#logan patch

[goosepool]

Today is a good day for a kid with autism

[pitifulwolves]

Wade Wilson the man that you are

[jackassbroadcast]

Been alittlewhile but the homo grind never stops ���️‼️

[firsthandforgery]

Deadpool , Wolverine, Wolverine, Wolverine, Wolverine, & Wolverine ❤️💛

[mischievous-thunder]

Wade's life's so damn colourful

[apendice-chileno]

bitches gay but suit up

[noodelak]

Mr. & Mr. Weapon X part 2

[brilcrist]

Dropping thissss❤️💛

[ianto-j0nes]

ok that’s hot

[cruel-as-sin]

what happens when you say “i hate you” to different versions of logan (gender neutral) (smut version)

inspired by a conversation with @lostinlovingrevery, hope you all enjoy!

70s!logan

you’ve been having a really bad day. a really, really bad day. the last thing you need is logan brushing you off because he’s “got shit to do, doll.” so you say it, with a stomp of your foot for dramatic effect. you don’t mean it, he knows that. but you aren’t expecting him to also know exactly what you’re asking for, rough hands grabbing you by the hips and shoving you down onto the couch. he grumbles curses under his breath, fumbling with his belt buckle, and you can’t even process what’s happening before he’s pushing into you. the stretch, the burn, the overwhelming fullness, cause your eyes to roll back into your head. upon seeing this, a pleased expression comes to his face. your mind goes blank within moments, no thoughts except the man pounding into you, cigar still perched in his mouth, smoke blurring your vision as he grunts. “there we go. finally fuckin’ quiet.”

origins!logan

you don’t hate him, you hate the grocery store and those assholes at work and the guy who cut you off when you were driving home. but it just kind of slips out- you’re stressed, anxious, and your sweetheart of a boyfriend unintentionally becomes your punching bag. you’ve barely gotten out an apology before he’s wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. he studies you with a serious expression, hands rubbing circles against your hips. “you hate me, huh?” you try to reassure him that no, of course you don’t, but he won’t listen, the playful glint in his eyes betraying his true intentions. “seems like we oughta fix that.” despite your protests that you’re fine, he carries you to bed with ease, laying you down and using his tongue to work as many orgasms out of you as you need to be happy and satisfied. “feelin’ better, sunshine?”

animated!logan

it comes after he’s slammed you into the danger room floor for the twentieth time that day. you’re utterly exhausted, just wanting one fucking win, but he’s not letting up. he doesn’t take it easy on you- never does. you have a lot of respect for him for it, but goddamn does it piss you off. that was probably the wrong thing to say, though, given the way he’s staring down at you right now. “hate me? that’s harsh, bub.” something predatory flashes in his eyes. “must not wanna touch me then either.” you get to your feet, glaring daggers back at him. he draws it out with a smug smile, waiting for you to admit the truth- it’s not about if you give in, but when. you’re too proud to admit it- so instead you drag him to the nearest closet, sinking to your knees and unbuckling his belt. his hand fists itself in your hair, guiding your pace as he fucks your throat. he makes you take all of him, forcing you down to the base, grinning when you choke on his cock. “don’t worry. i’ll take this as an apology.”

trilogy!logan

you’re play fighting in the kitchen- a common occurrence as he tries to interrupt whatever you’re doing. today it borders on arguing, which is why the exasperated words direct themselves his way, punctuated by a “so much” for emphasis. he just looks at you, with his gorgeous face that has your stomach doing flips, taking a few steps closer until he’s invading your space. “that’s not what you were saying last night, baby.” the memory of last night, his touch and his filthy words in your ear, brings heat to your cheeks. his breath hits your skin, his mouth tantalizingly close to yours, the proximity making you squirm. before you know it, you’re upstairs, a smug smile on his face as he makes you fall apart with his fingers, begging and pleading for more. the way you writhe underneath him confirms what you won’t confess, and he hums in fake contemplation. “guess you don’t hate me that much after all.”

2013!logan

you want to go out into the city, he tells you it’s not safe. it’s a debate that’s been going around in circles for days until you finally let the words slip. his silence, paired with the flash of anger in his eyes, tells you that was a mistake, but it’s too late to take it back now. not that you would dream of it as he drags you to the bedroom, one rough hand grabbing your chin and forcing you to look in the mirror as he sinks you down onto his length. the other lifts your hips up then drops you back down again, a slow but brutal pace. it’s too much, and you feel lightheaded as he growls in your ear. “what do you say, sweet thing?“ still, you’re coherent enough to remember your manners, babbling incoherent thanks and apologies, reduced to a basic vocabulary as he impales you on his cock over and over. tears begin to stream down your face, and his firm hold keeps you there, made to see the way he wrecks you completely, the way you fucking love it.

