Type? What, No That's Ridiculous I Don't Have A Ty-

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🧎🏻‍♂️🧎🏻‍♂️🧎🏻‍♂️🧎🏻‍♂️🧎🏻‍♂️

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.

blue and grey

summary: four years after the flood, you move out of gotham to start anew in metropolis — the cute reporter that steals your heart is just collateral damage.

pairings: clark kent x wayne!reader, bruce wayne x sister!reader, platonic batfam x reader (no use of y/n)

all dividers by @cafekitsune!

i. one (2.2k) — One is the loneliest number that you'll ever do; two can be as bad as one, it's the loneliest number since the number one. Or: you're two years old when you lose your parents. Your brother, a kid himself, is unable to give you the love you deserve, and you end up at twenty being as burn out as only a Gotham University student can be. So, what do you do? Change scenery, of course.

ii. like him (tbd) — Mama I'm chasing a ghost, I don't know who he is; mama I'm chasing a ghost, I don't know where he is; mama I'm chasing a ghost, do I look like him? Or: you've never realised how much you look like your parents until the press points that out. How can you miss something that you've never had?

more chapters to be added!

something about logan howlett patching your shoulder up, his calloused hands surprisingly gentle as they stitch your wound close. he’s looming over you, eyes fixated entirely on your form. in a haze of pain, your hand reaches out to curl around his hip and roughly squeeze with a low groan, unintentionally tugging him closer to your seated position.

“you okay, bub?”

“yeah...”

there’s something about it that makes his cock throb; how your reflex is grabbing onto him, how your voice is hoarse, and fucking hell, the smell and sight of you bleeding like that... he’s never letting anyone else fix you up. and oh, he wants you to squeeze something else.

I saw someone reblog and added they would like more but with Ingo comforting reader, which gave me an idea and got me thinking, I tried getting some sadness in here so hopefully y’all enjoy! This is a part 2, so asks are open, or comments, either work, I see them and I take inspiration.

X reader but everything is platonic, Ingo is sad and so am I, Adaman loses it and Irida helps (for once!)

PART 1  can be read here 

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Keep reading

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

Ketchup + Mustard = Chipotle Mayo 😮‍💨

Song: Blow — Ke$ha

Movie: Deadpool & Wolverine (2024)

Character(s): Deadpool & Wolverine

fulfilling fate

higuruma x fem!reader, nanami x fem!reader

cw - angst, character death, mild gore, breakups, complex emotions, lack of context, not proofread, higuruma and nanami are somewhat OOC

tags - higuruma x reader , nanami x reader, nanami angst, higuruma angst, reader death, jjk angst, jjk x reader

an: my first fic on this site. wrote this because i feel shitty (about recent manga chapters, anime eps, and life in general) and trying to sleep. expect some sloppy writing

"Hiromi…"

Higuruma held the body closer, almost embracing it, smearing blood all over himself. She felt ominously cold to his touch, her graying complexion a stark contrast to the tanned skin tone of his.

He pressed his hand harder into the side of her neck, desperate to find more than her weakening pulse.

"Hang in there, okay? We're getting out of here. Ijichi's coming to-"

"Sorry…" she drawled, almost a whisper.

"No, no. Nothing to be sorry for. It's not your fault. Look at me, please," he held her even tighter, as if trying to give her a portion of his life force. Fear and desperation gripped him as he felt her weight growing heavier by the second.

"Listen to me, you need to make it out of this alive. You need to fight, please."

A single, blood-stained tear rolled out her glassy eyes. Her labored breathing had quietened into soft, shallow huffs. Higuruma choked on a sob, feeling the heat rush to his head as his eyes welled with tears.

"There's someone here," he muttered, gaze fixed upon her dimming eyes. 

"You've always wanted to see him again," he continued, hand instinctively wiping the blood off her cheek and the corner of her lip.

An ominous silence filled the air.

Higuruma shuddered, mouth dry as he forced out his next words. "Nanami… Nanami Kento's here."

"Higuruma-"

"Kento's here. Please say something. Please," he pleaded to the dark, empty eyes staring blankly into the space above him.

"Y/N? Don't do this to me," the last syllable came out a whine at the crack of his voice. Desperation painted across his face as he shook the limp body in his arms. "Answer me. Say something! Nanami, talk to her. Talk to her and she'll answer you-"

"No. Stop it."

An anguished sob ripped through the chilly silence. Higuruma's grasp on the corpse unrelenting as he cradled it, facing the music, allowing himself to grief the person he only had the chance to love for a short while.

Before him stood the man who loved her much longer than Higuruma ever did. 

If only he didn't leave.

Nanami stood frozen in place. The man who was usually in action, always knew what to do in a crisis, suddenly reduced to a mere spectator of the grotesque scene, wherein the love of his life lay dying in the arms of another man.

His mind replaying scenes from the past few months. Scenes of her growing frustrated during that one discussion that went sour. Her defeated cries as she pleaded with him to stay. Her angry screamings as he walked out the door.

He remembered how it felt then. How he forced himself to not think about the good times with her. How he tried to reason with himself that it was for her own good.

For her happiness. So much for happiness.

Nanami watched as the younger guys, Ino and Yuuji rushed to console the devastated Higuruma. He could barely hear Haibara's voice next to him, asking if he's okay. 

He let the guilt eat away at him.

If only he didn't leave. 

If only he'd stayed, she wouldn't have to face this thing alone. He'll be by her side, keeping her safe like he'd always wanted. If only he'd stayed, he wouldn't have roped in such a good man like Higuruma into this undeserving situation.

If only he'd stayed, and fulfilled the grim fate that was meant for him.

started thinking about them ngl

we’ve all watched the scene of logan putting out the cigar on himself and it got me thinking about him with a reader whose mutation allows them to burn people. (he’s such a freak i need him).

-

he’s a squirming, whimpering mess underneath you. such a gorgeous sight, and one that only you get to witness - the big, bad wolverine turned into a moaning mess through the use of your power, completely at your mercy, his hands tied so he couldn’t fight you off even if he’d wanted to (not that he ever would).

you were anxious to try this. your power wasn’t one that could be used for good. it only ever caused pain, suffering, family and friends leaving you once it had manifested, spitting out words that felt like venom. you burn people when you touch them, like fire licking over their skin, making them cry and scream and beg for mercy. 

you have gloves of every colour of the rainbow, an array of different fabrics and patterns and textures, pairing them with your outfit every day. you hate touching people, hate hurting them.

but logan has a thing for pain. he’d admitted it to you, under the cover of a dark and cloudy sky, when you’d asked him how he could possibly stand to be with you when you’d never be able to touch him, never be able to kiss him without hurting him.

he’d begged you, actually begged you to touch him, to burn him, to hurt him.

for the first time ever you can touch someone without a layer of fabric in between. you can drag your fingers along his thighs and watch the red burn marks it leaves behind, watch the colour fade and the texture smooth over as his body heals itself. it’s like he was made for you, a perfect match, both with cracked and broken edges, but somehow you fit.

“fuckin’ touch me,” he spits, “c’mon.”

“i am touching you,” you reply, pressing your hand down onto his hairy chest. his skin is warm, slightly damp from a thin layer of sweat, alive and real. he cries out, but it’s not the sound you’re used to hearing when you touch people. it’s a whine, higher than you thought his voice could go, pain and pleasure mixing into something he hadn’t been able to describe to you in words.

“y’know what i mean,” he pants. you just smile, serene. you’re not teasing him on purpose, though you must admit it’s certainly entertaining to watch him fall apart, rather you’re taking the opportunity you thought you’d never get, exploring your lover's body with your touch, breathless at the feeling of skin against skin.

you finally grab his cock, feeling the thick, warm weight of it in your hand. you can feel the telltale buzzing under your skin, the sign that your powers are burning him, but he doesn’t try to pull away from you. rather, his hips jerk up, chasing more of the feeling. a bead of precum pearls at the tip, and you rub it down his shaft.

“you actually like this,” you muse, “you’re such a freak.”

the degrading comment only makes him groan, rutting his hips up to fuck into your fist. and he’s just so pretty, so lovely when he’s desperate, so as much as you want to play with him, spend hours making him beg, you don’t. because you need to see what he looks like when he’s falling apart.

you jerk him off slow, never letting the pressure relent. it’s a fight with your instincts, your mind telling you to let go before you hurt him, before he decides that he doesn’t actually like this, before he leaves like everyone else. but he heals as fast as you burn him, again and again.

you watch his face instead of your hand, focusing on the way his lips part with each sound he makes, the pleasure contorting his expression. he gets louder, warnings filling the space between you, and then his hips stutter, faltering, and you watch his eyes roll back as he cums, shooting thick ropes of white all over his own chest.

your eyes widen slightly at how quickly you’d made him cum, but he’s already hardening again in your hand, chasing the pleasure of his orgasm even as it fades.

“do it again,” he orders, though really he’s in no position to be making demands. still, you oblige, because it feels good to be able to hurt him and know he’ll always come back. you could definitely get used to this, and isn’t that a terrifying thought.