Archive of Our Own

“Will you SHUT UP already?!” Wolverine hissed between gritted teeth, launching at the other and pressing him into the backseat in a loud thud.

The immortal brat might have his mask still, but even so, his smirk was perfectly perceptible as he answered. “Make me.”

“It’ll be my pleasure,” he spat out, wrapping his fingers around the man’s chin, a low growl collecting in his throat.

“You don’t scare me, man. Wolverine?” Deadpool scoffed. “Sad excuse of a hero, you said. Do you really think someone like you could do anything to someone like me?”

His blood was boiling; Logan’s hand curled into a fist under the other’s mouth, and the growl in his throat became a snarl, which became a bark; with it came the loud hissing of his claws thrashing out, stabbing through Deadpool’s mouth and palate and coming out of the top of his head.

“WOW, tha’ ‘u’in’ hur’s, man!” his opponent still managed to complain, which truly baffled him.

“... How dedicated to being a fucking nuisance can you be?!”

His claws retracted, leaving with the uncomfortable squelch of flesh being reformed behind them. “I was born a nuisance, baby,” Deadpool answered, with this exact tone that he seemed to perfectly know infuriated Wolverine.

Logan grabbed the end of the other’s mask and forced it up his face, pulling on it until it reached the bridge of his nose, and he pushed on it, keeping it firmly on Deadpool’s eyes. “Stop talking,” he ordered again; one hand resting on the other’s forehead, the other trying to force his jaw to stay closed. “Your voice is the most fucking annoying thing I was forced to put up with for a very long time.”

“Hey, at least I am first at something, right?” Deadpool still somehow was able to retort, and this voice, stupidly grinding on Logan’s nerves, finally broke him like the proverbial camel’s back.

He sneered and snarled, but quicker than he realized, his lips had crashed on Deadpool’s, and he had forced this irradiated jaw down, pushing his tongue inside and gulping on the other man’s moans as they reached the back of his throat.

Fuck. This was unexpectedly glorious of a sensation; but most of all… most of it all, when he released him, Deadpool finally remained speechless, with his panting being the only sound coming out of his mouth.^[1]

The man grinned, muttering something about people really loving the chops, and Logan’s hand released the jaw he had clutched on, and their breaths mixing into one another felt like a tender caress on his rough skin; something he hadn’t had in a long time, something that had been out of his reach for so long, he had forgotten he missed it.

And Deadpool remained silent, but his hands wrapped around Logan’s knees, traveling up the back of his thighs, and he had to bite his lower lip to prevent an undignified sound from coming out of him. And yet, the man’s movements, up and down his thigh, the pressure of his fingers growing from a soft caress to a form of malaxation, informed him that Deadpool knew very well what effect it had on him; maybe from his accelerating pulse, maybe from the trembling of his fingers around the man’s forehead, maybe from the heat of his breath going up.

He couldn’t help it—he grew closer, climbing properly on the backseat and hovering over the other man’s lap, barely touching him and yet awfully intimate in his approach. “Come on, little guy,” he groaned, his voice coming out as a gruff whisper, “that all it takes to make you shut it?” He closed the final distance between them, until only a thin layer of air separated their lips. “Had I known that, I would’ve done it sooner,” he finished, before Deadpool—Wade, he supposed he should maybe start calling him, pulled him forward, forcing their lips to meet again.

It had something exhilarating, it felt like another form of battle to be fought; and his body reacted accordingly. His right hand jerked close, and thrashed its long claws into the man’s chest, spraying blood all over them, and Deadpool grunted in pain, his fingers clutching at Logan’s thighs like a lifeline. He probably should have felt regret from attacking this way, and yet, what came out of the other’s mouth, bar the iron taste of blood flooding into it, was a gurgled laughter.

“Yes, hurt me, daddy,” Wade breathed out between their lips, and Logan froze.

“You—What?”

“Hey, you might not believe it, but–oof, alright, now that’s enough—no need to create new holes in me hon, first try filling the one I have!” Wade groaned as Logan’s long claws came out of his body and planted back into his thigh, ripping the suit apart. “Get—off—me!” he grunted, and a knee landed into his ribs, crashing him face first into the window of the car.

The second after, as he was barely able to understand what had happened, Wade was above him, trapping his arms behind his back and pushing him further into the Honda’s door. “My bad, I should’ve given a few ground rules, but c’me on, what a beast you are! So much anger, all lashing out on poor dear little old me! Not that I’m complaining, but…” he added, whispering into Logan’s ear, forcing a long shiver all the way down his spine and tickling his intimacy. Fuck, since when did annoying pricks like him do that to him? “You look like the good ol’ repressed bottom, so I won’t push for that, m’kay?”^[2] the man kept on going, laying on top of his body, and when their hips touched, all Logan could do was attempt to fight back.