dofp!logan

you’re tied down to the bed, silk rope binding your wrists and ankles. he’s been teasing you for hours. logan always likes to play with his food- slow, methodical, taking his time with you. and god, you enjoy it, but you’ve been good today and you just want your reward. the words are muttered, frustrated, and you’re grateful when he keeps going. you think must not have heard you by the way he’s bringing you closer and closer to that delicious peak, until his gravely voice is right next to your ear. “careful.” he takes your chin, making you look at him as he pulls his hand away from where you need it most. his eyes are serious, his tone a warning, one that only further turns you on. a whine escapes you, your hips bucking at just how close you are, how much you need this. “don’t want me to leave you here, do you, honey?” he smiles in satisfaction when you immediately shake your head, begging him not to do that to you. “that’s what i thought.”

old man!logan

you know you shouldn’t have said it. of course you know you shouldn’t have said it, but that didn’t stop you from doing it anyway. logan doesn’t move from the armchair he’s sitting in, whiskey bottle lowering from his lips. he raises an eyebrow, looking up at you with an unamused expression. “you done?” meekly, you swallow and nod, mumbling a sorry and thinking that’ll be the end of it. but you think wrong. he sets the bottle on the table, turning to face you again, something serious in his eyes. “c’mere.” he pays his lap. you move to sit, but he stops you with a firm hand against your thigh. “bend over, sweetheart.” your heart races as you realize what your punishment will be. you do as he says, and soon enough, your eyes are filled with tears from the spanking he delivers you. “you know better than to pull that shit on me.” he grumbles, clearly disappointed in your attitude. “don’t do it again, y’hear me? got enough to worry about without you bein’ a brat.”

worst!logan

you’re standing outside the door of your apartment when it happens. you’ve been lamenting to wade and vanessa about how much logan drives you crazy, with his stupid face and huge muscles and unfairly sexy voice. unbeknownst to you, logan is just down the hall, coming back from the grocery store. looking back, you’re fairly certain both wade and vanessa knew he was coming before you did, deciding to leave you to your cruel fate. it isn’t until you feel strong hands on your hips and warm breath on the back of your neck and a suspiciously familiar sexy voice in your ear that you realize the trap you’ve stepped into. “you’re hurting my feelings.” you turn around and are met with a fake pout. who knows where wade and vanessa went, all you know is that he’s backing you up against your door, continuing to get closer even as you stumble through apologies. “that’s it? you’re sorry?” he flashes a toothy grin, something predatory gleaming in his eyes. “come on, angel. i know you can do better than that.” he’s cornering you: nothing to do, nowhere to run- except, of course, his lips. so you give in, tongue crashing against yours, his body enveloping your senses. and trust me, he’s gonna make sure you never think a single damn bad thing about him again.

patch!logan

you’re in the casino, begging him to let you get in on a game. he says your job is to just “sit here and look pretty, darlin’,” but you’re getting really fucking bored. the moment the words cross your lips, you regret it. not just because you don’t mean it, but because you can see immediately that logan is pissed. he gives you a look the likes of which he’s never given you before, and nearly shoves you off of his lap. you wait by the edge of the table until the place empties out for the night, thinking maybe he just needed to get it out of his system. but even when the two of you are alone once more, he still doesn’t say a word, just leans back and spreads his legs- a command, and you must obey it. so you do. crawling towards him on your hands and knees, reaching up to undo his belt buckle. as you pull his cock out, beginning to stroke him, the tip of his boot presses against your thigh, and you realize what he wants you to do. you’ll do anything to make it up to him, including sacrificing your pride. so you do: grinding on his boot, pathetic whimpers leaving your lips, muffled by the way your mouth is wrapped around his cock. all the while he says nothing, staring down at you with a menacing expression, and the only thing you can do is pray that you’ll be good enough that he’ll show you mercy.

cowboy!logan

you don’t even remember what you were fighting with him about. no, that left your head the second the unimpressed expression took over his face and the words “that so?” left his lips. you nod- stupidly, you nod. then you step back, but it’s too late, his lasso wrapping around you and tugging you closer to him. “ooh.” he sucks air in through his teeth, shaking his head with a heavily disappointed expression. “that’s gonna be a problem, isn’t it?” he doesn’t let you answer, pulling on the lasso a little harder and sending you stumbling to the ground. he leans down to be face to face with you, jerking his head toward the empty farmhouse a few hundred meters away. “you’d better find a way to make it up to me, sugar. and fast.” when you still don’t move, don’t say anything, he frowns, clicking his tongue at you. “get to it.” and now his voice has that commanding tone, and suddenly you are letting him pull you towards the dirty mattress in the farmhouse, tying your wrists to the bedpost as he cages you in.

[steakcy]

Patch and Deadpool - Lesbians edition 🛐

[pitifulwolves]

The boys as that one Harley and Joker comic cover because I needed another excuse to draw Wade in a dress

[lostinlovingrevery]

Fever

Patch! Logan X F! Reader

He wants you to be his

A/N: the way this just kept going lol....Also consider this a hint/peek at what the Patch! series will look like! (w/ some things changed)

Warnings: 5K WC LOL, SMUT! reader is a singer and wears a sexy dress, creepy pervert boss- unwanted touch!, drinking, patch being a flirt, secret established relationship, possessive! logan, patch defending his girl so violence, unprotected piv, f! and m! oral recieving, doggy I guess?, choke hold, marking, a little bit rough sex but not that much, you get fucked silly, yay!

