bewiiitched

[bewiiitched]

⟩ Sex doll (chapter nine)

• author's note: I just can't wait to bring Logan back fjjfdjekwjd all I gonna say is that I'm addicted to clichés.

Warnings: Violence, mentions of torture, blood, powers as drugs, angst, lies, Wade being a idiot.

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It's one of the times she decides to visit Althea, where everything starts to go wrong.

It was a day off that she had thought of spending with Logan, but he had gone out with Laura under the pretext of looking for a normal job. His impatience with the mercenary growing more and more every time they were involved in missions, despite the fact that both were impossible to kill, she knew that he felt something similar to concern for the mercenary's carefree behavior, the proof of which being how his yellow suit was always more torn than Wade's, which hid any trace of blood that could stain it.

As much as he didn't want to admit it, their relationship had become closer despite the constant provocations between them, and there was no doubt in the young woman's mind that part of it had been due to the fact that they had both saved the world.

So when she knocks on the apartment door, a slight smile tugs at her lips as she hears the old woman's voice from the other side of the door.

“Althea.” She greets, and hears the woman murmur a greeting in a relieved tone, a complaint about how she finally had some peace now that they were both gone. “Hm? Wade's gone too?”

She asks a bit confused and the first thing she thinks of is how a job search involving the three of them would end.

“Yeah, yeah. Something about a mission with him, and he better be back soon, he promised to bring me more snow.” She grumbles, and though the first thing she notes in her mind is how it was probably a drug gang deal judging by her answer. She can't help the way her heartbeat echoes in her ears as she realizes the situation.

She takes a deep breath out of inertia, thinking there must be a good reason why Logan would lie to her about his whereabouts, but her blood boils despite that, wanting, needing to know what the reason could be for them to have pushed her away. It wasn't a drug gang.

She knows that asking her won't get her anywhere, but she's too anxious to care. “Did they tell you anything about where they went?”

Her voice is tense, and she watches her rummage through the drawers for what is probably cocaine, but she stops when she notices the change in her tone, her frown and her head turning in her direction, following the sound of her voice. “No.”

She answers, but there's a question in her tone, not only because they both know she doesn't get involved in missions anymore, but because she's starting to think the mercenary has tricked her.

She hums in response, her gaze darting around the room but her frustration growing when she sees nothing useful, no clue that could help her figure out what was going on. “He told me he was going with Laura.”

The older woman lets out a huff that ends up cementing her annoyance. “I’m pretty sure handsome there has been here all afternoon until they left. They said something about, ah…my memory isn’t what it used to be, but was it something like fake codeine?”

She murmurs, not sounding entirely sure but her attention is drawn back to her when she hears her choke on her own saliva, something like panic shaking her breath and the only response he gets is the sound of the door slamming shut as she flees the apartment.

(...)

She wants to get rid of the idea, like she wants to crawl out of her skin, the thought that she may find herself wrapped up in the organization again even though she had given up on it. Deep breaths do little to calm her and focus her thoughts, and her frustration only grows when she goes to find the report on her powers that Killebrew had written, detailing the change that had come after the first suppression.

Like a hurricane, she messes up half the room until she rummages through her closet, and the folder where she kept the documents is empty, as are the missing blood samples, the same ones she had stolen from the lab at the risk of them trying to create some experiment on her like they had done with Logan.

The thought of calling the mercenary crosses her mind, because she knows she will have no way of locating him if he is hell-bent on hiding whatever they are planning from her, but she doesn't. And a part of her is worried, pissed off, and scared in equal parts that she is being left out of something that so deeply involves her.

(...)

When Logan returns to the apartment, he instinctively stops at the door frame, the scent of her not going unnoticed by him even though his hearing confirms that there is no one in the house. But the emotional trail she left behind overwhelms him for a moment before he enters, and it is not until he steps into the room they now share that he curses under his breath, pillows on the floor, blankets unfolded and the closet door is open with the hangers moved to the side, revealing the space where her chart was supposed to be.

And her blood.

He realizes that she must have left in the same hurry that she entered, but he has little time to analyze the situation further when he notices the presence of the mercenary approaching the apartment and goes to the living room, opening the door before he has a chance to knock.

There is frustration written on the mutant's face, his jaw clenched as if he were going to stab the mercenary with the same daggers that his gaze sends in his direction. “You said she wouldn't notice.”

He growls, and his hand wraps itself in the fabric of Wade's suit, close to grabbing him by the throat, Wade raises his hands in a peaceful gesture, but the nervousness is evident in his tone. “She hasn't! She doesn't know anything yet!

His nostrils flare, and he feels stupid, just as stupid as he felt the first time the mercenary made "an educated wish" about saving his universe, but this time they both share the blame,

And he can't shake off the feeling that his body is tingling at the thought of not knowing where or what the female is thinking. Worry eats away at him, and the mercenary's attempts to appease him are not few.

"Her first instinct has always been to runaway, so if she's looking for answers she can't be too far away.”

(...)

Even though the vast majority of the project staff had been killed by Deadpool in his attempt to find answers about Ajax's whereabouts, in a larger scheme the female knew that the lab work hadn't been done alone, just as Killebrew had collaborated with more scientists when it came to running the project even though they weren't nothing permanent.

However, her first step is to try to find out what they had been investigating, so she keeps a low profile, and he hopes that at least part of what the mercenary had told Althea was true and that it was a drug issue. Hours of questions and frustrations pass until she finally gets something, and she doesn't know whether to laugh or cry because the "fake codeine" hasn't spread so openly through the streets.

What she gets is not much, and she finds herself not so kindly questioning two pairs of dealers who had confessed to receiving the substance in previous days, when she makes out a figure approaching them.

She glances sideways, still holding the gun in the direction of the guy she doesn't have a hold of, while the one she does corner throws nervous glances at his partner. "I don't know anything else. I-If you're a policeman, we're only in charge of delivering."

He justifies himself defensively, and the young woman notices his accelerated heartbeat, giving him a condescending look. It’s then that she feels the phone vibrate in her purse and she doesn’t need to know who it’s from.

“Who are you getting this from?” she hisses, losing her patience, and the gun turns in his direction when she sees him shake his head.

But it’s neither of them who answers, and her gaze turns in the direction of the voice. “A mental institution outside the city.”

He’s a homeless man, and she knows from the way his body shakes that he’s been under the effects of her power, her stomach churning at the thought, how his body is receptive to something he can’t understand.

“Get out of here.” She growls, letting go of the man and they both run away. There’s wariness evident in her gaze, she can see the hunger, the need for stimulation, and she doesn’t want to wonder how the man deduces that she’s the source of his addiction. “Where else?”

“There’s a shelter a few blocks back. I can take you there.” He answers, and her eyes follow him, watching him look around urgently. She can’t tell if the urge he suffers is from the stimulation of her power or the lack of it.

Reluctantly, she nods, but when she lets him come closer, she knocks him out, gently placing him on the ground before calling an ambulance. Her mind, however, is elsewhere.

She gives the address of the place, but there is no sign of her when the ambulance arrives and has set off to reach the outskirts of the city, when she checks her calls she can see Wade’s number being her last call and decides to turn it off.

If her hunch was right, the shelter would be nothing more than a mere test to see the effects of her power. The institution, however, the place where they would all end up when the situation became problematic.

It was never her main purpose in the project, but in retrospect she realizes perhaps the only reason she hadn't ended up killed by Ajax, is because they needed something more from her, that they had something more useful that made the rivalry between her and Ajax take a backseat.

(...)

It's all darkness when she arrives at the place. And the feeling of unease only grows when she sees the suburb in which it is located, and she can swear that whatever they are doing in the shelters of the city, it is just a whim to not attract attention, since the area guaranteed them enough people with whom they could experiment.

Getting past the security personnel is easier than expected, the guard who watches the door for obvious reasons does not expect to see a girl alone at 4 am.

“Stop there, sweetheart. This is private property. Can I help you?” He asks, but the concern is short-lived when a blow to the back of his head against the wall makes him fall and drags him where the cameras can't capture him.

The buzz of the door opening puts her on alert, even more so when the sound contrasts with the deathly silence of the place. Part of her knows that it had been a misplaced hope to think that the project had come to an end. For lack of another way to describe them they were like cockroaches multiplying, and as long as there was an idea left to profit from, Weapon X would form again.

Her gaze travels to the reception area, which is empty, and continues until she sees the sign that identifies each floor of the building.

Her senses pick up a second heartbeat and she is quick to hide behind a wall, the sound of approaching footsteps makes her react and her hand is placed over the mouth of the nurse, who looks at her frightened, and the situation only intensifies when she can see the recognition in her gaze. A turn and she is cornered against the wall, hand on her neck squeezing hard enough to restrict her airflow. “My blood, where they hide It?”

Her tone is demanding, and her gaze follows her hand, watching her make the sign of two. Being right is far from comforting, and being recognized is like receiving a kick in the stomach. As tempted as she is to knock her out and get a problem off her chest, she decides to drag her along with her.

And she pulls a syringe from her pocket, which she places at her throat.

“If you lie to me, you’re going to join them.” She threatens, her eyes focused on the young girl writhing under her grip. And she shakes her head dramatically, making her squint. “What’s your name?”

“M-Mary.” she answers in a shaky voice now that the pressure on her neck has lessened.

“You know me.” And it’s not a question, the girl gulps, a soft nod in response before her grip tightens again in warning. “Tell me everything.”

(...)

Despite having been in the project since before Francis was enhanced. Suspicions about the organization didn’t come until she herself began visiting the lab as something more than just to keep the patients in line. She was the only mutant, and her powers didn’t need any enhancement, but the original purpose for which she had agreed to be part of them.

Her reluctance to torture hadn't gone entirely unnoticed, and before she could realize it, Ajax was positioned over her, like a wolf stalking cattle after her powers were contained. Her fluids as an object of study that never yielded answers, too busy with torture and missions to have time to question herself.

But the questions come back to her as she reaches some kind of lab, she didn't expect to get too much information out of the nurse but she needed to know where to move before she was discovered. Years of being forced to ask and then hit hadn't quite contained her nature, hit and then ask.

As the nurse had said, she manages to get her file out of one of the drawers, puts it away among her clothes, her attention returning to the fridge that holds her blood samples and at first she grimaces at the amount. She had never visited the lab so many times to generate such a quantity.

It's no surprise to her that her blood is being used as a stimulant, it is, however, that it continues to have an effect even when her powers aren't being used over the victim.

“It took you a while to come out of hiding, my dear.” A laugh follows the man’s voice as he barely speaks half a sentence before the young woman’s gun is pointed in his direction, her enhanced senses kicking in and suddenly the idea of ​​killing sounds more tempting. Her gaze is fixed on him, and the nurse retreats after a condescending gesture from the man. “Pulling the trigger won’t get you answers.”

His voice is calm, but the image he’s trying to create contrasts with the doctor she knows, and she can tell the stress has taken its toll on Killebrew’s face but he takes her silence as a sign to keep talking. “Killing us won’t be the end. You should know that after how it ended last time. You joined us to control your powers, and you succeeded.”

The sound of the gun going off-safety echoes through the room.

“Yeah.” It’s the only thing she says before a bullet rips through the doctor’s knee, the scream echoing through the halls as she sees the man curse and writhe in pain, she sees him pull back as she approaches until she kneels in front of him. “But I never asked to go around torturing people.”

“You had a purpose. You still do, don’t be stupid.” He growls through his teeth, bringing his hand over the wounded area and paling at the bleeding, as his pants soon turn crimson.

“My purpose ends with Logan.” She answers without hiding her rage in her voice, and her grip on the gun tightens when her senses pick up footsteps approaching in a hurry, she decides to go the peaceful way, and quickly dodges the guard who enters the room, sliding across the floor and twisting his arm behind his back before kicking his partner in the stomach, making him hunch over. Keeping him by the arm she pushes him against the other, making them both fall and pointing the gun again.

“The addiction,” she begins, looking at Killebrew. “It shouldn’t develop without my powers, what the fuck have you done?”

She asks, frowning and remembering the multiple tortures, how she had believed that the effects of her power had been something temporary, that physical contact was nothing more than the match that lit the gasoline that was her blood, and yet, they were wearing her down without her being involved.

The idea of ​​being compared to codeine was confusing on its own, being that her power had always been more about stimulating the nerves to control the various sensations rather than numbing.

“It alters the neurochemistry of the brain,” He explains and her brow furrows even more, her jaw clenched as she tries to maintain her composure and not spread red on the white walls. “Nerve control gives you power, but your fluids guarantee your survival. As a mother secretes hormones that bond her with her newborn, they will not want to kill the hand that feeds them. They crave stimulation, before you can even choose what to do they become addicted to whatever you offer them through your blood.”

Suddenly her mission with Logan makes sense, not just because he had been able to harm her while under her power, which she had blamed on how his regeneration healed his nerves constantly preventing a control that lasted.

“You think it will susceed?” She mocks, shooting his shoulder this time eliciting another scream and sees the two men tense, but ends all initiative to move when he turns the gun on them again.

Despite the pain, the expression on the doctor's face makes it clear that he is underestimating the addictiveness of her fluids and she can feel her stomach turning.

(...)

The whole situation gives her goosebumps, now that her clothes are covered in blood she has little interest in thinking about the consequences when all she can think about is whether the victims would suffer long-term damage. As if it were possible the hallways are even more silent despite the sound of gunshots, and there is not a soul to be found despite the fact that the building is not small.

Her mind turns over the contents of her file as well as Killebrew's words, and for the third time, she feels her phone vibrate against her hip.

"What?" She picks up without hiding her annoyance, keeping her gun in the other hand she continues advancing through the hallways, and rolls her eyes when she hears the mercenary's apology. "Fuck you. “ she spits, and the concern she hears in his tone for her safety only pisses her off more, it’s the last thing she cared about at the moment. “You had no right to keep it from me, Wilson.”

“I know!” He replies, his tone slightly higher for emphasis. “I thought- I thought it would be quicker if we took care of it ourselves, while you continued to ruin your life commuting from work to home.” He knows his attempt at a joke isn’t appreciated, but he still tries to get her to tell him where the hell she is. “Please, please, tell me you’re not doing something stupid.”

For a moment she falls silent, because it’s not exactly wise to have walked into a place alone that profited from her powers and wouldn’t kill her because they needed her fluids.

She stops dead when she hears footsteps approaching, and by inertia she leans against the wall, watching out of the corner of her eye two nurses cross the hallway carrying a stretcher with a woman who did not look in good condition at all.

“Tell me where you are”

“Saint Helen psychiatric hospital.”

(...)

However, when they both arrive there is no trace of her, and all attempts to locate her are useless when before leaving she had abandoned her phone, leaving it on the chair in the reception area.

On the other hand, the silence in the place is even more overwhelming when as they explore following her trail there is nothing but blood and corpses of the personnel involved, to the surprise of the mercenary, including the lifeless body of Killebrew. The patient's rooms are no exception, since there is no sound and in the place it could be noticed how they had been forced into unconsciousness.

"It was her." The mutant murmurs, scanning the room, by the persistence of the smell he could assume that she had not left long ago, but that did nothing to relieve him.

"You're a genius, peanut, is there nothing else your Scooby doo nose can tell us?" He hisses frustrated, and steps back slightly at Logan's growl, the concern of both makes the tension return, and this time his thoughts are focused on her rather than on avoiding a beating by the mutant.

“The man said they were spreading it around the streets...” he begins, glancing at the mercenary out of the corner of his eye, but his brow furrows as he sees him abruptly exit the room. “Hey.”

He calls out to him, only to be ignored and reluctantly follows him, watching him enter the room where the doctor’s corpse was located. But before he can stand in the doorway, the mercenary speaks. “What do you smell when you’re in front of him?”

“What?” he asks out of inertia, frowning as he wrinkles his nose, the whole place reeked of stress, but it wasn’t easy to pinpoint the cause.

“I think she’s trying to relieve them. Like she did to me in the lab. He has signs of torture, see the stiffness in his body?” he asks, bringing his gloved hand to his jaw and though trying to understand him, Logan just looks at him as if he were stupid.

“He’s dead. Of course he's ten-”

“No.” He cuts him off, emphasizing the denial as he points to the corpses of the guards. “She killed him with her power, probably tortured him trying to figure out how to fix the rest.”

That catches Logan's attention, and he kneels in front of the corpse, squinting as he notices how the muscles on the man's body are much stiffer compared to the two men, and it's because of the proximity that he notices the blood staining his lips. “I don't use just pain.”

“Yeah. I think that was evident from the stain on his pants, I bet the remaining blood went elsewhere before he died.” The sarcasm in his voice stops and quickly when they hear hurried footsteps in the hallway and both become alert, but Logan is faster in approaching the door and intercepting the woman who was fleeing.

“ Woah, woah, calm down, blondie. ” Wade intervenes when he sees her struggle with the mutant, and the dismay in her expression is clear, as is the blood on her clothes.

“ What happened? ” Logan asks, frowning and standing in front of the door to cover the corpse of the doctor who had been staring so intently.

“ She tried to cure the affected. I told her it wouldn't work, but she didn't listen to me and then she tried to cure that man but d-died, she lost control. ” she stammers, swallowing saliva when she remembers it. As if she could still see the panic expression on her face as the old man's body fell at her feet, the blinding rage that preceded Killebrew's cries of pain.

“Fuck.” Logan curses under his breath, and he can feel Wade tense beside him, as if he’s remembering something.

However, the young woman continues to recount the situation. “I tried to get help, but she locked me in the bathrooms.” She answers in a firm voice, shuddering slightly under the mutant’s gaze.

“They’re unconscious. What does that mean?”

“It’s just temporary relief. Their blood, it creates an addiction process.” and from the expression on both of their faces, she can tell they’re aware of that fact. “Their powers create the stimulus they become addicted to. But in the absence of it, they tried to replicate it through normal means, and it worked.”

“Now, that’s just great, now you have a group of masochistic drug addicts.” He grumbles, and ignores the exasperated look the mutant gives him. “Is there really no solution?” ”

Logan's brow furrows even more as she sees her deny it. “No, it's not a nervous problem that she can fix, it's damage to the brain and the withdrawal syndrome that they get when they stop using it is even worse, the addiction weakes, but by becoming addicted to the pain, they end up not measuring the damage they cause themselves and put their lives at risk.”

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Taglist: @bontensbabygirl @twinky-wink

[bewiiitched]

⟩ Sexdoll (chapter eight)

• Autor's note: I had a hard time getting inspired the last few days and this isn't what I planned at all but then it did come to my mind how is supposed to be two Logan's (and two Laura's) in Deadpool timeline since Logan is still alive in 2024. And well, things are gonna get bittersweet.

Warnings: none.

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It's no small victory that Logan has decided to sleep next to her again. And the mutant can't ignore how, in small steps, the alcohol in her life is diminishing.

There was no part of him that would have dared to broach the subject, not when the amount of alcohol she ingested was minimal compared to his own, but being aware of the inferior healing factor in her was a constant torment, so he is caught completely off guard when the bottles are not replenished in the wooden display case where she kept them. The pack of beer she bought was only replenished on Tuesdays, and now her extra pay was only based on money. Nightmares are cured by the warmth of his chest instead of the burning in her throat from cheap liquor. The same bottle of Vodka remains half full for weeks even though she can't sleep, and when worries plague her, they take a backseat as her fingers wrap around his hair and the tips of her fingers make small circles on his scalp.

However, it's not the only achievement, since despite her initial reluctance, Logan ended up accepting to work with Wade on some of his missions. The idea was not foreign to her, since she had received the same offer from the mercenary in the past and could count on the fingers of one hand the times she had accepted, given that she refused to use her powers on others and although the type of criminals had varied considerably, in her case she always focused on attacking organized crime gangs, getting some information and letting Wilson finish the job.

The sound of the hands of the clock hanging on the wall is her only company when cleaning, and she unconsciously hums a song to motivate herself, that is until she hears a light tapping on the window that faces the street. She doesn't need to look to know what it is about him since his smell is enough, and when she turns to see him over her shoulder, his grumpy expression makes it clear that he is rethinking his decision.

“Has it gone that badly?” She asks, trying to hide the hint of amusement in her tone. Her last “job” had been half a year ago, but she couldn't blame the mutant for getting exasperated when Wade didn't take the situation seriously. Her hand goes to a bottle of Jack Daniels that is on top of the shelf, when his hand grabs her wrist, stopping her from standing on her toes to grab it.

“No need. ” He answers, his tone is a little rougher due to tiredness, but his touch is just as gentle as ever as his hand positions itself on her lower back. “I thought he wasn't serious during our time in the void. In comparison, I was wrong.”

He growls, and can't help but laugh at it, he breaks off with a light hum and his hands position themselves over hers, gently pushing them away as he turns around, both of them face to face, she can't help but glance at his suit.

“ So you're the hero of the city now?” She murmurs, her hand runs down his chest, and Logan clenches his jaw with his hand closing on her wrist, stopping her.

“ I'm not hero, doll. ” His response is instantaneous and she gives him a guilty look, but that doesn't mean she agrees, she had believed that they had gotten out of that pit of guilt and rejection, but obviously she was wrong. “ Even if I saved your timeline, it's the least I could do. ”

He adds, his expression more tense than before as he sees the challenge in her gaze, but she doesn't answer. His brow furrows more and more as the seconds pass and the words are on the tip of her tongue. “He told me how you were about to sacrifice yourself, not just anyone is willing to die for strangers.”

She emphasizes, and his wrist twists free of her grip to wrap both hands around his neck. His brown gaze darkens as he remembers the event, how Wade had cataloged him as the best Wolverine shortly after and yet, the events of his past still haunted him.

She is not the best example to get him out of that pit of darkness, but she tries to move the subject away.

“You know how Wade wasn't born mutated...” she begins, only to stop when he sees her expression, and realizes that in reality, he didn't know that detail. Her lips turn into a line as she senses that this isn’t territory she needs to be talking about, so despite the confusion on the mutant’s face, she continues speaking, putting a finger to her lips when he opened his mouth to interrupt her. “Well, now you know. None of the victims did it, actually. There was this whole process to create a mutation, and I spent months sabotaging the creation of new mutants.”

Something clicks in Logan’s brain and she can see the understanding in his expression, it’s almost adorable how she can see the gears in his head turning and connecting the dots. “He told me how you took over in the torture.”

She hums in response, a look of regret crossing her face. “I didn’t always do it because I could get caught, but in the absence of a regenerative factor, I would turn off the nerves so they wouldn’t feel pain and interrupt the whole process, but they always ended up dying…”

The dismay is written on her face and hee lower lip trembles slightly at the memory. Even worse when she has the shadow of Francis’ hands on her neck after discovering what she had been doing.

“You had good intentions…” Her snort cuts him off.

“Hell is full of good intentions.” She answers dryly, brushing the hair from her face. “If I had never been taken out of the base and sent on all those missions, everything would still be the same, I would still be torturing innocent people or sabotaging their progress, but I would be still killing people.”

But it would all end the same, with death or dozens of supersoldiers. They learned from Stryker, controlling mutants is deadly, but mutating humans is unstable.”

The frustration is obvious, but her small outburst doesn't let the mutant's flinch go unnoticed at the mention of Stryker. And although Wilson had vaguely given her details of the multiverse, she hadn't been able to help but wonder if all of its variants got the adamantium claws and ended up being a heavyweight through the same process.

They both try to get rid of each other's wounds but it's like putting out a fire with gasoline. “I'm not like you, or Wade. I brought on everything that happened to me.”

She finishes, and silence is all she finds from the mutant, his gaze goes to his own suit, the only memory he had of his own universe, he remembers the screams in the same way that the young woman remembers the only two times she fought against Francis.

“I lost control when I got back to the mansion. “He starts, but his voice shakes. “All I could focus on was the smell of blood, I could still smell the traces of fear and worry that were in the rooms, and they were all gone.” He says through gritted teeth, his gaze filled with helplessness as he continues. “They were still looking for more mutants when I killed them, every single one of them… I started losing control more often.”

His voice sounds thick, and he sees her nod slightly, understanding written all over her face as she looks away, a shaky sigh. “Alcohol was the only thing that could keep me distracted, I needed to drown that rage, but I could barely contain it. ”

Looking up, she swallows, confirming in that instant how he had followed her in her attempt to quit alcohol, although theirs had been a gradual process, part of her was tempted to tell him that there was no need for him to join her sobriety but she could barely imagine the frustration it must be that his regenerative factor would eliminate the alcohol in his body when he wanted to forget the memories and she only used it to fight a few nightmares. “Don’t do it…”

She murmurs without hiding her concern, her gaze focusing on one of the many bottles that had been left on the bar, and despite the bitter taste in their mouths that they both shared from their experiences, his expression softens in understanding and a growl rumbles in his throat.

It had been about two months since their first meeting, but that's when Logan realizes how his heartbeat is pounding in his ears at the gleam in her eyes, a mix of guilt and devotion as if he were worthy of something more than perpetuating the path of violence he had always followed, as if she had decided to stay with him despite everything, as if her hands could be used for something more than getting blood on themselves. The faith he perceives from her dries his throat, although the sensation is not entirely unknown, he had felt the same rejection with Laura and Wade at their expectations, how they believed it could be something better than what it was, as they knew it was from the beginning.

He keeps thinking about how little he really knows about the situation, how Wade barely detailed how Ajax and her came to confront each other at some point, being the background of her being removed to external missions and in turn, the little he knows about his own roommate, it's not that he completely trusts the mercenary's versions when she had made it clear that there were certain aspects that she was hiding from him. And he can't help but think of the scene as Wade had told him, how it had been a matter of time before it was discovered, so being present in the fight alone was like watching two divorced parents argue.

It had happened days before his escape, Wilson was no stranger to what the female had been doing for weeks, and it had become a sort of silent pact between them that she was relieving him of torture even after he had mutated. So she found himself visiting him more often, gravitating around him and ignoring his jokes and questions, being more like a puppet that appeared and disappeared for nothing more than trying to repair the damage she helped to create.

Not that it was any different that time, entering the basement where they kept him she barely gave a nod to greet him, but she still found it difficult to adjust to the idea that his body did not show the signs of torture to which they continued to subject it. Sometimes she was tempted to answer him, but she always kept silent since she knew how constant Ajax's presence was on both of them, and the special interest he had developed in testing his limits.

A syringe of her blood preceded the familiar tickle on her fingertips, how they wave through his body, noticing the previous pain under her touch only to see the spasms in his body as she forcefully calms it, his muscles relaxing, his skin tickling and his breathing regulating.

“I’ll be back in a bit.” is all she says, but she can barely get out of the place and into the hallway when a hand closes on her neck, lifting her up, the figure of Ajax stopping her in his iron grip giving her no room to speak.

“Of course you will.” he hisses, everything in him screams danger and Wilson’s voice in the background reaches her ears, but she can barely pay attention to it when Everything around her sounds distant. And then she feels it, the burning in her body that makes her fingers curl, every muscle in her body tensing and like an electric current, she hears him growl, his grip losing strength as her powers take over. Panic won’t let her think clearly, and she goes all out when her hand closes on his arm, the spasms in his body beginning and her feet hitting the ground again. Years of holding back makes losing strength in her senses and reflexes feel like sinking into quicksand, and it only makes her more alert, since the only advantage she has is that she can paralyze him, that not hurting him.

“Don’t even think about telling them,” she threatens, and her tone is relentless, her hand traveling to her lower back, pulling out a gun that she places on his forehead. “No feeling pain and no having nerves are two different things.”

She reminds him and there is a dangerous edge to it, one that makes her see how the cornered animal she is and that she won’t stop once she snaps, but it’s not just the certainty in her words that creates fire in his gaze, but how even though he wants to tear her apart, his body is numb and it only gets worse, his legs ending up giving out.

Despite the situation, she is reluctant to kill him, making it obvious that she feels pushed to do so so even when she puts the safety back on the gun, her powers still affect him, and the look he gives them both from the floor when she leaves the room is promising.

(...)

“Logan?” Her voice, shy and worried, brings him out of his thoughts, and he clears his throat. She doesn’t realize it, but he remembers the mercenary’s words and there is no past destructive enough that can make him think of her as nothing more than a victim of circumstances.

“You held back. “He murmurs, more to himself than to her and she sees his brow furrow in confusion. His tongue moistening his lips as she sits up and her arms leave his neck.

“with who?” she asks, a slow blink that could be almost comical.

“Him.” He answers seriously, and the tension in her body is immediate, no need to name his original version. But he is not wrong and she gives a slight nod in response as she waits for him to continue, to make his point clear so when he doesn’t, it is she who falters in her speech.

“It’s different.” Her words come out halting but she is defensive as she looks at him. “I didn’t want to hurt him, I guess I subconsciously didn’t go all in. Francis, though…”

The last time she faces him, she can't recognise herself, blood boiling at the recent news and both aware of each other, what their actions had meant for the project, both on a tight rope as Ajax was seen as the one esponsible for the escape of the now called Deadpool and the burning of the former lab.

Her comings and goings to the base are becoming more and more spaced out in time, the missions becoming more constant and she tries not to think too much when her main purpose is based on attracting more helpless people who can mutate while Francis cleaned up the mess.

So when her new purpose reaches her ears, everything around her explodes. — AJAX!

Her scream echoes, the sound of her heels resonating on the floor as she searches for him, door by door and hallway by hallway, ignoring how the rest of the staff evaporates as she walks, everything in her trembles and she sees red when she finally finds him coming out of a torture room, his white coat splattered with blood.

She advances towards him in giant steps before launching herself at him, fueled by fury, helplessness written on her face that only grows when he dodges her fist and grabs her wrist only to receive a kick to the stomach that sends him against the door frame and drags her with him, in response her wrist creaks, but there is no scream that follows the breaking of the joint.

His gaze darkens as a satisfied smile grows on her face, the understanding that they both feel no pain now, so forcing her damaged limb, she twists it free of his hold but Ajax is faster and grabs her hair, slamming her face into the wall, again and again, the crack of her nose preceding the shudder that indicated her control over her own body was failing so she doesn't even consider using her fluids. The third time he goes to hit her, her foot hits the wall hard creating distance as she pushes her body back, her hand grabbing the one that was pulling her hair and they both give in, for different reasons, taking a while to process that he has frozen behind her, a moan escaping her lips as her power returns to its original state. And when she finally recovers, the tension in her body is evident, the pain being fuel for her burning gaze.

She turns sharply, still holding her hair in his hand, and pulls a knife from her thigh sheath, stabbing his chest until all her frustration comes out, she just growls and gasps, seeing his body covered in blood as they both fall to the ground, her power over him and her fury only growing at the thought that it doesn't hurt him.

She registers Angel’s voice screaming her name, but when she looks up seeing her approaching from the end of the hallway, the bloodlust written on her face makes her stop halfway. The wariness in her gaze because it’s clear her powers have been unleashed if Ajax is like this.

“Back off.” She grunts, not stopping herself from attacking him, abandoning the knife and hitting the back of his head over and over again like moments before he had broken her nose. Out of the corner of her eye he sees her approach, and her expression turns condescending when the mutated woman’s hand closes on her forearm.

“Wait for me there, sweetheart.” She murmurs to Francis in disgust before focusing on her new problem, watching her squirm listlessly and her touch abandons him to focus on her, grabbing her arm and making her feel nothing but pain until she finally passes out, falling with a thud.

“I thought you’d like the new position.” He scoffs, spitting blood and her foot slams into his stomach in anger, the tip of her heel digging into his flesh.

“I’m not a fucking whore.” She hisses, still shaken by the thought of having to face the damn wolverine. And the laughter that follows lets her know he doesn’t agree, but it’s cut short when she grabs him by the neck, kneeling down and lowering herself to his height as his body obeys her. “I don’t know how you convinced them but you better get this shit sorted while I’m gone. Because if I die, you’re Wilson’s whore.” ”

(...)

To this day, she still blamed the mercenary for not having recorded Francis' death but it was something she had learned to live with until her birthday came around and she remembered it again.

“ That was the last time I lost control like that, and well, you know the rest.” She speaks, but she can't hide the satisfaction she felt at having unleashed on him after so long. “ The only reason we didn't kill each other was because we were both crucial...”

His expression is unreadable as he looks at her, but his gaze softens as he remembers the incident that had occurred at the bar during his absence, understanding the reluctance to lose control, and he can't say he disagrees, the murderous rage he had felt after the death of the group had shaken him to the bone.

“ Let's go home. ” She whispers, her voice vibrating low as she tries to ignore how her heartbeat is racing, the discomfort she felt after having opened up to him like so many other times and him still not judging her, not seeing her as the monster she felt she was, the one she had become after activating her powers having isolated herself from all physical contact at the risk of harming others, how she had stained her hands with blood for never being able to control herself, how even after managing to suppress herself her powers were still a danger, despite being studied by the project as if to conclude that her fluids could be useful even if she wasn't involved, specifically, her blood.

/////

Taglist: @bontensbabygirl @twinky-wink

[bewiiitched]

Sex doll (chapter seven)

WARNINGS: MDI, +18, alcoholism, violence, angst, a little of power background, fluff, smut, soft!Worst!Logan, P in V, creampie, age gap (reader mid 20's)

///////

It is only the background noise that ends up waking the mutant, and at first he sits up somewhat alarmed until his gaze travels to the end of the hallway, where the light in her bedroom is on and he can only assume that she is getting ready to go to work when his gaze focuses on the clock hanging on the wall, the fact that the room is in darkness is not a problem for him, since his senses adapt to the lack of light and he ends up deciding to sit up as well.

But the sound of the shower catches his attention and he grimaces, she is running late. He realizes this, since the light begins to filter through the curtains on the terrace.

She storms out of the room, her hair still wet and her uniform half-fixed, struggling to put on her apron, she walks blindly after turning off the light in the room so as not to wake him, her hand groping for her bag that she had left on the counter but she can't find it.

"Are you looking for this?" He mumbles, throwing the bag in her direction, the lack of light makes her not react in time, and it hits her abdomen but she catches it in time before it falls to the ground. He hears her curse under her breath.

“Did I wake you up?” she asks, rubbing the sore spot as she turns on the light, watching him close his eyes with a grimace, blinded by the sudden illumination. Logan groans, trying to adjust and lies back down on the couch, his gaze traveling to her but he doesn’t answer and sees her sigh, ending up putting the necessary things in the bag.

“Are you coming over tonight?” she asks, and out of the corner of her eye she can see a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

//////////

The bar doesn't always close with him inside, sometimes he waits outside after closing time, but on this occasion, she hasn't even seen him all afternoon and it's been more than a quarter of an hour since she should have closed but there is still the same group of men who had arrived hours ago and were still getting drunk, some sitting at the bar while she was busy cleaning the tables and she had already wiped down the pool table only for them to use it again a while later.

Disguising her frustration was not an easy task, and the temptation to talk to his boss about reducing her hours was starting to sound better and better, one would think that she would have managed to control herself with months she had spent on the project, under Francis' supervision, but the reality was that everything had gone quite downhill since her desertion, trauma and containment surfacing even years later.

Logan's addition to her life had been chaotic, comforting too, but there was still a part of her that was reluctant to the closeness she was taking with him, as he had even opened up to tell her things about his past in his dimension and she had barely detailed her life.

The sound of breaking glass makes her raise her head abruptly, squeezing the cloth in her hand until her knuckles turn white and she only has to breathe slowly as her only option, out of the corner of her eye she sees the broken bottle of cheap alcohol they had ordered, and she gets up to reluctantly go get the broom and mop, she still hears them talking in a mix of screams and laughter about the situation.

It’s hard not to look at the clock as she approaches them to clean up the mess, and her patience begins to wear thin when one of them snatches the broom away from her under the pretense of cleaning up the mess, she barely has time to reprimand him under her apologies when she feels a hand on her forearm and instinctively her body tenses, holding back her powers.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I wouldn’t want a pretty little thing like you to get hurt.” His grip is shaky from all the alcohol in his system, but that doesn’t stop him from tightening to the point of pain as she reluctantly struggles, wrinkling her nose at the smell that could almost make her drunk as well. The laughter intensifies and she begins to see red when she feels his fingers brushing through her hair with the hand that’s not on her, her power kicking in and enhancing her reflexes along with her senses.

“Get your fucking hands off of me. ” She hisses through her teeth, and she can feel the lingering tingle of her power but they keep laughing, and in the background her phone is ringing, the call waiting to be answered, when he roughly pulls her closer, and his hand travels to her jaw trying to kiss her.

It’s not like they could register it with all they’d had to drink, but the movement is fast and her hand connects with his cheekbone with such force that his head snaps to the side and he goes back a few steps, staggering and dazed. Angered by the idea of ​​involving her powers, her breathing is labored. “Everyone out.”

It’s all she says, and the laughter stops when the rest hear him curse, the mark of her hand red and prominent on his cheek as they drag him out ignoring his tirade and insults, their gazes travel to each other, suddenly in a hurry to leave.

She hears the jingle of the bell and strides to the door locking it, a frustrated cry leaving her mouth as she grabs a bottle from the shelf and the taste of alcohol makes her shudder, the burn in her throat familiar and she can feel the tickle turning into a sharp pain, her powers begging to be released on someone other than herself and when she looks at her hands there is a persistent tremor.

Humans had never been a threat to her, not when they were so weak to pain and so susceptible to pleasure. Even most mutants eventually gave in, except for those like Wade or Logan where the temporary solution was to keep them paralyzed and even then the disadvantage of their regenerative factor was too much.

She swallows, bringing the bottle to her lips again and feels everything spinning at the thought that she could have lost control,

She is more than halfway through the bottle when her gaze travels to the clock, more than half an hour since it should have been closed and it is not until almost another half hour later that she finally arrives at the apartment after having finished cleaning completely.

(...)

The darkness welcomes her and it is not difficult for her to notice the second heartbeat in the house and its characteristic aroma when her senses are still accelerated despite her attempts to calm down she still remains in a loop, the alcohol does not do much to numb her.

Part of her hopes to get to the bedroom without waking him, trying to avoid the situation this morning, but as she slowly closes the door sideways she realizes, thanks to the moonlight that enters through the curtains, that he is quite awake.

“Damn it, Logan. ” she grunts, feeling her heart skip a beat when she sees his gaze fixed on her. But he shifts his attention to the clock on the wall and then back to her.

He doesn’t say anything because he senses her annoyance in waves, enhanced senses or not, her expression is filled with frustration and he shares it, part of him feeling responsible for not having accompanied her in whatever happened. The smell of alcohol doesn’t go unnoticed either, which adds another layer of complexity because up until now he had never smelled it on her until after the day was over, which makes his suspicion grow.

“I called you.” It’s all he says, his tone cautious as he watches her undo her apron and leave it on the chair. Her guilty look lets him know that she hadn’t even looked at her phone and he runs a hand over his face, pushing back the hair that bothers him. “Doll.”

She sees him sit up out of the corner of her eye, causing her to shudder. The smell of alcohol can be mixed with the aroma of that group of idiots, but the handprint on her forearm is still present.

“I’m fine, I was just late cleaning up.” she answers, and her tone would be enough to stop the conversation, but Logan has never doubted his senses and the way he approaches makes her curse under her breath when his hand closes on her wrist, extending the arm that was marked.

There is a low growl that makes even her recoil, and for a second he says nothing, raising his darkened and questioning gaze.

“Leave it be-” she begins, looking at him with a mixture of exasperation and tiredness.

“Fuck it. What the hell happened?” He asks, with clenched teeth and she twists her wrist, managing to get away, making him frown.

“There was this group of drunks, but I'm fine-” His gaze flickers between her and the room, lost in his annoyance and this time it's her who grabs his chin. “Logan, I'm fine. I'm just angry that the situation could have gotten out of hand.”

As if it were possible his brow furrows even more and she can see the gears in his head turning, studying the workings of her powers. His fists clench and his pupils widen, getting rid of the green in his eyes.

“Did you use your powers?” he asks, and he sees her tense, her lips turning into a thin line.

“No. I just-” she cuts himself off, swallowing. “I could have killed him. If he'd managed to kiss me, I could have killed him.”

Somehow his gaze softens he can feel her anguish and although the fact of what had happened echoes in his mind, his hand travels to her face and rests on her cheek. “But you didn't. ”

He whispers and he can hear the beginnings of a broken laugh dying down, turning into a grimace, disgust and self-loathing written all over her face.

“I never learned to control them. Shit, even using them on myself was kind of accidental...” She speaks, almost tempted to pour herself more alcohol. Still standing she watches him lean against the side of the couch.

“Ever since they activated I could never really stop them. ” She gulps, avoiding eye contact. “Physical contact was enough to harm someone.”

The information makes Logan tilt his head, his eyes narrowing in interest and she gives him a weak smile when she can see him opening his mouth to speak.

“I thought you said you needed to share fluids.”

She answers with a light hum, getting up to grab a bottle of alcohol that she finishes emptying before throwing it in the trash. “It's true in a way, the state in which my powers were developed only allowed me to stimulate the nervous system of others, but it was not something I could control, any stimulus I could inflict was like being electrocuted at high intensity. It didn't matter if it was pain or not, the nervous system couldn't handle it and went into shock, or cardiac arrest.”

She explains, and takes another sip, licking her lips with a look of concern. “I can't even control the intensity now. But the only solution I found was to suppress them. So many times that it finally affected me, and I don’t know if it was adaptation or just something meant to happen, but something changed in my nervous system. My senses, my reflexes improved, and I could even decide whether to feel pain or not. But after that, my powers only worked through the fluids. It’s the only way I found a balance.”

His gaze seems to consider the situation, and there is a hint of caution in her gaze when she sees him approach. Even when he grabs her chin and runs his thumb along her lower lip. “Kiss me.”

She doesn’t remember ever hearing him speak so softly, despite the request, she takes a step back abruptly shaking her head and looking at him with wide eyes. But she finds the edge of the counter colliding with her back. “You have no idea what you’re saying.”

Her voice comes out sharper than it should and she crosses her arms over her chest defensively, her heart hammering hard at the thought.

“The risk of your powers is no different than the one you run by being around me.” He replies, causing her to roll her eyes.

“Why? Why do you have regenerative factor? What exactly are you trying to prove?

God, you don't control them in your sleep, I can never control them. The only solution I found is to switch between stimuli and even then...”

“And you don't have one. I could have killed you any of those nights.” He growls, reaching out again and grabbing her arm, his other hand traveling to the back of her neck. “Do you trust me?”

“I trust you. But I don't trust myself the same way you do. ”

Before she finishes, his lips are on hers, and her protests are muffled, her hands traveling to his chest as they both feel the same tickle, but her hands clench into fists and her breathing pauses as his grip loosens, but still holds.

“You’re not using them.” He murmurs as she pulls away.

“That doesn’t mean I can control them. It’s not a risk to you or Wade, but the rest...”

“No one will ever get that close.” he murmurs, trying to reassure her and she doesn’t need any more words to know that he’s going to become a permanent customer. “Let’s go to sleep.”

Her doubt turns to confusion as she looks up, and her brow furrows into caution.

“I thought you said it was dangerous.”

He hums, wrapping an arm around her waist before kissing her again, pulling her closer to him as his other hand trails up her abdomen. “I changed my mind.”

Their kisses continue all the way to the bedroom, and he doesn’t bother turning on the light as he watches her slump back onto the mattress and wastes no time in grabbing her thighs. With the reminder that it’s her uniform, he reluctantly lets her strip before cornering her figure back against the mattress.

“Logan.” She pants, his caresses enough to dampen her underwear as his hands roam her body. He's being so mindful.

And unlike all the other times, there’s no rush or need, he simply takes the time to admire her even though a smile tugs at his lips when he notices the scent between her legs. “Don’t tease me…”

She whispers, but her voice loses strength as his hand cups her intimacy and he hovers over her with his nose running down her neck as he leaves a trail of kisses all the way to her ear. “We’re just getting started.”

A soft huff escapes her lips, and she wraps her arms around his neck. “I want you.”

She protests and watches as his eyes darken, it takes an effort to contain himself and remind himself that he’s decided to make her feel good first, but the way she looks at him makes his pants tighten. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Part of him has grown accustomed to her teasing and her gripping, the way they both fight for control until she’s decided it’s enough and she lets himself go. But it’s not like he can complain about the way now all that comes out of her mouth are pleas and moans.

Her legs wrap around his waist as if at any moment he might slip away while her hands are quick to undo his shirt and send it flying across the room before grabbing his face and kissing him again.

As his touch intensifies it is she who takes control of the kiss and her moans are muffled when she feels him pull her underwear aside and hears the metallic sound of the buckle, a wave of adrenaline runs through her and she lightly bites his lower lip before pulling away.

Her gaze drops, and she barely has time to see his erection still in his underwear when his lips are on her throat, by inertia raising her head back she can feel his cock resting against her inner thigh before the tip brushes her entrance, soaking in her excitement first as he moves up and down opening her lips, the touch against her clitoris causing a shiver to run through her.

“Put your hands on your head.” He murmurs, and doesn’t hide his smile as she complies, almost imagining her response if the situation were different. Despite her arousal and the way she grips him, he takes care to push in slowly in the absence of foreplay, and a moan escapes her mouth as she pulls him roughly into her, the tease on the tip of his tongue that he doesn’t quite get to say out loud.

“Logan.” She moans, relief written all over her as he shoves herself all the way in. And she doesn’t need to say anything else for him to start moving, one of his hands closing on her wrists and his thrusts soon gaining depth despite the slowness. The moans in his ear send a shiver through him and his grip tightens as he tries to hold back, every fiber of his being resisting to fuck her until she’s a senseless mess beneath him.

She’s not far off when his mouth catches her nipple and he hears her gasp, his free hand catching her other breast before pinching it, feeling it harden between his fingers, his hand squeezing it as his tongue wraps around the other.

“Please.” She moans, and the desperation in her voice makes him close his eyes, he can feel her walls clench around him and his hand moves down to her clit, his thumb making circular motions as he feels her release and bend her legs on either side of his hip. “F-Fuck, please let me come.”

There’s no part of him that wouldn’t let her do it, but he decides to shut up and his thrusts become rougher when he feels her tremble around him and he can feel his own release approaching. “Do you want it that bad?”

“Yes! ” she can feel the familiar tug in her abdomen, building up but not enough and he would continue to tease her if it weren't for how his own member was beginning to throb, not wanting to cum without feeling her.

Tightening around him, two fingers press against her clit in upward strokes as he enters her until his balls are pressed against her hip. “Come on, kid, cum for me.”

Her body inevitably tenses and he presses his lips together, swallowing his moan as her walls trap him, and he’s quick to follow, filling her while still feeling the spasms of her orgasm.

Her breathing is still labored as she feels him brush her hair away from her face, pulling out of her. “Better now?”

He whispers, and with the way he looks at her, she’s not sure whether to make the worst sexual comment that will put Wade to shame, or kiss him until he sees if he might die of asphyxiation.

“It would be better if you stayed to sleep next to me.” Is what she actually says, watching him get off of her and place himself, indeed, next to her.

//////////

Taglist: @bontensbabygirl @twinky-wink

[bewiiitched]

Sex doll (chapter six)

⟩ Worst!Logan x mutant!reader

Author's note: I'm triying not to write smut in every chapter but is so hard when this man is so damn hot, ugh, old Logan has me diying. 😭

Also, let me know if you want me to tag you! <3

WARNINGS: +18, MDI, teasing, everyone ships them together, oral sex (m reciving), unprotected sex, creampie, P in V, Dom!worst!Logan, mentions of PTSD, nightmares, angst, dirty talk, age gap ( reader is mid 20's )

////////////

In the days leading up to the dinner party Wade was hosting, it had become a regular occurrence for Logan to stop by the bar where she worked, waiting for her to close and walking her back home, and while she hadn’t asked, she knew Wade must be pestering him about it.

So it’s on one of her days off, when she’d done the favor of picking up a couple of items for the blind AI from the grocery store, that she decides to go up and knock on the door. Hearing footsteps on the other side, the mercenary’s presence greets her, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Peanut is not at home,” He says, pretending to be a worried mother and you can see his index finger moving back and forth. “Tsk, tsk, there’s a curfew in this house, he is being irresponsible, young lady.”

She groans as she pushes him aside, forcing her way in and looks at him raising an eyebrow at Vanessa sitting on the couch. They both smile at each other and she leaves the paper bag on the counter as she walks over to hug her, she can hear him snort in the background. “Sweetheart, your favoritism is showing.”

“Oh no no, keep taking the grumpy handsome, there are already too many of us in here and he can get away from this idiot.” She hears AI shout from somewhere in the house and wonders how recently Wade had upset her to earn that response, she also hears the mercenary gasp, and sees him bring his hand to his chest.

“She loves me, the lack of cocaine has her annoyed.”

She rolls her eyes and sighs, touching Vanessa’s shoulder in a loving gesture before walking away and finding the older woman to give her the bag. But as she leaves the room, the mercenary figure stops her and grabs her arm with a dirty look.

“There are no secrets between girls, right? Am I going to have to organize a sleepover for you to give me details?” He asks, wiggling his nonexistent eyebrows and she brings a hand to the bridge of her nose.

“Has he not stabbed you recently?” she asks, seeing his smile widen and hearing the humming that follows.

“I think it’s more accurate that he has stabbed you with something else recently, but hey, I’m not judging.” He gasps when her foot connects directly with his stomach, and she pats his shoulder lightly before walking away, a fake smile tugging at her lips.

“See you at dinner.” She says goodbye and she can hear him mutter something like “bring him back” before closing the door behind her and going back to her apartment.

(...)

However, she ignores Wade’s words and Logan spends more time in her bed as the days pass, it has almost become a routine for the mutant to sleep in her bed even though they both spend the day apart with her working and the mutant spending time in the apartment above or at the bars. They end up in a silent agreement where she gives him a copy of the key to her apartment for those days when he feels like killing Wade, and at some point he tells her an anecdote about how he had ended up shutting him up and now the carpet in the apartment was reddish brown to the disgust of the old woman who had tried to clean it without success.

On the day of the dinner she had decided to change her day off, so she had spent the morning inside her apartment, and when the time comes she can’t help but be a little nervous.

She knocks, and it is Vanessa who greets her with a glass in her hand that she gives in, they both greet each other and her gaze scans the room, in the background she can see some of the X-men and it is an open secret that not only does she not have the best reputation, but her relationship with the group of mutants is far from politness. Her gaze catches Logan's, who is next to a brown-haired teenager and vaguely remembers the mercenary's words about how the original had fathered a daughter.

She makes no move to approach so as not to interrupt and her heart flutters as her gaze softens, somewhat touched by the sight of both of them. However, it does not last too long, since she feels a hand on her shoulder and only knows that it is him.

"See how cute? Wouldn't you like to be a stepmother?" He asks mockingly, and looks at him over her shoulder.

"Have you talked to her about having children yet?" she counters, removing her hand with an innocent smile and he hums, tilting his head.

"Nu-huh. I'd probably get addicted, you know, have 3 or 4 and with my luck they'd come out as blonde as Serena's hair,” He replies in a whisper, even though Vanessa is far from hearing them and a laugh escapes her. “Besides, what kind of hero would I be if I left a poor helpless old lady alone?”

“Mmm, I think it would be more of a relief.” she murmurs, and bows slightly at the elbow the mercenary gives him in the stomach with a gasp.

“Oops.” He says, hands rising in a placating gesture and when she looks up in irritation, she sees him surreptitiously pointing with his chin in the direction of where the mutant who has been sharing his nights for weeks is.

He is alone reclining on the same sofa, with a glass of alcohol in his hand. She reaches out and grabs his hand and Wade practically pushes her forward. “Wilson.”

She growls in a low whisper, and turns to pull away the hand that is resting on her back, a long pinch makes him jerk and he brings his injured arm to his chest.

“Are you going to play coy now? Use that dress for something.”

They both argue in whispers, and between struggles the glass of alcohol she was holding ends up falling on her black dress, soaking a large part of her abdomen.

“I'm going to kill you.” Her gaze travels to him with murderous intentions and Wade steps back almost looking guilty, approaching the table to grab some napkins as she rips them from his hand. She hears him mutter a response, but doesn't finish it when her foot hits his shin with the tip of her heel.

A snort escapes her lips and she dodges the mercenary's friends as she heads towards the bathroom, her nose wrinkling at the smell, and she throws the door open, hearing Vanessa's voice calling her in the background.

But she doesn't pay attention to her and closes it when she enters, turning on the faucet and lightly wetting the area, at least, trying to combat the smell and tries to dry it with a towel she takes out of the closet when she hear a knock on the door.

“Busy.”

She answers, with a hint of annoyance but the knocks insist and she finds herself throwing open the door, part of her was expecting Wade's girlfriend, but it's not her who is holding a navy blue dress.

“It's Vanessa's.” It's the only thing he says and his gaze is fixed on her face, still holding the towel and with her other hand on the door. His tall figure blocks the view of the room, and she sees him wrinkle his nose with a mocking smile pulling at the corners of his lips, but she looks at him with half-closed eyes as she snatches the dress that was hanging from his finger.

At this point she was beginning to believe that even Vanessa wanted to see them together.

“Hello to you too,” The mere thought made her turn around, leaving the new dress leaning against the sink. Not that she was going to waste the opportunity. “Well? Are you going to come in or...?”

She asks, reaching behind her back for the zipper that reached her back. Her gaze reaches him through the mirror, and she can't help but smile when she can see through the reflection how his gaze is on her exposed legs. He closes the door a little more abruptly than he should and their gazes meet, with a slight snort he realizes that he's been caught, but that doesn't stop him from grabbing her waist from behind, with his other hand traveling to the zipper and pulling it down in one movement.

It opens and the front part falls, although it sticks lightly to her wet abdomen, the only thing that stops the garment from falling to the floor is that it rests on her hips. Leaving her black bra exposed, his hand makes the move to go up and the contact makes her shudder.

Her breathing quickens, and she pulls his hand away to turn around, her hands traveling to either side of his face as she pulls him close and kisses him, despite spending most nights together, they don't have as much sex as Wade's perverted mind seems to think and she finds herself most nights waking the mutant from his nightmares or using her powers to calm him down. She herself used to be plagued by nightmares, so alcohol was her ally against them but lately their nights together had become more spaced out too much to her disappointment.

Her hand rests on the sink and her skin prickles as it comes into contact with the cold surface, his kisses travel to her neck and she throws her head back, feeling his other hand grip her breast. A wave of arousal runs through her and she can feel the wetness in her underwear, which doesn't go unnoticed by the mutant, she sees him raise his head, but she stops herself when she sees his attention is elsewhere, and he looks over his shoulder at the door, seconds before a knock interrupts.

Logan curses under his breath as he lets go, and her gaze travels to his pants, noticing the erection that is squeezing them. But she quickly moves away, and he watches her struggle to put on the new dress that resists sticking to her damp skin, so he puts his hands on either side of the garment and pulls it up to her breasts.

The knocks insist, and when he opens the door he sees Peter's gaze travel between them with a mixture of surprise and embarrassment. From a distance Logan recognizes the TVA woman who almost returned him to his dimension, and neither of them say anything when they pass by, but he sees out of the corner of his eye how she smiles apologetically before moving away from the hallway.

The wet dress is still in her hand, and as the hours pass he notices how Logan loses some of his interest in staying after Laura leaves the dinner with Yukio. He can see Wade and Vanessa talking in a corner while the rest seem to be starting conversations on their own and it is he who reaches for her hand to get her attention.

“Shall we go?” She asks beforehand, and hears the mutant sigh. They both leave without saying goodbye, after all tomorrow she would have to go back up to return the dress to the brunette, and the arrival at her apartment is silent until they both enter.

She is faster because she has been waiting for the moment since she saw the bulge in his pants and she doesn’t waste any time in pushing him towards the couch and getting on top of him.

“I almost felt bad, mine can be hidden at least.” She murmurs, and hears him grunt, seeing him roll his eyes while wrinkling his nose. Well, not completely hidden.

She sees him tense in anticipation as she gets off his lap and kneels in front of him, it’s instinctive but his hand has already wrapped itself in her hair as she works to get rid of the belt and everything in between his naked erection. She hears him swallow as her tongue brushes the tip and her hand wraps around the base, while her tongue goes up and down his cock, teasing him but he doesn't complain and instead his head is resting on the couch, looking at her with half-closed eyes.

She sort of takes pity on him, and takes his cock into her mouth, the heat and wetness are welcomed as she feels his grip on her hair tighten, and she sucks lightly. It doesn't take long for her to feel the wetness dampening her panties again and rubbing her thighs in an involuntary gesture, it doesn't help to remember how his fingers felt inside her last time but it doesn't stop her.

She keeps a slow pace, mainly focusing on the tip as she pulls him out of her mouth with small kisses and licks, sometimes running her tongue around it until she puts it back in. She can tell it's not enough, because when she looks up she sees him clenching his jaw.

The sight would make her smile if her mouth weren't occupied and soon the situation turns into a kind of competition as her whole intention is to listen to him beyond the sound of his labored breathing.

Her fingers squeeze his balls and she slides his cock in until the tip touches the back of her throat, her movements becoming messier and it feels almost like a victory when she hears him make a sound.

“Fuck.” He moans, trying to keep his attention on her gaze, the glint in her eyes making something twist at the longing in them, his head spinning at the thought of her asking for his approval, and his hand travels to her cheek, thumb brushing against her cheekbone when he sees her bend down again, hollowing her cheeks with tears in the corners of her eyes.

His breath hitches as she sucks and the hand holding her hair moves away to dig his fingers into the couch, his throbbing cock just an incentive for her, and they both know he's close, with her attention focusing on his tip, she closes her lips over it, her tongue pressing in as her hand cupped his base up and down and interspersing with her mouth, trying to bring him over the edge.

The smell of her arousal didn't help him hold back, wanting to enjoy her touch more and watching her spit on her hand, fingers closing over his cock and her lips wrapping around the tip until she goes down again, he hears her hum as she tastes the precum and her lips are relentless as she goes back up. He opens his mouth to warn her, but her eyes find his and her lust-laden gaze makes him growl, a lascivious smile before his tip brushes her throat and he spills out, his hips pushing lightly against her face as he feels her swallow.

He straightens up slightly, still feeling her tongue flick before she pulls away and her tongue runs over her cum and saliva stained lips. Sitting up, she sits on his lap with her legs on either side of his, and the sudden weight makes his eyes open, his brown orbs shining with pure desire.

It’s a few minutes before he recovers and his breathing becomes more stable, where she’s leaning against his chest leaving a trail of lazy kisses and her hand wrapped around his member, feeling it harden without a warning sound. His hands travel up her dress and pull it up to her abdomen, his mouth searching for her ear as his other hand rests on her lower back, pulling her closer to him.

“It’s not easy when your scent has been present all damn dinner,” he growls, and although Logan is always ready for foreplay, the way she grinds her hips against him lets him know that his fingers are not what she wants.

“Can you blame me?” she gasps, and she can feel him pull her hand away to grab his own erection, the other hooking under her leg to lift her hips, and his tip lines up against her entrance, rubbing against her arousal. “Do you think I didn’t notice the way you looked at me in the bathroom?”

She moans, watching him roll his eyes, but he doesn’t deny it and begins to thrust in, her teeth catching his bottom lip at the stretch and the feeling of fullness has her digging her fingers into his shoulders. “F-Fuck, you’re so big. What were you thinking earlier, mm? Bending me over the sink and lifting up my dress?”

The look in his eyes tells her she’s not far off the mark but the snap of his hips steals her speech as he begins to thrust into her and she hovers over him, moaning against his ear as he fills her, pushing in against her walls that threaten to trap him.

His hands go to her hips, holding her in place but she’s relentless in her attempts to tease him and he somehow finds it amusing how her drunk self is quieter than when she’s sober.

“Why? Is that what you were thinking while you had my cock in your mouth?” he asks, his voice husky, and the way her walls clench makes his rhythm become more disordered. The rawness of his words makes a wave of arousal run through her, and her nails dig into his shoulders.

“So fucking good.” She moans, and her mouth finds his because she'll have time to tease him later. His face buries itself in her neck when they part and she feels the tingle of her power on her fingers but she holds it back. “I'm close.”

It's all she says as she moves her hips to his rhythm, her walls contracting with the impending orgasm and his teeth nibbling at her neck as his rhythm becomes rougher, his hands returning to her hips and pulling her back a little, finding another angle that makes her tremble on him, her legs jumping up and down a little as they begin to ache.

“Cum for me.” His tone keeps her spinning, and the demand makes something in her break, the tug in her abdomen drawing out a long moan as she lets herself fall onto his chest and he leans back, still pounding into her core seeking his own release. “Fuck, that little pussy of yours feels so damn good.”

Curses, a thin layer of sweat covering him as his erection throbs and becomes erratic, he slides his fingers up her thighs as he empties himself inside her, seemingly never ending, and she gasps at the warm feeling inside her, spasms still shaking her slightly.

His grip on her is tight, and her head rests against his chest. “You know, you could stay as long as you want…”

She murmurs, and Logan can tell the effects of the orgasm are affecting by her sleepy tone. So he takes it as a sign to sit up and pulls out of her, pulling up his pants, hearing her disappointed moan as he picks her up, and lets her wrap her legs around his hips as she wraps her arms around his neck.

“I don’t want to bother you.” He answers, and his tone has returned to its seriousness so despite her tiredness, she looks up at him, the wariness in his gaze catching her by surprise, frowning when she sees him look away, his sudden change having her confused and worried in equal parts.

She rolls off of him abruptly, causing him to lean forward as he thinks she’s going to fall, but her feet land on the floor with a thud, and she stops him from going into the bedroom with a hand on his chest.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” there’s a pleading tone, and his gaze briefly rests on her before he sighs, the darkness of the hallway consuming them if it weren’t for the light in the living room. “Did I do something wrong?”

She insists, and she hears him growl, his jaw clenched with his lips drawn into a thin line. Part of him fears how quickly he’s grown accustomed to her company, how she clings to him at night and her warm body is the reminder of where he is when he wakes up in the middle of the night, with her and not in his nightmares.

“Is not safe-” he starts, but her gaze cuts him off, and he only knows that something has clicked in her head when she closes the distance and grabs his chin, her comforting gaze is not what he expected, not what he deserved.

She feels stupid for not realizing it sooner but part of her had brushed it off when they had shared the bed again days after Logan left after a nightmare that had made him leave in the middle of the night, when trying to wake him up like the other times had suddenly pulled him out of one that seemed especially torturous, but her mind was too preoccupied with watching him writhe and growl to notice that his claws were out, part of the sheets torn and when her hand rests on his cheek, his eyes snap open as he sits up, grabbing her forearm and bringing his other hand to her neck, claws brushing her skin.

She could barely open her mouth to speak when he jerked away as he realized the situation, her voice calling out to him as she got out of bed only to hear the apartment door slam shut.

The memory makes her shudder, but so does him trying to push her away, her thumb brushing his cheek in an almost intimate gesture.

“It was a one-time thing, Logan. Come to bed.” She murmurs, and she can see the guilt floating in his brown orbs, the reluctance of not wanting to hurt her prevents him from giving in, and he takes a step back. “Please, nothing will happen.”

And the confidence with which she says it has him on a tightrope, remembering the smell of her fear when his edge threatened her throat.

“You don't know.” he growls, sounding hurt with himself, and his frustration only grows at the thought of what could have happened if he had gone ahead.

“I’ll find another way to wake you up, I won’t touch you again. Remember? The other times I didn’t and you didn’t react that way,” she insists, and he knows her intentions are good but hearing her blame herself makes something in him twist, his gaze fixating on her when he sees her grab his wrist. “Sleep on the couch then, please.”

He swallows, sighing in resignation which she interprets as a victory and his gaze softens when he sees how her eyes light up, a slight nod in confirmation and he sees her move to go get something in the room.

/////////

Taglist: @bontensbabygirl @twinky-wink

[bewiiitched]

Sexdoll (chapter 5)

Author's note: Let me know if you want me to tag you, enjoy! <3

WARNINGS: None.

› Wade being Wade, Wade being cupid, misunderstandings, sexual tension, alcoholism, age gap (reader is mid 20's)

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It's not fully dawn yet when she wakes up, her legs moving lazily in bed, noticing the older man's figure beside her and how his arm is around her waist. She no longer feels the effects of the alcohol, so her body has gone cold and she can notice traces of pain between her legs, but she doesn't bother to sit up as she settles back down, moving closer to his chest.

She hears the beginning of a thick, hoarse laugh. Followed by her start since she didn't expect the bastard to be awake all this time and his arm clings on, pulling her even closer. She can distinguish the faint scent of sweat emanating from him, with his face resting on her chest. — You know, there will be no stopping Wade when he finds out about this.

She murmurs, and feels his huff of annoyance at the idea, the arm around her makes circular movements against her hip and she can hear his relaxed heartbeat.

Neither of them brings up what happened the night before and she can feel his gaze on her as she moves away, pushing back the sheets she had ended up wrapped around to sit on the edge and stretch lazily. He reaches for one of the drawers in the nightstand and rummages around, pulling out a box of cigarettes which she offers him.

“Where are you going?”

His voice is raspy, looking at her questioningly as he brings the cigarette to his lips and lights it with the lighter on the nightstand on his side of the bed.

“I have to go to work.”

She answers listlessly after turning on the light, she is still naked and walks over to the closet to grab some clean clothes and a towel, turning to look at the mutant who runs his eyes over her body. She can still feel the inside of her thighs sticky, and from his gaze she deduces that he can smell her.

In a way she is surprised that he doesn't know where she works, given that she didn't want to get too far from her building for safety, she found work as a waitress in a bar on the same street. The reason she kept so much alcohol in her house, since sometimes she preferred to take bottles as payment for the extra hours she worked. It's not that she had few tips, since many days she worked full time and barely spent time at home, but it helped her to distract herself when she finally arrived after dawn.

So due to her schedule it had been difficult to coincide with the mutant in the first weeks since he had moved to share a flat with Wade, but fate had other plans and there he was, lying in her bed.

But when she comes out of the bathroom, she sees the empty space, his half-finished cigarette in the ashtray and her senses sharpen trying to find his presence, but the house is empty except for her own.

(...)

To her surprise, the days pass quite quietly and neither of them runs into each other, her nights become monotonous as always thanks to working all day and in retrospect, she thinks it can be perceived as if she was avoiding him, it was a half-truth.

But Logan notices how her scent fades more and more in her apartment, and it is late at night when the bell rings that indicates the entrance of a client in the bar.

“Sorry, we are closing.”

She answers lightly, her back is to the door cleaning the glasses with a cloth, but when seconds pass and she doesn't hear the door close she has no choice but to turn around with a false polite smile until she sees him. She doesn't really wonder why he has come, because the easiest thing was to assume that Wilson would have opened his big mouth.

“Of course. Are you coming to help me clean, honey”

She can see the beginning of a smile at the sarcastic nickname, her mocking tone only intensifies when he sees him take a seat in front of the bar, a light touch to the wood and she places a glass that he fills with Whiskey.

She watches him with a cryptic look as she resumes the cleaning she had left half done, although there was no part of her that regretted that night, it was difficult to hide her concern about how things would turn out between them.

“He plans to have another meeting at the end of the month.”

His tone is dry, and out of the corner of her eye she sees him help himself with the bottle she had left on the bar. She can't help but snort, of course the stubborn little bastard would continue to insist. She ends up approaching the door and turning the sign so that it says "closed" facing the street.

She hums in response, letting the silence return to them until she finally calms down from her worries.

“Does he know?”

She asks, and she can hear the growl that resonates in his throat, almost offended, almost mocking.

“No.”

It is her turn to keep the smile but she nods slightly. Her posture relaxes and Logan can see it, her brow furrowing, unconsciously gripping the glass too tightly and the crack startles her, looking up to see the glass scattered across the floor and bar.

“Come to give me more work?”

She hears him swear and her tone may seem annoyed, but that emotion is not reflected in her eyes, looking at him, interrogatory. It's hard not to notice how he avoids her gaze, and the silence is interrupted again by the abrupt creaking of the chair as he stands up, grabbing his brown jacket.

It's instinctive, most of the time her power is linked to her emotions, but at that moment she feels a shock run through her, it's just feel right, her reflexes at full capacity as she grabs his arm roughly and stops him from leaving when he had barely passed by her side. The movement tenses and surprises him in equal parts, so in less than a second he is also grabbing her arm.

“What's going on?”

She asks, and her gaze is relentless in seeking an answer from the mutant, the scrutiny obvious as she watches his expression. He clicks his tongue, a growl escaping his throat and she feels the movement of his arm, a silent warning but it is stubborn, her fingers digging into the sleeve of his jacket.

“I just came to tell you about Wade’s dinner, bub.”

Her eyes narrow even more. The smell of alcohol on his breath hits her, and in a way, it’s funny when their senses are enhanced and are on par, focused on each other, but his heartbeat reveals nothing to her and something inside her twists, a thought that leads her to remember how everything around her had been built on half-truths, when her loyalty was still being tested and the threat of Ajax hung over her head like a sentence.

The polygraph days, the interrogations, the reports after the missions, Francis himself, Cornelius, Killebrew...

There's still annoyance written in her eyes when she lets it out, the need to know clawing at her from within, it had been more than a week since they last saw each other but she couldn't get it out of her head. It was ironic how he had been reticent, how he had said he wouldn't take advantage of her drunken state and yet it was she who longed for something more, the struggle to admit that she needed him in so many other ways.

But there had been no way to accept that it had been something casual, even though she had repeated it to herself hundreds of times in the last few days. So she would just have to act as always, even though Logan hadn't gotten to know her yet.

— Fine then.

It's barely a whisper and at first she seems satisfied, but she knows he can tell she is not buying it. It was only a matter of time before Wade dragged her into another of his attempts to bring them closer if he had no idea what had happened one floor below her apartment, if he truly believed that Wolverine had left minutes after he fled to his date with Vanessa, that he would be absent when sleeping in her bed.

She turns around with the intention of picking up the glass so she grabs the broom and dustpan, there are no footsteps or the jingling of the bell but she continues with her business. Dispersed in her thoughts she doesn't pay attention to him until she snaps back to reality when she hears his footsteps, but they don't go. They come back, and with the same speed that she had grabbed him minutes before, he has his hand on her shoulder and she staggers a few steps back until her back is against one of the tables. The broom falls, and she glances sideways before looking at him, it runs over his face and for a moment it stops on his lips, without making any attempt to move she raises an eyebrow, opening her mouth to speak but his serious tone interrupts her, and cuts off any sarcastic comment she was going to make.

“I'm not him.”

Swallowing, she thinks about what to say. Or rather, she tries to understand the line of thought that has led Logan to believe that he was a replacement, but reality hits her when a possibility makes its way into her mind and she looks at him in dismay. Did he think she had used him?

“I know.”

She clarifies quickly, somewhat shaken by the implication and her hand travels to the arm that kept her cornered, resting next to her shoulder.

“I was drunk, not blind, and even so, I knew what I was getting into, Logan. None of me was trying to pretend It was him. I told you. I wanted you. You, not him.”

Her tone matches his seriousness and there's a sharp edge to her attempt to clarify the situation, finding himself gulping, her breathing getting a little heavier when she finishes and her heart pumping in her chest, a glance back at the windows making her sigh.

“I should go on.”

Her voice has lost strength and the discomfort presses down on her with the same force as the presence looming over her, but Logan doesn't move away, though he does sit up while looking at her doubtfully.

“Do you always lock up by yourself?”

He asks, and as if to prove a point he glances over his shoulder at the street, pitch black except for a couple of streetlights on, the neighborhood didn't have the best security either but it was nothing she could handle, and she shrugs.

“I think they freaked out a little when I broke someone's nose against the bar. But beyond that, comments here and there.”

The mental image causes the mutant to raise his hands in a placating gesture, and he steps away a few steps, a hint of mockery in his gaze as he clears his throat. “Is that my cue to leave?”

She hums in response before straightening up and winking at him. “There’s still one more bottle to empty, bub.”

She jokes and bends down to grab the broomstick, glancing over her shoulder at him and catching his eyes on her exposed legs before he looks away. A small smile tugs at the corner of her lips knowing he can’t see her.

And only the sound of glass being thrown into the trash can be heard. He has remained still, leaning on the table, and out of the corner of his eye he looks at the time on the clock hanging near the bar, but to his surprise, she grabs the bottle of alcohol and the black bag she had left on a chair.

Logan sees her hang it over her shoulder, holding the bottle with the other hand as she gestures towards the door, and he can't help but raise an eyebrow. — Are you taking it?

— It's my extra pay.

She scoffs, and the mutant rolls his eyes as he leaves. The door closes behind them and she locks it, then puts them in her bag. The silence that forms between them on the way home is pleasant, but ends up being interrupted when a familiar voice is heard upon reaching the entrance.

— I was starting to worry about how long it took you to bring her back. Although I can't blame you- woah, is that Vanessa's skirt? Greedy bitch, who are you trying to seduce?

A gasp escapes Wade's lips, as she lets out a light laugh and crosses her arms, looking up at the window where the mercenary was peeking out.

“Isn't it a little creepy that you recognize every piece of clothing your girlfriend owns”

But the mutant doesn't flinch and instead smiles widely as he winks at his roommate.

“Mmm, that one in particular has history. You know? It could almost stand on its own-”

“Nu-huh, good night, Wade!”

She shouts, drowning out the mercenary's voice and eliciting a laugh from Logan at her side, as she practically lunged into the building.

“God, I want to take it off”

She moans in disgust, letting the mutant close the door and hearing her curse underneath, Logan unconsciously clears his throat, causing her to turn to look at him halfway up the stairs with a blank expression and sees him raise an eyebrow.

And then it dawns on her.

Oh.

“I didn't mean it like that.”

She mutters resignedly and climbs the stairs in giant steps while she hears him keep up with her, when they reach the door to her apartment, she steps aside searching for her keys and can hear Logan's snort as he snatches the bottle from her so she can search better.

She smiles slightly embarrassed and looks at the bottle out of the corner of her eye. — Don't steal it from me...

She grumbles and shouts a small hallelujah when she finally finds them, opening the door, she leaves it wide open as she enters, but she hears him stop in the frame and she rolls her eyes as she throws her bag on the couch.

“I thought you didn't want Wade to find out.”

He speaks, and when he comes in it's only to leave the bottle on the counter but he sees her frown and huffs taking off her apron, leaving only the black shirt and the skirt that covered her thighs.

— Oh, I assure you that he has his ear glued to the floor trying to listen.

He huffs, drinking from the bottle. — I bet he does.

////////

Taglist: @twinky-wink @bontensbabygirl

[bewiiitched]

Sexdoll (chapter four)

WARNINGS: +18, MDI, Dom!Worst!Logan, cocky!Worst Logan, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, angst, ass play, anal sex, powers as drugs, dub-con (just in case, there is alcohol involved) drunk!reader, teasing, rough sex, some aftercare, overstimulation, age gap (reader is mid 20's)

////////////

There is a heavy silence when she finishes recounting what happened and squirms in her chair, the loop of memories in her mind not ceasing and she tenses when she looks up to see him although he is not looking at her but at the glass in front of him.

The new Logan is a slightly older version of the original but her chest still twists at the sight of his features. Those she had tortured to exhaustion, and for a moment, she could remember the metallic taste of his blood, and yet, despite not having detailed everything, the mutant's expression made it clear to her that he had an idea of ​​what happened.

There are no comforting words and instead he refills both of their glasses while leaving space for her to calm down. He seems not to pay attention to her but in reality he can't help but focus his hearing on her insistent heartbeat and the small tremors he notices when she brings the glass to her lips.

— Didn't you see each other again?

He asks, his voice hoarse but slow as if he were hesitating to even speak and he sees her shake her head, there is bitterness in her gaze as she puts the glass on the counter. — No. I stayed hidden for months until Wade finally found me.

There is a slight grunt of recognition and she notes that he is cautious about asking, so she smiles weakly and steps back a little. — When looking for information about Francis he found out that I had deserted. So he went to find me in case I knew anything about him.

If she had ever been lucky in life, it was that Wilson had not killed her. — Don't tell him anything, he doesn't know.

Out of the corner of his eye he can see her nod and in the mutant's mind, it fit why the mercenary had referred to the situation so lightly, oblivious to the true damage that had occurred between them.

As she lets off steam, two or three glasses become four bottles. Part of her is embarrassed by the repertoire of alcohol she keeps at home, for those stubborn nights when she wants a binge and needs it to be consistent before her healing factor wears off. On the other hand, the night becomes much more enjoyable when they put aside the darker parts of their lives, and she even learns a couple of differences between the two realities.

As she gets up from her chair to refill the bottle, the intoxication stalks her, walking a few steps, the kitchen spins around her causing her to stagger to the side. There is a screech behind her when he moves the chair, and before she can turn to look at the mutant, she feels his iron grip on her forearm preventing a fall.

— I think that's enough, dollface.

His voice echoes in her ear and her mind is still thick but hearing the nickname sends a tingle down her spine, suddenly she seems to regain awareness of the closeness they have gained. She can practically feel the heat coming off the older man’s body, and her heart flutters loudly.

She can smell the masculine cologne mixed with the strong scent of alcohol on his breath and she swallows, ridding herself of any obscene thoughts that may arise in her deteriorating mind. Her hand travels to the older man’s with a light touch to indicate that everything is okay, but she can feel the doubt in the way his fingers press.

— I’m fine, Logan.

She slurs, never having managed to stay drunk for more than a few hours but she had no doubt that she would regret the little show later. Turning slightly, she glances at him sideways, his eyes darkened, focused on something she can’t see and her curiosity piques her, but she doesn’t ask.

When his grip is finally removed, she watches him walk away, a silent farewell as he grabs the half-finished glass from the counter and brings it to his lips, drinking every last drop. She keeps looking at him, her lower lip between her teeth and the longing in her body.

The mutant's gaze follows her, watching her as she watches him and puts the glass back in its place. — Stop torturing yourself.

She didn't think his voice could be any hoarser, but his tone is restrained despite the hint of annoyance she notices. However, the abruptness catches her off guard, and the mutant himself grimaces at it, she's not blind, she knows that blaming this Logan for how is like to feel guilty is stupid, as Wade had said he was a darker and more broken version than the original, but it was a version that hadn't crossed paths with her, with her powers.

— He left you alive for a reason.

His tone is softer but that doesn't stop her from boiling over when she remembers it. — Yes, and I spit in his face. I didn't play fair, that's what my power is all about.

She answers hurt, digging her nails into the palms of her hands, the pain is familiar and seems to clear her drunken mind a little, but Logan growls, coming closer abruptly when his senses recognize the smell of blood and in a second, her back is against the wall, and his hands are on top of hers to prevent her from hurting herself.

— Don't.

There is a certain daze in her gaze for the speed with which Logan had cornered her and the alcohol in her system but that doesn't quench the annoyance he has unleashed, but he covers her mouth momentarily, interrupting whatever she was going to say.

— What did you do after that happened?

— I fled into the woods...— she whispers when he releases her mouth, in an almost questioning tone in confusion because she doesn't seem to understand where the conversation is going,

however, there is insistence in the mutant's gaze.

— No. He let you go.

He says it with such seriousness that for a moment she doubts her own memories, of how his weight felt on her and the effort it took to leave him in that state. His touch leaves her and one of his hands travels to her chin, lifting her face.

— You said it yourself, he wasn't unconscious.

Despite his grip, her gaze drops to his chest, considering his words while a shiver runs down her spine. She remembered it vividly, her bruised feet as she fled barefoot through the forest, expecting to look over her shoulder and see his figure coming towards her, looking to drag her into the cabin, but it didn't happen. Despite running and running until she reached the road, there were no claws, no growls, no blood.

— How the hell are you so sure?

She counters, with obvious hesitation, it didn't change everything she had done. Her heartbeat echoes in her ears and it's not hard to feel nauseous so she abruptly pushes him away, placing her palms on his chest. — You don't know what I've done.

She hisses, frustrated, and she can feel the tears building up in her eyes, blurring her vision even more, but he's stubborn, and she wonders if it's a quality all the variants share. He grabs her again, shaking her figure slightly, and his gaze burns into her for different reasons. The concern in his dark eyes makes her stomach drop.

— I've healed worse things, kid. If he really wanted to, he would have chased you.

There is a silence where only her labored breathing can be heard, and her lips become a thin line considering his words. Her eyes remain fixed on his chest because she cannot face him in this state and ends up regretting drinking.

The outburst causes her to remember the events of the car, and the hair on her body stands on end as she remembers his words, tears overflowing down her cheeks.

« You reek of regret. »

In retrospect the mutant watches her break down in silence, watching her come back and move away from reality just as quickly and without thinking his hands go to her face wiping away her tears, causing them both to look at each other for a moment.

It is an impulse, and she can blame the alcohol or her ruthless emotions but still her hands go to his face bringing him closer and she puts her lips on his. The tips of her fingers tickle from the growth of his beard that itches against her skin, and she feels him moan in surprise. His hands settling on her wrists, gently pushing them away from her face.

— No…— He starts, with a growl, and jerks back as her heart skips a beat, but he stops her from moving away by tightening his grip on her arms. — You’re drunk. I’m not going to…

He trails off, a rejection in his voice, one that seems more attuned to his own desire than her advances. And now it’s her who watches him writhe in his loop of martyrdom and self-blame.

— Don’t. It’s me who is in the wrong for wanting you.

There’s a subtle shift in the mutant’s posture, and his fingers press into her grip. He can smell it, see it in the way she looks at him, but nothing compares to hearing her admit it. Logan can feel the lurking power in his body, a sensation he can’t quite describe as a subtle chill, a sudden itch, or a lingering burn, but he knows it’s there. Present for the her whim and desires.

His breathing becomes heavy, and his gaze descends to her lips, wondering what differences this version of her hides with her own version of his world, which he had never known. His grip is strong and restrained, ignoring the fact that he should not desire her.

— Are you sure?

He asks in a raspy voice, leaving no room for jokes, and although he is usually quite serious and grumpy, the demand behind the question creates a bubble of emotion in her chest.

— Yes.

She gasps, since he kisses her fiercely after barely saying it, his tongue takes control and she does not complain as his hand goes to her neck, bringing her closer to his chest. Her own hands surround the mutant's neck, and she gives a small jump to propel herself, wrapping her legs around the older man's waist. It is then that she feels his erection against her core, and her fingers tickle to retain her power.

His large hands grip her thighs, making lazy circles as his mouth leaves her and attacks her neck mercifully, the growth of his beard irritating her skin as he kisses, bites and sucks his way down to her cleavage. She throws her head back with her bottom lip between her teeth, and feels his hands rise to suddenly stop, his breath caught in his chest as every muscle in his body tenses and the pads of his right hand brush the relief of one of her scars.

Three small vertical scars where his claws would have stabbed her, it's hard not to identify them, though no one had survived them enough to leave a mark, or those who had didn't have one. He licks her lips at the sudden dryness in his throat, and opens his mouth, fingers clenching her legs unconsciously. — How...?

He asks, leaving it hanging, the fact that they were so thin let him understand that they had been deeply buried and from her story he had deduced that although she had a healing factor, it was not so accelerated.

— It's not the only one I have. — She speaks with a grimace, and sees the mutant's eyes darken, with his grip shaking on her legs. — It's a side effect of my power, I can die from so many ways, but blood loss won't be one of them. Just like I can control my own nerves, in times of danger my body creates and regenerates fluids like crazy.

There's a slight sigh, no doubt remembering the run she'd made through the woods and the searing pain it had caused her for weeks after escaping. — However, my healing is only superior in stopping bleeding and regenerating nerves. Bone or muscle damage is shit to heal.

The explanation to calm the mutant, and her grip on him tightens, seeking to get him away from his new worries she takes him by the chin to kiss him, unconsciously moving her hip forward. She feels him growl between the kiss, and when they separate, her hand travels to his erection, giving a slight jump as a dirty smile spreads across her face. — Does the size change in all versions?

She murmurs, her voice thick as she cups the bulge in his pants and her eyes shine as they glisten in a mix of mockery and lust as she teases him, which seems to take effect, given that even though he doesn't respond, his hand travels roughly to her hair and tugs on it, pulling her head back and his mouth resumes the previous movements, leaving a trail of kisses down her neck. And out of the corner of her eye she sees his marked biceps as he keeps the iron grip on her hair, it doesn't hurt, but it keeps her in place.

— You're playing with fire.

It's so brief that for a moment Logan stops stunned, and she can see his gears turning in understanding what the hell just happened, fast and relentless the wave of pleasure shakes him like an electric shock, his muscles relax, and his hair stands on end, causing him to shudder when the pressure in his pants eases slightly.

— For a moment I worried about seeing you struggling down there.

At that moment, he seems to understand many things about her story, but everything has been left in the background as he feels himself burning with desire even though his temperature is normal. When her hands go to his chest, her touch burns on his skin, and he finds himself tearing her shirt in response, leaning over her as his hips rock against hers.

Of course, the friction is not enough, and her own hands travel to her pants to get rid of them before they suffer the same fate as her tattered shirt, but hearing the sound of his claws makes her stop halfway, with her gaze fixed on them as she sees his edge go towards her bra, tearing it from the front and feeling his lips suck on her nipple moistened by his saliva.

The mutant practically drags her against the counter, and she shudders when her back hits the coldness of the granite, and she barely has time to climb on top before he attacks her.

She moans, arching her back as she resumes undoing her pants, and the mutant wastes no time in sliding one hand down her hip, the other tugging at her pants until they are down to her ankles. His hand cups her core, feeling the wetness that seeps through her underwear and soaks the insides of her thighs.

— Fuck. Do you feel in danger or something?

It’s an obvious tease, but the low tone makes it sound more like a purr, and a shiver runs through her, her foot kicking playfully against his thigh with an embarrassed huff.

His smirk is cocky, and there’s no warning to prepare her for the three fingers that thrust in roughly after pushing her panties aside. The stretch makes her gasp, and she lifts her hips sharply, but she barely has time to adjust to the slight burn as he curls them and begins to move them.

— L-Logan.

She moans, her eyes clouded with pleasure so she can barely make out the figure on top of her, however, that doesn't stop her from taking some revenge on that and her hand wraps around his wrist, the sensation is welcomed, and the pleasure that rocks him has him leaning over her, burying his face against her neck and breathing in her scent.

Her hand leaves him and travels to the back of his head, commiserating her fingers in his hair and holding him close. She can feel the familiar tug at her lower abdomen, her walls tightening and contracting as his thumb moves against her clit and she's so close to orgasm that she doesn't give him a chance to tease her any further.

Her own hand moves down and positions itself over his, she can hear his small laugh against her ear, Logan curling them even more, as his rhythm becomes rougher and his mouth old to her earlobe, biting it.

The orgasm shakes her. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches her squirm, a moan escaping her lips as he sees her fingers curl and his arrogance return to him like the sun rises every morning.

— You okay, dollface?

— Fuck you.

She gasps at his attempts to mock her. Her breathing is labored as she struggles to recover, but the mutant isn't so merciful and suddenly she finds herself face down against the counter, her feet barely touching the floor with his hand holding against her back, and soon his entire arm is braced, holding her in place. The one he has free and covered in her fluids descends again between her thighs, and to her surprise, a finger lightly brushes the entrance to her anus.

— What...?

She gasps and her voice breaks, a wave of adrenaline rushes through her at the thought, and the mutant seems to take it as an incentive, hovering over her without stopping his circular movements, and his mouth is soon at the level of her ear, his lips brushing her skin.

— Have you ever been fucked from behind?

From the way she reacts, he assumes not, but his senses are more focused on how her heartbeat quickens at his question, his nose picking up on her growing arousal and he watches her shake her head slightly.

He hides his smile to himself, and he doesn't let go of his hand to grip the flesh of her hips. His erection strains against his clothes at the thought, and a growl resonates against his throat, her nervousness palpable, but he relaxes it by bringing his other hand to her clit while his finger continues to play around her entrance until he slowly inserts it.

It stings, though it's mild and feels more like a lingering discomfort, but the movements against her clit make it so she can't focus too much and she finds himself pushing her hips back, so his finger is inserted up to the knuckle while her clit suffers the overstimulation with his other hand until he stops.

He feels her writhe beneath him and he keeps it slow, stretching her entrance carefully until he can insert a second finger. He sees her nails dig into the counter and her cheek remains braced against the surface, her eyes closed while her hips are raised for him.

— Do you like it, dollface?

— Y-Yes.

Watching her as she is soaking wet, practically drips down the fingers inside her. He uses her lubrication to his advantage with his other hand traveling down to his pants releasing his erection, and coating his member with her fluids. He inserts his fingers again and this time simulates scissors, creating a slow but sure rhythm as his hand moves up and down to his cock.

— You should see yourself. — he murmurs, and he hears her moan in response, noticing that she is trying to fight the sensation. — Does it hurt?

— No, it's just...uncomfortable, like a tickle.

She gasps, and tenses as his fingers leave her, her hole remaining open. He brings his tip against her entrance, and swallows, hearing him spit but trying to keep her mind elsewhere until he begins to enter, the stretch burning despite the lubrication, and small tears gathering in her eyes.

It doesn't go unnoticed by him, who is analyzing every movement and sees her tense, so he stops halfway and his hand travels to her core, inserting two fingers with ease while his palm is against her clit, in turn he leans over her, leaving a trail of kisses down her back.

— M-Move — She moans after a few minutes, the burning has not completely dissipated but the pleasure is overwhelming and she feels another orgasm stalking her while the feeling of fullness makes her mind spin. He obeys, entering all the way with a low moan, all her insides squeezing him while his hands rest on her hips. — Logan, please.

She whispers, her thighs tighten around his hand and he feels her walls contract, he hasn't moved yet, but she is quick to establish a rhythm on her own and that's when he follows her, with slow and deep thrusts. She's quick to lift her leg, placing it on the counter so he can penetrate her deeper.

— Hold on a little.

He growls, placing his hand on hers causing her to look over her shoulder at him curiously, a slight nod from him causing her to sneer with a weak smile as pleasure shakes him again, but this time it holds, and his fingers squeeze her hips until they leave marks.

His rhythm becomes more disordered as they both approach orgasm, and he hears her struggle to form coherent sentences while the only thing that escapes her mouth are moans. His balls slap her with each thrust, and his own member throbs, precum beginning to fill her and ease her entry as his fingers bring her to the edge.

Her walls squeeze him, tremble, and contract. He watches her arch her back and he buryes himself all the way in, his thrusts becoming rougher as he fills her, staying inside her until he feels her melt beneath him.

It takes him a few seconds until he pulls out of her, returning his member to the inside of his pants and his gaze travels to her core, dripping from her both orifices and he grabs her torn shirt to clean it.

— Are you okay?

He asks, surrounding her waist to sit her up and sees her nod slightly, her voice coming out sleepy from the consecutive orgasms.

— Stay.

And he does, passing a hand under her knees to pick her up bridal style and take her to her bedroom.

//////////

Taglist: @bontensbabygirl @twinky-wink

[bewiiitched]

» Sex doll (chapter 3)

Author's note: Writing this hurts physically. Both of them are unhinged animals. Also, let me now if you want me to tag you! <3

WARNINGS: RAPE. +18, MDI. Gore (kinda), powers as drugs, torture, blood, violence, P in V, fingering, angst, dub-con, everything seems fixed until is not.

////////

She still fiddles with the syringe in her hand under the gaze of the mutant who doesn't bother to move. — You know, I thought that the whole tough guy act would last only in bed.

As expected, he doesn't appreciate her observation.

Logan decides he's had enough and grabs the hand that had the syringe, and she purposely drops it, pushing off and sending her leg against his chest, keeping him in place as her foot goes up to his throat and she is leaning herself against the front seat, gaining some distance. The silver glow catches the mutant's attention and she stabs his thigh, without flinching.

His claws return so she withdraws her foot in time before he can grab it. He catches her intention as he leans forward looking to grab her but intercepts the mutant's arm, grabbing his wrist and her legs take center stage, trying to get up, tries to get to the front seats and her fingers enter the wound on his thigh viciously.

There is no curse that can express his anger and his nostrils flare at the pain. She realizes that his nerves are still sensitive, but she digs them deeper, feeling the warm blood in her hand. At the same time, she kicks him with all her strength in the face, the crack of his nose makes her shudder and she manages to free her arm from his grip, so she pushes herself between the seats, her heartbeat echoing in her ears as she manages to open the door, with a grimace of pain she crawls trying to get out of the car but Logan's hand on her ankle stops her.

— Let me go!

She exclaims, and inside her anxiety eats away at the idea that he doesn't kill her. Because everything has gone so fucking wrong and neither pleasure nor pain seems to contain it so if she had to go back to the damn complex and confront Ajax, she would be sent to Wade as a damn toy to be disposed of. The decision of her superiors weighs on her and her stomach twists at the thought of having to repeat the situation if it was decided that she was not strong enough to take him down herself. The only viable option seems to be to escape from both of them. It was gonna be fun when they found out that she had deserted.

A gasp escapes her lips as she feels the tug on her leg and her hands grip the leather of the seats. She struggles, but it is obvious who has more strength and his hand closes on her thigh now that her bottom in the back of the car.

— Shit. — She curses, as her anxiety begins to transform into panic to escape, and she still struggles to avoid being dragged completely. Grabbing her hair his mouth sticks to her ear, and tears threaten to escape her eyes but she holds them back.

— I ain't playing, kid.

The seriousness in his tone makes her freak out and is there when she realizes she has crossed a line. Her hand grabs his, trying to free her hair but he hovers over her and wraps a hand around her waist, holding her in place.

— Let me go.

Her distress grows as his breath echoes in her ear. Her torso is still between the front seats, keeping her back hunched to ease the pull on her hair, the hand on her thigh traveling to her hip and his fingers curling, digging into her skin seeking to draw her to the back.

— Answer or I'm gonna rip off your fucking throat.

— Go fuck yourself.

Part of her hopes that if she pisses him off enough he’ll kill her. Which sounds a lot better than spending her life locked in a cell until Weapon X does it. Or Wade. If she even gets close to him in the first place.

— Is it the brotherhood?

— What? No. — she answers, sounding genuinely offended. She hated her powers, what she’d done with them. Why would she join a supremacist faction?

— You’re a mercenary?

A bitter laugh escapes her chest. — Do you think I’ve earned my pay, sweetheart?

She hears his exasperated sigh too close, and for a moment she thinks he’s pulling away, but his grip tightens on her hip. — Why did they send you?

If her joint was healing, she’d shrug. — Tests.

— Tests? Why the hell would they send you if not to kill me?

Sometimes she’s surprised by the secrecy the organization has achieved. If she knew what they were doing, would the X-men decide to get involved?

— If I tell you, would you kill me?

Logan seems to consider her question, and she snorts, rolling her eyes even though he can’t see her. It’s then that it all makes sense.

— You want me to kill you?

The hesitation and slowness with which he says it makes her laugh, and for a moment she forgets that she has one of the most dangerous mutants in the back of her vehicle half-undressed. And well, another one just a few meters away.

His grip softens, and she can see the hesitation in him. — Oh fuck you, are you going to play the hero? Send me to a special prison? You're wasting your time, Big boy, I'll die before I get into my cell.

There's venom in her voice when he confirms her fear, and her outburst is no different than the one that had him writhing on his knees, but, her fluids are out of his system. So there is no pain.

He can hear her breathing has relaxed but her heart still threatens to escape her chest. Is a surprise when his touch stops and she straightens up again with a grimace, everything hurts, and it seems ironic to her how with a power that can cause pain, she is the one who feels it the most.

He still looms over her. But it doesn't last long as Logan forces her to turn around, and this time she doesn't fight, there is a resigned look on her face that doesn't go away and his hand rests on her cheek.

— You had it planned from the beginning.

There is a hint of emotion, but if it is anger, disgust or mockery, she can't tell. It is not, until she looks at him, after fighting her own feelings that she realizes it is pity. — You could have knocked me out.

— Have you seen me well?

Maybe she would have succeeded, but she knew from the moment she had used her powers on herself, that the battle had taken another turn.

— Weapon X.

She says finally. And Logan's expression is sinister as he looks at her, his gentleness disappears when his hand squeezes her neck and by inertia she grabs his wrist.

— Weapon plus?

He asks, and despite the situation, she tilts her head in bewilderment. His gaze searches her eyes for any hint of a lie, any familiarity with the name, but ends up accepting that she doesn't know it.

— Speak. I want details, sweetheart.

The mocking tone in the nickname doesn't hide the threat. And she can see that she doesn't need to piss him off to get him to kill her.

— They're using your DNA to create new mutants. — She says, not bothering to sweeten her tone and she can see his gaze burning on her. — There's one in particular that's causing problems and they need to keep him under control.

He takes her time to weigh the information and his expression shows no emotion, part of her is curious about what he's thinking.

But It quickly disappears when he looks back at her with a disdainful look and his grip on her neck tightens, there's a low moan as she tries to pull away, her feet moving trying to push him, but he stops her by using his free hand to pull her closer and stays between her legs.

His gaze is impassive and she can see the resentment in his expression, it was not foreign to how he had labeled her in his mind. — Logan...

She moans, in a plea, her voice is hoarse from the pressure and her nails dig into his wrist as everything around her seems to spin. A part of her burns because she cares, because she still has hope to escape all the shit she's brought upon herself and no one seems to let her do it.

Tears slide down her cheeks and her breath struggles, her body going limp against the seats as her eyes barely register him, everything blurring when he suddenly lets go.

She inhales sharply, leaning over at the stabbing pain in her lungs. She flinches when she feels his touch and his arms wrap around her, trying to lift her up. There's a sigh from him, and she shivers, barely managing to stay conscious. — Why…?

She murmurs, and rests her head against his chest as he slumps down onto the backseat with her on his lap. — You reek of regret, sweetheart.

(...)

When she wakes up again, she sits up suddenly as she realizes she doesn't know the place. Her heart flutters in her chest and she tries to piece together the fragments of the day before. But the wounds on her body make her remember easily.

She tries to get up from the bed she's in and inspects the room. Logan is the last thing she remembers and it's not comforting. There is a window and she doesn't waste any time in approaching it, but it is when she sees herself in the reflection that she notices the necklace on her neck and everything around her shakes.

She freezes halfway, but sees that wherever she is, is surrounded by trees. The door opens and she steps back instinctively, grabbing the lamp on the nightstand. Her labored breathing makes her grip tighten.

— Easy.

She keeps her teeth clenched and it becomes painful to grab the lamp, if she could use her powers, it would have already broken. He is dressed in a white sleeveless shirt and baggy jeans, with no wounds in sight. He waits for her to speak, but when she doesn't, Logan leans against the door frame watching her lose her temper inside her mind.

— Where the fuck did you bring me?

Her voice is still hoarse and the marks on her neck are less visible, but they remain. It makes him think of a cornered animal, not that he can blame her when she was already one inside the car and there she kept her powers.

— A cabin.

He answers simply and watches as she puts the lamp back in its place. His sigh is shaky as he crosses his arms over his chest and closes the door behind. The necklace is indicative of the situation and it terrifies her.

— What's the plan?

His lack of response only confirms it. A damn cell. She could laugh if her throat wasn't raw. — Let me go. You won't see me again.

— No.

He growls, and comes closer. It's not his decision. But it doesn't make her feel better. His brow furrows as he watches her back away and there's desperation in her eyes. — I can tell you everything, give you the damn location, just let me go.

His lips turn into a line, the team was already in charge of gathering information and it didn't take long for them to discover that the problematic mutant was called Deadpool. So she didn't have too many cards to play.

He hadn't been long in learning that at the time, the mercenary was in charge of hunting down anyone involved with the project. But he keeps that information to himself. A consensus had been reached, and it had been decided that the best option was to keep her under surveillance until she could be moved. And Logan's resistance to her power had made it clear that he would be in charge of supervising her.

She ends up giving in and lets herself fall on the bed, her gaze is lost as she seems to meditate on the situation and out of the corner of her eye she sees him leave the room.

/////

Night has come when she decides it's time to leave the bedroom, and a part of her is relived that the door is not closed. Toss and turn, she had rolled in bed trying to fall asleep but had woken up late in the afternoon and assumed that her body had had enough with 12 hours of sleep.

Not that she agreed.

She grimaces as she notices that everything is silent. With her abilities repressed she finds it difficult to adjust to the fact that her senses are those of a normal human and that makes her more alert. The hallway is dark and she notices that the cabin is small, instinctively her gaze focuses on the front door, but at best it would be locked.

And she had already taken too many risks when she had her powers.

Her feet move on their own when she hears him. — Are you going somewhere?

His tone leaves no room for jokes, and when she turns her face partially to look at him, she sees him standing behind her. His hair is strangely disheveled and his shirt is wrinkled. But there is no trace of drowsiness in his voice. She knows what he thinks and sees no point in denying it, but that doesn't stop her from raising her hands in a harmless gesture. — Where's the kitchen?

His brow furrows even more which makes her wonder if he has ever stopped looking permanently annoyed. She notices as he approaches a few steps, that he is assessing the situation.

The walk to the kitchen is silent, and she can swear that the mutant's gaze is fixed on her. The hairs on her neck stand up at the thought. Or maybe she is paranoid. Neither option is very reassuring.

She hears the click of the switch and the light turns on. She tries to hide the fact that her eyes are searching for the nearest sharp weapon and she jumps slightly when she feels the brush of his shirt against her back. Walking past her she sees him go to a piece of furniture and take out a bottle of whiskey.

His expression is serious and for a moment she wonders if her powers have left any after-effects. She swallows, noticing the dryness of her throat and searches through the cupboards until she finds a glass and then goes to the fridge and fills it with water.

She takes a small sip and in the background she hears the movement of the bottle. Her world slows down as she tries to find a solution, she does not want to act on impulse although a part of her sees no other option. The fatigue that had plagued her during the fight was gone, but her injuries weren't. And then there were her non-existent powers.

It was going to be fun.

She catches a sudden movement out of the corner of her eye, and the situation falls apart. His fucking senses.

She lunges for the damn door as she lets the glass crash against the kitchen counter, it shatters, and though she cuts herself, she manages to grab a piece in her hand. She puts it in her pocket, her nails digging into her palm, trying to stop the wound from closing.

She hasn't even gotten halfway there when his arm closes around her forearm. This time she doesn't kick him, she lets him pull her close, grabs his wrist, and twists hers the other way, managing to get away when now she's the one who grabs him, tries to bend his arm but Logan grabs her neck.

She doesn't give in, she lifts her leg and throws it over his shoulder, his grip loses strength and she pushes herself off, hooking both legs and falls on her back,

dragging him with her. The sharp pain in her lower back makes her curse. He grunts and tries to pull away but she grabs his wrist and twists it.

She's on her side but she tries to get him to turn his back, and turns her hip to the opposite side. Claws clack and her grip tightens.

He's not trying to kill her but that doesn't mean he's going to be gentle. His claws dig into her thigh up to his knuckles. The scream tears through her throat but her grip doesn't let up despite the gushes of blood that come out, he pulls them back as she sobs in pain, her jaw aching from the force with which her teeth clench. Despite the burning in her muscles, she fights back out of pure rage, and frees her injured leg to kick him, the sole of her foot connecting with his cheekbone and his head snapping back.

— Bitch.

He growls, and the irritation is turning into something more. She pushes herself up, sitting and still holding him when It pulls out the piece of glass, stabbing him in the throat over and over again with animal rage, growls coming out of her mouth until his hand closes on her wrist.

She doesn't give a shit about her powers, the necklace, Ajax and the project when what's in front of her is the impediment to her escape.

She feels the pressure and knows that the bastard is trying to break her join. The grip on his shoulder is stronger than ever because the blood that stains them could make her lose her technique. She decides to make the pain serve a purpose but Logan manages to make her drop the glass.

— Stop it already.

There's an angry tone in his voice, and she knows that is taking him effort not to kill her. Still she doesn't respond. Instead, she uses her free hand to dig her nails into the wound on his neck, managing to sink two fingers into his flesh that twists in circles. She feels him squirm and lets go of her wrist. The whole area tingles and there is a sharp pain but that doesn't stop him from closing his fist and punching her in the stomach and Logan rolls over while the hand she had previously grabbed rests against the ground.

Trying to get up, the glass is lost and he manages to lift them both by grabbing her throat with his still trapped arm.

The murder attempt is a two-person affair, and he pushes her against the fridge door, trying to get free. She moans at the second blow to her back, but then she realizes that her collar has loosened, a wave of euphoria runs through, she frees him from the grip of her legs when a fist goes her way, managing to stop him by grabbing his arm and pushes herself again, bending her legs and kicking his hip causing him to move away slightly.

With her throat free from his hand and soon from the collar. Both are panting for different reasons, and she lunges at him raising her fist but he dodges it, grabs her and throws her towards the cabinets where her neck hits the edge of one.

there is a sound that makes them shudder.

Click.

A painful laugh escapes her lips when she feels the tickle on her body. Blessed healing.

He doesn't share her joy. He lunges at her like a predator, claws out because now she is a danger and she tries to steps aside but his claws scratch at her side and she sinks her own fingers into the wound on her thigh staining them with blood.

Her other hand grabs his forearm, and her fingers slip into his mouth roughly, her teeth scratching her, her blood coming into contact with his saliva and he resists the urge to bite her fingers. Unexpected for the mutant but effective, she winks at him before making everything into pain.

His nerves throb and there is a sharp pain throughout his body. He no longer bleeds and the wound on his neck has healed but he remembers the pain on a loop. There is no sound that can escape his throat.

He is covered in her blood and his shirt is no longer white, the pain in her thigh makes the one in her shoulder seem silly and she knows that she will have to hurry if she wants to get into the forest.

She has learned her lesson and gives him no rest, she keeps him for minutes, the spasms make his knees finally give out and he falls.

Losing patience, she opens the drawers looking for the cutlery, when she finally finds it after opening four, she takes out a knife that she stabs into his throat.

The blood gurgles and he seems to choke, but it does not make her back down even though she wants to. She turns him, from one direction to another and begins to wonder if he can even go into shock when a drop of blood falls on the floor, one of many as she notices the crimson liquid coming out of her nose.

She shakes at the idea. That is not her damn limit.

Her concentration wanes, and although in general terms pain is the easiest thing that the body can solve ending in unconsciousness, it is also the most demanding, since she had to constantly force control on the nerves.

Different situation when it came to pleasure and other sensations.

— Damn you.

Logan raises his head, there is a trickle of blood in his mouth and she realizes that he has bitten the inside of himself, his cheeks or his tongue, it doesn't interest her. He spits out the blood and growls, the effort is evident on his face and there is a trace of sweat on his face. Suddenly, his breathing is labored as the pleasure takes its toll on him.

— Are you not going to faint?

She spits in frustration and a frown, digging her nails into his arm until they draw blood but his body shivers with pleasure. The hand that is not clinging to him travels to his face and kisses him, the pain returns and shakes him.

His breathing stops for a moment and she finally pulls away from his mouth, his eyes are closed but his body seems to bear it and she moans in irritation. She abruptly pushes him to the ground and positions herself over him, her fingers close on his jaw, and stops the pain but keeps her grip in warning.

— I don't want to hurt you. Just let me go. Please.

And there is a desperation that makes Logan look at her even when the whole room is blurry and he can barely focus on her despite the proximity, his mind is not clear and the only sound he manages to make is a growl while showing his teeth in threat. The tension in his body is brutal and he struggles to speak when the sharp pain in the muscles of his face draws a moan from him.

— No.

He sees her face turn to stone and Logan can almost mock when the pleasure shakes him. He looks at her stunned because that was not what he was expecting and his nostrils dilate when he feels her nails caress the wound he had previously stabbed. One after another without rest and everything in his body seems to tremble at her touch.

She kisses him again and it is almost intimate. She runs her hands under his wet shirt and feels his hair stand on end, when she leaves his mouth, she goes down to his neck and leaves a trail of kisses that makes his hands clench into his fists.

Despite his tension, he ignores her as her touch remains gentle. — Why not?

She whispers, and he sighs heavily trying to concentrate on the ceiling lamp. Her caresses go down to his arms and he swallows when he can feel the touch on his knuckles, he is tempted to take out his claws but his body does not respond.

— Logan.

The impatience in her gaze does not show in her voice. And he tenses when he feels her teeth on his earlobe in a soft bite. — I want a answer.

She murmurs and he realizes how consistent her power is in contrast to the fight in the car, her control does not waver. She notices that he is alert, and she doesn't blame him, knowing he is expecting the pain to come at any moment.

Her hand goes down to his hips, and rests on his thigh making small circular movements, her hips go back and she positions herself until their pelvises touch. She sees his gaze fixate on the area.

The pain greets him like an old friend. He jerks his head back and she herself grimaces in shock, the intensity has worsened because it is now constant, the damage she needs to inflict on him to beat his healing is almost impossible, so his nerves become more sensitive from the effort it takes to fight her power and heal at the same time.

She moves her hips on his but her body does not register the action until the rush of pleasure stops the pain. He is weakening, but it is not enough for her to escape safely. How long would it take to recover if she is not even unconscious?

— I am not going back there.

She continues trying to talk, and the only sign she has that he is listening to her is how his eyes move towards her, there is no muscle in his body that moves and this time it is not she who prevents him.

— Please. I just want to leave.

She murmurs, and he does not need his senses to know that she is telling the truth.

A part of him considers the idea of ​​leaving her. She's not a monster, but they can make her act like one and his condition is the living image of that.

He's not sure how well protected she'll be when they lock her up and the collar closes permanently around her neck, but she seems certain that she'll die. The verbal fight in the car leaves a bad taste in his mouth when he remembers it.

But it's not his decision, and there's no way to hide it from Jean or the professor when they question what happened. He looks away and hears her growl in frustration, the discomfort returns to her when nothing seems to convince him and the pain blinds him again.

It doesn't last long, or maybe everything feels the same now. Both hands position themselves on either side of his mouth and she kisses him, the range of emotions is so wide that it disconcerts him, there's anger, fear, frustration but he also captures an iota of vulnerability that devours him.

And his hand, despite the tremors, reaches for her neck, attracting her. He notices that her touch is stronger on demand, and when they part, his nose rests against her neck, and he can sense doubt in her, not in her power, as she continues to press the pleasure into his body.

They are both fragile for different reasons, and it doesn't take long for him to understand that she wants to stop fighting, she keeps looking at him, waiting for him to pierce her or knock her out, to fight his instinct like she had seen him do in the car.

But he doesn't, and the next time she kisses him he doesn't resist. He still feels her latent power in his body, but there is no pleasure, no pain, no itch that incites him to come closer or move away. It's all him and his hands travel to her hips, he grabs a handful of flesh and startled she moves slightly, causing his pants to tighten when he brushes against her core.

For the first time, Logan catches desire in her gaze, and the spasms are a thing of the past, he pulls her roughly and digs his fingers into her flesh, moving down to her ass, her hand travels to his belt to unbutton it but before her hand lowers his zipper, she leans towards him with one hand on the button of his pants and the other directs her to his chin.

Her gaze questions him, seeking permission and he nods slightly, there is a hint of relief in her gaze and she wastes no time in nibbling on his neck, she feels him rub, and she lowers his underwear hastily, her own core throbbing.

He is faster when he removes one hand from her hip with the other keeping it pinned in place, and sneaks inside her shorts. He feels her panties and inserts two fingers into her hole, the stretch makes her shudder, but she is soaked so the burning does not last too long. She moans, and leans against his chest, her hips suspended in the air as his fingers work their way in and her nails dig in as his thumb brushes her clit.

She squirms, but his movements are relentless as he drags her to orgasm. — F-Fuck. Don’t stop.

She gasps, and moves her hips forward to get more friction, small moans escaping her lips and her hand traveling to his member. — Does it hurt?

She asks, but she’s not looking at him, her voice barely holding any strength as she catches her breath and her walls clench around his fingers, she feels him tense as her fingers wrap around his cock. A wave of pleasure runs through him and she hears him moan as the pain in his erection eases.

The sound is delicious.

His fingers leave her and he hears her moan, but he doesn’t give her a chance to complain as he pushes her pants down and moves her underwear to the side, lining up the tip against her entrance.

It's her turn to grunt, and she places both hands on his shoulders before dropping her hips completely. There's a moan in unison and she arches her back as she feels him fill her completely.

His fingers curl into her hair and he kisses her fiercely, yet her power takes a backseat. It doesn't take long for her to form a rhythm as she rides him, and there's no coherent sound coming out of her mouth, her own fingers tingling as she holds back her power. So her nails dig in.

She spreads her legs wider but he has another idea, and they both roll across the floor until he's on top. He pulls out of her, gripping her thighs before putting her legs over his shoulders and she winces at the dull ache in her leg, the blood is dry but she doesn't doubt there'll be a scar.

It's now he who looks at her questioningly, and she gives him a dirty smile. — Are you gonna fuck me like you fi—

The taunt dies in her throat when a scream escapes, and she wraps her arms around his neck for stability as he slams into her hips, her eyes widening at the new angle and her breathing coming in ragged gasps, he's buried balls deep.

His pace is animalistic, and the force of his thrusts keeps her busy while all she can do is take him. A wave of pleasure courses through her and she tenses, feeling his cock throbbing inside her but he's far from close, and he teases, attacking her clit, a shiver running through her and She clings to him. Her walls tightening from the impending orgasm.

— Logan.

She pants against his ear, and beyond the sound of their breaths, the watery sound of their intimacy takes center stage as he fucks her faster. It builds up, and the pull inside her tears her apart, the spasms causing him to loom over her more, until her knees are practically against her chest.

She looks up at him with watery eyes and shudders with pleasure, trying to recover from the orgasm but even fighting hadn't shown her mercy so he continues to attack her overstimulated clit.

— Too hard for you, sweetheart?

He teases, remembering her attempts to provoke him. And when she opens her mouth to fight back, he slips two fingers into her mouth. He catches her off guard, and she coughs lightly but her tongue wraps around them as she fills them with saliva without breaking eye contact.

She sees a hint of satisfaction in the mutant.

His throaty small laugh fills her ears, and her desire grows, she goes to get revenge, but she puts it off when she feels him lift her shirt and bra, capturing her right nipple in his mouth, arching her back into him as her hand grips the back of his neck.

The pleasure has her spinning, and it takes a little effort to focus as another orgasm threatens her, she pulls away from his mouth, and he looks at her catching a shift. She gives it back to him, pain and pleasure as she lets him fuck her. And she fights her own as she sends a rush of pain that lingers, she draws it out with so much effort that her head throbs, and her nose bleeds again.

She pushes herself up and his cock slips out of her. She lets go of his neck and grabs his arm. His weight gives way and he falls on top of her, she grimaces.

— I’m sorry.

Is all she says and her voice breaks, and she cringes slightly, there are tears forming in her eyes as she looks up at the ceiling light, still pushing her power until they’re both on the verge of passing out.

She can't make him pass out, but he's on his way to unconsciousness and she rushes to get him off of her. The adamantium skeleton makes it difficult. Moving him seems impossible but she manages to get out from under him and as soon as he stops touching her, she starts a race against time to the door, throws it open and runs despite the pain.

She pulls down her shirt and rearranges her pants without stopping moving, part of her is tempted to use her powers to mitigate her pain, but she rejects the idea and forces her legs until her muscles ache and her chest burns.

It takes her what seems like hours to reach the damn road, and she wants to stop, damn it, she's sure that if she stops the tiredness will not let her wake up again, but the fear of him reaching her makes her paranoid about any noise.

She follows the road without stopping, and she can feel the lights of a car behind her but she doesn't stop until the driver brakes a few meters ahead. He must look awful, because the middle-aged man who steps out of the vehicle has lost color in his face.

— Please! — She screams, real panic in her voice. — I need help.

Desperation seeping into her voice. He looks at her and nods dazedly, stepping inside and practically lunges for the door, climbing inside.

— What happe-

His neck snaps and she shakes but tries not to fall apart and drags him into the passenger seat, swapping places as she slams on the gas.

Freedom hits her, and she just hopes it lasts.

////////////

Tags: @bontensbabygirl

[bewiiitched]

Sex doll (chapter two)

Autor note: I'm so happy with all the support, thank you very much <3

WARNINGS: There is rape in this chapter, so DON'T read if it makes you umconfortable. +18, non-consensual oral sex, fingering.

///////

His silence is heavy as she recounts what happened and only serves to make her feel more disgust towards her powers, enough pain and the body would go into a neurogenic shock that would make him fall into unconsciousness leaving him vulnerable.

The day of the mision, despite having been warned about the danger Logan posed, his willpower had taken her by surprise. Not that finding him had been difficult, he had been assigned to a mission with Summers. And his location was discovered by his superiors, reducing, not just one, but two of the most powerful mutants seemed like an idea that she did not doubt had been Ajax's initiative to get her out of the way.

And yet, she had only needed to catch Scott off guard outside a gas station when he was filling up the gas tank. With no Wolverine in sight, the she saw the opportunity even though she was still on alert.

Parking the vehicle a few meters from his, it didn't take much to catch the mutant's attention as she prepared to fill her own tank.

— Do you need any help?

The friendly voice of the mutant made her turn her head with a shy smile, looking at him over her shoulder before turning around while pretending to struggle with the self-refueling machine in front of her. — Thanks, I'm not used to doing it myself.

With a breathy laugh, she stepped aside to let him pass, in turn, discreetly, her hand went to the pocket of her shorts, taking out a syringe with her own blood.

— Thanks again, sweetie — She repeated, before approaching, sticking the needle in his arm, while in a quick movement her free hand went to the back of his neck and slammed his face against the body of his car.

With a bewildered groan, pain surged across the mutant's face as his blood began to take effect, causing him to lean forward, clutching his sore nose, which thankfully hadn't been fractured. Knowing she had to get rid of him quickly and making sure the cameras couldn't catch them from that angle, she barely managed to stop the fist that was coming her way before kicking him out of inertia, grabbing that same wrist and squeezing so that his nerves burned with pain, watching him writhe, she sighed. — Shh, it'll be quick.

She murmured, playing with his hair in a reassuring gesture as she pushed his body to the limit, rendering him unconscious in minutes. Seeing how his body still writhed in unconsciousness under overstimulated nerves, she grimaced, knowing she should erase all evidence.

With Summers unconscious and the recordings erased, she hurried out of the gas station, glancing sideways at Scott's still unconscious body in the back of his vehicle after she had dragged him there.

She barely has time to react when she feels an arm pull hers, and twist it behind her back. The sound of claws coming out of his knuckles makes her tense but she still remains calm even when they are against her neck. She can't say he's as calm.

— Who the fuck are you?

He growls, and she shudders at the closeness, she practically feels his breath against the skin of her neck and the strength of his grip leaves little room for her to move and her free hand struggles to reach the syringe that rests in her other pocket, however, the sound of the rustling of clothes doesn't go unnoticed by Logan, causing his grip to tighten.

— He'll recover. He's just unconscious.

And part of her hopes it will be for a long time. The pressure makes her gasp and her mind doubts her next move now that his claws practically pierce her skin, managing to draw weak threads of blood.

There is no sound that can warn of his attack, and for a few seconds she can only hear the accelerated heartbeats of both and their labored breathing, it is then when a wave of pain makes her clench her teeth, and the sound of her dislocated shoulder breaks the silence.

Her body tenses, and for a moment she fears breaking her teeth when trying to suppress the scream, leaning forward, she feels the discharge all over her arm, and without thinking she drops to her knees on the ground, taking advantage of the fact that now his hand is at the height of her mouth and she can bite it.

— Fuck!

He moans when her teeth sink in and the metallic taste floods her mouth, but she keeps the skin between her teeth while her free hand rummages through her pocket managing to take out her syringe and stick it into his thigh.

She doesn't underestimate his healing, she's heard enough rumors to know not to let him attack, but that doesn't stop her from panicking when the mutant manages to pull his injured hand away from her mouth. So she quickly grabs the same arm he was trying to pull away, and standing up, she headbutts him backwards. She barely manages to stun him, but it's enough when she twists his wrist and kicks his chest.

The tickling in her arm is a reminder of how it will end if she doesn't manage to take him down and she begins to doubt if her powers take effect on him. So she pulls his arm and brings him closer roughly, only for his claws to dig into her side.

The pain doesn't register in her body, a dangerous move since controlling her own nerves has always brought consequences. But at that moment her main objective is to get out of there alive.

Her hand pulls his hair drawing his mouth, and the kiss makes her shudder as she feels his animal desire. Their tongues fight and Logan growls, his autonomy stopping when he realizes he can't keep fighting, his body trembles at the thought of harming her and his claws disappear as he pulls her towards him.

The strain begins to take its toll on her sooner than expected and she takes the risk of keeping control over him over her own pain. Letting consume her in waves as her grip on him tightens, keeping his body frozen. Breaking the kiss, she distances herself from his face but not his body, her gaze lost as her nervous system is saturated, she can feel the blood staining her shirt, the hot liquid never ceasing to be a reminder of her failure.

She swallows, coming back to reality and her gaze collides with the mutant's darkened eyes. There is no turning back, and both ends seem like imminent death so she forgets about the idea of ​​freeing him. Not that she could do it without pain in between.

There is a nod of recognition from her, and she releases his nerves, letting him move at will. She has seen the consequences of her power on more occasions than she would like, and in years past she would have referred to her powers as a method of defense for the damage that could cause. She no longer sees the purpose.

— Stop this.

His voice is full of desire and she can see the internal struggle that is going on between his mind and his body, frustration consuming him as his hands shake and small spasms lurk in his muscles. There is heat in his gaze, one that promises to destroy her if she dares to lose sight of the danger in front of her.

— I can't. — She whispers, her voice showing a hint of remorse but her gaze is resigned. — There is no point in fighting.

The emotion in her voice is long gone, and it is more of an affirmation than a threat, her powers had been studied thoroughly and letting the nerves stimulated for too long caused the person to act more on instinct, making them more sensitive to any external sensation. She presses her powers, which sends a stab of pain to her wound that has stopped bleeding, but is healing slower than expected. Having control over her own nerves had always been a double-edged sword, as it left her vulnerable to losing control over someone else's body.

But it wasn't like that risk was a surprise either, she had made peace with whatever was going to happen during her mission. As she would do with Wade if she was successful, if she couldn't knock him out she could distract him so someone else could do it.

Logan's sanity seems to finally break when she kisses him again, she squirms slightly when he grabs her battered arm and they both back up until her back hits the car window of her car. His teeth run down her neck and his incisors scrape her skin, making her shudder and her hands slide down his back.

Her head rests against the roof of the car, looking up at the sky. The mutant's touch becomes distant in her mind, but returns when she can feel him struggling to undo the button of her pants. His iron grip shows her that deep down he still struggles to free himself, but his instinct has been unleashed.

— It's like an itch you can't scratch.

She whispers against his ear, and to her surprise, his face lifts to look at her, there's white-hot fury and for a moment the sound of his claws echoes in her brain, but when she looks there's no metal in sight.

— Who's bossing you around?

There's a sly smile on her face but there's no trace of humor in her eyes. Her hand goes to his chin to pull him back and shut him up, but Logan stops her, grabbing her wrist halfway.

His body craves her touch, but it's not just that, there's no pain in his body beyond numbness in his muscles from being frozen in place. At the same time, his senses seem to pick up on everything that's happening around him even though his instinct clouds his judgment to a large extent.

Against all sense, his claws come out but this time she makes no attempt to stop it. Partly curious about how much he can take, she's just delaying the pain of course, if it really did become a danger she'd already be joining her partner in the back of his car.

—Killing me won't work, Big boy.

Logan seems to consider it, his body tingling from so much stimulation and the mere touch of her makes him shudder. His pants tighten and he hisses, bringing his hand up to his erection, trying to soothe the pain by stroking it over his clothes.

— Can't you stop it?

— It not that easy.

— You know. — he begins, there are layers to his voice and lust doesn't quite cover his mocking tone, and where there's desire, anger begins to boil. —I think you're lying.

And there's no doubt in his words. Her breath catches in her chest, her powers might be useful on undercover missions but there was a reason she'd kept working in the background and that was because there was always a risk. There were not enough fingers on her hands to count how many minds she had destroyed by replacing the pain in a victim's body with pleasure and vice versa, leaving behind after-effects that unconsciousness could not heal, even if the body healed their mind would still remember.

Much of her skill was to be vulnerable, as despite her hand-to-hand training, her powers had no effect unless she managed to get close to the enemy and somehow introduce her fluids. It was then that she could relax a little, knowing that death was not an option if she remained in control.

In her early days she had seen men mutilate themselves, she had seen them faint, beat themselves, scratch themselves until they bled, so pain was, in her opinion, something much more merciful, but it also posed a risk, since the stimulus had to be constant or it would give the victim the opportunity to fight back.

Therefore, pleasure was seen as the safest option by her superiors, however, seeing the danger it could pose, they took it upon themselves to make her powers useless against Ajax, guaranteeing control over her.

There is a hint of annoyance in her gaze. Did he think she was enjoying this shit?

Her gaze darkens as she snaps, and on impulse she makes his nerves register nothing but pain. — Do you want it to end quickly, darling?

She growls and watches him squirm, he can't even scream. And as soon as he's suffered the pain she stops. Logan gasps, stunned, and then he feels her lips on his. The kiss is full of anger, her nails dig into his scalp and the mutant's hand curls around his neck.

Her breathing is heavy and she had enough of being played with, a wave of pleasure runs through him and the moan is muffled in his mouth, she bites his lower lip, which seems to invite it and his hand searches through his pants until it reaches the hem of his underwear.

She doesn't give him the option to move away and tenses slightly when his fingers run over her lips, one threatens to enter and she endures the initial sting, she is barely wet and chooses to speak to distract herself when he insert a second finger.

— Your nervous system accelerated because of my saliva. I'm just keeping it stable while you're on alert. — she begins, her voice is heavy, she has lost track of time and it is only when she realizes that the sun is setting. Her hand releases it and she gropes behind her back looking for the door handle, the sound makes Logan look at her, his jaw is still clenched and looking at her with rage but there is no longer a murderous intent in his eyes. She decides to ignore it. — If I didn't, your mind would collapse from perceiving so much stimulus and you would lose your mind trying to relieve it.

Her powers might be weakened because of having used them on herself, but she had sent a considerable amount of pain in her outburst. And it had only stopped him from screaming, where Scott had passed out.

She pushes him lightly, ignoring the pain in her wound, and opens the door, letting herself fall inside the back, his hands stopping on either side of the door, and the only thing that unites them is that her legs are wrapped around his hip. There is a silent warning in her gaze as a doubt grows in him. — How do you stop it?

« Is it the only way? »

She interprets, and it is his turn to smile mockingly. — I could make it hurt, but it hasn't had much effect on you.

She realizes that his healing is going according to the rumors, she still has a couple of syringes to ensure control but that doesn't seem to affect him, a larger dose doesn't guarantee that she can bend him so that he doesn't reduce her, and if it weren't for the constant contact between them she wonders how long it would take his system to get rid of something that it considers a threat.

The grip on his hip tightens and pulls him, causing his erection to rub against her thigh and she sees his muscles tense, no matter how much he fights against the excitement, as long as his nerves are still stimulated, everything will be pleasurable.

It's evident, from his look, that he doesn't quite believe her explanation, but Logan ends up giving in, and positions himself over her leaving the back door ajar, the closeness making the atmosphere tense.

— Do it.

Her eyebrows rise, and there's surprise written all over her face, is the idiot choosing the pain?

Logan curses when his erection begins to throb, for a moment, he moves thinking that he has achieved some autonomy, but he quickly loses all freedom of movement when she kisses him by force, the pleasure makes him shudder and his hips swing against her tigh.

She decides to deny any other perspective than to finish the mission. So her hand moves down to his pants, undoing his belt and slipping inside his underwear. The brush of her fingers against his cock makes him lean further towards her, and the familiar sound of metal is heard as his claws dig into the seat above her head.

It is his turn to kiss her and she pulls away slightly from the intensity, but he catches her, preventing her from breaking the kiss, and her grip on his member tightens. When they both separate, she struggles to catch her breath and her hand moves up and down.

Confident, she stops the extra stimulation, since his body still suffers the effects of her power as long as she continues to touch him, keeping him receptive. His hands go to her clothes, pulling down her pants to reveal her black underwear.

The scent of arousal is minimal, but it makes his own resurge and Logan grunts, trying to keep himself sane, moving his hand up to the shoulder he had previously dislocated and which had slowly, but painfully, popped back into place.

His fingers tighten around the joint and he pulls his head away, stopping her from kissing him again. A cry escapes her mouth and she jerks away, slamming her side against the inside of the car. Her pained expression is lost as Logan doesn't look at her, and she moves her legs out from under him, intent on moving away. Then he catches her free hand.

— Stop moving. Who orders you?

He questions, his tone is demanding now that he looks at her, a leg is put between hers and his erection throbs as a reminder. She glares at him, gritting her teeth but tries to keep her mind blank, despite being immobilized.

Regaining control is complicated when the pain in her shoulder joins the wound in her abdomen, and doubts about her own power begin to arise, having stopped the pain before has taken its toll on her and fatigue begins to be evident as her effort seems to surpass her healing.

Patience is not the mutant's strong point and the sound of his claws gives him away, he releases her shoulder that begins to go numb and lowers his claws to her neck, which raise her chin slightly. The hand that grabbed her wrist tightens, and the pressure makes her raise her head defiantly.

For a moment, she fears he's buying time. If he'd recovered, she wouldn't have a chance to fight Scott again when she could barely fight Logan. Would they kill her?

It wouldn't be a fate much different than the one she'd suffer at the hands of Ajax if he found out she spoke out. On the other hand, the thought of being captured would only delay her death; Weapon X wouldn't let her live anyway.

She tries to move her legs but is forced to throw her head back when the claws come up to eye level and she feels the mutant's knee against her core. The solution and the problem.

— Who? — The impatience is clear, but she also senses a certain frustration in him and there's a change in his gaze that lets her know he's reaching his limit. In any case, she smirks. His grip travels to her jaw and she wonders if he's going to break it. His fingers dig in when her silence remains and she can see his gears turning in his head as he rubs his erection against her thigh.

A shiver runs through her. — Why are you interested? — She speaks at last, her voice a whisper but her suggestive tone makes the mutant look at her with a frown. — You know them well. They created you.

