boltwrites

[boltwrites]

Hello, could you possibly make a Desna (from tlok) NSFW alphabet?

hi, i don't take requests for legend of korra right now, i have never written for desna, and i don't do nsfw alphabets, so i'll be denying this.

[boltwrites]

i think it’s so funny whenever one of my old fandoms comes back around and things i wrote several years ago start getting notes again

anyway hi arcane fandom how are you

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Taking my mom out to see dp3 and I got to see her reaction to dp2 in real time. As someone who has had dp2 running in the background of my mind since the moment I saw it (like last month) it was like seeing a child’s first Christmas 🥹🥹

I’m nervous to see her reaction to Deadpool and Logan fucking in that Honda Odyssey…

-> 🧚🏻

DUDE i almost went to see dp3 with my mom bc my best friend is like ALWAYS working, but thankfully i got to see it with my buddy instead lmao. i say thankfully just bc i know she would have never seen it without me and she really enjoyed herself.

also honda odyssey scene my beloved…

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I did just finish all the live action movies last night and the timeline since future past has been messing with me… which is why I hate time traveling movies 😩

I did just download all the X-men 97 episodes so that’s next after I emotionally recover from Logan

-> 🧚🏻

97 really just drops you in the middle of shit so don’t expect any reprieve from comic book weird lmao. but the art style is pretty and it’s really entertaining!

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Logan asker again, (I think I used to be 🧚🏻) ong first class was so boring and while I have never thought of Cherik I see it now lol

oh man, old anon tags! i remember you lol

yeah cherik is canon in my heart. two old dudes that used to be friends and are now enemies but also still refuse to kill each other? gay.

also once you finish the live action rewatch i do recommend x men 97. god those animated bitches are MESSY

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Just watched Logan for the first time (actually just watched all the XMen movies for the first time) and fuck my heart right- Charles’ funeral scene got me and Logan’s death scene got me worse- especially that damn “so this is what it feels like” they might as well have buried me next to him ☹️

dude i’ve only seen like the ending part of logan bc i walked into the living room at the wrong time LMAO. i can’t watch sad movies, shit gets me too upset. and logan was fucking brutal. god.

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my buddy watching x men 97: jean is having a baby!

me: CABLE??? but no, that would have to be a clone of jean. is she actually a clone of jean?

friend: well, no, but- oh my god. oh my god she’s a clone.

me: CABLE!!!!!!!!!!!!

[boltwrites]

Perseverance

Fandom: Marvel; X-Men Pairing: Logan Howlett/Wolverine / Original Character, Logan Howlett/Wolverine / Reader Rating: T (for now) Tags: AFAB!Fem!OC/Reader, Mutant!OC/Reader, Enemies to Lovers, Third Person POV

Summary: Persy hated Logan. Hated his fucking guts for taking her spot on the team. Hated him for fucking up her perfectly good life.

Too bad the man was unkillable.

A/N: I originally wrote this as a reader-insert, but the character kind of birthed herself when I was trying to write a fic where reader honest-to-god hates Logan and it's not just an immediate ploy for a sex scene. Features a fem mutant OC whose mutation is that she has enhanced endurance. Sorry if that ends up being way too similar to any other character - I was trying to build off the idea that humans are such good predators because they have such fantastic endurance.

AO3

Persy absolutely, unequivocally despised Logan fucking Howlett.

To be honest, it's not like she wanted to hate the man. She didn't want to hate anyone – she had more important shit to do. But Logan? Oh, man. He was a hard fucking man to like, she knew that much.

Before Logan, she was content. Fulfilled, even. She had her place in life, and it was at Xavier's training students - and, most notably, with the X-Men. Whenever a problem arose, whenever Charles needed to send out a full team – there was a specific team he would send. Persy, Scott, Jean, and Storm. It was essential that she was a part of the team – she was their close-combat specialist, after all. Scott had range, Storm could control as crowd as easy as breathing, and Jean was fantastic for any kind of stealth work or trickery. But Persy – Persy was the heavy hitter.

Her mutation, after all, enhanced her endurance. She was just a little faster than others, a bit stronger - but her real talent was that she never quit. Her heart rate never rose, her muscles never ached - so long as she was properly fueled, she just kept going.