Getting through the night was always a little hard. 

As someone who hates being the center of attention, you’re not sure why you choose to be an entertainer of all things.

Standing on a stage, blinded by shining lights, made deaf by the orchestra that surrounds you. Wearing a dress that shows a tad too much cleavage, snapping your fingers to the beat while swinging your hips side to side and showing the world what your momma gave you.

Your voice echoes back in your ears as you sing and it doesn’t even sound like you. 

Sun lights up the daytime

Moon lights up the night

I light up when you call my name

And you know I'm gonna treat you right

You give me fever

Yet despite the quiet anxiety you feel onstage, where hundreds of onlookers watch you- faces of envy, jealousy, lust- you still felt yourself lost in the lyrics of your song. It captivates you, a song falling between love and lust. A song you find yourself in every day lately.

You couldn’t make out the sea of faces that stared up at you- the stage lights left white spots in your version, blurring the scene before you like a Claude Monet painting with the vast colors that decorated the crowd. 

Even with such an audience in the room, you could feel the stare of one man. Every set you play- even when you don’t see him, you can feel him. 

You finished your set, the last song of the night. Thank god.

The audience claps, a few whistles and whoops. You thanked them for a wonderful night, and handed the microphone off to the announcer who gave you a chaste kiss to the back of your hand, bidding you compliments and a good night to the audience and you quickly made your exit. 

The first place you went to is the bar. 

Needing a drink to take the edge off, and decompress before you head upstairs to your room. The bartender, a dear friend of yours- already knew you were on your way and had prepared your favorite. 

She had set it on the counter the moment you sat on your stool. 

“Thank you-” You smile, your voice sounding a little hoarse as you clear it. You took the glass, taking a generous sip that burned your throat and did nothing to quench your actual thirst- but at least you could relax a bit.

“Beautiful tonight as always,” She compliments. “ Y’know…” She glanced around, checking to see if anyone was watching, the bar- set off to the side of the large showroom sat mostly empty. Most patrons cleared out after the last song- drunk and horny and looking to either crash in their rooms or find an escort to keep them company for the night. “I noticed you’ve been singing a lot of love songs lately…” 

You rolled your eyes, “Sweetheart, my whole style is based on crooners. You show me a song from them that isn’t about love.”

“There’s a few I’ve heard you sing. This is different though you’re like…So into it.” She teases, tapping you on the hand that held your drink. She then mimics you singing, being extra dramatic in her expression and mimicking the lyrics. You begin to laugh.

“I don’t do that!” You playfully shoved her, but you felt heat blooming in your cheeks. You went to sip your drink while your friend continued teasing you, and you turned your back away from her- pretending as if you didn’t know her. 

You were smiling to yourself, looking down at your drink when you noticed a pair of dress shoes. You brought the glass to your lips, as your eyes trailed up the white suit that stood before you, taking in the broad shoulders before reaching the handsome face. 

An infamous man known as Patch, at least around here. Nicknamed by what you presume from the eyepatch that covers over his left eye. A repeat customer to the casino you perform for, a gambler with a very long streak of luck, and a penchant for getting into fights. You’ve heard he was banned from multiple casinos around Madripoor- due to his ability to win just about any and every game of chance, rumors say that he earned hundreds and thousands of earnings from his wins. Other rumors say it’s due to his other talent at throwing punches. 

No one knows his story, but then again- that was true for everyone in Madripoor.

He was famous for appearing as a gentleman, but underneath the classy suit, he was a scoundrel. 

You slowly lowered the glass from your lips, struck by his looks. Dark brown locks slicked back, and neatly trimmed mutton chops, giving him a more classy appearance. One of the guards of the casino once told you that he saw him first as a cage fighter, back when Patch first came to the city- and looked more like an wild, untamed animal, nothing like he does now. 

Your casino hasn’t thrown him out yet. This isn’t the first- nor will it be the last time he has approached you. All charm and smiles that you couldn’t help feel weak in the knees from. 

“Looked wonderful up there tonight, darling.” His voice was deep and low, the sound shooting up your spine. He stepped closer, a hand reaching out to rest on your hip. “- As always, of course.” His smile grew. 

His demeanor always held a certain intimidation, like he was posing a challenge to everyone in the room. He stood over you, looking down at you like you were prey, but you could see a glimmer in his eye- something familiar. 

A warm feeling pooled in your tummy at the way his hand softly caressed your hip. For a moment, you leaned in, getting yourself lost in the green of his eye. Reason struck you, and you stepped back, removing his hand from your hip and curling yours around his hand, feeling the warmth from him.

“Thank you.” You tilted your head, flashing your practiced smile, you give to anyone who comes to compliment you on the entertainment you provide. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“I certainly did.” He hums, his smile fading into something more sincere, looking you up and down, and your heart flutters when he looks back at you again. He leaned down, bowing as he brought the back of your hand to his lips, pressing them gently to the skin and looking up at you- a lingering pause, before standing up. A cocky smirk returned on his face, “If you’re looking for company tonight, you know where to find me. Sweetheart.” 