However, she catches the excitement in the way his gaze travels to her lips. — Hmm, you like dirty talk?

She hums maliciously, winking, and Logan looks at her with disgust, removing his hand from her mouth when he realizes the risk it poses and places it on her shoulder. Her thigh moves roughly, pushing his erection, and a shiver runs through the mutant, the heat begins to be overwhelming and she makes a risky movement by passing her leg under his arm and placing it over his shoulder, using her heel to push his neck towards her without stopping the friction against his erection.

His mouth opens to speak and she suspects it's a threat but stops when his hand lets go of her shoulder to try to get rid of the foot against his neck but she curses, pulling her foot away and moving closer to hook his arm under her leg.

In turn, she forces her injured arm to move and her hand closes on his erection. — Stay still.

She speaks, her voice is stony as her gaze burns, daring him to move. Pain and pleasure in the tips of her fingers. There is not a muscle in the mutant's body that moves and she sighs in relief.

— Believe me, sweetheart, pain would be easier but I'm quite tired.

An idea crosses her mind and her gaze darkens, looking at the mutant as she calculates how viable it is that he can break free from her control again. She decides the risk is worth it, as she pushes him slightly to the side, making him lean against the seats, seeking to position herself on top of him, leaving him free to accommodate himself as she now free of restrictions closes the car door. The tingling in his body grows as the pleasure leaves him vulnerable, being able to hear his accelerated heartbeat and she seems to regain his focus as she lowers himself slightly until he is pressed against the door, her mouth traveling from his torso until she is at the level of his hips.

Her other hand squeezes his testicles, unconsciously Logan raises his hips towards her and her tongue runs up his length, before inserting the tip into her mouth and wrapping her tongue around the beginning. She feels him move, and his hand travels to her hair, his fingers wrapped in her scalp, yearning for more.

But of all the places he could leave his hand, her head seems the worst. Avoiding the risk of ending up with his claws through her skull, she raises her own hand and withdraws his hand placing it on his thigh.

Her movements are tortuous at first, and no speed seems to be enough so his hips move trying to set a rhythm and she ends up giving in. She hollows her cheeks, stifling the obscene sounds as his cock hits her throat again and again, going down to the base before coming back up. Sucking on his tip, a thread of saliva hangs from her lips and the young woman moistens them.

She doesn't pull away completly, with his member between her lips, but she takes a breath before inserting it again, and she notices that the mutant's knuckles are white as he keeps his fists clenched. She shudders, refocusing her attention and resumes the back and forth.

Logan on the other hand, seems to fight with every fiber of his being at the image before him. She is kneeling while he remained reclined in the back seat. At some point during the fight her hair had fallen loose and now more than ever he seemed to notice the excitement coming from her, watching her with darkened eyes as she unconsciously rubbed her thighs together.

Her gaze was focused and she barely looked at him, her face downcast as he watched his member disappear into her mouth and his teeth clenched, each time she sucked. Feeling the release closer than before, he snaps.

His hand pulls at her hair and she gasps choking the sounds still with his cock on her mouth. She moans in pain at the burning in her scalp, trying to pull away but finding it impossible when Logan's hand sinks her head against his hip and his pubic hair tickles her face. A wave of adrenaline runs through her, even with the lack of movement she could still touch him, freeze him, but he seems to have already become familiar with her attitude and his grip tightens, causing small tears to form in the corners of her eyes as she struggles to breathe.

It's seconds that seem like hours as he holds her down, his head traveling back as he closes his eyes trying to control herself, it's when he opens them that she notices the woman's frightened look and there's something primal that twists.

— Relax.

His own breathing seems to calm down as she reluctantly obeys, relaxing her jaw as he takes it as a sign to move and his hips take control, fucking her mouth as tears slide down her cheeks.

His breathing gets heavier and he spreads his thighs wider, his pace rough and saliva dripping from her mouth as she tries to maintain her posture and hollowed cheeks. — Fucking hell.

He curses, now that he seems lost in his own climax, she decides to speed up the process before being knocked out, a wave of pleasure makes him look at her, seeing her hand on his thighs, and by instinct his lip twists showing his teeth, but one after another follows and she can taste the salty liquid at the back of her throat. There is no rest as her face remains pressed against his hips, his hand travels to the back of her neck and she knows that even though he is looking at her, he is not seeing her.

She feels his member throbbing in her throat as he holds her down, moving without giving her the chance to rise and her nails dig into his skin when without warning, his semen floods her mouth, making her swallow instinctively.

She walks away coughing, with traces in her mouth and sees him panting, a thin layer of sweat covering his body, and most importantly, there are no claws in sight. Neither of them says anything while they recover.

Looking up, and trying to get up, she feels his gaze on her, there is a hint of tiredness that in no way rivals hers, and despite the fact that her powers begin to dissipate, by inertia his gaze drops to the point between her legs, like a shark smelling blood while it puts his cock back in its clothes.

Both are cautious of the other's movements. But she had previously taken advantage to grab another syringe and Logan can distinguish the red liquid that is her blood. He doesn't say anything but his gaze challenges her to try, he doesn't think she can do much. Her face has lost color and he notices how her body seems to struggle to heal the wounds caused. — Who sent you?

Surprisingly, his voice is flat as he looks at her, and there's no hint of annoyance or threat, but their gazes are locked on each other.

— I thought you were over it.

— Fucking answer.

— Ah, there it is again.

Tags: @bontensbabygirl

[bewiiitched]

INTRO:

Sex doll (chapter one)

Warnings: MINORS DON'T INTERACT, +18, mentions of rape, mutant powers as drugs, violence, alcoholism, age gap (reader is mid 20's)

///////

The next day, just as he had said, Wade practically drags her out of his apartment before she has a chance to speak.

— Let me go! I know what you’re planning!

She growled, backing up heavily as the mercenary pulled on her arm, so she tried to kick him only for him to catch her leg and kick her back, causing her to fall to the floor. Seeing an advantage, the young woman was quick to strengthen her grip, grabbing the wrist that held his arm and gaining stability before kicking him in the balls, earning a groan of pain that forced him to double over for a moment.

Having lost strength in her grip, she wasted no time in pulling on his arm and freeing his leg, using both to hit his shin as she pulled, causing him to lose his balance and fall on top of her.

“It’s not me you have to— you bitch!

He groaned in pain, pulling away the arm that had been bitten while dodging the fist that was headed towards his cheekbone. — right, right, I get it!

He exclaimed, under her warning gaze. One touch and he would be screaming in pain. And the mercenary seemed to be considering it given his malicious look.

— You know a kiss would have done the same, no need to bite, but if you like it rough...

He spoke in a suggestive tone, earning an innocent smile from the female, before she squeezed the arm that kept her against the ground and all gestures froze. Maintaining contact, she simply shook him off by wrapping her legs around his torso and turning her hips to the side.

— Shut the fuck up.

She growled, knowing that he was paralyzed thanks to her touch and spasms were beginning to haunt his body.

— A date. — She answered in an accusatory tone under the mercenary's fixed gaze. — Al told me, a double date, really? Forget it, I don't even know how he agreed.

Releasing her grip, the young woman smiled sarcastically because although she had freed her body so that she could move normally, she had stimulated her nerves in such a way that she couldn't get rid of the annoying itch for a while.

Seeing how it took effect and she dedicated a series of curses to him, Wade's gaze made her narrow her eyes in suspicion. — He doesn't even know.

— Well, it's easier to convince him if you're already there. You know, he's not very talkative.

— He never is.

— Your girlfriend has arrived.

Wolverine's voice takes them both by surprise, and they turn to look at him only to see him standing in the doorway, now open, of her apartment. Standing in his spot and observing the situation with a look that makes it clear he wants to stay out of it, the older man's lips curve into a smile as he watches the mercenary suffer in silence.

Judging by his appearance, it was clear that the mutant was heading somewhere, and Wade wasn't about to let it happen. — Hey, wait, wait, where are you going? I need support up there.

He spoke, causing Wolverine to raise an eyebrow, watching distractedly as Wade scratched his right arm until wounds began to appear that healed within a second. — Are you going to stop this? Give me a hand here!

He moaned, looking at her over his shoulder, feeling the itch all over his body and nowhere at the same time. Giving him an innocent smile, she shook her head, ignoring the knowing look Wade was throwing.

— Me? It seems like a matter of yours.

She answered in the same tone, as she saw Logan get up and their eyes connected for a second, making her turn around and grab a beer from the fridge only to realize there wasn't any.

— Wade. — She called in a soft voice, but with a murderous look. — Where is my beer?

— I needed it for yesterday's party, more people came than I imagined. And Logan? He's an alcoholic with guilt issues, you're made for each other!

Frowning, Logan looked at him with a glare. — He also took a tub of your ice cream.

— Hey!

Offended, he opened his mouth to reprimand him for the lack of companionship until out of the corner of his eye he caught reader approaching with a promising smile.

— Oops, that's my signal, it's not good manners to keep a lady waiting.

He muttered before rushing to the door, but not before pushing Logan inside the apartment and closing the door behind him. Offering an apologetic smile, she sighed. — I can barely stand his nonsense and I don't live with him, I don't know how you haven't killed him already.

— I killed him enough times during the mission. — He spoke, calming his gaze when he noticed her discomfort at his presence.

— You know, it seemed like you were going somewhere and I don't want to keep you, that idiot...

— Was planning a double date?

Her look must be comical, since Logan sketched a small smile. With a slight stutter she soon realizes that his enhanced senses are to blame and the she can't decide where to hide to escape the situation.

— Hell, apparently he had everything planned since I didn't go to dinner or so Al told me, he was talking to Peter about it! God, I-I didn't even know anything until today and obviously it's nonsense, he just doesn't know how to face Vanessa and makes an excuse, you're not even...

Her rant fades away when she notices the mutant's gaze on her, and involuntarily blushes with embarrassment as she realizes her nonsense. Under his scrutiny the she squirms nervously and Logan doesn't seem to want to break the silence as he analyzes her.

At first glance, the concern he had been able to notice in her for Wade had made him think that there could be something between them, so the mercenary's explanation at that moment had taken him by surprise, and from there the subject had cooled, if his version of that world had died as a hero, what had made him cross paths with a Weapon X participant?

— I don't know what he told you but...

Her voice is almost gone, not really knowing how to approach the subject, and at the same time, having believed that it was all forgotten. What was the point of all this if he wasn't her Logan? If she couldn't repair the damage she'd caused?

— Your scent is overwhelming— he growls, wrinkling his nose which makes him take a step back from the sensory overload.

— Well, mine only?

She realizes that the similarities between both variants are not few, and yet this Logan has a tired look that he hadn't seen in the original. A disdainful smile crosses the mutant's expression as he takes the hint and takes a few steps closer, taking a flask of alcohol out of his pocket. He barely used it, but it had become a habit to carry it when he had been forced to leave the bars of his world.

With a wry look, there is a look of understanding on her face as he turns to take out two glasses. — I'm not the best person to share alcohol with.

"Or saliva. »

She thinks with a grimace, as she pushes the glass in his direction, sliding it down the bar until it threatens to fall but the mutant grabs it in time, serving alcohol to both of them, she licks her lips thinking of what to say, she stops with a light laugh, the whole situation is ridiculous.

— You're not even him, you have to think I'm crazy.

She murmured, taking a seat behind the counter of her kitchen. Then she begins: — During my period in Weapon X, I was in charge of keeping the rest of the mutants in line, supervising the safety of the staff while they carried out the experiments.

She pauses to take a drink, and her expression turns sour at the memories that form in her mind. — Other times, it was to test their limits, punish them or make them more docile.

She can see the mutant's gears turning to understand the situation, and he opens his mouth with a cautious expression. — Did Mouth say something about fluids...?

— Aphrodisiacs? Yeah, fuck him.

Her voice is filled with disgust.— My power is... I usually explain it like a wolf in sheep's clothing. It's in my blood, saliva, in my tears, etc. It needs to get into the person's system in order to control their nerves. However, that's not the danger.

She rolls her eyes, taking another drink, longer than the last. — Once it's in the person's system, the person loses their mind from lust, it's a piece of cake to get information. — She whisper, watching him refill her glass in silence.

— Wade wasn't lying when he told you. When they realized that my use was another, they put me as a spy or a mere distraction.

There's a resignation in her tone, which makes him tilt his head, remembering the mercenary's words about how Vanessa and she seemed to have a pretty close relationship. And yet, a look of disgust crosses his face at the idea that she had dedicated herself to espionage.

— Did you join the X-Men?

He ask, there is a slight accusation in his voice, and is huskier than usual, however, she raised her eyebrows, letting herself lean on the back of the chair. — Do you think they would have accepted me?

She smirks mockingly, staring at her empty glass while her hand rests on her chin. — It was a one night stand and I almost die.

Her discomfort in talking about it makes it clear that it's about him, or rather the other Logan. However, the mention of his near death makes Logan look at her, catching longing on her face.

— I had started to rebel after the last missions, well. — She stops, with a sneer on her face. — To be fair, since they had ordered me to spy. They sent me on a suicide mission to test your limits, not even getting information out of you, there was nothing that could interest them beyond whether you could be incapacitated. If you could be, it would mean that we could keep Wade under control. But Ajax had been ordered to kill him.

Wade's words make sense and Logan's gaze darkens. — You...?

He is immediately interrupted by the her expression, his nose catching her scent as she downplays the matter with a gesture of her hand. — At all costs. —

— You didn't want to.

— No one did.

[bewiiitched]

Sex doll (Logan Howlett x reader)

Ever since I saw the movie I haven't been able to shake my obsession with Wolverine, and I got this idea after reading several fanfics on a03 that are unfortunately on hiatus.

Summary: Wade and Reader have a past thanks to the Weapon X project, after escaping from there, she becomes his neighbor, being able to know peace until she runs into Logan and brings back memories of her original version.

Disclaimer: English is not my native language, I apologize if there are any mistakes.

Warnings: This is a +18 fanfic, it includes several dark themes such as rape, drug use, and more adult content.

Oral sex (both receive) P in V, chocking, rough sex, dom!logan, soft!Wade (mostly), friend!Wade, ass play, a lot of angst, age gap (reader is mid 20's)

/////

INTRO:

It was midnight when they both returned covered in sweat and blood to the apartment and after several attempts to convince Logan to stay, he had finally decided to spend a few days in the building until he could adapt.

Living one floor below the apartment she shared with the blind Al, Reader rarely missed any of the discussions that undoubtedly arose because of the mercenary and yet, even if her senses were not enhanced, she doubted that she could pass for his familiar voice that had so exasperated her superiors in the past.

Turning off the tap suddenly and leaving the dishes half-cleaned, she almost lunged towards the door, throwing it open with an accusatory look as she watched the red silhouette of his suit disappear down the hall towards the stairs. — WADE WILSON.

She exclaimed, making the mercenary freeze with an innocent smile and his hands raised in a placating gesture as he turned towards her. — Doll-

He began only to abruptly shut up, noticing the shocked look on her face as her gaze passed between them in a range of emotions.

— What the hell? — In contrast to the mercenary's wide smile, who moved his non-existant eyebrows in a suggestive gesture, reader's gaze darkened as she looked at Wolverine for a moment, causing him to frown in confusion and perceiving a strong scent of regret.

Determined to lighten the tension, Wade turned his face slightly towards Logan in a gesture of recognition.

— It's not the original. — He clarified, earning a raised eyebrow from both of them, which didn't affect him too much as he continued with his tirade of explanations. — Logan, this is Reader, a mutant with sadomasochistic powers who had an affair with your version of this world.

— I should have accepted that mission just to not hear you anymore…

The aforementioned hissed, glaring at him and avoiding the older mutant's scrutinizing gaze. Ignoring the mercenary's feigned expression of pain as he held his hand over his chest in an offended gesture, she leaned against the wall with her arms crossed.

— Doll, this is one of Logan's versions, darker, more broken, surely your type, oh god! You would have loved Calverine.

He spoke, clasping his hands over his chest in an enthusiastic gesture. With a snort, she turned around avoiding looking at the mutant behind the mercenary and determined to return to her apartment. — I don't think there's much of your stuff in the apartment, Al said something about taking advantage of the space now that you were gone.

She mocked, listening to his muffled gasp before closing the door with a shaky sigh.

(…)

— What the hell was that?

Logan's dry tone makes Wade laugh, now that they are at a safe distance from her enhanced hearing, the mercenary has no intention of letting the opportunity to mock her pass by.

— the what? The devilishly sexy neighbor downstairs with a destructive past who has her eye on you? You know, if you had the mask on I wouldn't doubt that-

— Christ, shut up. Why does she stink of guilt?

Wade smirks as he takes a step back dramatically. — When I joined the weapon X she was already there, working for the project's superiors along with poor Francis, together they were terror personified.

The nuance in his tone changes and his voice gains lightness as he thinks of those days when his powers were put to the test. — She can control the nervous system of people, animals and mutants. and, you know, make you feel a new world of pain. Oh and something about aphrodisiac fluids!

He speaks, winking before continuing: — The thing is that at some point Francis gained more importance, of course, not having nerves to control helped and she was left in the background and under his surveillance doing minor missions.

There's a look of understanding on Logan's face as his brain tries to process the information he's received and the words "sado-masochistic powers, and adventure" echo in his mind, raising more questions.

"That doesn't explain…"

He begins, frowning at the mercenary's suggestive expression. "Forget it."

He growled, wrinkling his nose as if he could still smell her scent full of guilt and shame.

(…)

Despite the initial shock, Reader had adapted to the mutant's presence quite easily, as she had occasionally crossed paths with him in the hallways of the building without sharing more than a few words. Which was fine with her, since she had no intention of crossing the cordial barrier either.

However, Wade Wilson had decided that it was a personal offense not to attend his resurrection dinner after having saved the world as the Marvel Jesus, so it was not until said party ended that the mercenary entered her apartment.

Rising from the bed abruptly when her ear caught a second beat, she wasted no time in grabbing the lamp that rested on the nightstand and throwing it in the direction of the mutant who grabbed it before it could break.

“That's no way to receive guests.” He scolded, dropping the lamp on the bed and turning on the light, letting both hands rest on his hips. “Traitorous bitch.”

He grumbled, watching as reader looked at him impassively. “Cry me a river.”

— You can't avoid it forever. Avoid me.

He emphasizes, smiling sideways when she rolls her eyes in his direction. — No one can avoid you.

She murmurs resignedly, getting out of bed now that the discomfort returns to her. — Look, I'll go to the next dinner…

— Tomorrow.

— What? No.

— Tomorrow, or I'll drag you out. Come on, we'll only be a few people.

— How are things with Vanessa?

The mercenary's menacing smile trembles and disappears with a withering look. — That, that was a low blow.

He reprimands her with the same tone he would use to reprimand a small child, earning a disdainful smile. — Looks like the two of us can't avoid it forever, huh.