A Question For The Red Medic!

I need you to know i damn near punched the fan I have in front of me when I read that last paragraph

if i get too loud you can shut my mouth ch. 3

Masterlist Ch. 1, Ch. 2 The Poolverine Playlist Pairing: Wade Wilson/Deadpool x Logan Howlett/Wolverine

Rating: Explicit

Tags: dry humping, rough/violent sex, violence (but they're into it), tenderness, dirty talk, choking, flirting, biting, enthusiastic consent, anal fingering, anal sex, creampie 😌

Word Count: 2.7K

If you like what I write and can afford to do so, please consider buying me a coffee! It would be much appreciated.

Getting fucked in a drying puddle of his own blood would not have been a first. It wouldn't have been a problem, either.

Wade's so eager to keep going that he just flings the sheets off regardless, pillows hitting the floor and almost knocking his lamp off the nightstand. Almost a shame to replace them; with any luck they'll end up just as messy as this first set did.

They don't say anything as Wade shuffles through his closet to fetch the spare set of bedclothes, trying not to let Logan see that it's shoved to the brim with clutter.

It all feels surreal. Like he's on the best kind of trip, everything all slow motion and floaty. Taking a ride on the Wolverine’s disco stick had always been a fantasy, sure. But now that it's about to happen, Wade has a feeling that the wet dreams won't compare.

He's fucking nervous, even with the taste of Logan's come still fresh on his tongue.

When the sheets are replaced, he slides back onto the mattress, satisfied when Logan settles himself on top with a quiet sound of want. His lips miss Wade's own the first time around, teeth nipping a little at his cheek before they're kissing again – slower this time.

It's surprising how differently Logan touches him now that they've gotten the first round out of the way. One of his hands cradles the back of Wade's head. Gentleness where it hadn't been apparent before, Logan's mouth working over his like it wants to take the time to know him. Own him.

He can also feel his lungs slowly getting crushed under the weight of Logan's metal skeleton. (Metal skeleton, what sick fuck does that to a guy? Then again, Wade has his own baggage he's not exactly willing to unpack.)

Three solid whacks to the back get Logan's attention, and as he lifts up, Wade heaves in a relieved breath.

“Scoot a bit,” he says after blinking the stars away. “I love a little breathplay as much as the next guy, but I can't be the fucked out little butt slut we both want me to be if I'm unconscious.”

“But you'd be quiet,” Logan quips back, even as he shifts his weight further so that Wade isn't taking any of it. He does, however, get the warmth, the smell of him, the consistent thump of his heartbeat.

A quick glance up reveals that Logan is grinning a little.

Wade gasps, feigning shock. Reveling in their little flirty game, even as his cock whines and begs for them to just get back to the good shit. Currently it's lodged against Logan's inner thigh, which is delicious in and of itself, but he's never been the most patient boy.

“My good sir!” He takes on a posh British accent. “Are you saying that you would desecrate me, without my complete and enthusiastic consent?”

Logan kisses him again, faster now, letting his mouth trail down to Wade's neck, and oh. He can't help but arch into that, his thoughts of sexy banter cast aside for a moment as the other man's hot breath touches his skin.

“I'm saying you're more talk than action, bub,” Logan says, his voice no louder than a whisper. Sexy and growly right in his ear now, and Wade shivers in answer, grinding his cock into Logan's leg. “I think you'd let me know if you weren't enjoying yourself. Right?”

“Right,” Wade practically moans as Logan's mouth opens, a wet sound he can feel and hear.

His tongue traces the shape of Wade's ear for just a moment before sharp canines dig into the cartilage – not sharp enough to break the skin but sharp enough to make him tilt his head back in an effort to get more.

“Fuck yeah, big guy, of course I would, I keep it safe sane and consensual – or at least consensual –”

“Ha.”

Wade's glad that he thought it was funny. He can't really think at all anymore aside from how good Logan's mouth feels as it travels back and forth on his neck.

“Fuck! S’good, really sensitive – keep going,” he hears himself slur out as Logan bites down hard.

Logan groans in answer, grinding his cock against Wade's, and it's maybe the most gratifying thing on the planet to know that this is turning him on just as much.

Something wet runs down the side of his neck, and Logan's tongue is quick to catch it, warm against his skin. Doubtless that there are endless wires crossed in Wade's brain right now, but the knowledge that Logan is biting him hard enough to break the skin and then licking at the blood that wells from the bite is pushing Wade to his fucking edge.