He let go of your hand, bringing it over to tip your chin up, his eye grazed over your neck. He gave you a wink, before walking away. 

You didn’t even realize you had been holding your breath the entire interaction. You watched him walk to the other end of the bar. Finally letting it out and tearing your eyes away to face the counter. 

Your friend was looking at you knowingly, raising a brow.

“Shush.” 

“I didn’t say anything!” She exclaims, holding her hands up defensively. “I saw how you were looking at him, though….”

“He was just complimenting me. I get multiple people who come up and do that every night.” You argue. 

“Whatever.” She says, “Just be careful. You know that guy has a reputation.” 

You shook your head, looking away to laugh her off. “There’s nothing to be careful about because there’s nothing happening.”

“Woah hold on-” Her hand reached out, stopping you from looking at her again. “You got a major hickey.”

“What?” You blinked in surprise. She laughs, 

“So much for nothing happening.” She smirks, removing her hand. You brought your own hand to touch where the so-called hickey was, a small panic hitting you. You were so sure you covered everything with makeup this morning! How could you miss it?

You glanced over to where Patch was sitting on the other end of the bar. He was watching you with a cocky expression, and toasted the glass of whiskey the other bartender had served him towards you, before taking a long swig- not breaking away his stare. 

You looked away, embarrassment creeping up your spine. You knew you shouldn’t be embarrassed- but the way Patch was staring at you, it made your thoughts run wild- and your thighs press together. 

You went to finish your drink off, so you could head back to your room upstairs- when a familiar voice sent dread through you, nausea bubbling in your stomach. 

You forced a smile, and turned around to give a semi-flirty look to your boss- the head of the casino.

Michael Karas, an older, filthy rich gentleman who hits on you every chance he’s got, and does whatever he can to parade you around under his arm and by his side. He was a known grade A pervert- all the girls who work under him do anything to minimize contact with him. He typically gets bored with one, moves on to another- but unfortunately for you, he has clocked in on you since you first came a year ago and hasn’t let go since. 

The man harasses you every night. You’ve been forced to get dinner with him, drinks, go to premiers and more. You gag at the gossip magazines in stores that imply you’re in a relationship with him. He’s repulsive, disrespectful, and just plain weird.

However, he is your boss, and one of the most powerful people in Madripoor. You tried to completely turn him down once, and was told that you would “disappear” if you ever refused him again. So you do whatever you can to remain at a professional, platonic level with him. Maintaining excuse after excuse as to why you couldn’t be with him. You acted like it was a fun little game- for him. Felt like survival for you.

So far it has worked- but lately Micheal has been coming on to you more. Being touchy and more demanding.  

You’re not sure how much longer you can push him away.

“Gorgeous!” He smiles as he walks to the bar counter where you sat, his arms open for you as he approaches. Surrounded by multiple men in security suits. You stood up to give him a polite hug, but he pulled you tighter to him, and gave you a wet kiss on the cheek. 

You attempted to hide the look of disgust on your face. Pulling away, you grabbed your drink and held it between you both, at least something to keep him a few inches away from your personal space. You brought your hand up to where the supposed hickey was located- hoping that Michael doesn’t notice that or your strange body language. 

“Your voice is as angelic as ever my dear.” He purrs and you let out a small laugh.

“Thank you Micheal.” You crossed your arms, and his arm slinked around your waist pulling you close. 

“Say, why don’t you come finish your drink with me? Hm?” His hand came up to boop your nose, which made you have to struggle to hide your cringe from him. 

“Uh…I…” You shook your head, struggling to find an excuse. “I’m really tired tonight, Micheal.” 

“Oh dear- You’re tired every night.” He moves to stand in front of you. “It’s not like it’s work to be with me. I’ll take care of you. Haven’t I already?” 

He flashes you a smile and you want to puke. 

“I just don’t feel good.” 

He frowns, tipping his chin up to look down at you. Letting go he steps back, his hands up in surrender, with a dry tone. “Hm, alright. God forbid I would want to catch something.” 

A smile of relief came across you and you nodded. “Exactly, I know you work so hard honey- That’s why it’s not a good time.” You squeezed his arm reassuringly. 

“Yeah, right.” He looks at you, tongue in cheek. You leaned forward to give him a kiss on the cheek, turning to walk away- when his hand came down on your ass making you yelp. “Get some rest sweetcheeks because tomorrow night- You ain’t getting out of dinner with me.” 

You would have turned around and given him a piece of your mind, to lecture him- it didn’t matter who he was; he didn’t have a right to do that.

However, someone else beat you to it 

“Hey bub.” 

Patch was across the bar in a flash. Michael could barely react before he was met with Patch fist to his face, knocking him clean to the ground. 

One of the guards grabbed you and pulled you away causing you to stumble, while the others went after Patch, tackling him, landing punches across his face and stomach- only he didn’t seem affected. The scene went into chaos, as you watched your boss attempt to pick himself up from the ground, holding his jaw. Patch broke loose from three guards who were attempting to pin him to the counter and landed yet another punch to your boss, knocking him out as he fell to the ground. 

