#patch wolverine x reader

[nanivinsmoke]

❥ DADDY’S DEALINGS

patch!wolverine (logan) x fem!reader

summary ❥ dont fuck with him while he’s working. you knew that, but what happens when you try to fuck on him during work?

warnings: telekinetic reader & code name is diamond, mentions of blood, semi-public sex (in an empty casino), multiple orgasms, creampies, hair pulling, choking, spanking, teasing, rough sex

note: round two, enjoy! wc: 2.7k, m.list here

men in suits sat at the round poker table. laughing, smoking and having a grand ole time. it seemed like a regular poker night with friends, however it was not. all these men were successful businessmen, but one of them was tonight’s target.

and the two of you were here to uncover who that was. patch sat at the table, keeping a blank face while playing the game. however, he was really reading the room. trying to find one slip up so he could take whomever out.

and he couldn’t do it alone, that’s why you were here. you were the distraction, a man’s weakness was a beautiful woman and that you were. the ruby red spaghetti strapped dress clung to you like another set of skin, catching the eyes of the men in there when you walked in. the gleam of your jewelry blinded them, but the scent of your perfume as you passed by only made them want you even more.

you sat at the bar, ordering something light, not wanting anything to get you drunk, but enough to give you a little buzz. you turned in your and watched the game of poker progress, while glancing at patch.

he looked so good sitting there. muscles flexing each time he moved a chip, thick fingers covered in rings—which you wished were deep inside of you, splitting you open—and the eyepatch that was slapped across his face and covered one of his beautiful hazel eyes; still made him even more sexier than ever.

you couldn’t help but to press your thighs together, mind starting to cloud with lewd thoughts of him bottoming out inside of you. until you were snapped out of your daze by the bartender handing you your drink.

you sighed, sipping on the fruity drink you ordered and taking in your surroundings, hoping the target for tonight’s mission would fuck up and show themselves; so you could finally go home and have hot sweaty sex with patch.

however, as time passed, you realized you were going to be here for a while. the game still went on and nobody moved an inch, boring you to death. but, as you sipped on your third drink for the night, you were hornier than ever. you were dripping, aching for some attention and you were going to get it.

the mission was far from your mind as you got up from the bar and sashayed over to the table, standing between patch and another gentleman , before bending over—your cleavage catching the attention of the other man, while your presence gained the attention of your partner. “mind if i join in?” you asked and the stranger got up from his seat in a hurry.

“you can take my spot miss. im losing anyways,” you smiled and sat down, taking his spot and looking down at your cards. you could feel patch boring holes into your face, but you paid him no mind. you knew you weren’t supposed to interfere with his mission unless he wanted you to, but you didn’t care. you had your own mission to worry about.

“you look a little empty there, can i buy you a refill?” you asked him, leaning over to get in his personal space, so you could whisper in his ear. “ ‘m horny. take me home?”

he glared at you before throwing out one of his cards, “no. busy, working.” you whined and sat back in your chair, following suit and throwing out cards as well. you flagged down a waiter and ordered a margarita, telling him to keep it coming before trying to focus on the game in front of you.

however, the more you sat next to him the more aroused you became. it didn’t help that his cologne turned you on, you wanted to pounce on him right then and there. you slid your heeled foot next to his, teasing him by rubbing it against him—only for him to pull his away. he grunted in response, but never turning to look at you.

you weren’t going to give up either. using your powers, you made the waiter bringing your drink, trip causing him to crash into another waiter, making a big commotion; which distracted the other players. using this as an opportunity to speak to him again, you whispered in his ear—voice soft and sexy.

“please, fuck me. need you so bad” he could smell how bad you wanted him, the moment you sat down, but he didn’t have time for that right now. a new scent took over his nose and he glanced around the room, spotting an older man walking in the room; with two girls on each of his arms and two guards behind him. “they’re here. focus.”

by now the waiter had cleaned up his mess and came back with a fresh drink, handing it to you and apologizing for the first one. you sent him a smile before dismissing him, sipping on the cold drink—watching the new player join the game. he sat across from you and you flashed him a smile, immediately gaining his attention.

the male whispered to his guards, before one of them came over to you. “the gentleman over there wants to know if you could sit next to you and could he buy you another drink?” you glanced at him and he winked. smiling at him, you nodded your head and the guy made his way over; dismissing the women.

he sat next to you and you smiled, taking a look at every detail of his face. he was attractive and you couldn’t help smirk to yourself. you knew exactly how to get patch to pay attention towards you.

“what can I get you to drink?” he asked and you slightly turned towards him, putting out the last of your cards, losing the game. “scotch, on the rocks.”

he smiled in amusement, not many of the girls he came across liked dark liquors. “not good at poker?” you shook your head and he smiled, motioning for the dealer to bet him in. “i’ll teach a pretty lil thing like you how to play. name's richard, but you can call me, dick.”

“diamond,” you moved your chair closer to his, glancing over at patch an evil glint in your eyes. you were playing a dangerous game and you were ready for the consequences. as he taught you how to play, patch watched with a clench jaw. he wanted to rip the guys head off for even talking to you, but he knew what was at stake. all he needed was the guy to touch you and he’d take him out right then and there.

“got a boyfriend diamond?”

“complicated,” that slipped off your tongue too fast for patch’s liking, making him grunt loudly, gaining the attention of dick. “is there a problem?”

“focus on the game, bub.” dick chuckled and stared at patch, wondering who the hell he was. and before he could fix his mouth to say something, your drinks came; gaining his attention. you thanked the waiter and held up your glass, lipstick spreading when you smiled.

“you gonna teach me or what?” you got up from your seat, the frame of your body being outlined by your dress, made his breath get caught in his throat—eyes glued to every curve, watching as you sat down on his lap. the way you sat gave you full view of patch, who was seething. and when dick placed his hand on your hip, he had enough. he jumped up, claws unsheathing, sticking them into richard’s guards—their blood splattering against his white suit.

the people in the private casino scurried away in a hurry, trying to make sure they’re not next to get taking out. more of dick’s guards came running in, guns in their hands, ready to attack—until you appeared in front of them. “sorry boys, you’re not getting through.” you sent them flying into the other room, crashing against the slot machines; knocking them out cold. and for good measure, you picked one up and dropped it on them.

one’s that slipped past were slice up by patch, their bodies dropping at dick’s patent shoes. patch huffed, eyes glued onto richard’s.

“you fucking b—.” his head was sliced clean off, dropping next to the pile of bodies. the rugged man didn’t have time for monologues, he was pissed. pissed at you. the people that were still hiding in the room, peeked their heads out; hoping that it was safe, yet there were proven wrong by the feral looking man in front of them.

“GET THE FUCK OUT!” his claws retracted and they all ran out, not trying to be the next person to piss him off. you tried sneaking out with them, only for him to grab you, slinking you over his shoulder. “baby! wait—fuck!” he said nothing and sent a hard smack to your ass, the vibration from it made the stinging sensation linger a little longer. oh you were in for it.

he slapped everything off of the poker table before propping you up on there, your hands and knees pressing into the plush green surface. he hiked your dress up to the middle of your back, grunting when he seen the wet spot in the middle of your black panties. with another powerful smack to your ass, you yelped out, only for him to grip your hair—pulling you towards his chest.