He rocked his legs, let his long claws out again in an attempt to liberate himself, feeling them entering Deadpool’s arm like butter, hearing grunts of pain in his ear, but the man had him well under his control. “Shit, you’re a sweet little sunshine, aren’t you?” Wade hissed, his forehead resting on Logan’s back, trying to breathe the hurt away. “So… ground rules. Sure, I enjoy whatever kink you’re showing off right there like any other immortal really, I mean we might just as well make the most of our undying bodies, right?”

Logan wasn’t listening much anymore; he groaned, growled and yelled at Deadpool, demanding to be released, feeling something creeping in his body that he truly, fully hated: panic. He had been ripped off all the control he could have, the other man’s weight heavy on him, his head in danger of rolling out of the car if Wade so decided. He didn’t fear death—who would, in his position? What could death even do to a being like himself?—But he hated being so helpless, so trapped by another person.^[3]

“Let me go,” he ordered in a cold tone, releasing the arms from his claws.

When the other still didn’t obey, he started feeling his heart beating faster, his hands growing sweaty, and became what he would call on a better day fucking desperate. His teeth clenched at the door, offering him some of the physical support he very much needed in this position, and, using the leverage, he forced himself up, grunting until he could place a foot on the car’s floor, and he heaved Deadpool off him with a final jolt of his hips. He released his teeth and turned to face his opponent, who had evidently put his mask back on, and watched him in silence from the other end of the backseat, his legs wide open.

“What?” he barked out, feeling more than eager to throw his claws in that stupid face of his—or his fucking dick, for that matter, whatever would come first.

“Come at me,” Wade declared in a rough voice, and Logan didn’t need him to say it twice; the sentence had barely been finished that the Deadpool had been thrown out of the car through the window, with enough force that he landed into a branch, and remained impaled on it, screaming with affront at the Wolverine.

“Finally,” Logan grunted, sliding out of the backseat and navigating between the two front seats to get back behind the wheel and press his forehead against it. “Just… a little rest,” he murmured, pleading with himself to allow for that small privilege for once.

“Oh, hell no,” he heard from above him, and groaned with annoyance, raising his head to see the dark red suit and the man wearing it, standing on the hood of the car, oozing with anger, a foot tapping nervously on the metallic surface under him. “I am not letting you off the hook, not after what you just fucking did.”

“Come at me,” Logan repeated in challenge, his teeth bared and his hands ready to curl into fists.

Very distinct from the previous launches at one another, Wade entered through the windshield opening slowly and carefully, wrapping himself around the electronics of the Honda and placing his right leg between Logan’s. This had the unfortunate effect, he realized, to shoot electric pulses all over his body, culminating between his legs—in a suit far too tight to hide anything; though he could very well point out the same to the man above him, who was gradually lowering his body until he was sitting on Logan’s right leg.

He smirked, his excitement entering his blood like venom. “Ready for the next roun—?!”

Deadpool’s left foot landed on the side and pushed; the backrest fell down to a fully horizontal position, dragging Logan with it, cutting his breath away in surprise. The man above him had a low chuckle, and forced him to stay down, pressing both hands on his torso and leaning forward, making the hard press between his legs more obvious with each movement of his hips against Logan’s lap.

In a last-ditch effort, which truly he didn’t understand the need for, his claws came out of his right hand, and they landed into his opponent’s sides, who wheezed in pain and visible frustration.

“Oh come on man, stop this!” Wade forced the claws out of him, and pushed against the arm until it was scratching the roof of the Honda with one hand, the other reaching to Logan’s jaw and clenching it roughly. “I’m trying to have an actual thing started here—and I understand, courting ain’t easy, and apparently beasts like you only understand violence, okay—but just one minute!”

Logan’s growls and struggle were shallow; only leaving the semblance of a fight, when all he could think of at the moment were those hips grinding on his leg, this gloved hand wrapped around his face, this masked face so close to his own that he could just… lean forward and touch those lips through the fabric.

“I know, I’m irresistible,” Wade remarked, his tone proud as the movements he kept on making on Logan’s leg. “What do you want from…” he made a vague movement between a twist of his wrist and a finger pointing at the two of them. “This?”

This insistence on trying to talk, to define whatever the fuck was happening was grinding on Logan’s nerves; what was the point of doing that? Why did it matter? They had started with a bloody fight in a hipster car that they had fully totalled by now; how did it matter what they wanted from this?

“Why do you fucking care?”

“Gee, I don’t know, maybe because I don’t think you know what you’re getting into here,” Wade retorted, pulling his left foot up and making his knee rest on the seat, pulling his hips up to gain some vantage over the Wolverine.