Plus, her mutation was perfect for combat. Absolutely perfect, conventionally suited to it. And she loved combat. By nature of her mutation, she loved anything physical - turns out, when someone’s body doesn't ache and their lungs don't burn, things like running, climbing, jumping? They're unbelievably fun. It's why Charles assigned her to most of the students' physical education classes - her positive attitude towards those sorts of things was infectious. While it took her a while to understand that the kids needed breaks (oops), she was knowledgeable, supportive, and she always enjoyed it when her students tried new things. Facilitating hand-to-hand sparring matches, encouraging kids to nag at Charles until he bought equipment for whatever new sport they wanted to try that month – she loved it.

But by far, her favorite physical activity was combat. Persy loved martial arts with her whole heart - she studied multiple, and not just to assist her in her duties as a member of the X-Men. It was because of the artistry, the diversity of it all. Each form she learned was like a dance, and each opponent she fought was a new challenge. She thought it was almost like a puzzle – picking apart the different techniques and moves an opponent fell back on, wearing them down until she could predict their next movements and finally go in for the kill. It meant that despite her enhanced longevity in the ring, she still had to put all her effort into her fight. She had enhanced endurance, not enhanced healing capabilities. While her muscles were able to accommodate the massive strain she put on them, her heart and lungs were inhumanly strong and infallible – a swift punch to the nose could still break it. It wasn't like distance running, or biking, or even some team sports, where she always felt that she carried the rest of her squad on her back - this was a challenge, for her.

Which is why Logan pissed Persy off, when he took her spot on the team. Why she gnashed her teeth and avoided him like a bad smell in the mansion. Because he didn’t just take her spot – he took her fucking livelihood.

But she was getting ahead of herself. That wasn't his first offense. Not even close.

His first offense came with Jean Grey.

"He what?" Persy scoffed, damn near spitting out her sandwich. Jean picked at her salad noncommittally, twirling her fork in the crook of her hand.

"It wasn't anything serious," Jean tried to downplay it, but she was having none of it. "He was just flirting-"

"Just flirting?" Persy raised an eyebrow as if Jean had grown a second head. "Jean - you have a boyfriend. Does he know that? Do you know that?"

"I know, I know," Jean sighed. "That's why I turned him down. It didn't go anywhere."

Jean stabbed at a cherry tomato. Persy didn't believe her.

"But you wanted it to go somewhere."

It wasn't so much a question as it was a statement. She'd never seen Jean so flustered over a man - except for Scott, that was. She'd seen that look on her face when Scott had gifted her something thoughtful, or when he'd told her something especially heartfelt. She still remembered how Jean would blush and hide her face in her hands when Scott would write her sweet notes.

And here she was, cheeks pink over some man that had literally attacked her. He'd been disoriented and scared, of course, and she didn't blame him for lashing out, since he didn't actually hurt Jean - but the fact that she was fluttering her lashes about the whole thing left a bad taste in Persy’s mouth. It was none of her business what happened in her relationship with Scott, but still. Those two had been an item for god knows how long. They worked well together. Jean seemed genuinely happy. And she was gonna - what? Throw it all away for some new guy? What was so great about him?

"He-" Jean chuckled softly, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. "You wouldn't understand..."

"Try me," Persy cut in, doing her best not to frown. It was true - she didn't have much experience in long-term relationships. She wanted something like what Scott and Jean had, but - well. It never really worked out for her.

With men, she was intimidating. Her mutation affected her ability to continue exercising past the point of typical human exertion, but it didn’t stunt her muscle growth. She was – as some of the kids said – jacked. It wasn’t like she had the stature of a bodybuilder – no. She just had broader shoulders from boxing, thicker thighs from Tae Kwon Do, and a firm core from Judo. But she also needed fuel to burn as she exercised, so her muscles were padded – she liked to joke that she looked like a farm boy.

But – men didn’t seem to like that. The vast majority of them just hit on other girls, ignoring her. And that was fine. Honestly, she commended them, for knowing what they were into. The real problem were the ones that saw her as some kind of conquest. A mountain to be climbed, despite the fact that she was of average female height, at 5’3”. No – these men would approach her with a smile – the human ones asking if she worked out, what her routine was, where she hiked. They thought they could somehow take those athletic achievements and overshadow her with their own, fuck her into some lesser version of herself. They were never very satisfied when they failed. And mutant men, well – they always zeroed in on her mutation. Endless endurance was a fantastic mutation for sex, and they always thought that they would be the one to take full advantage of it – that they would have the magical mutation that matched her own, and could finally tire her out. It was idiotic. She could keep going all night, that didn’t mean she wanted to. And most of them weird mediocre in bed at best – with the remaining turning out to be forgettable or downright disappointing.

Persy had better luck with women – thought they were few and far between. And while she didn’t have the same issues with conquest or emasculation, that’s when a more pressing problem reared its ugly head:

She was basically married to her work, at this point. She focused on training the next generation of X-Men and protecting them from harm. That was her calling. Her mutation wasn't good for much else other than running and fighting. This is all Persy could do. And she made it very clear to whoever she took to bed that they would always come second to those kids, that Persy wasn’t going to somehow hang up the suit and settle down. For some reason, even to other mutants, that was a tough sell. Maybe it also had to do with how stubborn Persy was – and how dangerous her job could be. She was always showing up with bumps and bruises and lacerations. At least one girlfriend broke up with her in tears, saying that she wouldn’t be with someone who’d end up killing herself before her thirtieth birthday.

But it still hurt, when Jean brought it up. At least she had the decency to wince, after her reply. She didn't need to read Persy’s mind to know that she'd struck a nerve.

"Sorry," she apologized, sighing. "You're just - incredibly devoted, you know? Steadfast. If you want something, you do it, and if you don't want something, you stay away. I don't think I've ever seen you waver on a decision before."

Persy was a bit shocked at her reply. "What would that have to do with any of this?"

"Because Logan-" Jean sighed, taking a sip of her drink as she sat with her thoughts, collecting them into words. "-he's not a logical choice. He's not even - an option, really. He's a temptation. A desire. I can't act on it - I won't, but..."

Jean trailed off, levitating her fork to pick at her salad as she clutched her drink. Persy stifled a chuckle at the little nervous use of her powers.

"He's an attractive man, you know?"

Persy shrugged. "I still haven't met the guy."

She hadn't, but she doubted he looked that much different than any other man that passed through the mansion. Of course - unless he was green, or orange, or had a tail or something. But she kind of assumed Jean would have mentioned something like that.

And even if he was attractive – so what? Persy had dealt with attractive men before. Hell – there had been more than a few very, very tempting men she’d seen pass through either Xavier’s, or the surrounding bar scene. But the fact of the matter was, Persy managed to lock that temptation away behind a very thick mental lock. She could respect a man’s physique, maybe oogle him a bit for good measure – but she put a stop to that childish bullshit before she reached whatever level Jean had sunk to.

And to top that off – Jean was in a relationship. She wasn’t touch starved like Persy was, wasn’t at least two years out from any meaningful relationship. She had a loving boyfriend – who wasn’t Persy’s type, but was still very conventionally attractive. He was sweet, and kind, and attentive. Persy had no idea why Jean would risk that for some other dude. No matter how hot he was.

"Mm," Jean hummed around a bite of her food. "You'd get it if you saw him. Even Storm thinks he's... cute."

"Cute," Persy scoffed it, stuffing the last of her sandwich into her face. She almost laughed at Jean. Cute. Images of boybands and romantic comedy stars swam in her mind. Men with soft, fluffy hair - sweet little smiles and long eyelashes. Lanky arms, toned with the barest of muscle so that they might be able to hold some petite little thing in their arms, spin her around and dip her into a soft kiss. Gentle romantic gestures and kind words. Kid shit. Persy tried not to smirk at Jean for falling for that bullshit.

She’d be fine.