“like having that jerk feel up on you. he makes you wet?” his hand massaged your cheeks, easing the stinging sensation he caused. you whimpered and shook your head, “no baby—only you.”

he slapped both of your cheeks, the wet spot on your panties growing by the second as he took his frustrations out on you. it was one thing to try and sabotage the mission, he’d deal with that later, but to sit on another man’s lap in front of him? oh you deserved this punishment.

you were practically drooling, from both sets of lips, while he continued the torment on your ass—his hand prints now molded on your cheeks. he moved his hand from your hair and slid it down to your cunt, pressing two of his fingers against your clit; your slick immediately seeping through the fabric and onto his fingers.

he grunted and massaged his finger on your clit, eliciting whines from you. you backed your ass up in his palm, trying to add some more friction to your cunt, but he stopped you.

“ ‘m in charge here, doll.” you could hear the clinking of his belt buckle and it excited you. from the way he manhandle you and forced your back down, deepening your arch, you knew he was going to fuck you so good.

your panties were pulled down, exposing your bare—slick coated cunt to him and he let out a low groan. he took your panties and brought it up to his nose, smelling your arousal; his cock becoming stiff behind his boxers—before he reached around and placed them into your mouth.

your moans were muffled as you turned your head slightly to see him pull his underwear down, revealing his fat beer can shaped cock. he fisted his cock for a bit, globs of his precum coating his hand, before he pushed through your entrance; your juices coating his dick immediately.

he didn’t even need to prep you to take him, you were beyond soaked, making it easier for him to slide ride in—rubbing right against your spot. “fuck. gotta keep this pussy to myself.”

you moaned into your panties, while he gripped the side of your hips and began to pound your pussy, splitting you open with each stroke. your ass rippled against him and you struggled to throw it back on him, causing him to smack one of your plump cheeks.

“f-fuck me back…..atta girl,” you started to bounce back on him, the poker table shaking with each thrust. your eyes rolled back into your head, the pleasure so unspeakably intense. he knew exactly how to hit your spot with each thrust, which made your legs shake uncontrollably and an orgasm course through you prematurely.

he felt you clench around him and he stopped his movements, pulling out of you slowly; your bottom lip trembling as you turned to look at him. “did you just fucking cum?” you nodded and his eyes darkened. before you could even process what was happening, you were on your back with ankles pointing up to the ceiling.

the red dress that was hiked up was now on the bar not too far away from you both, and your soiled panties were finally removed from your mouth, allowing you to finally moan freely, as he plunged back into your sopping wet cunt.

he was abusing your cunt each time his cock pistoned in and out of you, cock bullying your walls, sending bolts of electricity towards your clit. you reached down and tried to rub the sensitive bud, but he slapped your hands away causing you to cry out. “nope. you wanted this dick, so that’s what you’re gonna get. got it?” you nodded your pretty little head, earning a powerful smack to your cunt—making you gush around him.

“words. i wanna hear it.”

“yes! yes! fuck—daddy. you’re so deep!” rough calloused hand found its way around your throat, turning you on even more. the look on his face, the way his cock filled you up and how he treated you like his fuck toy, had you wanting more.

the squelching sound that followed when he was balls deep inside of you, made that knot in your stomach become tighter. you were so close and with him twitching inside of you, you knew he was too.

with the help of your powers, you brought him closer to you. his white, blood stained blazer pressed against your breasts, adding some stimulation to your tender nipples; which helped speed up your orgasm. you whimpered, staring into his uncovered eye, cumming for the second time; without him.

specks of white blurred your vision as you came undone. the grip around his shaft, tightening with each thrust that hit your spot over and over again.

he was pissed. first you tried to ruin the mission and had some guy all over you, but now you came twice? oh he was more than pissed.

his grip around your neck loosened and he moved his hand up to your cheeks, gripping them; causing them to puff up in his hands. his stroke was faster and deeper, practically kissing your cervix—making you whine out.

“ ‘s too much! please daddy, can’t take it.” you were able to huff out, but he ignored your pleas, still treating you like a common slut.

“gonna breed this pussy. have you dripping cum for days when im done with you—let everyone know who owns this pussy.” he pounded deeper, his vision getting blurry and his stroke becoming sloppier; before he let go—emptying himself deep inside of you.

he let out a primal growl, sporadically twitching inside of you, before pulling out, globs of his cum slowly starting to pool out; until he plugged it back in with his fingers. you squirmed, but he held you down, making you take the extra pleasure—leading to squirting against his palm.

the wet gushy mess, combined with the previous fluids, stained the plush green fabric underneath you and the bottom of his blazer. patch removed his fingers and sucked your juices off, before he pulled his pants up and snapped his belt on. he pulled your panties back on and walked over to the bar to retrieve your dress, tossing it at you.

“get dressed. you’re punishment isn't over yet.”

[freak-accident419]

‘the patch stays on’

Logan Howlett x Reader

(18+ SMUT PATCH!LOGAN HOWLETT x GN!READER)

Summary: Ever since you saw Logan, your boyfriend, in disguise for his mission in Madripoor, you couldn’t stop thinking about him fucking your brains out. Luckily, when you finally get the chance in your hotel room, you have but one special request for him.

Word Count: 2.1k

Content: 18+ SMUT, MDNI, gender-neutral reader, no pronouns for reader, no specific genitals assigned to reader, no use of Y/n, swearing, oral (r!receiving), unprotected penetration, creampie, missionary, riding

(A/n: me when i come back to write a wolverine oneshot… dedicated to @silverskyeline + @stop-talking, my fellow wolverine enjoyers ❤️ to everyone, I hope you enjoy, patch is one of my most favorite wolverine variants. based on/is a combo of both comics and movies. happy reading!)

-

The X-Men were presumed dead by the public. Gone from the face of the earth without a trace. And just for now, the uncanny team of mutants would continue to stay low and hidden, planning to keep it that way.

Naturally, of course, this also included the Wolverine. James Howlett. Logan. Weapon X. Kuzuri. Your lover. Despite having several aliases, in which one of the many would be a hostile sputter of ‘freak’, they would all seem to dissolve by the time he arrived in Madripoor. No, for there was only one name he would go by in this crime-ridden, neon city for the sake of lying low. And it was Patch.

Considering his unique X-Men uniform that incorporated the use of a mask, his full face would be barely recognizable to any of the inhabitants of this foreign island. All he had to do was to wear a classy suit and put on an eyepatch to create a new identity while fitting in with the locals.

In your case, you’d never been on the news or the front cover of a paper, despite your mutant status and affiliation with the X-Men. For quite some time, you worked as a scientist alongside Dr. Hank McCoy at the X-Mansion, while also working as an academics teacher for the mutant students at the school. You were reserved and intelligent, preferring to focus on your studies rather than fight as an X-Man amongst your friends.