The hand on his cheek was tender, a simple, soft touch, the fingers losing themselves into the hairs of his beard, so comforting so that he feared a purr might escape him. The heat surrounding him was nothing like the cold nights he had spent drinking and sleeping in the backroom of a bar, and made it more and more painfully obvious how deeply he had missed human touch; even if it came from the most annoying, most unkillable thing to exist on the planet. His free hand almost moved by itself, reaching for Wade’s thigh, and the fingers slipped through the holes he had created into the suit to feel the bare skin underneath; and he could have sworn that this touch provoked a soft sigh for his opp—was ‘opponent’ really the right word?^[4]

“I know what I’m getting into, I’m not a child,” he growled, his hand continuing a trail up the other’s thigh, cutting his attempt at an answer with a discrete moan. “Hm, someone’s horny, huh?” he remarked, raising a mocking eyebrow; doing his very best to keep from thinking about his own state, about the desperation to feel naked skin against his own was strangling him, leaving him entirely breathless as Wade sat back down, this time pressing knowingly against his growing intimacy.

“Yes, I can tell,” he answered with a tone indicating a large smirk all over his face.

Logan couldn’t—wouldn’t say it, but the smell that Deadpool was drenching him in was intoxicating; the touch of his skin under the suit and through the gloves was warm like the caress of a fire in winter. “Let go of my hand,” he requested in a voice that he hoped would come out as soft, and not violent desperation as he felt inside.

“Promise not to behead me as a weird kind of  foreplay? I’m not sure how I feel about being fucked into my throat like that.”

Logan chuckled, giving him a large grin in response. “Guess you’ll have to trust me and find out.”

“Hmm, was I given any reason to, though?” Deadpool asked in fake pondering, the right hand gently releasing its grip over his wrist.

When he felt he had gained enough control over his own limb, he let the claws sheathe back into his skin, and his hand reached for the other’s throat, his fingers pulling on the fabric of the suit. “Should I?” he asked with a smirk, his fingers curling into loose fists.

“You have weird kinks, man,” the other remarked, his voice laced in slight anxiety, as though he was preparing himself for the impact of adamantium claws scratching his brain from the inside.

“Would you indulge ‘em if I did?”

“Me, the delicate Disney princess—” Logan snorted at the claim. “—you want me to indulge your crass ideas?”

“All brash and mighty all day, but can’t accommodate a simple request like that?” he retorted, his fingers releasing, and one slipping under the mask and hooking it into it. “C’me close, bub.”

Wade obeyed, leaning into his space until Logan’s lips were pressing on the fabric, last thing separating them and keeping their tongues from meeting. They kissed; rather sloppily, rather hungrily, leaving out sighs and mewls and grunts, their hips bucking and moving erratically against each other.

Logan eventually had enough; he pulled the mask off Wade’s face, throwing it on the rear seats, and he attacked again, forcing his tongue into that filthy, swearing mouth. The touch of those lips was heavenly, however broken they were from the transformation that had cursed him into this immortal body; but what brought him to the brink of his self-control was the hitched, breathy moan that came out of his companion’s mouth.

“Oh, fuck,” he let out, and his teeth bit into Wade’s lower lip, pulling on it as he looked at the man closing his eyes in abandon. The grinding was happening so close to his crotch that he could feel his own cock twitching with each movement of Deadpool’s hips, and it would only be a matter of time before he would feel like he was about to explode, fully trapped in his tight bodysuit.

Both his hands reached for Wade’s ass, squeezing it between his fingers and pushing him forward and pulling him backward in a faster rhythm, jerking him off on his leg and drinking the man’s expression like a love potion; the way his eyebrows arched, how his eyes veiled with surprised pleasure as he let himself get guided by Logan’s large hands, how expressive he was without his perpetual mask. Everything about him fell perfectly in place to make him the Wolverine’s companion, reacting with an unstoppable thirst for him, leaning down for another kiss— tongue, spit and long moans included.

“Look at yourself—” he said in a breath, pressing his lips on the bridge of Wade’s nose. “Can’t hide under your mask, and you’re…” Gorgeous.

He didn’t finish his sentence out loud; instead, a growl coming from deep inside his lungs devoured the last word before it could come out. Delicious.

Wade’s lips crashed against his own, arms wrapping around his neck, and Logan felt, just for a single moment, the impulse to slide his hands up and pull him into an embrace. Nothing else; just a moment together, without moving, without talking.

Fuck, he’d really missed human contact, didn’t he?

“Hey hey, peanut, stay with me,” he heard from behind the fog of his own personal grief, and he was met with the warm eyes that were usually hiding under the mask.

He clenched his jaw, forced the melancholy out of his thoughts, and thrusted Wade’s hips forward abruptly, making him crash in a rather undignified manner against him, one leg brushing against his own, hard cock. “Take the bottom off,” he ordered, and immediately, he saw those pupils blown wide, and those lips trembling with anticipation. “Oh, you’re a mess,”^[5] he added with a grin, reaching up and trapping him into a new kiss.

Wade’s eyes shot up, as though he had noticed something on his right, then he looked down, seemingly reading something. “... Wilson?”