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CRIMINALLY underrated logan moment: in origins when remy saves him from the falling nuclear reactor and says a whole corny “you miss me?” and logan responds with the most perfectly exasperated, fed-up-with-the-cliche “oh, jesus” you’ve ever heard

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Smoking (cigars) with logan, he goes on about how its bad for your health and you tell him to fuck off lol

probably gonna decline this one just on the basis of the “it’s bad for your health” “fuck off” aspect.

to be clear: i don’t mind writing about logan smoking, or even reader smoking casually. just not anything where reader (or another character without a massive healing factor) would scoff and say they don’t care about the health risks. not to be a fucking geek, but i’ve lived with smokers my entire life. nicotine addiction is serious shit and i’m not interested in writing a character that’s dismissive of it.

this is probably also influenced by severely traumatic shit that happened to me recently, but i don’t think you all would care to hear about that lmao

[boltwrites]

dating the 'worst' wolverine head canons !!

he leaves you for a man

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me last month: oh god the trauma is too much i’ll never feel well enough to be attracted to a man again

me now: hehe haha *playing with logan howlett like he’s a little doll*

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the tags: logan x reader with a bunny mutation! wolverines hunt bunnies, predator and prey, aww-

me: fuck you. reader with a bear mutation. logan tries to top them and they laugh in his fucking face about it.

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Thinking about you and Logan both working at Xavier's and how you'd start to notice all his weird little quirks:

You don't think you've ever seen this man in pants that aren't form-fitting in some way. He's got the black leather for the X-Men suit, bootcut denim for daily wear. And that's all fine and dandy, but one time you snuck downstairs in the middle of the night (stayed up way too late reading a book you got super into) and found him in the kitchen. In jeans. At 2 AM. Did he... sleep in that?

You don't even want to ask about the hair. Scott swears he's seen cans of hairspray in his trash (why were you looking, Scott?) but Rogue is absolutely convinced he just has weird cowlicks. You are undecided.

It's undeniable that Logan actively tries to seem cool, though. You've caught slips in his gruff and sarcastic facade. Namely, the time he was working on fixing Scott's bike, meanwhile humming along to Britney Spears. He definitely didn't think you'd be able to tell through his Walkman, but you'd recognize that melody anywhere.

Oh, and even though he acted like he hated working with the kids? You knew that was a lie too. He wasn't a teacher, per say, but he definitely spent a lot of time helping kids out sparring, or listening to them complain about the other teachers. And you'd caught, on more than one occasion, gifts the kids had given him on his person. There was a bead lizards on his set of keys, and while the bracelets were braided in muted, neutral colors, you recognized the intricate knots of those friendship bracelets. He was a softie.

But by far the strangest was the time he'd missed a meeting and you'd somehow been assigned to drag him out of bed. When he hadn't answered the door, you'd decided to just barge in, irritated at having to wake a grown man in the first place.

But Logan didn't sleep like a normal man, was the thing. Your own standard bed at the mansion came with four pillows, a top sheet, a blanket, and a duvet. Meanwhile Logan's bed looked more like a nest than anything else. There were pillows spilling onto the floor, blankets twisted around each other, at least two comforters - and Logan, curled up in the middle of it all in the smallest ball he could manage, snoring lightly.

[boltwrites]

working on my last request rn so feel free to send in more! i'll probably cap at 5 this time

[boltwrites]

Reader using Logan’s helmet as blowjob handles 😩

posted! decided to make this into a longer thing since we really need more amab!masc!reader in the tags honestly. hop you like it!

[boltwrites]

Rough Handling

Fandom: Marvel; X-Men Pairing: Logan Howlett/Wolverine / Reader (AMAB, masculine) Rating: E Tags: Face-fucking, Blowjobs, Masks

Anon Requested: Reader using Logan’s helmet as blowjob handles 😩

A/N: There is actually a line in here where I could have dropped a perfectly placed, Logan-accurate bub, but didn't out of principle. First person to spot where it goes wins a prize lmao

"You know," you started, gazing down at Logan's discarded cowl as it lay in your lap. "I think Wade had a point."

"About what?" Logan asked, frowning as he tried to scrounge together the rest of his laundry. You'd snatched the cowl up as soon as it had been uncovered in the back of the closet, and you'd pounced on it like some kind of creature. Logan had let you have it, waving you off in favor of actually doing something about the piles of dirty socks around the place.

"These are some pretty hefty blowjob handles," you grinned, sliding your hands over the wing-like portions of the cowl, even twisting your wrist like you were revving up a bike. Logan shot you a deadpan stare, before rolling his eyes and throwing a pair of jeans into the laundry basket.

"Fuck off," he replied, shaking his head as he moved on to the things on your side of the bed. "Not like I designed the thing. Still think Scott had it out for me."

He huffed - it almost sounded like a little growl. You laughed, rolling your eyes at the fact he took this as a jab against his costume, and not the proposition it was.

"I'm not making fun of your outfit, Wolvie," you laughed, shooting him a silly grin as you turned the cowl around, wiggling it as you said his little superhero nickname. "I think we should try it out."

He peeked over the bed, a pair of your underwear in his hand as he shot you a withering glare.

"You're not serious."

"Oh, I'm serious," you insisted, nodding the cowl in your hand. Logan huffed as he turned away, gathering up the last of the laundry and balancing the basket against his hip.

"Well, you look like an idiot," Logan replied. But - importantly - he didn't say no. And he was very upfront with you about shit he didn't want to do, so you were notably intrigued.

"But you would look better with your lips wrapped around me in the cowl..." you teased, an eyebrow raised and a little sly smile on your lips. "I'll even let you fuck me in the suit after."

"Both of those things seem like shit you're into," Logan countered, but you couldn't help noticing how the corner of his lip twitched a little. The little almost-smile. "And there's only half a suit left."

"Oh no, just the mask on while we fuck-" you fanned yourself with the cowl like you were so scandalized. "What a horrible turn off -"

"Shut up." Logan rolled his eyes again, but this time it was with a stupid smirk. "Let me get this load in first. Ah ah-"

You had definitely opened your mouth to comment, but he tilted his head to the side, eyes wide and finger outstretched as he dared you to make a dirty joke. Your lips stayed firmly shut. You were not going to risk face-fucking Logan Howlett over a cheap cum joke. You weren't Wade Wilson.

But you were, however, already half hard at the thought of it. Was the whole thing stupid? Yes, absolutely. But as you undressed so you could make yourself comfortable at the end of the bed, you couldn't help the thrill that rushed through you when you caught a glimpse of the cowl in your periphery. You thought everything about Logan was hot - even the parts that others might thing were scary, or even a little dorky. The claws, the scowls - but also the bright yellow of his suit, the little curly cowlicks in his hair. And, maybe most of all, you liked being a little goofy with Logan. Making him laugh, making him smile. And you knew this was going to be that kind of fuck.

You knew it when he walked in from dealing with the laundry, took one look at you and asked, eyebrow raised. "What, me in just the mask, you in your fucking socks?"

You quelled a snort as you looked down - white nike crew socks still on your feet. You'd gotten so lost in your thought you'd stripped down bare ass naked, dick out, socks still on.

"What, they're not as hot as thigh highs or something?" You laughed back. He grinned in reply as you peeled yourself out of them, sauntering over to inspect the cowl. He shook his head - like he was questioning the life decisions that led him to this moment - before he slid it on.

Oh. Ok. Logan in jeans, a white T-shirt, and the mask? Kind of hot, you weren't gonna lie. Your dick twitched in interest.

"Oh, come on," Logan snorted, unable to contain himself. "Really?"

"Honestly, I think you've given me some kind of complex," you tried to defend yourself. "Remember the time you wore that yellow shirt to the bar-"

"Mhm, vividly," Logan hummed it low, smirking as he looked you up and down. You couldn't help the bob of your adam's apple as you swallowed, the way your dick plumped up between your legs, at full attention now. That's just what this man did to you, really.

Your full attention was on him now, as he sank to his knees in front of you casually, sliding his hands up your thighs so he could spread them. Your gaze lingered on those hot hands, and-

"Oh, don't even think about it."

You snorted, because he'd clocked you fantasizing about his claws dead-on.

"Hey, a man can dream," you chuckled, breathless as Logan repositioned himself between his legs so that now the scruff on his jaw could scrape along the inside of your thighs. So close, but so far.

You were pretty sure Logan rolled his eyes, but you couldn't tell because of the mask - oh man. You reached out, half believing that he'd slap your hands away, before you wrapped them around the curved bits - the blowjob handles. He was - wow. He was really letting you do this.

And he was into it - he just didn't project it like you did. Or, maybe it was more accurate that he was into you. As you were distracted with his cowl, he'd started to press kisses to your thigh, sinking down lower in his stands as his breath ghosted over your dick.

Most of the time when he did this for you, he was in control. He'd hold your hips down and take you into his mouth at his own pace, smirking when you whimpered at how much attention he paid to the tip, or when you whined at how long he licked you up and down instead of just sucking your cock already.

But like this - like this, you could gain some of that control back. Logan nuzzles into the seam between your thigh and dick, licked a long, wet stripe from base to tip - and then you applied just the smallest bit of pressure to the handles on his mask, and Logan made a little shocked noise in the back of his throat, stilling in his tracks as he tilted his head to look at you.

"Oh no. None of that this time," you insisted, grinning as you adjusted your grip on his cowl. "Come on. Let me fuck your face."

Without being able to look at his eyes, Logan's expression was unreadable. This wasn't something you did with him often - and for a split second you wondered if you'd taken this whole joke too far.

That was, until Logan's lips parted. Just barely, at first, before he opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out like you'd done so many times before for him. But oh - he rolled his jaw as he opened wide, squared his shoulders. This wasn't just an invitation. It was a challenge.

You removed a hand from the mask, if only to angle your dick to Logan's mouth, bouncing off his tongue with a little hitch of your breath before you rolled your hips, lips wrapping around you as the both of you found your places. It took you another breath to center yourself, to wrap your hands tight around that mask.

The first roll of your hips was experimental, slow and steady as you bit your lip, learned to tilt down Logan's head just a bit as you guided him with the cowl. He made a low noise in his throat - approval? A moan? you didn't know. You did know that he slid his tongue along your shaft like he knew you went crazy for, and you gasped at the feeling of it, his thumbs drawing circles on your inner thighs only serving to distract you further.

You built up a rhythm - hips rocking faster, deeper into his mouth, but never quite hitting the back of his throat. Logan took you with no complaints, head bobbing in time with how you dragged him along your cock by his mask, trying your best to keep your breathing steady, to make all this last.

But, try as you might, there was still something missing. You couldn't fuck his throat deep, not as hard as you wanted to, and his hands on your thighs were distracting enough that you wished you'd invested in some adamantine sex cuffs. You needed more control.

So, you took it. You stilled your hands, your hips, and then you stood. You didn't bother telling Logan what you were about to do - you didn't need to. After all, you were the one guiding him this time. And you did it well - hands on his mask firm enough to help guide him as you stood, letting him shift his weight and steady himself with a hand against your knee. You moaned at the new angle - it was so much easier to thrust into him like this, and you knew that with the advantage of forward momentum, you could fuck his throat raw.

"Oh, yeah-" you breathed out, as Logan swallowed roughly around you - it was clear he understood the implications of the new angle too, bracing himself with a wider stance, knees further apart, hands tracing your hips more as a way to keep himself steady than to quell your thrusts. And when he looked up at you - well, obviously, the mask was in the way. But just the fact that he bothered to try to meet your eyes had you smirking.

"Ready?" you asked him, your voice almost teasing. The low grumble he replied with reverberated all along your dick, and you shivered at the feeling. Oh, he was ready.

So, you gave him what you promised. Tilted his head back just slightly, and with your fingers wound tight around that mask, you speared his mouth on your cock, his throat squeezing around your tip as you cried out, grinding deeper into that heat before you pistoned your hips out. You yanked him forward by that cowl, then back off with your hips - and despite the wet choking noises he made, Logan only urged you to fuck him more - harder, faster. His hands wrapped around your ass, squeezing tight, willing your hips back into the vice of his throat, like you could somehow force your way even deeper.

It had you crying out, nails catching at the feeling of that mask, your pace stuttering the closer you got, thighs shaking as you rammed the back of Logan's throat again and again, just to feel how tight he squeezed your cock. Between thrusts you could see how it affected him, too - how he'd sunk low in his stance, no longer able to kneel upright with how hard you were fucking his face. His shoulders were slumped, one of his hands now cupped against the bulge in his jeans - how hard he was from you ruining his throat.

And that was it - the image of him hard because of this, pliant and desperate and blissed because of how you thrust ragged into his mouth. That's what finally sent you over the edge, burying Logan's nose into curls at your base as you cried out his name, his throat convulsing around you as he struggled to take all you gave him.

Your knees damn near gave out afterwards, shaky as you released your vice grip on Logan's mask, pulling out of his mouth with a groan. You'd left a mess at the corner of his mouth, over his lips - it almost made you twitch to life again, with how good he looked.

Maybe Wade did have good ideas sometimes.