Therefore, not being a famous X-Man meant that nobody would recognize you in Madripoor, so you didn’t need a disguise and only needed to wear elegant clothing to blend in. You were still precautioned to lay low and make your presence discreet, however.

Additionally, the trip there was long and even a bit tense, considering Logan’s crumbling fear of flying, which you attempted to soothe. For the most part, you were able to calm his nerves and himself down.

He wasn’t very fond of the idea of you tagging along either, taking into account the ubiquitous danger of the island, but you insisted. You could handle yourself, and even help him scope out the several crime operations he sought to terminate in the first place. That had been the main reason behind this mission anyways.

Not to mention, you’d been crudely compelled to come with Logan on this mission, especially after seeing him put on that ‘disguise’. Watching him step out in an all-white, three-piece suit, paired with a contrasting black bowtie and eyepatch, gave you some sort of awakening. In retrospect, it was almost comical, if you weren’t so severely blinded by your own lust at the time.

Frankly, you could even say that you jumped his adamantium bones the second you got settled into the hotel. With heavy breaths and desperate touches, your lips moved with his passionately in a deep kiss. Your fingers tangled in his brown, now-messy hair as your bodies sunk down into the plush mattress.

“What’s gotten into you, bub?” He nearly chuckles, almost teasingly as you nipped at his neck quickly.

“I just—“ you pant, cutting yourself off with a breathy laugh as you feel the embarrassment of your hastiness kick in. “I don’t know if it’s the suit or the eyepatch—hell, maybe both—but fuck, it’s making me go crazy.” You felt your body heat up the more you thought about it; his dapper, white suit, the smooth cuffs concealing his wrists, the emphasis on his veiny hands.

Shit. You wanted him to take you with all of it on.

Well… Maybe with just the eyepatch on, at least.

“Mm, yeah?” Logan hums lowly as you two continued to make out, resulting in your voices turning hesitant and shaky. “You’re actually turned on by this, baby?” And before you could even reply, he flipped your bodies over so that your back was now pressed against the bed with Logan hovering over you. His eyes looked both sensual and predatory, eager to feel your skin on his, just like the many times he had in the past.

Logan’s hands ran down your clothed body in a firm, yet worshipping manner, soon removing all of your clothing until you were half naked. You hummed softly in pleasure as you felt his slow hands palm your heat through your underwear, his lips nipping teasingly at your thighs. His hot caresses continued for a while, him adding more pressure with his hand until you let out a quiet, impatient whine, hips slightly flexing upwards.

Affectionately, he kissed at the center of your underwear before slipping his fingers under the elastic waistband, pulling them down your bare legs, past your ankles, and off of your body completely, discarding the futile cloth onto the ground. The cold air met with your naked crotch, which would soon be replaced by Logan’s close, hot breaths.

You shivered with arousal, feeling his arms hook under your legs, hands gripping your thighs as you saw his head positioned between them. The sight of him fully clothed in his white suit and eyepatch while you were completely nude in front of him made you feel so lustful and needy.

“Mmm…” Logan hummed simply as his tongue poked out to give kitten licks against your flesh. A quiet gasp left your mouth in awe as the little action caused you to feel so much already. Then, your breath hitched as his tongue worked stronger, taking you into his mouth as he tasted you and your arousal.

You began to moan softly, hearing his lewd, wet kisses and suctions as his hand moved to spread your thighs wider. “Ahh—Logan—!” You cry in pleasure, hand moving down to grip his hair in your hand. Your lover groaned in satisfaction, your addictive taste leaving his thoughts and vision hazy, sending vibrations to your core. To Logan, your moans were some pure form of aphrodisiac, and he only ever wanted to hear more.

He continued for a while, using his mouth expertly on you as he has for years, his single eye now looking up at you through his eyelashes as he pulls away slowly. Logan, the passionate lover he was, wanted to take as much time as you both needed, to extend this moment of bliss and sexual pleasure. Therefore, he couldn’t let you cum yet.

As he smirked from hearing your playful, desperate whine, he sat up on the bed and took off his blazer, working to undo his bowtie. His hand then reached for his eyepatch until you immediately stopped him with your assertion:

“Wait,” you firmly interject, “the patch stays on.”

A wide grin appeared on Logan’s lips with amusement, now averting his attention down to his button up and pants, taking off every single article of clothing and covering. Except for the eyepatch you requested for him to neglect, of course.

“You do know I can’t see shit with this thing on, right?” He exaggerates with a chuckle, almost mocking your decision for him to keep the accessory. You didn’t know what it was that made it so appealing to you. Perhaps it was the sexy mysteriousness to it that made your boyfriend seem even more badass than he was. Either way—

“I don’t fucking care,” you retort, grabbing the back of his neck to pull him down towards yourself, crashing his lips against yours. You could argue absolutely nothing could interfere with how astonishingly he could fuck you.

As Logan hesitantly broke the kiss, he lined up his body with yours, your legs remaining spread out on each side of his body while he made sure you were prepped. His hands were flat on the pillows beside your head, looking down at you with lust. Finally, and slowly, he pushed his cock through your entrance, gradually stretching your inner walls.

“Mmm… Ahh…” You would moan softly, looking up at him with hooded eyes and a flustered expression as he then pushed in completely, hips meeting with yours. He moaned almost simultaneously, feeling your satisfying tightness around him. Logan pecked your lips once, letting you adjust to his size before he started moving in and out.

“Oh—Ah—!” You whimper as his pace grows faster, hearing him grunt as his cock began to thrust fluidly inside of you, letting his firm pelvis grind against your sensitive flesh at the same time. The combined sensations felt extraordinary.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby,” he mutters swiftly, rocking his hips at a steady rate against yours, letting his slick length massage and caress your walls. He made sure to move in as deep as he could, desperate to hit every spot that makes you feel good. His hands moved off the pillows to grip your hips tightly, holding you down, “you’re so fuckin’ perfect, sweetheart. Feels amazin’…”

Logan’s arms now hooked under yours, meeting your lips to kiss you passionately as he fucked you sensually. You moaned against his mouth as you felt him become faster, sensing his animalistic instinct to become rougher with you. “Oh! M—Logan!” You whined as his cock continued to ram in and out of your entrance, the contact eliciting wet, lewd sounds of flesh slapping rapidly against flesh.

Feeling your walls begin to pulse and tighten, indicating your closeness, Logan pulled out, making you complain once more.

“Need you to ride me. Can you do that for me, sweetness?” He asks roughly, pressing soft kisses to your neck as if an apology for the abrupt stop. You felt a physical reaction in your body at his lustful words, watching his uncovered eye stare you down with both love and sin. Then you nodded.

The two of you changed positions on the bed, hearing the soft sound of sheets shifting as you climbed onto Logan’s lap. Your hands touched his shoulders, but then moved to cup his face in your palms, stroking his cheeks gently. Pressing a deep kiss to his lips, you moved one hand down to grip his cock, lining it up with your hole. Both of your breaths faltered as you sank down on him, feeling the same sensation as before. The angle change, however, somehow made everything feel so much more pleasant.

