Chapter Text
Wade always thought fighting was a little like sex.
For one, the noises: screaming featured prominently in both acts. But in this case, yelling might be the more appropriate term.
“Jesus, you’ll pop a hernia if you keep shouting at me like that,” Wade sputtered, breathless from taking a well aimed kick to the stomach. “Let’s use our indoor voices, children! Remember, quiet coyote.” He raised a hand in mock demonstration, admiring the view of Logan’s scowl through the frame of his fingers. The van lurched, and then came the fist to the face. Wade wouldn’t have expected much else.
“Fuck you,” Logan spat, literally. Even through the fabric of his mask, he could practically taste his spit in its full, anger-flavored glory.
That was another part of a good fight and a fuck: exchange of bodily fluids. And their fluids were certainly mingling, if the leather dripping in red was a testament to anything.
“Y’know, I’m an O blood type,” Wade chirped, ducking under another swipe. “And from the smell of things, I’d say you’re an AB—” A rapid punch nearly connected with his nose. He was only just quick enough to roll out of the way and underneath to steer a knife into a vulnerable thigh. “O’s are universal donors. AB’s are universal receivers. If you catch my drift.”
Logan gargled out something unintelligible but clearly pained, although it was hard to say if it was to voice displeasure over the knife cruelly twisting deeper or the innuendo. It was probably most definitely both. In any case, a set of claws were being plunged in his chest.
Of course, this was the crowning connection, the pies de resistance, that really made fucking and fighting practically identical in everything but the name: penetration. Two guys stuffing things in each other, in the back seat of god’s sorriest excuse for a car? Howling, sweating, rolling around chest to chest? It would just be plain silly not to draw the comparison.
How long had they been at it, anyways? Through the brain fog and viscera, it was getting harder to think on a granular level. Then again, that was just one more thing that made a little brawl as good as five minutes alone with any trusty old sock; the lack of thought, zero inhibition. Both of them were operating on instinct, guided by muscle memory as steel met with steel. And there was something rhythmic about their little routine, like the world’s most violent choreography to the tune of testosterone and the silky sweet sound of Olivia Newton-John’s voice. All that was missing was a little more hip action, and then the rating could really be bumped up to NC-17.
“What’s it gonna take to shut you up for good?” Logan’s words dripped with venom as he swung a leg over Wade’s waist to pin him down, slamming his head into a cupholder.
Red bubbled up in Wade’s throat. Oh, god. The compromising position was like a dream come true. “You can’t fool me, I know what you’re thinking, cupcake. As a great philosopher once said, your hips don’t lie. Someone’s hoping this’ll never end,” he panted, a wet cough punching through his labored breath as claws ground into his flesh.
The man’s brow twitched. He stared down at him, blinking. There was just the barest hint of surprise in his creased expression, as if acknowledging for once that Wade could actually understand a single thing about him. It wasn’t like it was hard to pick up on his thoughts. There was scarcely another soul out there who could keep pace with the big bad Wolverine, much less bounce back from being treated like an immortal pincushion. However much he hated Wade, there was no way he wasn’t getting a thrill going toe to toe with an equal, someone who just wouldn’t go down.
The look vanished as quick as it came, replaced with a vicious glint of disgust. “Speak for yourself,” he hissed.
“Yeah, yeah, deny it all you want, bet this is the best action you’ve had in years. If you’ve even had any at all. You’re not totally dried up after 200 years yet, are you?” Wade said, ripping the knife free from Logan’s leg to drive it into his side, lunging forward to bring him down.
It was like slamming into a brick wall. Logan didn’t budge. Of course he didn’t, there was still a full set of adamantium cutlery lodged in Wade’s sternum and over 300 pounds of hate sitting in his lap. In hindsight, he should have seen it coming.
Something very much unforeseen, however, was the noise that escaped Logan’s throat. A heady, unsubtle sound, that was unmistakably a moan. It cut clean through the tension, and their little dance came grinding to a halt, in every literal sense of the phrase.
