk.

"Looks like you've been eating spicy food again."

He clears his throat.

"The only spicy thing I've consumed is ... you."

Slapping a hand against your chest in feigned shock, you gasp theatrically.

"Why, Kiyotaka! How positively scandalous!"

A rare grin crosses his tired features.

"If you really want to see scandalous, you should have a look at Yaga's internet search history."

✨✨

If you see this on your dashboard, reblog this, NO MATTER WHAT and all your dreams and wishes will come true.

I CAN’T

thanks vinoblanc for that

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

Don't get angry with him, he was patient enough. :(

content; Jayce Talis x reader. nsfw. blowjob under a desk. male! reader. needy! jayce. light overstimulation. mention of body fluids. established relationship. Jayce loving everything about you. you are not in a public place as such, but it is not the right place to do that kind of stuff. word count: 5.2k

a/n; he's so stupid, I love him, ugh. english is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any grammatical error !

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

You swallowed saliva with difficulty, unable to avoid letting out a trembling gasp as you tried to maintain your sanity and continue working with what you had in front of you. But you reached a point where what you were supposed to do had been lost along with the rest of the coherent thoughts that resided in your now blurred mind. The tool you held in your hand slipped, making a loud — sharp noise upon contact with the surface of the desk.

You bit the back of your hand in a failed attempt to muffle your moans. For God's sake, you could hear the lustful sounds that Jayce's mouth made while eating you under the desk.

The plans and annotations in front of you began to become less readable; you were fighting against the impulse to succumb. You couldn't let him get away with it and give him, on a golden platter, what he wanted.

His big hands wrapped almost completely around your thighs while his face was buried between them, taking you completely at a desperate rhythm. He knew that this was the least suitable time and place to do something like that, but he was starved; he needed you, and he was sure you would understand, right?

You felt a chill invading your whole body, along with a wave of pleasure that wrapped your stomach. Your legs felt weak, and you had the desire to grind your hips against his pretty face. You whined, clinging with one of your hands to the edge of the desk.

It wasn't his fault, of course not. No one ask you to look so good while you were working.

“No distractions, got it.”

Well, it could probably be just a little his fault.

But he truly made every effort to listen to you, to be attentive to every word you said, but he couldn't help it. Not with you looking so handsome in front of him. All he could focus on was the way your lips moved as you spoke, the way you bit your lip in thought, the way you had your sleeves rolled up and your hair was slightly tousled. The smudge of grease on your face, he find it strangely endearing. You were so invested in your work, so dedicated and passionate. It was... kind of hot.

God, he really loves you so much.

He lost count of all the times he moved around the room, trying to distract himself with anything other than you. Swallowing nervously, waited for you to realize what he wanted — that he wanted you — but that was impossible. You weren't paying attention to him, and he didn't dare tell you anything because he was embarrassed enough to open his mouth — but not enough to get between your legs. You made him feel like a damn teenager in love, and he had to admit that deep down, he liked it.

A moan choked at the back of your throat, eyes rolling back as your fingers tangled in your hair, combing it back. You sighed tremulously, feeling your hips contract with the effort you were making for not to cum. You almost did when Jayce pushed your length all the way down his throat, with a hand gripping you firmly by the waist. He knew what he was doing.

“S-Shit!” you whimper loudly, unintentionally throwing the objects near you to the floor with your arms. You couldn't see him, but you knew he was smiling right now.

He really tried to push those thoughts away, but they just kept creeping back into his mind. He tried to focus on his own work, but his mind kept wandering back to you. You caught his gaze a few times, giving him a quizzical look, but he quickly glanced away; pretending to be focused on the tool he was holding. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, and he knew he was probably blushing like an idiot.

He found himself stealing glances at you whenever he thought you weren't looking. Every so often, he'd catch a flash of that beautiful smile, and it would make his heart flutter all over again. He watched the way your fingers moved with such practiced precision — oh your beautiful hands, he couldn't wait to feel them on every corner of his body; just like your magnificent and pretty fingers, which were not only agile to create things.

You two had been working for hours and he had kept his patience as much as he could, but he couldn't keep waiting. You wouldn't blame him, would you?

“Jayce…”

“Mhm?”

The vibration of his throat caused you an involuntary moan. You cursed in low, tilting your head lower, peeking between the edge of the desk and your body to look at him kneeling in front of you. Your cock was still between his lips, with a mixture of his saliva and your fluids dripping from the corners. He looked at you attentively, with dilated pupils, observing your face. His hair was a mess, but it still looked cute as always.

“Stop, this… this is not the-!” He stopped you, sucking your tip and stealing a hoarse moan in the process. You bit your lip, watching his pretty mouth move up and down for your entire length. It was much better to see it than just to feel it.

You rested your back against the chair, bringing your hand to his hair; where your fingers tangled between his brown locks. Your legs opened more for him, being the only sign he needed to realize that he had obtained what he wanted.

He didn't take his eyes off you for the rest of the night; he wanted to make sure he remembered this moment well, capturing every expression on your face and the sound of your voice.

And don’t worry, you will make sure to collect your debt later.

© dansroo.2024. If by pure chance you recognize me, hi again! ;) I'm so sorry for deleted my account without giving explanations, I had some personal problems, really sorry.

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)