“Fuck…” you groan, hands on his shoulders as you began to rock your hips against his. Logan’s hands explored and traveled across your body to feel the warmth of your skin under his palms. His fingers moved with such purpose, akin to playing an elegant harp. You two panted heavily as you started off slow for a while, until you gradually sped up once you practically began bouncing on his thick cock.

“Ah! Ahh! Oh!” You cry, hearing Logan let out small grunts and moans as well, while you fucked yourself on his lap. His hands moved to grip your hips, fingernails digging deep into the your skin to assist your movements. His hands pushed you up and down his dick, letting you feel him stroke your insides.

“Mm—” he grunts as he mutters your name in admiration, thrusting his hips up to increase the sensitivity and speed. “Fuck!” Logan groans, looking up at you with arousal as you kept moving.

You felt your body begin to squirm and tense up, knowing that you were getting closer and closer to your well-anticipated climax. Based on Logan’s panting, grunts, and stuttered hip movements, you could tell he was close as well.

“Mmm—Mm—I—I’m gonna cum,” you whine, holding him close to your body with your arms as your hips kept moving to pursue the final, euphoric sensation.

“Ngh—Me too. Me too, baby. C’mon… Cum for me,” he gently orders under his breath before you felt your muscles clench, walls tightening as you reached your powerful orgasm.

“Mmm—Ahh!” You whine in deep pleasure, feeling the knot in your stomach untangle with euphoria. Your fingernails dug deep into his back, nearly scratching down his skin as your entire body quivered. Logan releases immediately right after, groaning your name as he cums deep inside of you, letting his warm, white seed shoot through and paint your fleshy walls. Your hips moved slowly onto his cock as you two rode out your sensitive, shared orgasm.

You both panted softly and you whined gently as you moved up, feeling Logan’s cock slowly slide out of you, now sitting on his lap normally. You could feel his cum begin to drip out of you already. Your hands caressed his face before you lift his eyepatch up against his forehead, finally seeing both of his loving, intimate eyes. Your lips moved against his in a gentle, passionate kiss that marked the end of your lovemaking.

You were usually clingy at the end of sex, as you would frequently hold onto him like a koala. So there you were, with your arms embracing him tightly, as if he would disappear the very second you let go. Logan stroked your skin affectionately, basking in the afterglow of the beautiful moment.

“So, don’t get me wrong,” you mumble, still merely exhausted, “I love your eyes, but… the eyepatch is just… so fuckin’ sexy. Especially with the white suit, just—everything…”

Logan chuckled humorously at your confession, pressing several gentle kisses on your shoulder.

“Mm? Well, get used to it, bub. We’re gonna be here for a while,” he smirks as he positioned the two of you to lay down beside each other on the bed.

“Oh, I know I will,” you giggle softly, burying your face in his sweat-stained neck.

[on1knee4marksmen]

Gala Glamour

Patch x fem! reader drabble

Quick little drabble because I saw this post and I burst out laughing

I fear this cannot be read as platonic💔 (but knowing myself I'll probably write a platonic fic with the gala experience in the future)

Reader being madly in love and thirsting as a whole lol. Just a tad bit suggestive (?) but it's for the giggles, nothing serious!! So sfw :)

Fem presenting reader

Envisioning Marvel Rivals Logan, specifically his Patch skin >:)

Tonight is the night. The one night a year where you get to fully immerse yourself and stop worrying. Fully take in the flashing lights, the official, fancy setting you seldom get to enjoy. To try to grow used to the cameras, the many people. To see old friends and form new connections. To eat and drink, dance and laugh. To have a good time.

The Hellfire Gala.

Now, usually, you weren't ecstatic about big social events - you'd much rather go somewhere with a small group of friends. But today? Oh, today, you were practically vibrating with excitement.

You didn't get to doll yourself up much anymore - with the constant missions you were on, plus the eventual "babysitting" of the students, you didn't have much time for yourself. Hence why you were going all out for tonight.

...Hence why you were running a liiiitle late.

Your couldn't help it - from an everything shower, to consultations with Storm about jewelry that goes with your dress, to doing heatless curls, to makeup, to packing a bag - you got caught up a bit. And you were still at the makeup part...

...You were still at the makeup part when you felt your phone buzz beside you on the table. When you looked down, you saw something that didn't happen often - Logan was texting you.

Now, Logan didn't really... well, go hand-to-hand with new technology. So you were more used to him calling you.

...But you were for sure intrigued when you saw the notification:

- New messages (2): -----------------------

Lo<3

where ya at with the prep darlin?? you ready soon?

1 attachment "which bowtie matches your dress better"

------------------------------------------------

Awww,he was purposefully matching his bowtie with your dress?? You might've just fallen even deeper in love with him at that very moment. With a warmth in your chest and a smile on your face, you hit the notification to see the attachment - presumably a picture of said bowties.

...

It was not a picture of only the bowties.

What you saw when you opened the attachment made your heart stop beating and your jaw drop. Logan. Your Logan. The same Logan that owns one pair of jeans and a thousand different wife pleasers and flannels. In a suit.

A mirror pic of your man in a white suit, looking like it was made for him with the way it defines his body and features, with black dress pants, with his hair tidied and slicked back just a little, yet keeping its iconic shape and kind of scruffy vibe. With one eye covered with an eye patch, the other looking down at his reflection in a focused, almost intense way, - that makes you bite your lip - with one hand holding the phone horizontally, in an awkward position, trying to catch everything in the photo, and with the other hand holding two bowties up to his neck. Both in shades of the colour of your dress?

...

And you're expected to react civilly to that??

You don't realise how much time you've taken to just... stare and gawk in awe at that one singular picture, until you see a new message pop up:

Lo<3: darlin?

Next thing you know, you've forgotten any makeup brush and any contour that needs fixing - you're hastily grabbing your phone to text back:

You: Hold on hun, I'm almost there

Lo<3 is typing...

You: And I don't mean at your doorstep ;)

[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.

[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.”

[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’.”

[samfunko]

excellent use of my free will to make my own hugh-patch funko pop

[justevelynnnn]

I’ll always love you.

Pairing: Logan howlett x reader

Summary: Logan has a nightmare and hurts you in his sleep. This is a short story of that and the aftermath.

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of blood, Logan stabbed you in your sleep, Profanity, Cigar smoking, mention of the scene where wolverine gets his adamantium skeleton. (Written with fem!reader in mind but no she/her pronouns are used or feminine features are mentioned)

A/N: this started off as a drabble but tbh it got a bit longer than i expected so 😭 but anyway, i love this plot so of coursee, my turn!

He was in the tank again.

It was the same nightmare every other week. Or, one of them. But this was the worst one of them all.

Suffocating. Confused. Scared?

He felt it all again.

He could never, ever describe what metal covering your skeleton feels like but it’s a horrible, disgusting feeling.