Wade wet his lips, swallowed. “Uh—”
“Can it,” Logan cut him off with a hard shove. Unfortunately, or perhaps, very fortunately, the momentum carried through into Wade’s lower body as he rocked straight up into the other man, still gripping the handle of his knife as it tore through flesh and fabric.
There was that delicious little sound again, so sweet it nearly broke Wade’s heart that he couldn’t take a bite out of it. This time, he kept his eyes trained on Logan as he just tipped his head back, mouth parting, a slight tremble to his lips as blood and sweat beaded along the sparse line of his beard. It was something straight out of a high budget porno, if you could look past all the bleeding and stabbing. His pants were even starting to feel familiarly tight.
“Oh, man, fighting really is just like sex,” Wade gasped, voice careening off into a squeal as claws sank into his shoulder.
“You fucking freak,” Logan bit out, bearing all of his weight down, and sweet mother of god did it feel better than it had any right to as Wade’s dick was crushed under the pressure. This wasn’t new for him, not by a long shot, but he had priorities, and a trip down memory lane in wank land could wait.
“Uh, ever thought about taking a look in a mirror, hotness? I’m not the one who’s two strokes shy of busting a load over a piece of metal making itself at home in my guts,” Wade retorted. Honestly, the lack of self-reflection was offensive. “Actually, I’ll probably get there soon enough with how things are headed.” He corrected himself, gleefully letting his imagination roll off into the gutter. At the end of the day he was nothing if not adventurous.
It took a moment for Wade to process he was not, in fact, hallucinating that Logan was laughing. Full-bodied, genuine laughter, grinning ear to ear. It was cute. It was kind of hot. It went straight to his dick.
“Fucking prick,” Logan gritted out through a tight smirk as he released Wade’s shoulder to stab straight into his neck. He hardly recognized the wet, garbled cry of pain that echoed around the steak knives down his windpipe as his own voice.
“Dirty bitch,” he returned, shaky fingers finding the knife holstered in his thigh strap and jamming it snug into the small of Logan’s back. He giggled. There was a double penetration joke somewhere in that moment.
His efforts earned a less than happy howl from Logan, shuddering and twisting in pain above him. Not quite the reaction Wade was going for— at least, not anymore. Without further ado, he yanked Logan back into him, gripping both knives so tight his knuckles went white. They choked out twin groans as their groins slid together, igniting a friction so hot Wade swore it could burn a hole in his suit.
Swearing quietly, he craned his neck to look up at him, barely able to nudge his chin through the claws in his throat. Tendons snapped and sewed themselves back together as he struggled. At least he had the sight of Logan’s face contorted with pleasure to ease him through the pain. Even as he held back, you couldn’t miss the way his pupils were blown, or how he so tenderly worried his tongue between the tips of his teeth. If the foreplay was enough to get him this hot and bothered, he just had to see how his pretty mug would look mid-fuck.
“Can I say something?” Wade breathed, grunting pathetically with each stutter of his hips, arousal taking the wheel behind his brain. It was a natural response to human desire, he could hardly help himself anymore. In any case, judging by the chihuahua tremor in Logan’s thighs, the feeling was mutual.
“Is there even a point in answering,” Logan said bitterly, the little breathless moan that followed not going unnoticed.
Wade braced himself for another strike, pleasantly surprised when one never landed. Instead, the weight on top of him shifted as Logan adjusted, arching back to wrap a leg around Wade’s own and squeezing. His shoulders rose up and down, chest heaving with every inhale and exhale. Those tits were probably massive underneath all that yellow plating, and hairy as hell. Fuck. His mouth was starting to water.
“I just really think we should switch up what we’re putting in our holes,” Wade confessed, wheezing like a long forgotten squeezy toy.
Logan spluttered in disbelief, as if he thought he was joking. Oh, please, don’t act like you’re not humping me like a bitch in heat, he would have said, had Logan not begun winding up for another punch.
“Please let me put my dick in you.” The words tumbled out of his mouth. Logan froze mid strike. Wade didn’t dare to breathe as he sized him up. Given that his eyeballs hadn’t been skewered yet, he was at the very least considering the proposal. Hopefully.