You don’t condone violence, however, this was extremely satisfying to witness.

Before you could do or say anything, the same guard dragged you away from the bar, out into the showroom, where he escorted you to the halls, where he left you to rejoin his brethren in an attempt to take down the one-eyed gentleman in the white suit. 

You stood there awkwardly, a little unsure of what to do. You heard sounds of clashing, disruption coming from the room- while party-goers walk past you with strange looks on their face, attempting to peer in. You give them an awkward smile, before turning to find another bar in the casino.

You really needed another drink.

After successfully getting one, you finally went back to your room. You dragged your feet, mind wandering back to Patch, and wondering if he got out okay. 

You reached the door to the penthouse you live in, amazing view, nice furniture. It’s cozy- maybe not exactly your style, but since you don’t have to pay rent, you couldn’t complain. Inserting your key card into the door, and walking into the darkness of your place. 

Except the light coming off a lamp in the corner of the living room drew your attention. 

There sat Patch on one of the chairs that adorned your living room. Leaning back with his legs spread and a glass of whiskey in hand. He smirked at your surprised expression. 

“Hey, sweetheart.” 

“Logan!” You hissed quietly under your breath, closing the door behind you and making sure it’s locked. He tilted his head, a false expression of confusion on his face. 

“What?” 

“You can’t just come in here like that- what if I was with somebody?” You walked towards him in the living room with your hands on your hips. 

“I would’ve taken care of it.” He says, turning to sip his whiskey before carefully setting it on the table next to him, atop a coaster. 

“Like you took care of Michael?”

He glanced up at you and smirked. Standing up, he walked over to you. You sighed, your hands reaching for the lapel of his coat. “You okay?” You ask, worry crosses your expression.

“Love when you worry about me.” He grins. “You know there ain’t no reason to.”

“Maybe…” You look down, frowning at the speckles of blood on his coat. He noticed what you were looking at, and shed it off, tossing it to the side and leaving him in slacks, a button-up dress shirt, and suspenders. “That’s better.” You hummed, your fingers looping under the suspenders and playfully snapping them against his chest. 

“Ow.” He mocks, and smiled down at you. His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you close, your noses bumping against each other, as he held his lips inches away from yours.

“Not so tough, are you?” You whispered. 

“Against you? Definitely not.” He mumbles, his lips brushing over yours. “You okay?” 

“M’fine.” You nodded. He pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips, then your cheek, then the tip of your nose. You shut your eyes, savoring the feeling of his lips over your skin. His hands gripped your hips and pulled you against him.  “You’re going to get us caught flying off the handle like that-”

“Good.” He mumbles, continuing to shower your face, down to your neck, with kisses, making sure his lips touch every inch of your skin. “Tired of pretending like you ain’t mine.”

You heard a change of his tone, the growl of his voice when he said “mine” and it sent goosebumps down your arms. 

You’re not sure how this thing started between you and Logan- or “Patch”. He showed up, and swept you off your feet. Due to your “relationship” with your boss, or lack thereof, you and Logan have snuck around. It was fooling around initially- or so you thought. The feelings that have grown for the man known as Patch suddenly appeared just as quickly as he had.

Logan hated Micheal for more reasons than one- but for your own safety he dealt with it. He could’ve killed him, the bastard deserves it more than most people lives Logan had ended. However, with his own mission- it would cause some serious problems. Now, however…

It was fun initially, pretending not to know each other during the day, but by night…

However, Logan’s grown tired of that game. Tired of watching you from the distance- wishing he could hold you, have you sit in his lap during his sessions of gambling, and cuss out any fucker think he’s worth his salt to even look at you. 

“The bastards, lucky I didn’t chop his head off the moment he touched you.” He murmurs as he presses a kiss to your jaw. You tipped your head back, giving him purchase to your neck, your lips parting as you leaned into his kisses. “I’m gonna kill him, then he can’t ever fucking touch ya again-” 

“Logan-” You stopped him, and he looked at you with a quirked brow. “Not funny.” 

“I wasn’t joking.” He looked down at you. The expression in his eye sent chills down your back, and excitement. “I would have killed him tonight if it weren’t for his little team of babysitters.” 

“Lo.” You repeat his name, “He’s an asshole, I agree but killing him? You’re going to get yourself killed instead.” 

Sure, would Michael being gone be a weight off your - and likely hundreds of other shoulders? Yes. Aside from not wanting to condone murder… He is a well-known figure in this city. If Logan did anything and it was traced back to him… Healing factor or no, you couldn’t bear the idea of him getting hurt. 

“Can’t die, baby. You know that.” His hands climbed up to cup your face gently. “I’m getting sick of not being able to show you off. Everyone needs to know you’re mine.” 

You smiled, turning to kiss the palm of his hand. “I know, isn’t that enough?” 

His expression softened, and he leaned forward to capture you in a real kiss. His hands began to explore your body. Your lips moved over each other, possessive and passionate. He pushed you back, pushing you against the wall. 