The a la carte is letting his hands roam Logan's (gorgeous) back and ass to their heart's content, and it only seems to spur him on. Every deep press of their hips together becomes just as hungry as when they'd done it against the wall, building and building until Wade starts to recognize that undeniable pressure. He really could come like this, again – ad infinitum, really.

The bed protests underneath them, squeaking and groaning like it wants to collapse. Logan ignores it, dragging his teeth across Wade's sensitive collarbone and neck, the kisses becoming more quick and frantic as he clearly gets close to finishing again too.

“Fuck – Red, you feel – so good,” he manages. “Wanna – make a mess of you.”

Wade isn't sure what's turning him on more; feeling their dicks rubbing together in a mix of sweat and neediness, or the way Logan's breath now comes in shallow pants, his composure peeling away again.

(Is it bad to secretly hope he gets speared through again? Yeah. Probably, yeah.)

“Would feel better if you fucked me,” Wade answers, leaving any and all inhibitions behind. No point in being shy now, is there?

He doubles down when he hears Logan's breath catch, one hip hitching to press deeper into Wade's thigh.

“Logan, god, fuck me, please, get the fuck inside me –”

Logan pulls back to look at him, eyes intense and passionate. Searching his face but full of sexual desire. God, this is just like The Notebook.

“Where's your, uh –?”

“I don't want it.”

The look lingers for only a few seconds before Logan nods. Trusting him to be able to take it. Instead of protesting further about lube or lack thereof, he takes the time to strip out of the rest of his clothes, dropping the flannel and tshirt to the bedroom floor.

“Wow,” Wade says with quiet reverence, turning to look at the readers. “We finally got there. The abs are out, guys. Start jerking or get your vibrators ready. It's about to be a 9.5 on the Wet Pussy Scale.”

One hand slides up his bare ass. “Pretty sure that's not what we're working with here.”

“It can be wh–atever you want it to be, sweetheart.”

Wade jumps a little as two rough, thick fingers swirl around his hole, pressing in ever so slightly. Logan peers up at him from between his spread legs, gauging his reaction with the gentlest look of concentration and need on his face.

It stirs something in Wade that he can't quite name, or more accurately won't. All he knows is that the way Logan is looking at him feels more vulnerable than having fingers pressed into his ass, and at this very specific moment in time he knows which he'd prefer over the other. Now isn’t the time to be thinking about what this’ll mean – he only wants to know how it’ll feel. Later, they can talk it all out.

At least, he hopes.

It's delicate work, for a time. Nothing makes a sound except the way they move together, Wade’s breath hitching as Logan presses in deeper, experimenting with reactions to shallow thrusts.

“You’re quiet,” Logan comments. “Give me something to go off of, Mouth. What do you want? More? Less?”

Shit, he’s right. Very OOC of him.

“It’s been a minute since I’ve been the glove and not the hand is all.” Wade wriggles a little, getting flatter on the mattress, breath hitching as the movement presses Logan’s fingers deeper inside him. “Nine times out of ten, I’m pitching. But it – fuck! – feels great, peanut, you’re doing great –”

Those were the magic words Logan was looking for. With a pleased hum, he curls his fingers deep into Wade’s ass, a full push that has Wade curling his toes. The sting is just an afterthought as he focuses on the very deliberate way Logan pulls out, then pushes right back in again, setting a rhythm that he’s pressing himself up into without even fully realizing at first.

“Oh, fuck yes,” Wade pants. “More of that, just, if you – hah – go a little higher –”

Panting every bit as fast as Wade is, Logan adjusts in a heartbeat, nailing that spot, making Wade cry out in a way that can only be described as slutty. He feels teeth dig into his knee, warm breath and lips and kisses, eager on the skin they can reach. A glance down reveals those mussed cowlicks he’s wanted to run his fingers through for months now, Logan’s forehead, his eyes laser focused on the way Wade’s body is taking him. As if it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen, the most important view.

Marvel H. Christ.

“If you don’t fuck me within the next five minutes, then please stab me through the head so I can forget how bad I need this for a second while my brain regenerates.”

A quiet scoff of a laugh. “If you’re ready, then I’m ready.”

“Buddy, a glory hole couldn’t be more ready than me right now.”

Logan rises over him like a wave, their naked bodies flush. Wade can feel the head of his cock right at his hole – he hooks a leg over Logan’s waist, and the clue is taken.

Wade gazes up at him as Logan works his way in, and though Logan’s concentration is on easing inside him, Wade can only stare dumbly at the other man’s face like nothing else exists. Like everything has narrowed down to a fine point until there’s only this sensation.

