drinksondaph

[drinksondaph]

Not a request but I just wanted to tell you I LOVE your writing girl pls don't die😔❤️❤️❤️

Stawpppp this is the sweetest thing ever I love you I'll try not to 🥹🥹🥹

[drinksondaph]

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐂𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒ೃ࿐

ೃ࿐𝗥𝗔𝗙𝗘 𝗖𝗔𝗠𝗘𝗥𝗢𝗡 𝗫 𝗞𝗢𝗢𝗞!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: reader is kind of weird, mention of butts, random sexual turn, blow job, dirty talk, pet names 18+ mdni

It was mid July and the cold air of Tannyhill caused the blonde to sigh in relief for he had escaped the hot air and humidity that he had to deal with the entire day

Rafe kicked off the heavy boots that he adorned before grabbing a glass of freshly squeezed lemonade from the fridge and made his way upstairs

The instrumentals of Brahms filled his ears as he pushed open the slightly cracked door of his bedroom, that's when he was met with the sight of you, cris cross at the vanity he built you which had the both of your names engraved onto the leg

The desk was littered with all sorts of makeup and fragrances that Rafe had bought you, one expensive thing cluttering over the next

Your brows were furrowed and your tongue slightly stuck out of your lips as you focused on combing the knots out of your hair, this caused you to miss the way Rafe snuck up behind you and laid his semi cold finger tips on your shoulder

“Holy fucking shit!” You slightly jumped, now seeing your boyfriend in the mirror, moving to turn your music down

“You have these damn violins and shit so fuckin loud” he kissed your forehead, making sure not to get in the way of the consecutive stokes through your hair

“You know classical helps me focus” you pouted, having a precise and strict hair routine is no joke, you can't walk around these streets looking any type of way, especially cause girl after girl tries to weasel their way towards Rafe, but he always made it known that he was yours

“I just don't see the appeal of dead old guys playing a bunch of instruments” he ran hand through his own hair, just for the same blonde pieces to fall right back in his face

“They don't play, they just composed it duh” you rolled your eyes, drenching your hair in even more water with your endless spray bottle

“Same difference” Rafe pulled you back by your cheeks, placing multiple pecks on your puckered lips

“Shut up before I put my finger in your butt”

This caused rafe to abruptly stop his movements, an overly offended look painted his face, “excuse me? How old are you?”

“Kind of late to be asking me that now buddy” you playfully stuck your tongue out him, the narrowing of his eyes indicating that his patience was wearing thin, oh how you loved to grind his gears

You watched as he took a seat at the edge of your bed, “You're a sick person, you know that?”

“That makes two of us baby cakes” you got up from your seat at the vanity, straddling his lap as your knees dug into the fur of your pink throw blanket

He captured your lips in a kiss, your eyes fluttering shut as his tongue slipped past your parted lips, he suddenly moves to bites your neck, gently biting and sucking on the skin, his hands now moving higher underneath the fabric of your dress, gently caressing the sensitive skin of your thighs, “this dress is so cute baby”

You could feel him grin against your neck as you let out a moan, “Thank you babe”

His hands move closer to your core, his thumb began circling your clit through your wet panties, wanting to hear you moan more for him

You put your hands on his shoulders pushing him back, “yeah buddy you're done”

at this point he can’t help but lean back a little to look at your face again You looked so perfect flushed, struggling to keep yourself together, he grabbed your jaw bringing your face to his lips again causing you to whine “stop itttt”

He mumbles against your cheek as he mocks you “you stop itttt”

You push yourself up, now just sitting on his waist as a slight pout painted your face “You're trying to be nasty but I need to get ready”

He rolls his eyes, hands still sneakily trying to creep around the hem of your dress as he rasps, “babe cmon, you look perfect already, jus give me some lovin'”

Damnit. The rasp of his voice and the lingering touches that inched up on your thigh had you folding. You pull him into a deep kiss, interlocking your lips with his

He gently bites your bottom lip, signaling for you to part them as he let his tongue slip into your mouth, once you do, he slides it inside, tasting every part of your mouth and grazing your tongue with his own

You tug at his belt, removing it as he lifts his hips to slip his pants down to his ankles, still mumbling against his lips “Gotta make you nut now”

Rafe couldn't help but let out a laugh, the way you acted when you were needy was a whole different animal, one of Rafes favorite versions of you, he wouldn't say that straight up though

“Yeah baby?” He smirked as you lowered yourself on his lap so you were face to face with his crotch, the hardness poking out through his boxers

You nodded and pushed his shirt up, kissing around his torso, encouraging him to grow harder, “Then go ahead and take care of me..."

You pulled his dick from his boxers, his tip leaking and practically yelling at you to relieve its aching appearance “wan' make you feel good”

You could feel his intense eyes on you before you took him in your mouth almost savoring the taste of his precum that leaked from his tip

He gripped onto your hair as you began to bob your head up and down his dick, tracing the throbbing veins with your tongue, the effort put into your hair routine completely forgotten as he started to rasp, “fuck baby, like this mouth was made just to make me feel good”

You hummed around him causing his whole body to vibrate, he continued to control your movements, spit pouring past your lips as you sucked sloppier, your eyes tearing up each time he drove himself deeper into your throat, “should shove this dick down your throat to shut you up yeah? Fuck it so hard til you can't speak”

Rafe groans, his breath speeding up as his heart races against his ribcage. His eyes squeeze closed and he lets out a moan, “gonna make you crave this shit 24/7 honey...mhm”

Wetness pooled your panties as you brought your hand up to the base of his shaft, beginning to stroke the length that you hadn't swallowed

Moans and curses of your name falls from rafes lips as he coaxed you, “My pretty girl, getting that mouth worn out, hm? Such a sweet slut for me”

The sound of your gags filled the room as you tried to take more of him, wanting to make him proud, knowing you succeeded as he groans and gasps for air, his body trembling as you flatten your tongue to take him even deeper

“Shittttt m'gonna nut baby tell me where you want it” you popped off his dick before you started to speed up the motion on his tip, jerking him as his breathing sped up and his abdomen tensed

“Wan you to shoot it all over my face baby, please, want to feel it all over me” now in retrospect it was a bad idea, having your makeup done and all, but your mascara was already kind of smudged so fuck it

This sent Rafe over the edge, overwhelmed by the pleasure you're giving him, his grip gets a little tighter on your hair, and he can hardly speak to tell you that he's reached his peak “ Take that fuckin load all over your pretty face baby, s-shit”

His warm load landed on your face, some on your lips, forehead and cheeks as shocks ran through his body and he jolted in pleasure before breathing heavy, attempting to calm his heart rate

He rested his tip on your lips, spreading the cum around urging you to lick it off, swiping over his tip in the process

You came back face to face with him as a smug look rested on his face “Mmm so damn pretty like this”

He referred to the remaining cum that occupied you face, causing you to roll your eyes “you're sick”

He laughs and gets up, making his way to the bathroom just to come back with a warm cloth, he started to wipe at your face, cleaning you up, “Should really let you go outside like this” he mumbled

You shook your head,brain too jumbled to make a smart remark

“Jus kidding baby, that's for me to see only” Rafe brings his face down to yours, kissing you passionately and pulling you close with his other hand

“Love you”

“Love you more baby cakes”

[drinksondaph]

Spider-Man 3 (2007) dir. Sam Raimi

[drinksondaph]

#Happy Labor Day to Shrek I guess

[drinksondaph]

.ೃ࿐𝐖𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞 » S.H

.ೃ࿐ PAIRING– Steve Harrington X fem!reader

.ೃ࿐WARNINGS– enemies to “lovers”, name calling, slight degradation, choking, finger stuff, nicknames, sexual acts in a public setting, sweaty men mention 18+

.ೃ࿐A/N – uhmmmmm first writing on this account, I've written on here before but wanted to start something new, request if you would like, I'm in a writing mood anddd lmk who else I should write for. Enjoyyyyyy mwah.

Steve Harrington is a pain in the ass

For 1,248 days he has done nothing but torment you, say slick shit behind your back, to your face, and on your fucking locker, how childish!

But for 1,248 days you've done nothing but fight back, called his phone and told him he won a life supply of Farrah Faucet spray (which he didn't) and you dropped off an empty pizza box to his house. Two ways to break a mans heart.

You hated Steve and Steve hated you that as that. It will always be that. Right?

There were twenty minutes until the last basketball game of the season, the last basketball game of Steve's entire high school career before he went off and graduated, doing who knows what after. He was gonna miss his friends, his status, how your legs looked in those knee high socks you always wore—Steve shook his head, fuck, he couldn't go in the game with a hard-on, he splashed cold water on his face, trying to remove the thought of you, you you you

You groaned as Nancy dragged you into the gym—hundreds of your peers crowding the bleachers, she continued to tug on your arm despite your protest, “Nancy, this is so fucking stupid, I don't want to see a bunch of guys running and sweating everywhere” you whined

Nancy gasped, “Are you insane?! Who doesn't want to see sweaty guys running around” she giggled and finally she pulled you into a seat

You can't believe you were here, you don't do basketball games you don't do school sports, especially if those sports consist of a big haired boy with an inflating ego

Just as the game was gonna start there was a commotion behind you, six smaller heads rushing into the seat, Nancy turned around to see her brother and his friends sitting content on the wooden bleachers “Mike! What the hell are you doing here?”

The boy in question scoffed, rolling his eyes, “We came to watch the game Nancy, don't flatter yourself”

You muffled your laughs with your hand as the siblings continued to squabble but soon after an obnoxious buzz interrupted the moment and Hawkins High's very own basketball team ran out to the court

Sighing, you prepared to be in your own personal hell for the next two hours

...

The game got fairly interesting, score coming down to 12-10 by the second quarter. You've made eye contact with Steve a few times each time ending with a sneer, you were mad, mad at yourself for eying Steve's arms as they flexed, the sweat on his skin shining under the reflection of the gym lights

The buzzer did what it does best and buzzed, signaling half time, you rolled your eyes and tapped on Nancy's shoulder, “Hey, I'm gonna go use the bathroom”

she nodded at you, giving you a thumbs up before you slipped out the bleachers, various bodies crowding the hallway, you just made your way to the restroom when you saw a big line forming out the door and along the bricked walls a sigh rolled through your lips before you eyed your surroundings until you you spotted the staff bathroom

scanning your eyes through the crowd, you slipped into the secluded restroom, quickly hopping from foot to foot until you reached the stall, you actually had to piss really bad and you wanted to grab a snack

quickly pulling down your skirt as you hovered over the toilet, finally getting the relief you needed, better than a fucking orgasm

Suddenly the bathroom handle started to jerk, nearly making you fall into the the toilet. Nervously you looked around realizing an actual staff member could come in, there was one stall. You were Fucked.

instinctively you deepened your voice, calling out “Uhm, occupied!”

that's when you heard a deep chuckle that came from a man causing you to panic a bit more—you yanked the skirt back over your hips, was your adult voice slightly convincing? Hell no

You decided to peek through the crack, trying to see how bad the damage would be when you glimpsed at a pair of slender legs clad in miniscule shorts, the ones the basketball team wore, you rolled your eyes realizing who the legs belonged to, “Fuckin' hell, Steven”

you let out a sigh, one you didn't know you've been holding in, you nimbly unlatched the stall lock, not paying attention to the smug boy who pushed himself off the wall, following you to the sink

“I'm honored you recognize me so easily sweetheart, truly”

You scoffed at his faux sincerity “Yeah well, your smell was telltale sign”

“I smell wonderous, thank you very much” Harrington bought his hand up to his chest faking offense once again

“Why the fuck are you here!?” your eyebrows furrowed as you glanced at him through the mirror

Truth be told he didn't know why he was here. He may or may not have seen you slip into the bathroom over the crowd, he can accidentally always notice when you would walk into, and out of a room, even if it was filled with tons of people

“The real question is what are you doing here?” he crossed his arms, leaning on the sink next to you, watching the warm water cascade through your fingers

“I was obviously taking a piss before you came prancing in here with t-those, booty shorts!”

Steve practically shrieked an amused, yet bewildered look on his face as he stared a you “you wish I was in booty shorts!”

you scoffed, the rough paper towel scratching at your hand as you murmured “slut”

Steve audibly gasped—the nerve of you

“you're one to talk”

“I know you're not calling me a slut–spell it!”

You don't know how but suddenly Steve's chest was pressed against yours as your back was pushed into the sink, the both of your breathing got heavier as his brown eyes gazed into yours

That's when he attached his lips to yours and brought you into a heated kiss, his tongue slipping through the small opening of your lips causing you to snap back into reality and push at Steve's chest

“You're a fucking asshole”

He pulled you to his lips again, his hold on your jaw never faltering, his tongue swiped at your bottom lip, collecting the remainder of your chapstick from the plump skin, right before he pulled away, “Don't think I never notice the way you check me out huh?”

His voice, laced in lust, causing you to squeeze your thighs together, attempting to relive the ache between your legs “you're delusional”

Steve brought his hand up to your neck, you attempted to keep an unfaltering composure as he applied slight pressure, but your eyes betrayed you as they began to roll back

He let out a light chuckle “So if I were to reach into your panties right now, you wouldn't be soaking wet?”

You frantically shook your head, not trusting yourself to utter a single word

Steve lifted your skirt and flowingly slipped two fingers into your undergarments, swiping through your folds and collecting your wetness in the process

Fuck you bitch you mentally spoke to your pussy

The pads of his fingers began to circle your clit and his grip on your neck got tighter, the sound of your slick and moans caused Steve's dick to stir in his pants

“You know you never were a good liar sweetheart” he rasped into your ear, pushing his middle finger inside of you while his thumb continued to rub circles on your bud

“M-more, please Steve I need more” your legs started to grow weak as his fingers reached deep parts of you that you've never even touched before

He easily slipped his pointer in next and began to make rapid movements in your pussy

“ Yeah? And you called me the slut earlier, yet look at you,” The sensation he caused in between your legs and the pressure he applied to your throat made you dizzy “Tell me who the real slut is baby, hmm?”

Your wetness coated your thighs as you felt Steve's hard on nudge your leg, you wish you were able to focus so you could pull it out right then and there and have his cum coat multiple parts of your body

“Fuck! I'm the slut baby, I'm the slut”

Damn it.

A smug look danced on his face as your low eyes bet his “Atta girl, I bet that's what the school would think too if they knew you were begging for little ole me”

Steve curled his fingers inside you and sped the movement on your clit up, the knot in your stomach tightened as he continued to whisper dirty words in your ear

“Yeah baby cum alll on my fingers, there you go”

“I can cum from just hearing your sweet sounds”

“You feel what you do to me?”

“Let everyone who's slut you are, go ahead”

“Fuck Steve, I'm cumming” your tongue started to go numb as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your pussy clenched around his fingers causing his movements to still

You snapped back to reality, your breathing heavy as Steve removed his fingers from you, you feeling significantly empty compared to when he was deep inside you, you watched as he licked his fingers clean of your wetness, a moan leaving his lips as he sucked on the tips of his fingers

“Wow”

You rolled your eyes straightening your skirt as you tried to steady yourself on your feet, still trying to catch your breath, you ignored Steve's eyes on you

“Knew some day I'd have begging for me sweetheart”

You huffed, “Don't you have a game to get to Steven?”

Steve's eyes widen as he stood up straight “Oh shit!”

[drinksondaph]

Hannibal (2013-2015) Deadpool & Wolverine (2024)

[drinksondaph]

[drinksondaph]

— honey, honey

[part ii of sugar, sugar] | [masterlist]

wolverine/logan howlett x neighbor!f!reader

rated e - 5.2k

tags: asshole friend!wade, (sorta soft) roommate!logan, baker!neighbor!reader, flirting, mutual yearning, miscommunication, immature humor, wingman!wade, light angst, oral sex, spitting, fingering, unprotected PiV, begging, floor sex

Even after you wake up alone, and almost late for work, it doesn’t deter your interest in your neighbor - especially after the night you shared.

(Or - a miscommunication, and the following through of two late-night promises.)

You awake to the blare of Dolly Parton's '9 to 5'. 

A time you wish your work schedule followed. Groggy with sleep as you reach for your phone, hitting snooze on your way-the-fuck-too-early alarm. 