“You act like you don’t condone what I do, but you forget I can hear your heartbeat baby.” He mutters between passionate smooches. “And I can tell when you start feeling all needy. Turned you on when you watched me make him pay for touching you, didn’t it?”

“Maybe…” You muttered under your breath. He chuckled, nipping your bottom lip, before turning his attention to your neck. Slowly he lowered himself down to his knees, pressing a trail of kisses down your center, kissing your belly through your dress as he looked up at you. One of his hands pressed to your lower back, while the other slipped past the slit of your dress, making contact with your skin. 

He smirked at the shiver that ran through you, as he brushed his hand over your thigh, before cupping for your ass, his fingers going underneath the hem of your panties. He continued pressing kisses to you through your dress while feeling you up. 

“You’re so damn beautiful.” He murmurs against the fabric of your dress. “Can you blame me for wanting to show you off?” 

“Mm.” You giggle. “I can’t risk you getting hurt Lo. I know you can’t die, but Micheal…He knows people. He gets any idea and he’ll figure out how to get you killed.” 

“Not if I get him first.” He suggests again. “He’s become a fucking annoyance with my own problems anyway.” 

Logan hasn’t told you exactly why he was here in Madripoor, where he came from, what he was even doing. Claims he’ll tell you one day, when it’s safe for you to know. You’re not sure if he’s telling the truth, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when he worships you the way he does. 

His hand under your dress began tugging your panties down to your ankles. He helped you step out of them while pocketing them. He then helped you take off your heels before encouraging you to put one leg over his shoulder. 

Pressing a kiss to the top of your foot, then your ankle, he worked his way up until he was nipping the skin of your inner thigh. He pressed his lips into the crease of where your thigh met your core, licking the skin there, before turning his head to press a teasing kiss to your clit. You buried your hand into his hair, closing your eyes and tipping your head back against the wall, melting the moment his tongue made contact with your cunt. 

He lapped at you like a man dying of thirst, staring up at you to watch your every reaction. His hands supported you on your shaky legs as he buried himself in your folds. Licking every inch of you, before dipping his tongue into your hole. Quiet whimpers escaped you as you started to grind your hips over him.

“Lo…” You gasped, “Don’t stop-” 

“Wouldn’t dream of ever doing that princess-” He mumbles, eyes growing heavy as he became drunk off your essence.

Your fingers dug into his scalp painfully, and you heard him moan. His lips wrapped around your swollen clit and began sucking, his tongue swirling nonsensical shapes against the bud. He brought a hand to your core, a finger teasing your entrance before he buried it inside you. Your hips thrust forward, grinding over him as he brings you to your peak, lapping up every ounce of your ecstasy as you cry out his name, shaking before him. 

He stood up, picking you up with his hands on your ass, lips crashing onto yours before you could even catch your breath.. You could taste yourself on his tongue and his lips. 

“See how good you taste, princess?” He mumbles against you. You wrapped your legs around his hips, and he carried you back to your bedroom.  

The neon lights of buildings that towered over the casino hotel shone through your window. Shades of red highlighted Logan's face, as your hands caressed him. 

He dropped you onto the bed, before flipping you onto your belly- leaning over you and pressing open-mouth kisses against your neck and shoulders, before his teeth found the zipper of your dress, and tugged it downwards. He pulled the fabric apart, continuing to kiss your back while he began to undress himself. Pulling off the suspenders, he worked the buttons of his shirt and tossed it aside. 

You were flipped back onto your back as he turned his attention back to undressing you. He lifted the hem of your dress up, as you helped him pull it off and get dropped to the side of the bed. 

He stood up, and you sat up with him, eagerly undoing his belt and tugging his pants down until they fell to his ankles, along with his boxers. 

Your mouth watered at the sight of his erect cock. You reached your hand out to press against his belly, admiring the muscles that flexed from his touch. Tracing downwards until you grabbed the base of his cock. You looked up at him for permission.

He smirked. “Go ahead, sweetheart, get a little taste.” 

You smiled at his words, learning forward to dip your tongue into the slit of his tip. You swirled your tongue around his tip, then took it between your lips. 

You heard a harsh breath escape him as he tilted his hips forward, pushing himself deeper into your mouth, his hand going into your hair. 

“Pretty girl…” He mutters. “I was thinking about this when I watched you sing tonight. Thinking about how those pretty lips making those pretty sounds looked on my cock.” 

A moan escaped you, and he pulled out. His hands gently pushed you back down onto the bed, and flipped you once again onto your belly, his arm wrapped around your waist to push you further up on the bed as he clambered after you, the mattress creaking under his weight.

He pushed your face into the plush duvet, angling your hips up. His cock rested against your cunt and you pushed back onto him, wiggling your hips. 

A chuckle escaped him, his hand pressed firmly into your back. “I know you want it baby, I got you.” he coos.

He took his shaft in hand, pushing himself through your folds. He coated himself with your arousal, teasing your hole by pushing his tip in and out of you, until you were whining, full of complaints that made him smirk.