Logan stared him down for what felt like an eternity as his pulse ricocheted between his eardrums, so loud it made him dizzy. Or maybe that was the blood loss. God, he couldn’t pass out now, not right before getting an answer, even if he could guess what he was going to say.
“You are the most pathetic sack of shit I’ve ever had the misfortune of crossing paths with,” Logan finally rasped out.
Wade waited for more. The anticipation had his stomach doing somersaults, his dick getting harder and harder with each passing heartbeat.
Fuck it. He was gonna push his luck. “So is that a yes or a no?” The sickening crack of ribs shattering made him choke. “Words! Let’s use our words, oh, god, motherfucker— would it kill you to just answer like a normal person and not the Punisher!?”
Logan’s claws slid free from his ribboned throat with a squelch so horrible it would make Freddy Kreuger blush. Wade swallowed down blood and air, enjoying the ability to breathe somewhat properly, if only for a moment before his face was forced into a red soaked seat cushion. Logan was just an angry blob of mustard in the corner of his eye, barely visible as he audibly rummaged around for something.
Wait. That was the sound of a utility belt being undone. And not just any belt, it was his. Yeah, he’d recognize the distinct little snap of the side buckle popping free anyday.
Wait again. This could only mean one thing. “Holy shit, it was a yes,” he mumbled into the back seat. “Unless you’re just getting ready to perform the world’s most unsanitary circumcision.”
Logan’s chin thudded against his chest as he barked out a laugh. “If you want I can cut it off.”
Another opportunity for a double penetration joke. “Oh, yeah, sounds good, after I’ve popped a new stiffy I’ll jump in to help while you’re still going at it. Two’s always better than one.” His suit waist latch was pulled open with a hard tug. Relief from the pressure had him sighing, bucking up to meet with Logan’s touch and cursing under his breath.
“I can’t stand you,” grunted Logan, finally shoving down his briefs.
Whatever Wade wanted to say died on the tip of his tongue as Logan’s fingers closed around his cock. Stars exploded behind his eyes; the world spun, warping, everything in slow motion as he began to tug. Holy shit, the Wolverine was jerking him off. Talk about dreams coming true, emphasis on coming. It didn’t matter the gloves made it feel kind of like a sandpaper fleshlight, or that his broken bones were rattling around like a poorly secured windsock in a hurricane. He could genuinely come like this, drinking in the sight of Logan rocking back and forth against him, lip caught under a set of pearly whites in concentration, all while knowing he was being touched by his lifelong idol.
But there was a time and more importantly a very specific place he would be coming. It sure as hell wasn’t going to be out in the open air.
“Sorry, I swear I’m not an early shooter, but today’s the day I’m not taking any chances.” With monumental effort, he lunged forward. Clearly distracted, Logan didn’t stand a chance, swung back into one of the middle seats. Maybe Wade had jumped the gun a bit, because Logan wasted no time ramming his claws into his stomach, eyes bright with feral desire. Desire to kill him or fuck him? Same thing at this point. Whatever. “Two can play at that game,” he groaned, prying a knife free from Logan’s flesh and stabbing him square in the stomach. “You like that, huh? Kinky motherfucker. What kind of snuff sites do you use for shit like this? Must have to clear your browser history pretty often. That’s what incognito’s for,” he taunted, exhilaration scorching through him as he leaned in close enough to feel Logan’s breath waft over his skin. Blood spurted across his hand, pooling with his own, hot, thick, and disturbingly reminiscent of cum. He didn’t think twice before screwing the blade even deeper with a well timed grind of his hips.
Oh, yeah, Logan liked that alright. He thrashed under his touch, nosing into the car seat. He didn’t let up on the claws, and if he didn’t know any better, he could have sworn he was trying to pull him in closer.
“Cunt.” The man’s voice was low and dark, a slight trickle of blood dribbling down his chin as he broke into a half smirk, gaze hot. It made it nearly impossible to pay attention to anything but his mouth. Was kissing off the table? He’d have to ask later. Dwelling on it any longer would definitely lead to creaming his pants.