“Oh, shut up, my pants aren’t that wet,” he growled in annoyance.

Huh.

“... What?”

“Oh, sorry, was talking to myself,” the motherfucking Deadpool answered with a large grin.

Logan scowled and huffed, but he decided to attack Wade another kind of way. “I would argue that you’re really fucking wet, my leg is drenched already,” he said, a smirk forming on his lips.

“That is nothing, honeycomb. Wait until you actually see me cum.”

“Well, at that rhythm I’m never gonna, am I?”

“Fine, Mr Big Claws. I’ll have to go on the back, this suit is tight, I won’t be able to take it off in this position. Let me…”

And Logan was given the most ungodly sight he had been blessed to see in a very long while; Wade leaned towards him and grabbed the headrest, snaking up his body in a slow undulation that had no right to be so ferociously arousing. He took his time, his suit brushing on the Wolverine’s face, drowning him in—

Was that vanilla?^[6]

That had to be one of the bigger surprises of the day; he took a long inspiration, his lips parting and eyes closing as he took the smell in. When Wade’s hips reached his chin, Logan wrapped his arms around his legs and stopped his movements. “Stay there.”

“Yessir,” he heard him breathe out in a voice that was shriller than usual, and chuckled. He pressed against the other’s legs, forcing them down until his crotch was fully resting on his face, and he breathed the unexpected smell in, purring and growling as he did.

Logan opened his mouth, letting his tongue brush against the red fabric, trailing a wet path on the long bulge and drinking the broken gasps that he received in return. “Yesss,” he hissed, his hot breath tickling the other. His lips wrapped around the length of the bulge, pressing against it and feeling for its details until he felt it twitching, until he smelled the arousal shooting up in Wade’s body. He reached further between the legs, kissing the warm spots and lapping on them until he could hear his companion wheezing and cursing above him; he smirked and stopped for a moment, ripping out of Wade the most desperate whine he ever had been given the pleasure of hearing.

“You like that?” he asked in a honeyed tone, looking up and seeing him clenching at the headrest with one hand, the other reaching up to the nearest grab handle, shivering and panting. His eyes were closed, his eyebrows furrowed in a pathetic expression, on the verge of crying out for more as his lips parted.

Fuck, his messed up, stupidly annoying face had something beautiful to it when it wore this expression; he wanted to see more of it, more often, always, make it his privilege only—like a reflex, like he needed a lifeline to grab onto, he bared his teeth and bit into his thigh, waking Wade from his reverie in a loud shout. “What the fuck are you doing?!”

Logan growled, hiding a pant of excitement as the taste of iron invaded his mouth, with just the lightest sweetness to it—tastes like Wade. More fascinating was—his companion trembled and twitched from the pain, but Logan noted the distinct lack of attempts to shove him away, despite his complaints. As his jaw remained clenched shut around the other’s leg, his hands traveled up the legs, meeting on the swell of his ass and feeling for it, pressing his fingers into the muscles.

The pure, unbridled moan that came out of Wade’s mouth, the peak of arousal that Logan smelled coming from his groin, the way the bulge between his legs twitched—he had definitely hit exactly where the other liked it, and he wasn’t about to stop, not when it was such a delightful experience. His teeth pressed deeper into Wade’s skin, as his fingers parted the muscles of his ass, passing between them in a slow back and forth motion that only made the other more feverish against him, his voice losing any control he might have had on it until then.

“Keep going,” Wade breathed out in a shaky voice, and Logan was far too eager to see more of his effect on the younger man to refuse. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he heard him, as his middle finger pushed down, and he felt for the hole under the fabric. “Don’t you dare stop, I willkillyouifyou—fuck!”

Logan’s hand had retreated up to the limit of his pants, and slipped under them, tracing the line he had just followed, chuckling at the dampness of the skin as he trailed his path down between the asscheeks and ripped more supplications from the other one. He groaned, his teeth embedding themselves tighter into the thigh. When he reached the crack and played around it, Wade’s legs fought him to open wider, and he unclenched his jaw, released the maimed skin and licked the wound until it closed off; giving him more and more wheezes and whines as he went up, pressing his tongue on the throbbing bulge above his face; the reactions were exponentially intense as he played with him, and soon, as his finger gently pressed into Wade’s hole, he felt that the man was getting to the limits of his resistance, and would soon let his orgasm take him fully. Now, it was Logan’s job to push him into that last line, and he intended to do just that; again, and again, and again.

He was growing quite obsessed with the man’s reactions to him.

He let out a hot sigh, his lips parting and wrapping around what he gathered were the balls, his finger going further into the hole, curling to angle properly into it, and Wade whined his name out, trembling above him and panting  as he was forced to crash into the high wall of his orgasm. Logan could almost hear the moment Deadpool passed that limit, a pained mewl and the grab handle ripping off the Honda, making his entire weight crash onto the driver seat. He could very well smell it, as the throb of Wade’s cock grew into a large, wet spot on his suit.

“F–Fuck.”

Logan chuckled, and slid his finger out of the suit, leaving him the liberty to reach the rear seats; Wade took a few seconds to pant and get back his control over an overstimulated body, but eventually passed him and sat down behind the driver seat.

“Alright, let me amend—you do fuck hard, needledick.”

Logan growled in annoyance and turned towards him, only to be hit with the man picking up his mask and threatening to put it back on. “Hey hey bub, you were supposed to get back there to take things off, not on,” he admonished him, rolling off the seat to pass to the rear ones and shove the mask away. “Off with your pants,” he ordered, facing him from the other side of the car, his own throbbing erection forcing his suit into a tent.

He knew very well what was happening in Wade’s mind; he could see it in his eyes, in the way that the adrenaline and thrill of the moment subsided to give place to… well… post-nut clarity, it seemed. The man obviously had deeply rooted insecurities, which Logan could easily pinpoint, with the way he hesitated, the way he tried to reach for his mask, to hide away, to look at options other than uncovering himself.

“I said,” he repeated, baring his teeth, “off with your pants. If you don’t, I’ll take care of it myself,” he added, grinning grimly at him.

But of course, that would not scare Wade, though that hadn’t quite been the point of it; the point had been to get him out of the hole he was burning himself into right before his eyes, to distract him from the thoughts poisoning his mind. And that, at least, worked.

The younger man raised his eyebrows and smirked. “Promise?” He mirrored Logan, sitting against the door on his side of the vehicle, his legs opened widely and placing his hand lazily on his thigh.

Logan’s throat rumbled, a long purr starting from the depth of his chest and finishing on the tip of his tongue, sending vibrations all over his body. “Brat,” he commented, and the other had a large smile, his eyes shining with defiance.

He launched at him, pressing Wade’s chin up and out of the window, biting into his neck to leave a trace and force another moan out of him. “And addicted to pain, at that,” he added, which Wade didn’t try to argue against.

His hands trailed down the other’s torso, quickly reaching the pants, and his fingers slid under the fabric, pulling on it to liberate the skin. Wade’s arm wrapped around his neck, keeping him in place to taste the blood coming out of his throat. His little, discrete gasps as Logan touched his crotch and passed on his thighs as he pushed the suit down were little nuggets of arousal. Slowly, he had to liberate himself from this embrace, as the suit came to Wade’s knees and needed to finish its journey down the legs. He passed it down the calf and pulled it off at the feet.

It was reeking of Wade’s spend, setting his senses ablaze, and Logan brought it to his face, taking a long inspiration and looking into his eyes.

Logan’s eyes were dark with arousal as he brought his pants to his face, his nostrils flaring, his lips parting in a silent pant, and Wade felt an electric wave washing over his entire body, his excitement covering him with shivers. Fuck, the Wolverine was a goddamn animal.

And an animal he kept on being—Logan’s tongue came out, licking Wade’s spend off the inside of the suit, long streaks of it linking his mouth to the fabric. “Oh, that is filthy, love,” he let out, his hand trailing up and down his thigh, his blood rushing back down to the crotch.

Logan's long teeth, still bloody from the bites into him, flashed from under his lips, pressing into the fabric. As he started suckling on it, ridding the suit from all that had been left there, his eyes darkened with feral want were burning into Wade, egging him on, pushing him to tease the crook of his legs. He could feel his cock twitching, needing some attention yet again as the other finished cleaning his suit, letting out his tongue to get rid of the last traces of come before throwing it into the trunk.

“C’me here,” he ordered in a deep voice, veiled with bestial desire.

“Make me,” Wade answered, feeling a swell in his chest, his heart thumping with excitement.

The other smirked, and he barely had the time to see him raise his hand that Logan had roughly pulled on his legs until their hips crashed, leaving him gasping at the shock. “Gladly,” he growled, his hands forcing Wade’s ankles on his shoulders, and he leaned down to press a kiss on the red fabric of his chest, his darkened eyes never leaving his sight. “I’m going to fuck you until you forget your name, bub.”

“Promises, promises…” Wade answered with a crooked smile, trying to forget about the large bulge pressed against his ass, or his own intimacy throbbing at the suggestion. He was—they were both messes as they were, and for fuck’s safe was he the biggest slut in the Void as it stood, but nothing could beat the thunder shining in Logan’s eyes when he was being a brat at him. Nothing at all, not the smirk of satisfaction when he finally would have his way, not the tired growls when Wade was being the embodiment of chaos in front of the most dangerous enemies. Nothing could beat the way the fucking Wolverine’s eyebrows would go up ever so slightly, the way his face would fight against a smile. Nothing could beat the knowledge of having gotten him turned on. “All I’m waiting for is for you to hold them, peanut.”

He was pressed deeper into the seat, welcoming with a gasp the sharp pain of Logan’s blades pinning him into it through his stomach; and he had to admit, as it happened, that he had to force himself to think. It was delicious, and novel, something nobody before had dared attempt in a context that wasn’t fighting. It was exhilarating. And most of all, the low growl that came out of Logan, the twitch Wade felt against his hips… Oh, knowing that the other felt the same way was properly orgasmic. He grabbed the other’s collar and pulled him towards his face, capturing his lips, pushing his tongue inside and delightfully bathing in the groans he received.

“Come on big guy, that all you got for me?”

Oh, the excitement in those low rumbles, in the way he would bare his teeth at him, in the way the fingers of his other hand would tighten around his thigh. “Oh, we’ve barely gotten started, bub.”

The Wolverine’s body shifted, resting more against the backrests, and the next second, Wade not only heard the earth-shattering crack of his foot hitting the Honda’s door out of its hinges, he saw it flying far into the distance and crashing into the branches of the surrounding trees. “Oh fuck,” he managed to let out in a moan, and while he tried to fight it for a moment, his mouth eventually continued. “Snap me like a twig, my goodness—”

His words were eaten by Logan’s mouth reaching his, by his tongue slipping into him and capturing his own into an erratic dance; barely a kiss, really, Wade thought, until that ability was ripped away from him as the older man wrapped his arms around his torso and lifted him up, dragging him towards the large opening he had created. Oh, this was a problem. This was going to be addictive as fuck. Carried around by a man vastly more powerful than he was, so effortlessly that he might just weep. Oh, that felt like a dream, with the way Logan put him back on the seat so gently, only to roughly flip him on his stomach, and Wade could only count his many blessings, all accumulated in this exact moment, in this exact way that the fucking Wolverine pressed against his ass, in the way that his fingers pushed between the cheeks and teased his hole, in the way his breathing was getting hitched and the bulge was becoming painfully obvious and hot against him.

“Just fuck me already,” he whined, clenching his fingers into the leather under him, and oh fuck if Logan didn’t he would start seriously begging for some dick down his fucking ass.

Logan didn’t quite do that, which might have made him weep in desperation if it hadn’t been replaced by the feeling of him doing down to his knees, and the sensation of his rough tongue touching the rim of his ass.

“Shit, shit, shitshitshitshit–” He tried to crawl away, just a little, just enough to be a little shit about it all, but Logan’s arms were wrapped tightly around his legs, and he had pinned him to his face entirely. “Oh, thizuz–”

His speech was getting blurred, his brain losing its grip on his corporation as the tongue delved deep into him, covering his walls with hot humidity, turning and twisting, hitting the points that made him gasp and whine and beg for more, more, more.

He was in trouble, he realized when Logan’s finger—ungloved, at last!—joined his tongue, titillating the entry and slowly making its way inside in a squelching noise that ripped another mewl out of him. Fuck me stupid, fuck me blind, fuck me, fuck me, make me yours like I wasn’t already. He felt himself drooling, and thought for a moment that in his desperation, he was at least lucky enough that the one subjugating him to such treatment was too busy to see the pitiful face he made. He could feel himself shivering in the remains of his suit’s torso, last, lone barrier between Logan and the full view of his broken skin, only more jarring on that part of the body. A little voice tried to tell him—he wasn’t stopped by your face—but why would he believe it—

Logan pulled out, and Wade felt the full force of his need to feel him, fully and entirely, to feel his arms wrapped around him, to feel his warmth against him and inside him, he wanted, he wanted, he wanted him, more than anything. “Fuck, Logan, I thought you were s’pposed to fuck me into tomorro—”

Oh, he said silently, his lips parting as he turned towards the man and was hit with the full view of what had been tenting that yellow suit so harshly. It was large, and long, more than enough to rip him apart—exactly how he craved, exactly what he needed from the man.

“Oh, I will,” Logan said with a smirk and a raised eyebrow, palming his shaft in slow motions. His other hand pressed against Wade’s back, and he felt the fingers closing around the fabric of his blasted suit. “Now, be a good boy…” Wade couldn't hold a gasp, and barely could keep it from becoming a moan. Fuck, Logan was doing things to him with his voice, and he was only starving for his cock more. “And don’t move.”

“Or what?” he asked, mustering a smirk— “Oh, oh shit, yes daddy,” he blubbered out, as the sharp points of Logan's three claws entered his suit slowly and rested on his skin. All he heard behind him was a groan that he wasn’t fully sure was aroused as he hoped it would.

“Just shut up for a bit, will ya?”

“Well, I would if you were—” delivering.

The feeling of Logan’s cock pressing into him, breaching into his ass was some of the most delicious pain he’d ever had felt. Fuck lubricant at this point, this feeling, the sensation of him pushing through his entry and almost—almost ripping him apart as he did was all Wade truly wanted—or thought he deserved, a voice strangely resembling Nicepool’s^[7] whispered in his ear.

He grunted and shook his head, breathing and trying to relax his muscles to let the man take him entirely. “Fuck, it’s good,” he murmured into the leather, before biting into the seat as the damn cock came to the great part. He had been properly gagging for it, but nothing could have prepared him for the shot of electricity that ran through his body as he heard, and felt the long, lascivious purr coming from the other man, reverberating through each of his metal bones and leaving out a deep vibration that sounded like the earth itself was singing. It was bone-chilling, forcing him to the purest silence as Logan’s hips locked with his.

“Finally keeping your mouth shut, I see?” he heard him chuckle behind him, and he nodded, his eyes closed as he reveled in the feeling of being filled entirely. “Aren’t you a sight right now…”

Wade felt the other hand brushing against his ass, circling its many imperfections with perfect motions and presses into his skin, forbidding him from coming back up from the wave of bliss that had pushed him underwater.

Then, Logan moved. Oh, that was one glorious sensation, how his dick would throb inside him, how it would do slow push and pull motions, pressing into his walls, teasing the prostate right there and turning his senses ablaze. He gasped and coughed, fighting to keep a thread of conscious thought within him, but the more Logan pushed and pulled, the more his hips would touch him repeatedly, the more his hand teased the rim of his ass and massaged his muscles, the more he surrendered, until he felt his eyes rolling in their sockets after at particularly well placed thrust, and he could swear that drool had started dripping from his mouth.

“Remind me, bub…”

Oh, something was speaking. Oh, delightful voice, trickling into his ears like honey.

“Who are you, again?”

At another time, he would have felt the smirk in that voice, and would have lashed out with another joke, but right at that moment, all he wanted to think about was for that damned cock to resume moving inside him.

“I—I’m… I’m yours, I’m so fucking yours right now—” he managed to shamelessly answer, expecting more, always more, wanting, needing this heat all around him. And oh, that chuckle sent shivers down his spine, and they stopped at those three claws still well in place on his back. He could have sworn he heard an of course you are somewhere hidden in his own moans as Logan gave him a rough thrust, but said nothing.

He could feel it heating up, he could feel it throbbing and swelling inside him, and as it became evident that Logan was getting close, but wished to keep control over himself, Wade decided that it was a perfect time to be a brat about it. Ignoring the claws threatening to impale him, he pushed his hips towards Logan as he retreated, locking them together again and ripping a moan out of him.

“Oh, so you were hiding that from me the whole time? You slut”, he commented with a large smirk, but this came at a steep, oh gorgeous price.

Logan's growls had become erratic; the more he pushed, the closer he got to the end of his resistance. This one however started deep in his chest, ran through his throat, and resonated in his mouth; his claws entered Wade's body like butter, until his torso was pinned entirely into the seat, and his mouth could barely muster a grunt as he felt the heavy body on his own.

"I believe I told you not to move."

"Oh yes, you—you did say that, didn't—oh, fuck."

"Yes I did," Logan confirmed, his lips trailing up and down Wade's neck, his hot breath paralyzing him with carnal want. "What should I do with you now, hm?"

"Use me, please," Wade moaned with desperation as the other's canines took hold of the lobe of his ear. "Oh please, pleasepleaseplease I can feel you, just finish inside me like a damn tissue, I don't care—"

"Begging for it, huh?" the other groaned, "I will, but first..."

Wade felt the sharp pain of the claws slipping out of him, and his body tingled as it reformed around the holes they left behind. The next instant, an arm wrapped around his chest and lifted it, and he remained against Logan's breasts, gasping for air as the angle of the large cock inside him changed.

"You're going to touch yourself," the order was whispered in his ear, ripping the mother of all moans out of his mouth. Fuck, he was ridiculous, he thought for a moment, as his hand reached for his crotch, teasing the sensitive skin. "Show me how you'd do it."

"Yessir," he blurted out, febrile as his fingers trailed across his hard cock, collecting the precome and spreading it on its full length. Logan wasn't moving, his own shaft deeply embedded into him and throbbing as his own walls were clenching around it with each movement he did.

His fingers wrapped around his dick, and he started a slow up and down motion, whining from the slight overstimulation, from the attention he received, from the purr electrifying him from the ear down to the ass.

"Good. Keep going, bub."

Wade nodded, obeying without thinking, his head throwing back and his lips parting after a particularly perfect movement of his hand. He could hear each of Logan's breaths in his ear, the way they picked up a deeper, faster rhythm as he watched him jacking off, the way they turned into groans, the way he would gulp when one or another movement showed Wade's cock expelling more liquid.

"Keep going," he kept on hearing as encouragement, and every time, Logan's voice was getting more strained by his mounting desire, and soon it was very clear that he was only one step away from crashing into the wall of his own orgasm, with the way the words were hissed in his ear.

That observation alone was enough for Wade to let himself go, giving one, two, three last pumps, pressing his thumb in the perfect line to get hit with a wave of pleasure, finally crossing that limit and letting out a long moan, the back of his head resting on Logan's shoulder. As he did, he felt a pair of canines breaching into the skin of his neck and the rumble of a growl, followed by the largest throb inside him yet and the warm feeling of Logan's come filling him entirely as his own shot all over the rear seat of the Honda.

This pain remained as a testament, as a memory of this pleasure he received at the orders of the Wolverine himself.

Fuck, he could barely wrap his head around that—he'd been fucked by Logan Howlett, so well, so thoroughly that he was left a blubbering mess, barely able to comprehend what the man was whispering in his ear. "Very good."

He had a chuckle, his head turning towards the other man and pressing against his hairy face, nodding in response.

Logan's voice was soft as he spoke again. "Didn't think that'd happen, but it was very fun." He carefully pulled out, ripping pained groans out of Wade as his oversensitive prostate was being hit on in the process, and he let him go.

Wade had to grab onto the headrests around him to avoid falling like a brick into the pools of his own spend, but he kept his eyes closed, his body still struggling to come back down from the high. It had been too long, he realized, and it probably would be another very long stretch before the next time be would get to live that—if he was lucky to get something comparable again.

"Oh, you just ruined me," he chuckled, feeling Logan's come running down his thigh, and he received a chuckle and the press of a hand on his ass.

"I don't think I could ruin you much more than you've ruined yourself, bub."

Wade managed to gain enough control back on his body to stand up properly, more conscious than ever that he was almost fully naked, bar the suit on his torso, and as the bliss of this moment subsided, it cruelly left place for shame and intrusive thoughts, circling around him being but a tool for Logan to use to let his frustrations out. His brain, still a little fuzzy, latched onto the feeling of the many crevasses under the man's bare fingers on his ass, and the more conscious thought he regained, the more desperate he grew to hide back into his suit, to hide under its protection, to hide under the usual snark he managed to pull off with it as his weapon.

"Let me go," he asked in a breath. "I need to..."

"Before I do, turn around, bub."

And so he did, averting his gaze the best he could, far too conscious that Logan was... far more clothed than he had been this entire time. He'd definitely been a useful slut to him, and he probably shouldn't expect any less disdain from him; not when he had lied to his face to get what he needed from him. As pretty of a wrapping 'an educated wish' might be, Logan was perfectly right; he had spilled out that lie like there wouldn't be any consequences to it down the line.

"Look at me," he heard him bark out, startling him into obedience. When he did, he was hit with the man's clenched jaw, the scowl that famously made many a woman swoon, and yet his eyes were the softest thing Wade had seen in a little while.^[8] Then, he remembered; this wasn't his Wolverine, this was The Worst Wolverine, one considered a sham of a Wolverine, the betrayer of his world.

This Logan standing before him had probably spent a long time without being allowed contact with another being, let alone touches like those. They remained in silence for a bit, looking into each other's eyes, until the humidity of their sweat was hit with a cold breeze, and a shiver broke the bubble they had hidden into.

Wade felt a knot forming in his stomach; his hand reached for Logan's cheek, touching it softly and brushing his thumb over the hairs. He saw the other's expression shifting, his traits relaxing until he closed his eyes and exhaled softly.^[9]

Wade rolled his eyes as he read the footnotes, but kept himself from groaning at them, as to not break the intimacy of this moment that Logan so kindly accepted to trust him with.

He figured, or rather he hoped that this meant progress. Maybe, just maybe the man would accept to trust him... Not that he deserved it.

"... I'm going to kiss you, now."

Logan didn't move; but Wade was almost sure he saw the hint of a smile on those lips. He leaned closer to him until their lips touched, and it felt just right.

^[1] Listen, it was a great kiss. Not because it was a good kiss (execution was a bit sloppy if I’m gonna be honest), but because it’s a kiss with motherfucking Wolverine, alright? HUGH JACKMAN! WITH MUTTON CHOPS!

^[2] Listen, consent’s sexy. Dude’s gonna come (hehe) around, but not today he won’t. Gimme time, alright? We’re both immortal, I got time to work through that shell.

^[3] Oops.

^[4] Will you look at that? Growth of character! Believe me, growth is only starting.

^[5] I need to say something here: he wasn’t doing any better, okay? But you guys, when the fucking Wolverine tells you to take off your pants, what’re you supposed to do? Not wet them with your own cum?

^[6] What can I say, folks, I am a vanilla Disney princess now, and Wolverine is my animal companion.

^[7] Ugh, Nicepool, ruining yet another fun time.

^[8] Except Mary Puppins, who are we kidding? Yes, good girl, I'm talking about you yes I am—

^[9] Babygirl is touch starved, you've heard it here first, folks.