As he rose and roared angrily from the water, tubes fell out his body. He gets hit with a bullet to the head and he fiercely turns to the source, growling animalistically. There are more gun shots as he jumped out, screaming. Oh, and of course…Fucking Stryker.

Stryker. Stryker. Stryker.

Of course, the nightmare version of this event is more intense feeling. His heart was racing. His mind. His feet. Adrenaline is pumping through his veins. Everything is on fire.

Then suddenly, he’s in a dark room.

Still yelling and thrashing, he doesn’t stop until he comes to finally seconds later. Oh, it was a nightmare. Not real. Though, the screams still echo in his head.

And then he hears a soft, “Logan….”

He looks down.

You’re laying there, under him. There are tears in your eyes as you held his…wrists with..his claws…in…your….sides..

His heart drops. Blood runs cold. He feels like he’s gonna be sick.

Shit. Shit shit shit shit fuck fuck fuck-

He mouths, “No…no no no…”

“Logan, it’s okay. It’s okay, you’re…” A pained groan from you interrupted yourself. “…okay. I’m here.”

He frantically pulls his claws out and sits there, looking at you in pure horror. Heart pounding still as guilt washed over him. Consuming his entire soul.

Luckily, for the both of you, you also had a healing factor..just not as good as his…it took twice as long for you to heal.

But you were prepared for this moment anyways. You knew one day…he’d wake up like this. That you’d wake up like this. You practiced what you would say and do. Remain calm and ground him. Remind him he’s okay and that you two are far from any enemies.

Logan looked at the blood covering his hands once he unsheathed his claws. Looked at you once more and then back at his own hands.

“I’m already healing, Logan. It’s gonna be okay. It was an accident.” You sit up in bed, even though it was horribly painful still, and rub his shoulders trying to relax him.

“..i…i..hurt you.” He softly said looking into your eyes.

“It was an accident.”

“I hurt you. I fucking hurt you.”

“You didn’t mean to, Lo.”

He bit his lip, holding back a sob. Still, a tear escaped his eye.

You hugged him solfty, not minding the sweat covering his skin and clothes, and rubbed his back.

“I’m sorry…i’m sorry baby i-“

You hear him finally break down a bit as his voice hitched. You rub his back more telling him it’s okay. You’re okay.

“I know, you’d never do it on purpose Logan…i forgive you. Look, I’m already halfway healed…it won’t even scar..” You pull back and gently held his face and kiss his forehead.

He sighed.

“Wanna stay up with me? Wash the sheets and sit outside a bit?” You smiled.

He nods. “I’m so sorry.”

You don’t respond as you get out of bed, pain on your sides quickly fading. You pull him with you and you both start pulling off the blood soaked sheets quietly.

Once everything is in the washer you sit with him on the couch in the dark, cuddled next to him as he smoked a cigar to calm his nerves.

“That was my worst nightmare.” He said softly as he took a long drag.

“I know..but i know you didnt mean too. You’ve been through a lot it was bound to happen at some point… and plus, i’m better now..”

“I…I dunno why you put up with me.”

“Because I love you. ‘Cause i know deep down you have a good soul.”

He huffed at this and smiled as he said, “Love, huh?”

“Yes, love. All of it. Your scars, your personality, just…you.”

Silence filled the room once more. He put the cigar out and laid it on the table then looked away.

“I’m just..scared. Of losing you. Are you sure? About us? This? I don’t want to hurt you anymore…i-“

“Logan, look at me.”

He turned to face you. Face unreadable as usual but you knew he felt worry.

“I’ll never leave you. And i’m so sure about us. 100%. You don’t have to be scared of anything considering that anymore. Okay? I’ll always love you.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment but then he closed the distance. Hugging you tightly. A soft thank you came from him moments later.

That night you two fell asleep on the couch in each others arms.

[darylsfavoritegirl]

ᥫ᭡ date nights with logan

⭑pictures are from pinterest

[freak-accident419]

hrnggg what if i wrote for patch then what…

hes so sexy i need him so bad i gotta write for him fuck

[trenchcoathunnybee08]

Head canon: Logan actually knows how to dance and he’s really good. He knows a bunch of different types too. He doesn’t tell anyone, not because he’s embarrassed, (he’d happily show Scott up if given the chance) it’s just he’s never wanted to dance at the same time as being around the others.

Most of the time when there a party with music worth dancing to it’s some special occasion. The music is normally slow like waltz or something and it’s just not his style.

Once he’s comfortable wherever he’s at, that be Worst Wolverine once he’s in Wades timeline, Origins Logan with Kayla, or original trilogy Logan once he’s happy being at the mansion, he go out.

On those nights where he stays out late he isn’t always spending them drinking. He finds himself a good bar with good music and a pretty lady (or guy if he’s feeling up for it) and takes to the dance floor.

None of the X-Men find out till they’re throwing Storm a birthday party and she asks him for a dance herself. He happily accepts and everyone is absolutely flabbergasted when they see him actually doing well.

I think with Worst Logan Laura knew because she found out from someone else that her Logan used to dance a lot before the accident and he went into hiding. During one of Wades parties she gets ahold of the ox cord and starts playing bachata or something like that. (She learned with the other kids after they got out from Transagin) Somehow she convinces Logan to dance with her and Wade accidentally flips his shit when he notices. It’s so extreme that he won’t shut up about it and drags Logan to a bar down the street that he clames all his Mexican friends say is great. (His only Mexican friend is Laura and a couple of the kids on the block she’s made friends with.)

Origins Logan I almost think met Kayla at some bar. It’s like one of those movie moments where he sees her dancing and he just can’t look away. One thing leads to another and what started as them dancing together on the weekends turned to him head over heels for her.

Another idea (I don’t actually know much about this one) but Patch/ Logan in Madrapor would totally dance Salsa or super dramatic Ball room. Something attention grabbing. Nobody assumes The Wolverine, Weapon X would be able let alone willing to dance. Ever. When the others find out about that part of his cover he says it’s just to make it harder for people to spot him. In reality Madrapor has insanely good live music and it would be a crime to not dance to it.

Anyway that’s the end of my rant. I’d actually love to see someone write a fic for this.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

I'm tempted to write something for Patch since he's the one I haven't written for yet lol

[lostinlovingrevery]

HEYY VANNN 💗

I heard you wanted to talk about Logan and I gotchu 👀😉

So I was thinking about Logan and what his reaction would be to seeing you in something of his. And I know I’d steal all those mans shirts but what about something else to get a rise out of Logan?? Like going to bed in his boxers OR meeting up for a date night and you show up with wearing his favorite belt buckle he swore he lost with the tightest jeans you have on that you know will make him go feral. I feel each Logan variant has a different vibe so you can take item(s) of his and he sees you wearing that and it’s OVER 😏 I have thoughts for a few but would love to hear what you think!💞

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!! DAMI THIS IS BRILLIANT!!!