Logan must have caught on that Wade was distracted, legs wrapping around his waist in a tight vice. He lost his balance and fell forward, practically flush against the other man. “Fuck,” he squeaked. His guts were 100% full on kebab’ed.
At the same time his dick was unsexily rubbing up against Logan’s suit, the slide made even smoother by the awful mix of precome and blood. Oh, no. It felt great. “Not good,” Wade faintly mumbled, lightheaded.
Usually, any sane individual would think of something sick and twisted to stave off an orgasm, except Wade was already knee deep in the sickest most twisted thing a guy could conjure up. Not to mention he wasn’t exactly a sane individual. He tried anyway, imagining dead puppies, his last sales pitch for the Honda Odyssey, sticking his dick in places it didn’t belong. How disgusting would it be if he fucked Logan right in the stab wound?
Gross. Horrible. Nightmare fuel.
He felt his dick twitch.
“Please don’t make me use context clues anymore, I flunked out of high school lit class,” he pleaded. “But I’ll implode if I don’t get my penis inside of you. Like, immediately. And this is gonna sound fucking crazy, but I think there would be massive benefits for both of us if I fucked you—” He dug the heel of his palm into Logan’s upper navel, right above the knife. “—here.”
A look of shock flashed over his face, wide eyes darting down at the press to stomach. “You can’t be serious.” Wade didn’t miss the bob of his adam’s apple, or the way he sucked in a sharp breath.
“Deadly.” He nodded. Time was ticking. If this went on much longer he’d be giving the Wolverine jammies a fresh new paint job. He’d be a walking twinkie ad after that. “Our tongues can battle for dominance after I’m in you. Can you please—”
“Just fucking get it over with,” Logan interrupted him with a shout, the unspoken confession of I can’t wait any longer either hidden somewhere in there.
Wade could hardly believe his ears. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”
In a flash of steel the knife was free. With mere seconds to beat his regeneration, he pawed at the opening with trembling hands, at last forcing it open to reveal a clean gash. He paused to admire his handiwork; a pearl of blood glistened around the edge, layers of fat and muscle visible as he pulled it further apart. Something about it was terribly inviting, in the same way a clearly haunted house could draw in a trick or treater: you knew that someone had probably met with an unfortunate end behind that door, and that you’d probably follow suit if you dared to knock, but at the same time there was still the chance of striking it rich in the candy department.
And Wade was ready for his fucking chocolate bar.
“Oh, god, this is so wrong,” he practically wailed as his dick sank into the tender opening. “Fuck, fuck, fuck fuckfuck—”
Logan grabbed his arm, hard, like he was trying to crush a can of pop. A hoarse moan flew out of his mouth as he watched his dick disappear inside of him. The ride in was terrifyingly smooth, burning heat hugging his dick on all sides, and it took every fiber of concentration to keep himself from coming. Not to say there was no resistance; he could very clearly feel the shape of his insides, the squishy curves of what he assumed to be intestines. It was agonizing for both as he struggled to seat himself fully. A jolt of pain made Logan hiss, knee jerking straight into Wade’s back.
“Bad dog, bad, don’t bother daddy while he’s working,” Wade stuttered. His ribs ached despite having already jigsaw’ed themselves back together.
“Move,” Logan barked out.
“A minute, please, I’m trying to savor the moment. Which is code for trying not to come my brains out yet,” Wade hummed, hiking a leg up to oblige him anyway, only for Logan’s hand to dart beneath him. He sighed out, suddenly arching forward, the hard edge in his eyes softening, fucked out as he began gyrating his hips. Wade dared not look down, knowing the visual of whatever magic he was working between his legs would inevitably 1. make him come and 2. possibly have him slipping right out. To clarify, getting it up a second, third, fourth, fifth time and so on was never out of the question. Wade was simply a sentimental guy and the first orgasm was special. It would be Hamlet levels of tragedy to waste it before making it into the sweet, loving embrace of Logan’s insides.
There was a struggle in the way Logan jerked his arm, core tightening as he touched himself. Fuck, it was hot, watching him drown in waves of agony and pleasure. He’d growl out a swear or two, something like cunt or motherfucker, veins rippling with pain as Wade fucked into him, before his eyes would start rolling back with a flutter of his lashes, curses melting into little groans.
Something warm and wet rolled up Wade’s throat. It only hit him that it was his own blood once he’d coughed it up and into his mask, vaguely remembering the ravaged state of his stomach. Jesus christ, blood really was getting everywhere, splattered crudely against Logan’s chest plate, smudged across his forehead and dotting his hair, a river of red coursing from where they were connected at the hips. And it wouldn’t stop, gushing out in a violent torrent as Wade fucked into him. With the accompanying symphony of organs being rearranged, Logan’s urgent strokes, it was practically a real deal fuck.
“It’s all got me thinking,” Wade started. “Are you often dealing with hard-ons mid fight? And should I be worried about a Pavlov situation where the only place my dick can come is between the large intestine and an alcoholic’s liver?”
The chatter certainly didn’t entertain Logan, though there was more delirium than hate in the look he shot him. If he had something to say, he wouldn’t spit it out, as per usual. Wade could live with that. Being so intimate, inside of Logan in a way he hoped none had ever been before; the concept was driving him crazy. And the sick, nagging desire to dig deeper, find a new spot to explore and see if he could unravel Logan properly, layer by layer, was dangerously tempting. If he couldn’t manage any words out of him he’d just have to search his body for answers. The thought left him giggling; how romantically erotic.
A sudden squeeze around his cock brought him back to the present. It was Wade’s turn to lose his grip, barely holding on as he braced himself against Logan’s thigh. “That feels alarmingly familiar,” he noted with wide eyes. “A-are you doing that on purpose?”
Another contraction rocked him to his core. Arousal overrode impulse, and he was unable to resist ramming back in with a moan, desperately chasing the sensation.
“Course not, dumb fuck,” Logan managed. He had to be feeling something, though, eyes screwed shut, wrist twisting rapidly.
Right. Healing factor, and all that fun stuff.
“This is nuts, this is— holy shit, you’re tight as hell,” Wade marveled with a dumb grin. In the back of his head he’d briefly considered how it might feel, and god was it better than he could have imagined. It nearly consumed him, tissue convulsing in a rapid struggle to reconstruct; he could so clearly feel supple flesh, freshly formed, contracting over and over.
“Don’t,” Logan hissed, claws sheathed as he threw an arm over his eyes.
Cute. Was he actually embarrassed? Kind of late for that, but it sure made things fun. “Seriously. It’s tighter than a virgin down here.” He crammed two fingers in alongside his dick, reveling in the way it had Logan choking violently on his spit. “And wetter than a whore during Sunday confessional, apparently.” It was all blood and other fun bodily secretions, of course, but it got the point across, as evidenced by Logan reddening with humiliation.
Wade could go all night like this. “Leaving me out to dry here still? I feel like most readers enjoy a little more back and forth this far in.” Fingers withdrew to brush against Logan’s bottom lip, leaving a red smear, before giddily shoving them into his mouth, rolling his hips down and throwing all caution to the wind as the man gave a startled shout. “Come on, this mouth’s gotta be good for something other than sucking—” Teeth sunk down straight to the bone. “Fuck!” His scream died as Logan’s hands shot up to grasp around his neck. “W-worth it,” he whispered gleefully, gasping for air as he was choked within an inch of his life.
“I’m gonna rip your fucking tongue out and shove it so far down your throat you’ll taste last week’s breakfast,” Logan heaved, eyes burning with fury as his tongue swiped over his ruddy lips. It was so hot Wade could almost ignore the searing pain wracking his body.
“You really have such a way with words. Please go on,” Wade goaded, still thumbing against Logan’s gums and admiring his little canines. The whole strangling bit was making it difficult, but he managed to find enough purchase to keep fucking into him. A chill of delight ran up his spine as Logan responded with an earnest groan and a full bodied arch. They rocked together, haphazard and desperate, energy still building despite how long they’d been going at it.
“Just shut up already!” Logan roared, tightening his grip beyond the point of bruising. “Unless you want me to string you up with your own fucking organs.”