“Logan!” You whimpered, arching your back and spreading your thighs further apart. Your hands gripped the sheets of your bed. 

“That’s what I like to see, beautiful.” He hums as he finally pushes himself inside you. “Pretty pussy’s been begging for me all night hasn’t she?”

He was slow, burying every inch into your pussy as if he was making sure you’d memorized every detail of his cock molding you inside. A deep moan escaped you. 

“There we go…” He purrs, “Big stretch, yeah?” 

You couldn’t even answer. Becoming mindless at the feeling of his cock thrusting into you. Your fingers curled into the sheets as you began mindlessly rocking your hips back onto him.

He settled one hand on your hip, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your skin, and the other hand on his hip. He slowly pulled out, and back in- creating a steady pace as he watched his cock push into you. He listened to your breathy whimpers, smirking at the way your pussy clenched around him every time he buries himself to the hilt. 

He leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back as his hips became flushed against your ass. A hand snaked underneath you, first stopping to press circles into your nipple, before climbing up to wrap around your neck. He gently squeezed you, delivering a hard thrust just to listen to you cry out.

“Love your voice darling, and your little songs- but fuck do I love hearing those sounds more.”

You tipped your head back, exposing your neck to him. He leaned down, sucking at your skin.

“Care- Careful-” You breathed, becoming semi-aware again. “You already left one mark.” 

“I know.” You could hear the arrogance in his voice. “I told you, sweetheart-” 

His steady thrusts began to go faster, his legs kicked yours farther apart. His free hand pushed down on your waist, keeping your back arched against him. 

“I’m done hiding the fact that you’re mine.” He growls. “Don’t give a shit what that snot-nosed rich boy gotta say about it. So don’t bother being quiet, everyone is going to know tomorrow who you belong to.” 

You cried out as his gentle thrusts became brutal, his grip on you becoming tighter as he grunted. The bed shook with his movements. He turned his head, pressing his lips against your cheek- a gentle reminder of his love for you. 

There was a feeling stirring in the pit of your belly, but before you could focus. His arms came around you, pulling you up onto your knees. One arm wrapped around your waist- your arms pinned at your side, while his other arm wrapped around your neck in a headlock. He continued thrusting up into you, hitting the spot that made you a ragdoll against him.

“C’mon, darling- The neighbors can’t hear you.” He says through gritted teeth. You were rendered speechless- until his hand reached and found your clit and began rubbing firm circles that made your body spasm against him. 

“Oh-!” You cried out. You reached up to bury your nails into his arm that held you in a headlock. “Lo- Patch!” You nearly screamed Logan's name, only to remember that if he wants people to know you belong to him; you have to use his alias. 

You heard him snort through heavy pants. “Good girl-” He grunts. 

“Patch- Please!” You whimpered, 

“Cum for me princess-” He purrs. 

Obeying his words, you came for the second time while he fucked you through it. Your body shook against him, and he let you out of the headlock. You fell back onto the mattress, your body limp and shaking with aftershocks of your orgasm.

His hands grabbed your hips- and he continued fucking into you and not slowing down. You could tell by his breathy pants and the way his thrusts turned sloppy, that he was close- and you were already approaching your third orgasm of the night. Your limbs too weak at this point to do anything, so your laid there as he had his way with you- fucking into you at an incredibly messy pace- your mouth hung open and you nearly started to drool- becoming dumb from his cock. 

He leaned forward, his head resting on your shoulder and he rutted into you, burying himself completely before a harsh grunt of your name escaped him- and you felt the warm feeling of his cum filling you up inside. A loud snikt! was heard, and you opened your eyes to see his fist buried into your mattress. Your sheets were going to need to be replaced now- not that you really minded.

 Breathy moans filled your ear, sending you off once more into your own pleasure while he continues small ruts into you, making sure you’re filled to the brim with him. 

Once finished, he gently pulled out of you, collapsing at your side with a deep groan. 

“Fuck.” He hissed. His hand lazily went to your back, softly stroking it with his knuckles. “You good, baby?” 

“Mm.” You could barely mutter, turning your head to face him with sleepy eyes and a smile. You managed a tired nod. 

“That’s my girl.” 

He took a deep breath and sat up. “Let's get you cleaned up.” 

“No.” You muttered, lazily reaching out to stop him. “Leave it.” 

A devious grin grew on his face, He leaned back with one arm crossed behind his head. Opening the other for you to curl into his side. ”Dirty girl.” he hums under his breath, before turning to press a kiss to your forehead. 

“Logan?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“If…I’m yours, that means you’re mine too, right?” 

Butterflies stirred in his stomach, he looked up at the ceiling. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m all yours.”

[wolverinescheeks]

Here's the Patch that I promised I'd draw😄 I even referenced a James Bond pose cuz I thought it would be fitting

[mcrdvcks]

had a little thought about this variant in particular :)

warnings/tags: no use of y/n, gn!reader, though reader wears a dress and heels, light blood

---

"Patch!" Wade called out from behind, his voice cutting through the murmur of the dimly lit casino room.