I absolutely LOVE this idea. the belt buckle is so cute!!! I feel like he would tug you forward with them- looping his finger around your belt, staring down at it before looking at you, and calling you a little thief <3

Thank you for sending this in!!! <3 <3, I hope you enjoy!!

Logan Variants Reacting to You Taking His Stuff!

(slightly smutty, fluffy, and slightly angsty stuff below!)

Trilogy Logan: He crossed his arms, taking in the sight before him.

His dogtags, sitting pretty right in the valley of your breasts.

He was showering, heard you come in for a second- didn't pay too much attention to that. Was half tempted to tell you to join him- but considering he was almost finished washing up, and the water was getting cold, hell just join you in bed instead.

When he climbed out- his dogtags that just happened to be taken off with his clothes for once when he showered was missing. He checked all over the bathroom- even stared in the mirror to make sure he didn't go insane and it was still around his neck, but found that it was not the case.

He swears he didn't take it off in the bedroom- but as he opened the door to step into yours and his shared room, the mystery was quickly solved.

You were leaning against the headboard, posed in a sensual position, a big smile stretched across your face as his eyes trailed over your nude figure. Finally landing on the dogtags. He could make out his name on them.

He dropped the towel, letting you see what he thought of your little trick- and your new sense of fashion as he walked towards the bed, kneeling onto the end of it- his member at full attention for you.

"Now, that's a good look for you sweetheart." He mumbles low as he leans over you, fingers coming up to trace over the tags.

"sure you don't want them back?" You teased.

"Nah, keep em. Let everyone know who you belong to."

Origins Logan: You stole, yet another one of his flannels.

He'd be irritated, if he could. Yet, they look better on you anyway.

Especially when you're walking around in nothing, but his flannels.

It happens at the most random of moments too. Usually he's home after a long day at work. He sheds his clothes off, changes into sweats and a clean t-shirt before settling down somewhere to read, relax, watch tv. You'll be off doing your own thing, he'll distinctly remember you wearing a pair of boot-cut jeans and a tank top.

Then suddenly you're walking past him, an hour later- not even socks or panties on you as his flannel practically swallows you. He used to say something about it, tease you, make a joke- but now he smirks, catches a glance of your ass, barely hidden by the hem, before returning to his newspaper.

Eventually you'll end up in his lap. He's frumping over the stolen cloth, and you'll make a sweet pout and tell him that it smells soooo good that you couldn't help it. Smells just like him.

"Yeah princess? That's why you like it so much?" He'll smile, his hands tucking underneath the flannel, brushing over your bare skin as his eyes wander down- admiring the way your chest is barely concealed from him. You bit your lip, and nodded. "Hm." He tipped his chin up to look at you. "Alright. Keep it on, but you'll have to do something for me."

Old Man Logan: "Darling? You seen my glasses-?"

He stopped when he finally spotted you in the kitchen- trying on the glasses that he'd been looking for, for the last 20 minutes. He hated the damn things, hated how old they made him feel. Perfect vision for nearly 200 years and now he needs them. Really?

The only thing that keeps him from smashing the damn things is you cooing in his ear about how cute he looks.

A small guilty look on your face as he crossed his arms, raising a brow at you, and you smiled. Your hands dropped to your side, leaving the glasses sitting on your face.

"Got a reason to be stealing my glasses, doll?" He asks, feigning annoyance- but he could never really be angry with you.

"I just wanted to see what it looked like with your glasses" You answer innocently.

"And?"

"You look fuzzy."

He smiles, looking down at the floor, before moving forward into the kitchen towards you. "Real cute sweetheart." He coos. Reaching up, he pulled the glasses off you. "There. Better?"

"Kinda."

You reached for his glasses, taking them from his hands, flipping them over and putting them on. It slips a bit on the bridge of his nose, and he tipped his chin down to look at you past them. You smiled.

"Now, it's better." You wrapped your arms around his waist. "So handsome."

"Mm." He tipped his chin up again. "I don't know doll, they did look nice on you."

Worst Wolverine: He was half asleep and barely noticed you had them on.

You went to shower, while he watched some old black and white movie on the tv in your shared bedroom. It was boring- and he had seen it before. Granted it was over 100 years ago- but he did see it, and he remembered not liking it then either.

So he started to fall asleep, eyes closed, arm stretched out across your side of the bed. He picked up the sound of the shower shutting off- always alert at what you're doing.

He began to fall deeper into slumber, knowing that you'll be by his side soon. He heard you come in, silence at first- before your quiet shuffling around the room continued. Drawers opening and shutting, and finally you're climbing in bed by his side.

He turned to spoon you, arms wrapping around you protectively. His hands, as usual began wandering over your form. Tracing along your figure- it was a comfort thing for him. A habit he's built over time with you, reassurance that you're still there- that you're okay.

His hands, as usual, moved downwards- where instead of your panties that he has become so familiar with- it was a different fabric.

"Babe." His brows creased together, eyes still shut as his hand continued to investigate what was on your bottom half. "Are these mine?" He finally asks, pinching the fabric between his fingers.

Quiet mirth escaped you. "I thought they looked comfy." You responded. He opened his eyes, pushing himself up onto his elbow to glance at his boxers that were adorning your lower half. You turned your head to look at him.

"Hm." He continued to feel the fabric. "i wanna get a better look at this."

He moved onto his back, urging you to straddle him which you happily did so. He examined you, intensely- like someone examining a piece of art- making sure it was real. You couldn't help but laugh.

"why so intense about it Lo?" You hummed. He chuckled.

"Looks good on you." He says, taking the waistband and snapping it against your hip. "Little big."

"Well, have you see you?"

He smirked. His hands coming down to rub your thighs. The look of his boxers on you- they peaked his interest, they looked good. Really good. It made his mind wander- wonder things like how they may feel after you wear them. Maybe, just maybe if makes you real happy while wearing them- some of you essence will get left behind, staining the cloth.

"Say baby, not too tired are you?"

2013 Wolverine: His old jacket.

The leather jacket he used to wear all the time, back before everything happened. Left it behind when he left the mansion- when he left you.

Not that he wanted to leave you- but he thought it best. He failed you, he failed everyone.

Yet here you were, staring back at him, wrapped in the leather that was a bit too big for you. Looks like it was keeping you warm though. Good, considering the mountains are freezing. He certainly knew that.

"Logan."

Your voice sounded sweet- just as he remembered it.

He wasn't sure how'd he react when he'd see you again, wasn't sure how it'd go. However all he could think was how nice you looked in his jacket.

You pulled it closer around yourself. Seemed like a habit, the way your hands held onto it. He could almost see, by the look in your eyes and the way your fingers held the fabric. Like you were imagining it was him.

"It's time to come home Lo." You say. "I miss you."

He didn't say anything. Just stood there, staring back at you- not quite sure if you were real. Had plenty of strange dreams, saw strange things while living out in the Canadian Rockies. Most of them involved you.

Only one way to be sure.

He walked forward towards you. The snow crunching under his boots. You didn't move, looking at him pleadingly- waiting for his next move.

His arms came around, and pulled you into an embrace. He buried his face into your hair- then down to your neck as he took a deep breath. His jacket- the one he wore religiously for years, now smelled like you.

He wondered if you'd be willing to give it back to him, once you're both back home.

Patch! Logan: "Where is the damn thing...." He mutters quietly under his breath. He was all ready- his sparkling white suit, cleaned and pressed, not a wrinkle in sight. Cuff links, in a shape of a X, pinned to the cuffs of his jacket. His eye patch- set perfectly, as usually. All that was missing was his bowtie.

The damn thing was a bright red. How could he not find it?

He remember taking it off last night- or rather, you took it off. Nearly ripped the damn thing off. Threw it...By the window.

He pushed the furniture around- still unable to find it.

He checked his watch. Couldn't look any longer. He'll have to settle for a regular black bow tie. It's classy sure. His red tie however- he considered it lucky. He needed all the luck he could get tonight.

So there he was, his usual thing, gambling, drinking, spying- eavesdropping.

That's when he spotted you. Pretty thing- as always. Only something.... different.

You were next to the head honcho of the casino- usually are. He likes to parade you around and show you off however you have no interest in the likes of him.

You had that pretty red dress that drives him wild on. The one that hugs your curves, leaves little to the imagination with the slit in the thigh and off the shoulder sleeves and a neckline that reached very low. At the center of neckline, was his bow tie

You must have pinned it there, you little vixen.

You looked bored, until you spotted him in the crowd. The way your face lit up sent butterflies through him- only they melted into something more, as he felt his trousers grow tighter when you brought your hand to the bow tie that sat pretty.

Your boss put his arm around you, unnoticing that your attention was on Logan from across the room.

This guy may act like you belong to him to the public, but you were quietly yet openly wearing the very thing that told Logan,

You belonged to Patch.

Cowboy! Logan: He'd been looking for it all day. Unsure of how he could have lost the damn thing! Took it off during a catnap against a tree, woke up with it gone.

All he knew, is he was going to shoot whoever the hell took it.

Eyed the farm boys who act scared as hell of him- he doubts they would have done it. Hell they pretty much piss themselves if he so much glanced at em.

the lil kids that like to climb all over him- as if he wasn't the most dangerous outlaw in the West- no - The States. They've tried to take his hat more than once after all- but a quick glance into the school building and they definitely weren't the culprits. Neither was the teacher who shooed him out.

Checked the bar- making sure those damn assholes that sit and drink their health away didn't pull some bullshit. He wouldn't be surprised, since he beats them at every card game they've challenged him to since he's shown up. It wasn't them though- on account that they were all passed out on the floor with a disgruntled barkeep.

He was at a lost, about to surrender that he'll have to go buy a new one. To bad, he really liked that hat.

Until it occurred to him that he hadn't seen you in awhile.

In fact- he was so disgruntled by losing his hat, he completely forgotten that the catnap he took- was right by your side. You were leaning on his shoulder, falling asleep just like him. Now you and the hat were missing.

Didn't take long for him to find you- nearby your family home, by that pond you like to read by. You held a cheeky smile as he approached you.

"There you are, you little thief." He accused- eyes taking in the stetson upon your pretty little head. "I was bout to shoot someone over that thing, you know that right? Anyone teach you not to take stuff?"

"What?" You acted innocent. "You put it in my lap. Naturally I thought you were giving it to me."

He pressed a hand and leaned against a tree, looking down at you. "Now sweetheart, you do know what it means when you wear a cowboys hat, right?"

You blinked innocently up at him. A devilish grin spread across his face. "No? What does it mean?"

[monimccoythings]

Shine Bright like a Diamond

How come nobody told me there was a Patch!Logan and Emma Frost fusion called Diamond Patch. My God he gives the vibes of refined upper class businessman who under that smooth and sweet persona hides a very vicious and sadistic beast that comes out when he gets pissed off.

tags: gender neutral reader; yandereish logan?; implied murder(s); possessive behavior

Diamond Patch likes many things. He likes expensive cars, fancy suits, cocktail parties, and you. You. You. You.

The first time he saw you he got this primal and very unrefined need to possess you, to consume you, to claim you for himself. You just had to be his one way or another.

You had to admit that Diamond Patch was not only extremely handsome, but also terribly charming. A dangerous combination.

As attracted as you were to him, you knew how men like him worked. You knew how horrible, spoiled and vain they could be towards others. Always seeing people as conquests, trophies to be earned. A night in paradise and then completely dismiss you when they got bored.

You refused to become another notch on his bedpost. You wouldn't allow yourself to become his plaything only for him to tear you apart with no regards for your feelings. So you refuted any kind of move or advances he made towards you.

Diamond Patch is baffled with your behavior. Nothing seems to work with you: expensive gifts, elegant dates, and sweet compliments that would have turned the most up-tight of secretaries into a puddle .

Diamond Patch has tried to impress you with everything in his arsenal: his mighty physique, his charm, his money and his power, and yet you won't give him the time of the day.

Diamond Patch is not used to NOT getting what he wants. So your rejection only fuels his desire to have you even more.

Diamond Patch is not above playing dirty. He is not above taking out the competition for your affections. You suddenly start having fewer and fewer suitors.

Diamond Patch hates getting his pristine white suit dirty, but is willing to sink to the lowest of lows just to be the one to have you.

And once you finally give in, just to get him off your back, you just thought it would be enough for him. No feelings, no love, just him getting his way as always. You were ready to learn to live with that. However, you just inadvertently confirmed what he already knew.

No other man could ever have you.

[dragon-kazansky]

Patch

[pickledpascal]

Be My James Bond?

Pairing: Patch!Logan x Native American OC!Maya Imik

Warnings: sexual tension, violence, claws are OUT, smoking.

A/N: i love you patch logan and your .5 seconds of screen time in d&w. for context, maya is a mutant who can manipulate water/liquids.

Word Count: 1.8k

Hugh Jackman Masterlist

It was another one of those missions, the kind where Maya and Logan had to go undercover in some fancy casino that seemed way too good to be true. Which it was. These kinds of missions were somewhat trivial, at least in Maya’s eyes, but they always impacted mutant lives somehow. So of course she went on them.

Seeing Logan dressed up didn’t hurt either. And she knew Logan didn’t mind seeing her in a dress.

This time, she wore a strapless dress in a deep blue color that pooled onto the floor, a slit that went all the way to her mid-thigh. Her light sepia skin was on display for everyone to see. The scars never threw anyone off, they seemed to draw them in. She found it was a conversation starter which is what she needed on a mission like this. It also helped that she was usually the only Native in any room she walked into and people could tell.

She walked around the casino, keeping an eye on Logan as he played at a poker table. He wore a white blazer with a nicely fitting waistcoat and black bowtie. Classy. In all the right ways. And his eyepatch, which he wore no matter what seemed to tie the whole look together.

She went up to the bar to order a drink and get some information. This part of the casino was exclusive, meant for the high-rollers only.