If Logan had felt big in his mouth, then he definitely feels big in Wade’s ass. The stretch is slow, deliberate, though it’s clear from the downright pornographic look on Logan’s face that he wants to push in and just fucking have him. What was it he’d said? Make a mess of him.

Even though he’s ninety-nine point-six-eight percent sure that his mouth is hanging open like a goddamned idiot, Wade can’t bring himself to move. Because Logan’s hips are touching the curve of his bare ass as he bottoms out, and he’s making the most gorgeous face Wade thinks he’s ever seen in his life. Shit, he’s half-sure he could come just from looking at the man.

“Gonna move now,” Logan tells him, reaching to brush his thumb over Wade’s cheek. So fucking sweet, in the midst of what they're about to do.

“You better.”

He had hoped the reply would come out confident, but they both know it sounds punched out and breathless.

Still watching him with that same mix of need and openness, Logan rolls his hips in one long, slow, agonizing motion. Then again, again, again, and by some miracle, he’s being fucked deep and gentle.

They both moan at the same time, the sound low in Logan’s throat as his eyes flutter shut.

“Wade,” he says, and something about hearing the single syllable of his name from the man’s mouth has Wade thrusting back, needing more, now.

“That is, unfortunately, my name,” comes Wade’s answer, trying and failing to find something wittier to say back. His mind is on fire with all the feel-good chemicals, body on autopilot, everything going into the rhythm he and Logan are setting together. “Bestowed upon me. By my mother. In the – f-fuck – yearofourlordnineteeneightysi–”

Then Logan’s hand travels smoothly back down to his throat, threatening to squeeze, and Wade’s cock jerks hard against his stomach.

Huffing out another quiet laugh – a thousand times hotter when he’s balls deep, fucking Wade with some freakish reserves of control – Logan smirks down at him.

“This how you want it?”

The grip tightens. Tighter, tighter, until Wade can’t draw in a breath. Logan keeps him there for a few floaty seconds, spots forming in his vision, before releasing him again.

“How I need it,” Wade gasps when he can. “Harder. Meaner, you know I can take it.”

“Oh, you want mean?” He raises an eyebrow at that, the cute little smirk widening into a wolfish grin. “I think I can manage that.”

Fuck yeah you can, Wade wants to quip back, but he never gets the words out. He's being maneuvered so that his knee dangles over Logan's shoulder, opened wider as Logan thrusts in harder. Deeper. Desperate nails dig into Wade's skin, and again part of him wonders if he's about to see this big kitty's claws.

With some sort of sound between a whine and a growl, Logan lays into him like he couldn't possibly hold himself back a second longer.

“Oh, fuck, Wade.”

Thank whatever deity is watching over them right now that he doesn't live with Blind Al anymore, because this would not have gone over well. The mattress is practically howling its complaints now, the frame threatening to buckle underneath them as Wade gets fucked hard enough to punch the air from his lungs with every thrust.

It doesn’t take long for it to finally throw in the towel. One of the bedframe’s spindly legs gives out with a screech, pitching them to the side. Neither of them stops to give a damn, though Dogpool barks once from the living room in what can only be described as mild concern.

Hand trembling, Wade reaches for his cock, unable to stand it anymore. He has to come, now. Logan notices immediately and slaps his hand away.

“Yeah, no. That’s my job.”

He replaces Wade’s fingers with his own, the grip tight. The stern rhythm makes Wade whine, boneless. Judging from the evidence he’d gathered not long before this, Logan’s right on the brink of coming again. Cocaine’s starting to look like powdered sugar compared to the way he looks when he’s right there, fighting not to be loud, wrenching his hips for all he’s worth, pupils blown out and, and –

“Oh, shit, oh for fuck’s fucking sake, peanut –!”

Wade is half-aware that he’s saying something. More aware that it’s complete nonsense. Very, very cognizant of the orgasm tearing its way up and out of his dick, coating Logan’s hand and beautiful skin. Logan moans with him, a soft sound that betrays his need all the same, and tilts his head back just as he presses deep into Wade one last time.

God, he can feel it. Logan absolutely fills him with come, chest heaving and thighs trembling, like some symbol of eroticism and beauty made just for Wade to stare at. The soft little gasps and growls that follow in the aftershocks make Wade want to flip him over and fuck him senseless for hours. Days. The rest of his life.

But Logan slowly pulls out of him, blinking back to himself. Come leaks out of Wade’s hole as he does–kind of unavoidable with how stretched and loose he is–but Wade can’t bring himself to care. Another set of sheets to wash is worth what they’ve done, he thinks.

“Five…fucking…stars,” Wade says as they untangle from each other. (His face hurts. He soon realizes it’s because he’s beaming like a lesbian at a women’s soccer match.) “I mean, bravo, sweetheart, Jesus. I’m not gonna lie – I thought I had you pegged as a power bottom – but we love a man with range.”

Giving a vague sort of hum in response, Logan’s already on his feet, hand on the bedroom doorknob.

Even though Wade’s brain is fast and his mouth is faster, Logan slips away before he can get out another word, leaving him alone with a soft click of the closing door.

Hello, tumblr user. Before you is a tumblr post asking you to name a female fictional character. You have unlimited time to tag a female character, NOT a male one.

Begin.

Welp, this convinced me. Electricity is officially magic

MY PERSONAL TOP20 OF WRITERS IN FANNIBAL FANDOM

purefoysgirl

DevilsHerb

MissDisoriental

ThisBeautifulDrowning

Phenobarbital

Devereauxs_Disease

LiaS0

inameitlater

pinkbagels

fragile-teacup

DarkmoonSigel

TimmyJaybird

Severus_divides_into_H

coloredink

GoldenUsagi

Therru

emungere

Finely Honed

The_Clever_Magpie

ProxyOne

this list is just a tip of an iceberg. Our fandom is lucky to have hundreds and thousands heavenly talented writers. This this just my top 20 of writers who I consider to be extremely talented. If you have more names to add and recommend - please do. I’d love to discover new writers and read their stories with the same passion. 

I'm re-listening to Icebound, and I realized something.

Taishen said he raised Mei Li. And somehow I didn't register that the first time I listened to Icebound. Taishen being a parent or at least a parental figure makes so much sense. And also...

That means he's a dilf

...I need to write a modern au one-shot where he's a single parent tea shop owner and has a meet cute with Jornir

I just had an idea for a prompt. So, Fox Hux right? He's always ginger/red from the top of his ears to the tip of his tail. Anyways, when they start hanging around starkiller or the heating goes out. He starts turning gray! No amount of dye can fix it & everyone thinks he's just graying early & really fast. But no! He's just changing with the weather! His hair & fur turn completely white! Of course everyone wants to touch it!. A bit more hc that prompt now that I think about it. Do as you please

A month into the deep winter on Starkiller Base, Hux notices the changes.

He thought that the stresses of running the Base had merely brought in some early grey hairs but when more keep appearing and looking more like a bright white colour instead of a typical grey that would come with ageing, Hux is baffled. Even the plush copper fur of his beautiful tail is beginning to turn white.

Is he sick? Is this a sign of a terminal illness?

“Hux? Come to bed. It’s late.” Kylo stands in the doorway, yawning a big yawn and showing off his sharp, wolf canines. His tail lies limp behind him, touching the floor, much too tired to consciously raise it.

“Ren. I wouldn’t want you to find someone else, you know. If I died,” Hux says, leaning over the sink of the refresher to look at his reflection in the mirror.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Hux?”

“I’d expect you to mourn me for at least a year—if not two—when I’m gone. I’d want you to be happy, of course, but the idea of someone else touching you and loving you when I can’t is too much.”

“Hux!” Kylo appears behind Hux and slides his hands around the fox’s waist, mindful of his sensitive tail, resting his chin on Hux’s shoulder. “Stop talking like that. What’s gotten into you?”

Hux sighs, lifting his hand to brush away a portion of his copper hair to reveal stripes of pure white underneath. It hurts to look at—whatever it is. He wriggles free of the wolf’s hold to turn around and face him to show him the same streaks of white that are taking over his bushy tail. Atop his head, his two fox ears haven’t escaped the disease either.

“I think I’m sick,” Hux says. “My fur and hair are changing. I’m a red fox. I’m not meant to be turning white.”

“I thought I noticed something different,” Kylo says, cocking his head as he runs his fingers through Hux’s hair to see the white close-up. He gives a little scratch behind one of the fox’s ears and makes him purr. “Red or white, you’re still beautiful.”

Hux smiles, wagging his tail. “For a dead fox walking.”

“It reminds me of something,” Kylo says softly, looking at Hux’s tousled hair, to the white roots. “There are animals on Chandrila, bear-type creatures that would be brown all year until the snowfall—Oh. Fuck.”

“What, Ren?”

Kylo smiles, “Are you sure that you’re a red fox, Hux?”

“Absolutely certain. My mother and my father were both red foxes, both ginger. What are you getting at? Why aren’t you sad about my imminent death?”

“I think one of them wasn’t what they seem,” Kylo says, nuzzling Hux’s cheek. “I think you’re an arctic fox, Hux.”

Hux reels as though he’s been slapped. He stares wide-eyed at the wolf as though he’s grown an extra head, so confused by his proposal. “A…what?”

“An arctic fox. You’re one colour in the summer and spring months but in the winter, your fur turns white to blend in with the snow. It makes sense, actually. Starkiller is an ice planet, after all.”

“I’m so pleased that you’re so fascinated by my species that you’re ignoring this big reveal, Ren,” Hux rolls his eyes but can’t fight his relief coming out in an exhilarating exhale.

Kylo laughs, “I knew you weren’t dying. You foxes are known for being dramatic.”

Hux playfully slaps Kylo’s arm but his amused smile quickly fades as he turns back around and looks in the mirror, “So I’m…not a red fox. I’m going to go white all over. Ugh. How ghastly.”

“Don’t pout,” Kylo says, standing beside his mate and getting on his tip-toes to take Hux into his arms and nestle his chin atop his head. Nevertheless, Hux still pouts. “I think it’s cute. White hair, white tail. You’ll look other-worldly, Hux.”

“I’ll look like a fool. What will everyone think of me when I go onto the command deck one day and I’ve gone completely white? My officers are already looking at my strangely for having these white streaks and roots!”

“Fuck what they think,” Kylo growls protectively. “Your fur could turn green and you’d still be their General, their superior in every way. Power, beauty. Nothing could ever compare to my beautiful fox. I’ll cut anyone down who thinks any different.”

Hux smiles, filled with joy at the thought of Kylo defending his honour.

Perhaps being an arctic fox won’t be as bad as it seems—though he wonders whether it was his mother or his father who hid their heritage from the galaxy. Hux raises an eyebrow; after leaving Arkanis, Brendol seemed to turn grey very quickly…

i just think it's important to understand that love is not the antithesis of horror in fact it's often the catalyst

Hi Tumblr, have these two Icebound fics I wrote

I always forget I can post fics onto Tumblr. Anyway, have these two (both Taishen-centric for some reason)

(Spoilers for episodes 14/15-ish of Icebound, it diverges from canon but there's still some spoilers)

Make it up to you - word count: 2,162

AO3 Summary: "Ever since he messed up only a night or so ago by not keeping an eye on that child and falling asleep when he was supposed to be on watch, Taishen was struggling to find ways to make it up to them. It weighed on the back of his mind endlessly, repeating the disappointed statements of his friends' and his own regrets.

Now, however, Taishen realized he had a decision to make, and it wasn’t a difficult one anymore (not that it would have been before). His eyes were keenly watching the action, and could tell when a magical attack was about to strike, headed right for a distracted Skrimm.

He could make up for his mistake here and now. (Even if he almost dies in the process)"

In which I felt bad for Taishen having tried his best to save this child - the one job he was given while they were gone - and then his friends return and basically tell him what a bad job he did and he just forgets that he even tried and so I wanted to do something about it.

Implied character death, but it's temporary

(Spoilers for 27/28 of Icebound, but it diverts very quickly and changes nothing)

I'll Be Fine - word count: 2,679

AO3 Summary: "It’d barely been 30 minutes since they’d come to a decision. Jornir had left with Skrimm and Queenie after seeing something in his vision that he hadn’t elaborated on. Whatever it’d been, it had urged him to join them - though he’d been insistent on Taishen and especially Barnabos staying behind. And Taishen was more than alright with that. He was no medicine man like Jornir was, but he at least wanted to stick around to make sure that Barnabos was alright."

Aka, I needed an excuse to write about Barnabos and Taishen and so I wrote this for some reason. (Featuring more unnecessary canon divergence that changes nothing and is just for plot convenience!)

mayhaps do you know or remember anything about how to find that 'Clark as a nanny/au pair for the Waynes' au? It sounds fantastic 🩷

thirteen by CapnWinghead!

this is the one! it's cute batfam stuff :)

The Billionaire and the Babysitter by victorian_sexstache

this is a different one. it's a little spicier :D

I love the idea of Logan just chowing down on an entire box on chez its (also I love the hoodie)

freak: MATCHED