Oh, man, the corners of Wade’s vision were starting to go fuzzy. Toeing the line between life and death with his dick inside of someone was more of a turn on than he ever could have expected. That, plus all the death threats. He’d never fucked someone who so badly wanted to kill him. Then again he’d never done a lot of things that had gone down tonight.
“You can do whatever you like to me, babygirl. Just stay clear of down yonder if you can.” Wade struggled, fighting the haze flooding his mind. “Can’t get enough of this shit— you’re like a walking, talking, pocket pussy minus the pussy.”
That was apparently the last straw, as Wade was sent flying against the back of the driver’s seat. “Excuse me, we were having a moment,” he gasped, catching his breath and mourning the loss of warmth around his cock. He pouted to himself, realizing sadly the wound was likely healed now. “Well, we can always go the old fashioned way. Pucker up, beautiful, because—”
He stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of the bush between Logan’s thighs. A very hairy bush, but a bush that was distinctly without a dick and balls. It was dewed with slick and blood, glistening in the afternoon sunlight.
Logan launched himself forward; Wade anticipated the punch without blinking, catching it with his unmangled hand. It wasn’t quite enough to stop him as his claws slid out, pinning his palm against the headrest.
“Okay, so I stand corrected. Walking pocket pussy, but minus the pocket,” Wade slurred, unable to pry his eyes away from between Logan’s thighs. It was clearly soaked down there, a slight sheen across the legs of his suit, and the image of him fingering his cunt while letting Wade violate him hit him like a freight train.
“Shut. Up,” Logan snapped again, knocking their foreheads together as he reached down to give his dick a vicious squeeze. Wade nearly resigned to the fact he was about to rip it square off, until Logan hiked one of his own legs up over his hip. Oh, fuck. It was happening. He was lining up his cock, still coated in blood, with his dripping slit. The tip bumped clumsily against his swollen clit, practically frictionless with how wet they both were. Wade almost sobbed, Logan shuddering into him. It was slippery, enough that he wasn’t sure if he was teasing, or just plain struggling to get it in, thick folds brushing over him with each movement.
Logan eventually seated himself straight to the base in one go. They both cried out, noses brushing together as Logan tossed his head back. Nothing else mattered in that moment, nothing but the way that tight heat swallowed him whole. To think, minutes before he’d been mere inches away from his womb, totally unaware. He was almost certain he’d gone straight to heaven. His hips jerked violently, the angle making it nearly impossible to thrust up properly, but it didn’t stop him from trying. Luckily, Logan didn’t seem keen on waiting either, already rocking his hips up and down at a punishing pace.
“Impatient much,” Wade barely managed to chuckle. “You really don’t mind that you’re basically shoveling your own gut juice up in there?”
His cunt pulsed, hard. “Fucking— asshole,” Logan said. His voice was surprisingly shakey, the stone faced facade finally beginning to crumble for real.
“Fucking pussy, actually,” Wade quipped, gripping the divider between the front seats for dear life.
That actually got a laugh out of him, teeth bared in a trembling smile as he reached for the armrest, fucking himself even harder. His biceps flexed with the effort, body quaking with searing need each time his cock was buried to the hilt.
God, he wanted to touch him so badly, rip the rest of his suit off to map every inch of skin. He was already organizing a mental laundry list of everything: wanted to get his face between his thighs and taste his arousal, wanted to roll his nipples between his teeth, wanted to twist his hands in his hair as his throat would take his cock as far as it would go. The sun was only halfway through setting, they’d have the time, if given the chance. Logan seemed bent on wearing the metaphorical pants, though, and Wade was at his mercy, watching him spear himself open so prettily on his dick.
Well, Wade did have one free hand.
He didn’t waste another second reaching for the knife still lodged inside of Logan, using it like a handle to force him even further down onto his dick. The man actually whined, a high-pitched, buttery tone that shot straight to his cock, and god Wade hoped he could feel how much harder he was getting. More slick gushed out, and Wade could see the way he was creaming where they were connected, a pinkish foam around the base of his cock. The arm keeping him upright suddenly buckled under the weight of ecstasy.