Her presence had men flocking to the bar so she plastered a smile on her red-painted lips, sipping at a martini as she chatted with the men, pulling out bits and pieces of information from them as she lightly and expertly flirted with them.

Soon, Maya could feel a familiar presence make his way to the bar. She excused herself from the man she was talking with and moved further down the bar.

“Having any luck, River?” Logan asked, a hand around a crystal glass filled with whiskey. The color was similar to her left eye. He had also lit up a cigar which he had currently hanging from his lips.

Maya smirked, their shoulders brushing up against each other. She breathed in the smoke of his cigar as it swirled around them. “The best. How ‘bout you, Patch?”

Logan huffed under his breath, plucking the cigar from his lips between two fingers. “I’m working on that.” Maya was about to say something else when a man she previously talked to went up to her.

He was a little shorter, younger, and handsome man who was certainly way in over his head. “Hey, pretty girl.” He crooned as he stood between her and Logan. He slid a hand up her arm. “You wanna get out of here? This old guy must be bothering you.”

Mistake number one when talking to Maya in front of Logan: Never assume she is yours. She’s not. And Logan will make you not so nicely understand.

A light laugh escaped her lips while Logan seethed as he looked at the man. He was resisting the urge to slam his face into the bar top. It would be a shame to stain it with his blood.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” She tried to let him down gently, as a mercy. She hoped he would be smart and turn the other way. “I’m not the kind of girl who goes back to a hotel room with someone after a few drinks. I’m sure you understand.” She smiled politely.

The man huffed and turned around. “Bitch.” He mumbled under his breath.

Mistake number two: Never insult Maya.

Logan pulled the other man by his hair and slammed his head against the bar top, hard enough for his nose to break and bleed. His other hand extended his claws slowly. “Wanna try that again, bub? That’s my wife you’re talking to.” He ground out, eyes narrowed like he wanted to kill him.

All the activity around them seemed to stop, but no one made any move to try and help the man who was unfortunately at the mercy of an angry Wolverine.

The man tried to shake his head but it was hard to since he was held against the counter. Logan roughly let him go, pushing him away. “Get the fuck outta here.” His claws retracted back into his knuckles.

Maya couldn’t contain the sly smile on her face as she watched the young man fall into a heap on the floor before he got up and scrambled away.

“Was that really needed, Patch?” She asked, tilting her head as the smile on her lips widened.

Logan went back to smoking his cigar, the tension in his shoulders dissipating. “Wasn’t it, River?” His lips quirked up into a lop-sided smirk. “Can’t have someone thinking they can have you, can I?”

Maya was glad they got the information they needed so they didn’t have to stay in the casino any longer. With the way Logan’s eyes roamed over her body and how he broke someone’s face, it was best they got out of there.

She pushed their hotel room open, toeing off her heels so she sat at her normal height. With them on, she was taller than Logan rather than being almost exactly his height. Logan pushed the door closed behind him and locked it before he wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed soft kisses to her neck.

“Always so goddamn tempting when you dress like this.” He murmured against her skin. “Almost like you want to torture me.”

Maya turned in his arms and cupped his face, kissing him softly. It wasn’t her fault the revealing dresses made more men want to talk to her. And it wasn’t her fault she could be easy to talk to when she wanted to be.

Logan’s shoulders slumped as she kissed him. She relaxed him like no other person could, rendering him limp at times from just a simple touch.

She pushed Logan onto the couch and let out a soft breath as she looked down at him. And he looked up at her, pulling her close by her hand so she stood between his legs. He pressed the back of her hand to his lips, thumb rubbing against the wedding rings that sat on her fingers.

Her other hand lifted to push his eyepatch off his face, revealing the milky white eye underneath. He wasn’t completely blind in that eye but he was self-conscious about how it looked. Maya didn’t mind. She liked seeing his face in its full glory. Her thumb traced underneath his left eye, causing him to let out a breath of contentment.

The deformed eye was a result of getting shot, but it never quite healed right. He wasn’t sure what was wrong with his healing factor, it was fine with everything else. Just that one eye. However, he counted himself lucky that it didn’t look worse.

Logan huffed softly and leaned forward, burying his face in her solid but still plush stomach. He wrapped his arms around her hips as he nuzzled his face against her. He could feel her body rumble underneath him as she laughed. Her hands cradled the back of his head as he kept rubbing his face against her torso. A low purr escaped his chest.

He tugged her onto his lap, hands on her hips as he pushed his face into her neck to breathe in her scent properly. Now, it was mixed with a perfume which he had complained about many times before. It made it harder for him to pick up her smell.

Maya pressed a kiss to the side of his head, a light and easy smile on her face. One that she only had when she was with Logan and he was being affectionate like this.

“I love you.” Logan pulled away from her neck to look her in the eye when he said it. He was loyal to a fault for Maya. He’d kill for her, easily. If he could die, he would give up his life in an instant.

Maya’s eyes roamed over his face, her smile widening. “I love you too.” She pressed a kiss to his left eyebrow. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment.

They sat in silence for a while, drinking in each other's presence like they did most nights they were together. It was routine Logan wasn’t used to but he found that he loved it, even during missions like these.

He grabbed a cigar from his blazer and lit it. The light cast a harsh shadow over his face and illuminated him with a warm light, if only for a few seconds. Maybe less. Maya always thought he looked pretty when smoking a cigar and, sometimes, Logan would use that to his advantage.

He took a puff from the cigar and smirked as he blew the smoke in her face. She stared at him with an amused look in her eyes, largely unphased. She sat up a little straighter on his lap and raised an eyebrow with interest.

“Logan—” Maya breathed.

He cupped her chin with his free hand, thumb tracing her bottom lip. “C’mon, pretty girl,” He called her the one thing he knew would make her melt. “Open up.”

Maya’s eyes darkened, pupils blown wide that the color was only a thin ring. Her jaw clenched before she finally did comply, her lips parting.

Logan grinned as he took another drag from his cigar, sharp canines barely made an appearance between his lips. Maya noticed. He blew the smoke into her mouth like he had done it a hundred times before. He has. It never got old. She sucked in the smoke and blew it right back at him.

He pulled her chin close so he could kiss her, to taste the cigar on her lips. He would light up a cigar just to taste it on her lips a lot. He found it was more addicting than the tobacco they were made of.

“Can never get enough, can you?” A sly smile appeared on Maya’s lips as Logan pulled away, putting the cigar between his lips.

“Of you? Never.” He tilted his head, an eyebrow raised as he looked at her. His hands dropped to cradle her hips. “I married you, isn’t that proof?”

Her heart beat louder, harder in her chest when he mentioned they were married. She could never get used to it—his ring on her finger and her ring on his finger. How he stared at her with such love and adoration that she felt like her chest was an overflowing waterfall.

“If I recall, I proposed first.”

“True, but you beat me only by a week.”

“Mm, sure.”

Logan might have claws but he also had the ability to bend that waterfall to his will, subconsciously or not.