Collapsing back on your pillows, as the night before comes rushing back to you.

The party. Meeting Logan. Coming back to your apartment after. 

An ache between your thighs that you definitely didn't have the morning before. Sitting up with a start, heart racing as your hand stretches out on the right side of the bed.

The sheets are cool, in-between the deep rips in the fabric.

You don't remember him leaving.

Had drifted off with an arm slung around your waist, one of the hardest sleeps of your life. Something inside you twists, leaving behind the sharp tang of disappointment. 

It's not unusual, you suppose. You'd had your fair share of fuck-and-go's, and had even committed a few yourselves. But you thought last night had felt different.

There had been a connection, you were sure of it. The way he had touched you, kissed you- 

You had just hoped...

The snoozed alarm goes off, and you catch the time. Forty-five minutes before than your usual alarm - the numbers shocking you into action. 

Set earlier to accommodate a last minute change for a wedding - all of the cupcakes needing to be repackaged before the mother of the bride came at seven. 

And you had volunteered, do-gooder that you were.

"Shit!” You hiss, scrambling out of bed. A whirlwind as you throw clothes on, banging into the bathroom to get ready.

Still muttering as you blow through the kitchen, snatching up your bag and keys. 

"Why the fuck did I do that?" You grouse to yourself, skipping your usual morning coffee - you'll have to grab it on the way, "God, I'm fucking dumb, I always regret it."

The door slams behind you - as you rush down the steps, and out into the streets.

His claws unsheath with the bang of the door. Awakened from a dead sleep, his heartbeat jolting as he's thrown back into another life, in another world. 

It takes him a full minute to come back down. His surroundings unfamiliar, the room still bathed in darkness. 

A groan, when he remembers. The claws slipping back beneath, a sharp twinge as his skin knits back together. 

It's too early for the late night he shared with you. Should have thought about you working in the morning, might have held back from the extra round the night before. 

Had meant to wake up before you, slip back into bed as you dozed. You had dropped off in his arms the night before, lulled to sleep after he had coaxed two more orgasms from you, with the slow pump of his hips and circle of his fingers. 

Dragging himself out to the couch once your breathing had gone steady. Tugging the homemade afghan off a nearby armchair, wrapping it around him as his eyes fixed on the door. Keeping watch, as he did next door.

Lulled to sleep, thinking about you. His eyes flutter shut for a moment now, the slightest pull of his lips at the memory. 

Flinching again, when you barrel out of the bathroom. The light makes him squint - you haven’t seen him yet, as he pushes himself up on an elbow. Your name soft hush on his lips, until he hears your angry muttering. 

"Why the fuck did I do that?"

"God I'm fucking dumb, I always regret it."

Your tone laced with anger, woven in with the sharp tang of remorse. 

The realization is a douse of ice-cold water, rising away the last dregs of sleep. Leaving him staring at the door as you yank it shut behind you. 

Scowling, as he pushes himself up. 

Nearly ripping the denim as he tugs his jeans back on. Finding his white tank and discarded flannel in your room, right where he had stripped them off the night before.

His jaw works, replaying your words.

He should have known. Shouldn’t have listened to Wade. Shouldn’t have listened to you. Shouldn’t have let himself hope. 

And for the second time, your door slams shut. 

You think about Logan all morning, even as you put out fires at work. 

The boxes exchanged - two-hundred and fifty rustic, individual cardboard carriers exchanged for sleek and shiny white ones, tied with a bow. The memory that runs through your mind even staves off your irritation at the last-minute work, a peppy smile and wave as you hand the boxes off. 

The 'tied-up-in-knots' is a feeling that echoes in your belly. Your fondness for Wade is starting to come back, after the way you were ready to write him off for that absolute debacle of an introduction. 

You'd been expecting something a little more... natural. Normal. A "hey, have you met my neighbor?" not one of the most embarrassing things you've had to live through with a near-stranger. 

Maybe you should have known better.

But with the way the night ended, you can't bring yourself to be mad. Letting yourself get distracted as you replay the night, again - almost grabbing the wrong tube of icing as your mind wanders back.

Not only thinking about the way he felt - those wandering hands and how perfectly he fit inside you, how he had completely fucked your brains out - but him as well. 

The conversations. The tiny crack you had made in his armor, the way he had shown you his claws. The drift of his fingers against your skin, when he had asked why you had gone to Wade. 

You’re thankful you’re working in the back today, with the way your skin heats from chest to ears. Quiet mutterings to get it to together. 

And as the afternoon finally starts to lull, you find yourself gathering ingredients.

It wouldn't take long to make something small. The recipe is one you know by heart. 

Maybe you can drop it off tonight. Maybe it will erase whatever you did to drive him from your bed and back to his apartment in the middle of the night. Maybe it will be a nice way to let him know you’re thinking of him.

Vanilla, flour, powdered sugar. Fresh, sliced strawberries.

Maybe you have it bad. 

The box is tucked under your arm when you knock on Wade’s door. It’s still early in the afternoon - the hallways bright, traffic buzzing outside.

You fidget with the strap of your dress - something breezy, but still a little cute. An attempt to look like you have it together with looking like you tried too hard - something easier said than done.

There’s a fluttering twitch behind your ribs when the door opens. That curl of hope squashed when it’s not Logan that answers, but Wade.

You’re quick to fix your expression, offering him a smile, “Morning! Late night?”

“Is it a late night if it’s still going?” A yawn, as he scratches at his ribs - fingers digging into the fabric of his cropped tee, “We’re four seasons deep into a Supermarket Sweep marathon. If I could go back in time again…”

The tv blares in the background, Al sitting in an armchair. The couch from the night before still sits empty, no sign of Logan. 

Not that you’re checking. 

“You’d… want to host?” You offer, eyebrows raising. 

“God no. Can you imagine me in those sweaters? Way too much polyester.” He chuckles, “No, Blind Al and I would sweep. Pun intended.”

Your head tilts, nose scrunching.

“I see you make that face, but that woman knows every goddamn aisle.” Wade sighs fondly, before he’s jolting - eyes fixing on you, “But enough about the biggest regret in my life, how was your night?”

“Oh,” You manage, “It’s was good-”

“Just good?” He scoffs, “He gave you the greatest show and you’re saying it’s just good?”

A huff, muttered under his breath, ”Can’t remember the last time I took the skin boat to tuna town like that. Surprised you’re still walking.”

The noise you make is ugly - a broken groan. Embarrassment flooding with your nerves, cheeks heating, “If you must know, it was great. Lots of wholesome, adult conversation.”

“Uh huh. And a good, old-fashioned railing.” His tongue tucks against his teeth, “I get it! I’ve had him inside me too, it was quite the experience.”

That has you pausing. A beat, as curiosity wells in you, “You mean…?”

“Well, it was his claws,” Wade sighs wistfully, “But how different can it be?”

You huff.

“I don’t think that’s the same thing.”

His brow lifts, “It is, according to the internet.”

“Sure, Wade. The Internet.” Your eyes roll, as you shift - adjusting the box as it rests against your hip, “Speaking of though, is he, uh, home?” 

Wade doesn’t hear you. His eyes have already dropped, just noticing what you’re carrying. A tilt of his head as he peers through the transparent film on top. 

“What is that?” His finger pokes the box, and your eyes dip down

“It’s nothing,” You start - but you know he won’t let it drop, “Well, actually, it’s - I uh, made him a-”

The words peter out lamely, as you hold up the box. Wade’s teeth sink into the side of his lip, as he bites back a cackle. 

“Did you seriously bake him a ‘thanks-for-the-sex’ cake?” 

You blink, “No!”

A pause, as mortification wells in you.

“Oh my god,” It’s a whisper, as your hand drags across your face, “Oh my god, Wade. I baked him a sex cake.”

You shove at him as he laughs - his hands sneaking beneath your arm to wrestle the box away from you, “Mm, you’ve got it bad, girlfriend. This is pretty embarrassing, real hard to come back from.”

“There was context!” You insist, reaching for it, “Give that to me.”

Wade twists - pivoting away from you, “Oh ho, not a chance, Sugarplum.”

Your forearm presses into his chest as you lunge at him, but it’s all too easy for him to set the box on the cluttered end-table, barring you as he closes the door - trapping you both out in the hallway. 

“He earned it, from what I heard,” He chuckles, “And are you really gonna take it away from him?”

You’re still mentally, and possibly physically, cringing. Leaning against the wall, while he blocks the door. 

Wade is still grinning, a sigh as his arms cross,“God, I wish he was here.”

And for the first time all day, you’re glad he’s not. It had seemed like a sweet idea but you’re left feeling like an idiot now - already planning on trying to sneak back in and grab it when Wade isn’t looking. 

“He’s not?” You’re fishing. Hook and bobber, a flick as you cast out your heart, fingers on the reel. Pathetic, perhaps, but you can’t resist, “You think he’ll be back tonight?”

“Ooh, the real reason you stopped by. I see how it is.” He sniffs, “But no, I’ve got no idea. Left this morning with Laura, something about a job.”

A beat, before he adds, “Which about time, bee tee dubs. Great face card, but Old Wadey here is about to go into overdraft.”

“Laura?” You parrot, without thinking. A frown creasing your brow, the slightest downturn of your lips.

He catches the expression immediately. 

Wade smirks, “Ooh, you are looking so green, Sugar. Never took you for the jealous type.”

An inhale of air between his teeth, head tilting as his hands brace on his hips, “God I could make this so complicated right now. Drag this whole thing out to another chapter, but I won’t, because I just so happen to like you.”

A beat, before he puts you out of your misery, “Laura’s his daughter. Well, this world’s Logan’s daughter. Well, he’s the baby daddy, but there’s no mom. Well, it’s complicated.”

“Oh.” You manage. Another detail to keep up with, something you tuck away with the rest. To ask Logan about later, when you see him - a feeling that he might be a little more coherent in his explanation.

“I’m sure you’ll meet her.” Wade smiles, “Good kid, I mean, as good as you can be with that as a father figure. So much trauma.”

You hum. He had hinted at that. You couldn’t believe that his world didn’t want him. Not sure what could have happened to have him all but warn you the night before.

As if it would make you not want him. 

There’s a beat, before his hands are resting on his hips, “Okay. I need to go back to the apparently-contextual-sex-cake.” 

You groan, slumping against the wall - the heels of your palms digging into your closed eyes.

“I thought it was embarrassing but I gotta admit that I’m jealous. It’s really bothering me that no one’s ever baked me a cake, because I’m a very tender and generous lover.”

“That wasn’t why. He seemed interested in trying a non-phallic version of the cake I made for you,” You try to keep it professional, but he’s already smirking, “Which thank you for bringing up by the way, really broke the ice.”

“Without me you’d still be at ‘favorite colors’,” Wade’s smile widens, before he sighs longingly, “And god, that cake was good. Best dick I’ve ever had in my mouth.”

You snort, “So far, right?”

His eyes widen.

“You little slut, are you shopping for a third already?” Wade twists the doorknob - opening it a crack with his yell, “Al, it’s happening!”

“No,” You laugh, “I just meant-, I meant I might get better.”

“Can’t beat perfection. And I would know, with a face like this.”

There’s a high-pitched yap then, the sound of nails scratching at the wooden door. 

“Ooh, duty calls. Pun intended. Again.” He thumbs over his shoulder, “I’ll tell him you stopped, by if-”

You give him a look, but a grin still tugs at your lips, “If I do that other thing you’re always asking me to do.”

His hand presses against his chest, in mock-offense.

“I can’t believe you’d say that! I was going to say if you don’t see him first.”

It makes you smile. Fondly, even. 

“Thanks, Wade.”

His hand pats your shoulder. 

“Any time, Sugar. My holes are always open.”

You sigh. 

You don’t see him until late in the evening. 

The afternoon ticking by. Telling yourself you don’t care - to play it cool - only to turn around and try to convince yourself that open communication is the way to go.

Vegging out in front of the television for a while - trying to figure out what to order for dinner. Narrowing it down to two takeout locations when there’s a series of bangs in the hallway.

Layered voices. 

You can’t help but look. Half-nosy and half-worried for Wade, even if he did have mutant powers. Even if you can’t offer much for backup, it doesn’t stop you from cracking open the door. 

“-open the goddamn door right now, I’ll break it down.”

The growling voice is one you’ve come to know, even if it’s angrier than you’ve ever heard.

The side of Logan’s fist colliding with the door frame, his shoulder pressed up against the wooden door.

“Not a chance, Jack Torrance.” Wade’s voice is muffled, “Always wanted to be an uncle and you are not ruining this for me-”

The doorknob rattles under his grip, as he snarls, “You roped me into this, shithead. All that talk about getting to know-“

“New York’s Cupid is never wrong! Don’t you dare ruin my streak!”

It’s then that Logan sees you - the snarl on his face flickering. Expression going flat.

A final filthy glare shot at the door before he steps away. The calculated look he throws your way makes you think he’s considering making for the end-of-the-hall staircase instead.

What is happening? 

A beat, before his jaw grits. Hand shoving into the pocket of his jeans. Closing the gap between you only to thrust out a rolled-up bundle of bills, secured with a rubber band. 

“For the mattress.” 

There’s a frustrated rumble in his throat when you don’t take it - too busy frowning, your eyes flicking from the bills to his face.

“I don’t want that?” It comes out like a question, as you try to put the pieces together. 

“Just take it.” He grits. Eyes dropping, “You can replace your mattress and we can forget last night happened, if you regret it so much.”

You blink.

“I don’t regret last night, Logan.” Your hands brace on your hips, “You were the one that left. Which is fine, if that’s how you like things to go, but don’t you dare point your finger-”

Logan scoffs, interrupting you.

“I didn’t leave.” His tongue licks against his teeth, as his head shakes, “I slept on the couch. Perfect place to hear your rant this morning.”

Your hands brace on your hips, “My rant?”

“Yeah, Sugar.” He’s stepping into your space - and it shouldn’t be as hot as it is, but something about how you’re bumping up against the door has your heart racing, “Heard everything you said. How ‘fucking dumb you are’, how you regret it.”

A beat, as you process - a thunk, as you head tips back against the door. Everything becoming clear, and you almost laugh. 

He hadn’t left.

“I wasn’t talking about you.” 

His frown deepens.

Your face softens, “How could I think that? I spent all day thinking about you. I was mad at myself for taking an early shift, instead of getting that extra time with you.”

There’s still a jut to his jaw. Defenses and hackles raised - your words as useless as his fist against the door.

Your hands spread wide, “I even baked you a cake, which is apparently something I do when I like someone.”

He goes still at that, eyes dark. A lithe roll of his shoulders as he steps closer - voice dropping, “Say that again.”

“I baked you a cake?” You repeat, distracted by his proximity.

“Mm,” Logan hums, “Not the beginning. The last part.”

Your cheeks heat, as you realize what you said, “When… when I like someone.”

There’s the touch of his fingers against your chin. Tipping your face towards his, even as your eyes drift to somewhere over his shoulder. Too embarrassed to meet his gaze just yet.

“Is that right?” Logan husks. 

The word slips from you, “Maybe.”

“I like maybe.”

That emboldens you to look. He’s close now, a mimicry of the night before - just on the other side. 

The hand still hovers, in that narrow gap between you. Fingers flexing around the bundle of bills, “I still want you to take this.”

“Well, I don’t want it.” Your head shakes, “Maybe just for some new sheets, but I thought-“ 

There’s a different intent in the way he crowds you, now. A softer slope of his shoulders, the sweep of his thumb against your skin. 

“Thought what?”

The low husk makes you squirm. His eyes half-lidded when you glance at him. The heat of his anger morphing into a much different kind of fire. 

“Thought that if it was already ruined…” You trail off, as you smile. 

As you hope.

“….maybe you’d want to ruin it a little more with me, sometime?”

There’s the slightest pull of his lips, as he smirks. 

You make it inside, but no further than the couch. It’s familiar, the way his hand cradles the base of your neck. The muted sigh, when your lips part at the sweep of his tongue.

Laid down against the cushions, legs spread to fit him between them. Hips that dip down, the meat of his thigh nudging against your core, sending your heart racing. 

How he chases after you, when you forget to breathe. Leaning in you as your fingers twist in his hair, tugging him closer. 

Need pounds in your vein, matching the pulse in your throat when his lips press against it. Wandering hands, one that palms the curve of your breast. A throaty hum when he can feel the tight peak through the fabric, pinching it between thumb and forefinger.

The other skating up your bare thigh, raising goosebumps. Slipping beneath the hem of your dress, his leg shifting to make room. Fingertips stroking against your inner thigh - the soft crease as you whine into his mouth, feeling how his lips curve as he kisses you. 

You’re wet already. You know you are - since that spark of realization, then the moment when his mouth pressed against yours. Fueled by the heavy weight of him as he guided you beneath him, smelling like smoke and wood and the sharp bite of leather. 

Wound up by this teasing, and it’s enough that your hand is catching his wrist, pulling his palm flush with your core. 

The moan it pulls from you is ragged. Logan’s hand is warm where he cups you, curling fingers against the curve of your ass, heel pressing against your seam. 

Another rock of his hand, until there’s a soft “please” slipping from your lips. Fingers slip beneath then - a ragged curse muttered against your lips as they part you.

Slipping against where you’re wet and warm. The tips of two pressing against your opening, feeling how you give for him.

“Should let me make it up to you.” Logan’s voice is ragged, as he sinks to the knuckle. A slow pump as you clench down around them, a lift of your hips as you try to take more. 

It’s on the tip of your tongue to protest. 

Remind him it was just a misunderstanding, but then your eyes are fluttering open, seeing how his dark gaze is fixed on you.

Your answer is quiet, “Okay. S’long as you don’t stop.”

There’s the flash of sharp teeth. You mourn the weight of him as he eases off of you, fingers slipping free. But it’s only to catch your thighs - smearing slick across your skin as he moves to the floor. Tugging you until legs spread wide for him, hips at the edge of the couch.

There’s a hitch of your breath, as you hold it. His lips pressing against your knee, as his hand bundle up the fabric. A slow reveal as he fists it around his fingers, bringing it up to rest against your abdomen.

His kisses follow the path his fingers took. Open-mouthed against your thigh, until his tongue dips out to taste the soft skin where your leg meets hip.

“Logan,” You huff - needy, “Don’t tease.”

His eyes lift from where they lingered - the darkened patch of fabric between your thighs. 

“Been teasing me since I left. Couldn’t stop thinking about this.” It comes out rough, his eyes flicking back down.

“But I thought-,” You start. It’s hard to think when he’s this close, the press of his thumb into the joint of your knee - keeping your legs spread, “Thought you were mad.”

Logan huffs. Lips ghosting against your skin, as he inhales, “At the thought of never having you again.”

It’s like being struck by an arrow, piercing clean through. The little gasp turning long, as his hand slips up your thigh. Catching at the waistband of your panties - tugging them down so he can get his mouth on you.

The tip of his tongue meets you before his lips do. A low groan as it flattens against your slit, tasting your arousal. His nose pressing against your mound as he teases at your clit. Slipping down to dip inside you, as your nails scrape against the cushions. 

Slicking you up with his tongue. The buzzing groan of his lips against your skin as he eats you - open-mouthed kisses against your core. Tight licks against your clit, before his lips close around and suck.

It leaves you a mess. Short panting breath, as he gives you what you need. His name melding in with your gasps, as that string inside you winds tighter and tighter.

The pressure eases and you whimper as he leans back, jaw working. Lips shiny where he’s smeared with you - watching how you clench for him as he lets spit pool on his tongue, before it’s dropping against your folds. 

It’s filthy, the way he rubs it into your skin. Coating his fingers before the two are notching again, before sinking deep into you.

A moan is pulled from you, with the stretch. Stealing your breath, even with how eager you are. Giving you more. That dull ache easing as his mouth returns to you. Hungry in the way he groans against your skin, as if he was getting off to your pleasure.

The time before doesn’t compare to now. The full focus of his fingers, buried deep and crooking. Pointed flicks of his tongue - the way his eyes are so fixed on your face.

Catching the pull of your brow and the way your teeth sink into your lip. Keeping the pounding pace steady when he sees how you gasp, your fingers fisting in his flannel. Relentless in the way they stroke against the spot that makes you see stars. 

It sends you higher and higher. A groan against your skin when you buck into his mouth. Another one, louder, when your hand slips to his hair and tugs. 

“Feels so fucking good, Logan,” You’re babbling now - desire slurring the syllables, “I’m so, I’m so close-”

Those dark eyes settle over you - his mouth busy but it’s not hard to imagine the way he’d encourage you. The husk of his voice, that tough timber as a low command melds with praise. The thought is enough to send you over - with the soft suck of his mouth, the way his fingers fill you. 

Your knees dig into his shoulders as you curl inward - that hand at your belly pressing you flat against the cushions as you come. Making you take what he gives you - the flick of his tongue going lazy as the tight pulse around his fingers ebbs. 

The tension leeches from you, turning to glitter in your veins. That tight knot of worry slowly unfurling - giving you something to grasp, hold onto, as you come back down. A sigh when his fingers slip from you. The hungry press of teeth against your inner thigh, a reminder that he’s there. Soothing it with the swipe of his tongue after. 

Easing back as you push yourself up - his shoulder pressing into the edge of the couch as he sits on the floor. Your limbs are liquid as you slip down to join him - Logan’s broad hands gripping at your waist, your thighs splitting as you throw a leg across his lap.

“You’re too good at that.” You hum, as you settle in his lap bare, spit-slick against his jeans. Against where he strains, a breath hissed out as you tug at his belt. Reaching to help you - loosening the button, tugging at the zipper.

A lift of his hips to push his jeans down, his cock full and hard where it rests against your belly. His hands reaching for the hem of your dress, tugging it from you. Fingers slipping around to loosen your bra as your mouth meets his. 

He tastes like you, as he licks into your mouth - a sweet tang that blends with him. His shaft pressing against your pussy as he lifts his hips, grinding himself into you. You push yourself up onto your knees - his lips parting with a groan as your fingers circle him, holding him steady.

It breaks off - a sharp hiss, when you sink down. 

There’s no slow slide this time. Too eager, in the way you drop down. Taking half of him at once, with a breath that chokes you. His fingers pinching hard enough to bruise, as his brow knits. 

“Easy, sweetheart.” He grits, “Not going anywhere, alright?”

It soothes you, as your nails bite into his shoulders. Pink marks that ebb away by the time you start moving - a slow bounce until you’re sitting flush on his lap, cock speared inside you. 

It’s also different than last time. He’d been deep, then. Your faced pressed into the mattress as you had panted - but now -

Now, his mouth is at your shoulder. Lips pressed against the fading mark he had left. That tight grip of his hands loosening, as he guides you - letting your hips rock. A shallow drag of his cock inside you, feeling like he’s in your ribs. 

Another press of his mouth against your sternum. Hands slipping down to wrap around your thighs, encouraging you to lift a little more. Enough that he can get his mouth on you - his tongue laving across a nipple. Groaning as you press your chest against him, leaning into the suck of his lips, the nip of teeth.

His thrusts like this are shallow, punctuated by the occasional deep thrust that has you panting. Has your fingers loosening to slip between your thighs, pressing against your clit.

You can feel the scrape of his facial hair. The ease of his hands as he lets you drop, until he’s buried in you again. Catching at your wrist, tugging your hand back to his shoulder.

“Uh-uh.” Logan tongue clicks, eyes dark, “Just keep riding, honey.”

His fingers replace yours. Slick circles, a pressure that makes you clench down hard around him. 

A soft coo, as your breathing shortens - turning to whimpers. 

“Lemme make you feel good.”

And this is new, too - how close he is. Those hazel eyes focused so singularly on you, it’s almost too much.

“You do make me feel good,” You breathe, letting your lips press against his cheek, ‘You’re, oh-”

His hips stutter, where he flexes into you. Your own pace sloppy - grinding instead of bouncing, chasing the building pleasure in your core. The soft sounds you make growing louder. His legs flexing beneath you, feet going flat against the floor so he can drive himself up.

There’s that tell-tale clench. The way your vision starts to go blurry, words slipping into sounds. 

“Logan.” You, “I’m-,”

He can feel it - the way you tighten as he pounds into you. The glaze of your eyes, the throaty moan as you start to string stiff in his arm. 

“That’s it,” Logan rasps, face tipped up to yours, “You gonna come for me?”

Your moan pitches high. 

He grins. 

“Then let me hear how pretty you sound. Come on, sweetheart.”

With the circle of his fingers, you’re shattering.

A soft cry as you come again, gushing against the cock that only pounds harder. Drawing out the flutter of your cunt as he grips your thighs, rocking into you. A ragged moan as he feels how you flutter around him, head tipped back. An arm wrapping around you back as he tips forward, bringing you down to the floor.

You head cushioned on the pile of discard clothes. His knees brace against the rug as the angle changes, sending him deeper. Lifting your hips, eyes fixed on where he drives into you. The gleam of his cock where he’s soaked with your release, how he slips between your puffy folds.

His teeth grit. Fingers flexing against your skin. A rough moan when your hips move to meet his thrusts.

“You want me to come in you again?” There’s an edge to his voice. Eyes fixed on your face, searching.

You nod, but it’s not enough. 

His hips snap harder, breath ragged, “Ask me for it, Sugar.”

It makes your stomach clench. Something deep burning, liquid heat in your core. Your legs hitch around his waist, hooking around his back.

“Want you to come in me,” You beg, “Logan, please-”

His eyes flutter shut. The muscles in his neck flex, as he arcs over you - a hand braced on the floor, pricks of silver glinting between his knuckles.

A rough growl that turns into something soft as his hips snap forward - hilting himself as he comes. Hips pumping with each pulse of his cock, as he spills deep inside you. As you milk him dry, until the heavy throb of his cock fades. 

He’s beautiful. It leaves you dizzy.

You really might just have to bake him another.

The golden sunset seeps through the windows, spilling across the floor.

“You wanna stay?” 

It comes out drowsy. Your limbs are liquid, even more so than last time, “I know a great takeout place.”

You’ll need a little fuel, if tonight goes as it did before. 

He hums - the brush of bare fingers down your spine. It’s cramped on the couch, entwined limbs. Sweat-dewed in the summer evening. 

“You still wanna get to know me?”

Your nose brushes his throat. Cheek pressed up against the curl of his shoulder - where he can just feel you nod, “I would. If you’ll let me.”

“Yeah,” Logan rasps, quietly.

“Yeah. That sounds nice.”

I can't even express how just - grateful and thrilled and happy I am that so many of you liked sugar, sugar! thank you for the encouragement for this part 2, and I hope you liked it! 💖 I have one more part planned (though open for more!) that I've been working on, along with more for the wade x f!reader x logan fic as well!