“Up we go!” Wade chirped, leaning into him as he tumbled back into the chair, nearly landing face first into his armored tits. That was a treat he’d save for later. He tucked his thighs under Logan’s, assuming a more appropriate position to really give him a good fuck. The man beneath him swallowed audibly, fully aware of what was coming next, but surprisingly compliant, and Wade was pleased when he wasn’t met with the usual resistance. Even lying down, though, he didn’t seem content to just take it, thighs clamping around Wade’s waist and arching up greedily as he slipped back inside.
The frustration, the hate, the pain; it all evaporated with every sharp thrust. Neither could focus on anything save for each other’s touch, grasping at anything they could get their hands on. Wade allowed himself a moment to watch Logan as he took his cock. Strings of drool connected his top and bottom lip as he gasped and moaned unrestrainedly. There were still streaks of blood leftover from Wade’s fingers, even trailing down his neck. “Holy fuck, you’re so fucking hot,” Wade rasped. He couldn’t help himself any longer, shoving his mask up and over his nose before diving forward to kiss him.
Logan growled into his mouth, tensing for just a heartbeat, before melting into it. His pussy gave way to how much he enjoyed it, gripping so tight Wade practically felt it in his throat.
It was a terrible, horrible kiss, more of a messy slide of tongues than lips slotting together; definitely not Wade’s proudest work. They moaned into one another, voices practically vibrating as one.
“Kissing always makes sex a million times better, don't you think? It’s just so romantic,” Wade said. After a pause, he carefully unsheathed himself. Logan roused at the loss, shooting him a half-hearted glower. The tough guy act was downright adorable. “Gimme another shot, I promise I know how to use my tongue,” Wade pleaded with a teasing smile, before slamming in hard enough to nearly fold him in half, the entire van creaking from the sheer force.
Maybe it was the angle, maybe it was out of surprise, or maybe it was the usual I wanna kill you instinct, but Logan’s claws shot out straight into his stomach. Wade ground his teeth around a yelp of pain. He wasn’t gonna let a few measly stabbings slow him down at this point, not with Logan’s tender heat surrounding him, wet and perfect. “I got you, sweetheart,” he breathed, grinding deep. That hard spot deep inside of his cunt bumped back against the head of his cock, and he nearly lost it. He swooped back in to meet with Logan’s lips again, rolling his bottom lip under his teeth.
“Don’t— don’t you fucking stop.” Logan’s lungs heaved. Was it a command, or was he begging? Either way, hot.
“Why, I’d never,” Wade panted, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth as he drove his hips down, relentless. The back of his head tingled, his orgasm clearly on the horizon. He briefly considered pulling out in the name of chivalry, but orders were orders, and Logan would probably shred his guts if he dared to stop again. The thought of creampieing him, getting to see him writhe from being filled, shook him to his core.
He shucked a glove off, slipping his hand between them and spreading the thick hair covering Logan’s cunt to find his clit again, swirling the engorged nub between his middle fingers. The man was absolutely soaked, a quivering mess of need as he wailed into his touch. He tongued his way back into Wade’s mouth, shamelessly using his claws to draw him in even closer.
“You’re not gonna get pregnant if I come inside you, are you?” Wade absently mumbled into the kiss. The thought had suddenly crossed his mind, and his filter, if you could even call it that, had long since been eviscerated. He just had to ask.
Logan cried out, his clit twitching at the comment. “You fucking freak, you’re really gonna bring that up now?”
Wade blinked, pressing down against his wetness. “Oh, you’re into it. You like that.”
He gave a frustrated whine, a defeated noise that made Wade’s mouth water, before he bit down hard, drawing blood. If he was trying to distract him from acknowledging the kink in the room— well, it wasn’t working. A breeding fetish was hardly something to blush over, especially considering…everything. But he rose to the challenge anyway, savoring the blend of sweat and iron and spit through the stinging pain. His hips snapped furiously, searching for the angle that would finally take Logan apart.
“Yeah, let’s get you pregnant, princess,” Wade hummed, dragging their tongues together, sucking, teasing. He sunk his teeth into Logan’s flesh, both now sporting matching wounds, chins stained bright red.
It all left Logan breathless, claws sheathing as he flung his arms over Wade’s shoulders. Adrenaline carried them through the exhaustion. God, he needed to come so bad it was painful, more agonizing than the deep gashes still closing up in his stomach. He could feel Logan was close, his insides spasming around his cock long and deep like he couldn’t get enough, needed it harder. A little push in the right direction and Wade knew he could get everything to tumble right over the edge. He nudged into Logan’s beard, mouthing the tender junction between his neck and jaw, listening close for the raging pound of his heartbeat hammering away.
Logan’s fingers dug into his shoulders, jaw going slack with a moan as his slit tightened again around his cock. “There,” he grunted. “Right fucking there.”
“Mmph, god.” Wade thrusted obligingly, met with the most gorgeous whine spilling from Logan’s lips. He worked his fingers in tandem with his hips, each thrust accompanied by lewd squelches and moans as he kept up the pressure on his clit. Gone was the man set on killing him, melted down to a mess of want and heat. After chewing on the thought, Wade decided that not much had actually changed. “You can come, gorgeous, I wanna feel it,” he said breathlessly, ramming hard into that inviting tightness.
Logan bucked up into him, grabbing him by the back of the mask to yank him in for another sloppy, dizzying kiss. “Don’t need your damn permission,” he snapped, but seemed to relent after Wade hit that spot once more. “Fuck,” he whimpered quietly. “Fuck, y-yeah, I’m close.”
Wade let go, fucking into him hard and fast through his orgasm. The world was spinning around him as he came, jizz and blood and slick swirling together, all swallowed up by his greedy cunt. Blinding pleasure overtook him as he spilled ropes of cum deep inside, nerves singing, a choir of euphoria as he gave into release. “Oh, yeah, there it is.” He sucked in a deep breath.
Beneath him, Logan’s thrashed, expression screwed tight with pleasure, mouth hanging open invitingly. An idea popped into his head. “Feel that, princess?” he ran a palm across his stomach, rolling the heel down hard. “Take it in. That’s you. Getting pregnant.”
That was all it took for Logan to follow suit, and with a sob, his cunt was milking him as he came. Wade rode it out with him, circling his clit, reaching around to twist the knife still wedged into his flesh and fucking into him all at once. The reaction was priceless, Logan clutching feebly at him as his eyes rolled back, letting out a cry more animal than human. He was almost taken aback at the sudden spray of slick. It was everywhere, coating his hands, forearm, splashing crudely against their suits and surely drenching the car seat. God, he never wanted the moment to end.
It hit him just how much his muscles burned. Spent, he collapsed onto Logan, not bothering to pull out. They lay there, quietly relishing the final waves of pleasure ebbing away.
Eventually, Wade broke the silence, nudging into the glorious valley of Logan’s cleavage. “So you’re a squirter.”
Logan struck him against the temple, and not lightly. “I don’t wanna hear it.”
“Ow,” Wade complained. He swore his ears were still ringing from his mind numbing climax. Was that even a thing? “That hurt. Are you not tired, like at all? Let’s give the whole Kill Bill shtick a rest. At least for a minute.” He silently hoped Logan would be ready for round two soon. Wade certainly was— or would be in a minute. “I’m down for a little cock warming sesh in the meantime.”
The world tilted suddenly, as if he were blacking out. Wait. He was literally tilting. Logan was pushing him off and onto his back. The man tutted as he towered over him. Wade groaned. His dick was still inside of him, and the mess of their cum had begun leaking out. “We’re just getting started.”
Wade gulped. “Uh, right now?”
“Right now,” Logan muttered, not missing a beat as he mounted himself fully, and Wade squeaked, nerves crying out at the overstimulation.
“Does this mean you’ll sit on my face at some point? Maybe we should start with that.”
Logan laughed. Wade felt something in him stir. Maybe it was his heart. Or it might have been his dick. It was probably both.