Logan’s one good eye flicked up from the poker table, an eyebrow raising just a bit. "Do I know you?"

Wade grinned under his red mask, hands up like he was just there for a friendly chat. "Not yet, but you're about to." He glanced around, feigning awe at the luxury. "Nice place you've got here. Fancy suits, eye patches—very debonair."

Logan didn’t smile. "You got five seconds to get to the point."

Wade stepped closer, ignoring the glares from the other players. "Alright, here’s the pitch. I need you, big guy. Got a universe that’s falling apart, and I’m in desperate need of a certain… je ne sais quoi that only you can bring. You, Patch, could be the anchor this whole reality needs.”

Logan didn’t even blink. “You’re either insane or just plain stupid. I don’t know you, and I don’t care about your problems.”

Wade let out an exaggerated sigh. “Okay, okay, playing hard to get. Look, I didn’t want to do this in front of your… uh—” Wade gestured towards everyone at the table. “Lovely friends here. But time’s running short.”

Wade, who was crouched down to the right of Logan didn’t get to continue his rambling as he unsheathed his claws straight in his skull. Logan’s claws went back into his hand as Wade fell to the floor.

You, who had gone briefly to get a glass of champagne, stopped at the body who had just flopped onto the ground. You glanced at your dress, a nice mauve color, now with a few small spots of red at the hem.

“Honey!” You dragged out, “he got blood on my dress.”

Logan turned to look at you, finally tearing away his gaze from being front facing to you, standing holding a half-full champagne flute looking as beautiful as ever and yes, you now had blood on your dress.

Wade, who was shaking his head, clearing the fog from his mind, looked up from the floor, “hey! He got my blood on your dress. All I did was very kindly introduce myself- ”

You stepped forward, your heel digging into Wade’s arm with a squelch. Wade let out a small screech as you took another step toward Logan, one foot bare, the other still sporting your special heel with a concealed blade.

Wade groaned, twisting on the floor to look up at you. “Really? Really? First the claws, now the stiletto treatment? I thought this was a classy establishment!”

“You got blood on my dress,” you said coolly, taking another sip of your champagne as you met Logan’s gaze.

Logan’s mouth twitched, almost a smile. “Should’ve aimed better, bub.”

Wade managed to sit up, rubbing his head where Logan had left his mark. “This—” he gestured vaguely around, “—is exactly why I need you. That unrelenting charm, the claws, the scrappy partner who, might I say, has a very sharp sense of fashion.”

Once beside Logan’s chair, his hand went around your waist, pulling you down into his lap with a casual possessiveness. He looked up at you, a flicker of amusement in his eye. “Didn’t expect company tonight,” he murmured, his hand resting comfortably at your hip.

You raised an eyebrow, giving him a slight smirk. “Didn’t expect blood on my dress tonight either,” you replied, tilting the glass toward him. “This is on you.”

Wade, still on the floor, held up a hand like he was back in school. “If I may interject, it’s technically on me. All over me, really. And your heel…which is still in my arm, by the way.”

Logan didn’t even look down. “Didn’t I tell you to scram, bub?”

Wade let out an exaggerated groan, dramatically flopping back on the floor. “Alright, fine! Just thought maybe you’d like a little…adventure through the multiverse, something different. I’ll even throw in a couple of perks—health benefits, access to all the chimichangas you can eat. You know, the important stuff.”

You laughed, settling back against Logan. “Sounds like a tempting offer, doesn’t it, hun?”

Logan’s grip on your waist tightened. “Tempting? This guy can’t keep his mouth shut long enough to get through a meal, let alone a job.”

Wade scrambled to his feet, brushing off his suit—now slightly stained with his own blood. “Hey, everyone needs a wildcard. Keeps things spicy! But fine, fine. I can take a hint. You’ve got your classy, poker-playing life here with…well,” he gestured towards you with a nod. “Guess I’ll just have to move on.”

You leaned down, giving Wade a sweet but pointed smile. “Good luck with that.”

Wade looked back and forth between the two of you, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Oh, I get it. Lovebirds, bound by fate and poker chips. Don’t mind me, I’ll just let myself out.”

With a dramatic flourish, Wade turned around, pulling a strange, glowing device from his belt. He tapped a button, and a swirling golden doorway appeared in front of him. He looked over his shoulder one last time, winking at you. “If you change your mind, Patch, you know where to find me.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Not a chance.”

As Wade stepped through the doorway, disappearing into the glowing portal, you took another sip of champagne, shaking your head. “Was he for real?”

Logan scoffed, watching the portal close with a quiet hum. “I have no idea. Don’t care to find out, either.”

The room settled, the quiet returning along with the glares of the other players, who clearly wanted nothing more than to get back to their poker game.

You gave him a look. “If you think you’re getting out of replacing this, you’ve got another thing coming.”

Logan chuckled, leaning in to kiss the corner of your mouth. “Wouldn’t dream of it, darlin’.”

[mischievous-thunder]

Meanwhile an excited Wade listening in on the conversation amongst the Loganberries: