Archive of Our Own ^beta

You fiddled with your jewelry before smoothing out the flyaways in your hair one more time in your bedroom mirror. You then moved back to see yourself fully. Your favorite dress hugged your figure perfectly and showed off your legs with its short skirt. You nodded in approval.

Suddenly, you heard banging on your front door, followed by, “Police! Come out with your hands up!” You rolled your eyes and took your time getting the door. You already knew who it was.

You moved into the apartment complex about a year ago. You were in the middle of unpacking, blasting your music, when you heard someone knocking on your door. You quickly turned the music down and went to see who it was, dreading getting a noise complaint already. Surprisingly, you came face to face with a man covered in scars named Wade Wilson. Instead of getting onto you, he happily turned the music back up, helped you unpack, and became your best friend.

When he told you about himself - his job (a sort of assassin-for-hire), his scars (he was once part of an experiment gone wrong that wound up giving him enhanced healing abilities) and his twisted sense of humor (he was just like that) - you didn’t exactly believe him. You soon realized that there might be some truth to him when one day, out of the blue, he came back with a hunk of a man who Wade claimed was from another timeline. The hunk in question was Logan. According to Wade, he kind of messed things up in his world and was given a chance to start over in this one. You were more than happy to help whenever you could, however you could.

Somewhere down the line, you guess you fell in love with Logan. He was good-looking in a rugged way and was in great shape for someone his age (which Wade joked was WAY more than you thought), but it wasn’t just that. Sure, on the outside he seemed gruff and unapproachable, and sometimes he actually was. Once you got to know him, though (or once he got to know you), he loosened up. You would even go as far as to say there was a real soft side to him. You didn’t forget how he teared up at Howl’s Moving Castle during movie night a while back. You slowly went to his hand when you first noticed and he held on tight, eventually loosening his grip but opting to draw lazy circles instead of letting go. You wished he would touch you more, whether it was holding hands, hugging, kissing, slowly going down there…

But it was never going to happen. You were sure of it. That’s what tonight was about – getting over Logan. You finally hopped on one of those dating apps and, after some scrolling, matched up with someone named Blane who was handsome, a successful businessman, and loved travelling. He recommended a fancy restaurant downtown that you had been wanting to try out for forever, and he even offered to pick you up. It was to be your first date in a long time, so you spent all day getting ready. You were so engrossed in your routine that you totally forgot about movie night.

Sure enough, the person at your door was Wade, dressed in his comfiest “Snoopy” pajamas with popcorn, candy, and chips overflowing in his arms. Behind him was Logan carrying a case of beer.

“Sorry to disturb you, ma’am,” Wade went on as he entered your space, “but we heard that you were having a double feature movie night of the incomparable Molly Ringwald and we had to come over and investigate.”

“Fuck,” you groaned under your breath.

“Hello to you, too,” Logan said with a smirk. You blushed and looked away as he walked past.

“You look nice,” he commented, taking in your appearance. He was so used to your more casual clothes. You always looked so comfortable and cute, for lack of a better word. Tonight, you were downright gorgeous. It took him by surprise.

Then again, you were full of surprises. That’s why he liked you.

Logan really liked you.

He liked you so much that he decided that tonight was the night he was going to straighten up his adamantium spine and finally ask you out on a -

“Thanks. I’m actually going on a date.”

Your voice pulled Logan back to Earth. His face contorted into confusion. Did he hear you right?

“A date?”

“Yes,” you confirmed, closing the door and going over to check your purse on the wall. “I met him on one of those dating apps. He’s taking me to that restaurant I keep talking about downtown.”

“Are you seriously ditching me, Wolfman Jack, and Ms. Ringwald for some boy?!” Wade asked, his hand dramatically on his chest.

“I know! I’m really sorry!” You rushed over to him, getting on your knees to beg. “But he seems like a great guy. And this is the first date I’ve been on in God knows how long. I thought it’d be something different for me. You know I wouldn’t forget movie night unless it was for something really important.”

Wade sighed. “You could’ve at least invited me.”

“You know I’m not into three ways, babe.”

“Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it.”

You smiled and patted his knee. You looked up to Logan, who was still holding onto the beer but with a scowl on his face.

“Logan?” you asked, moving back over to him and gently touching his arm. “Are you okay?”

You might as well have touched him with a hot poker because he swiftly moved over to the couch to set the beer on the coffee table. “Yeah. Fine.” He didn’t look at you once. He just plopped down and helped himself to a bottle. You stood there in semi-shock. He had never been so blunt with you before.

“So, who’s the lucky man?” Wade asked.

Oh, right. Your date. “Blane,” you answered.

Wade’s eyes widened. “Blane?! What kind of a name is Blane?! That’s an appliance, not a name!”

As he talked, you quickly pulled out your phone and pulled up his profile. You flashed it to Wade. “God, he even looks like a tool,” he scoffed. “What do you think, pookie?”

Wade nudged Logan, who barely looked at the photo before giving a small nod and turning back around. You sighed. He was upset, you figured. Why, you had no idea.

You didn’t have time to pry further, though. According to your phone, you had a text from Blane saying he was a couple of minutes away from you.

“Shit! He’s almost here! I should probably go.”

You grabbed your purse and double-checked that everything was there. Before you made it to the door, you heard, “Ah bup bup!” Wade was up in a flash and turned you around to face him.

“Before you go, young lady, phone.” He held out his hand and you reluctantly handed it over. He easily opened it up (you should really change your password). “I’m going to turn on ‘Find My Phone’ in case you get kidnapped and I need to kick ass,” he explained. You rolled your eyes but didn’t stop him. Wade eventually gave your phone back. He suddenly gasped. “Oh, and I’m giving you these…!” He reached into his pajama pants and fished out a roll of condoms. Your eyes widened. “In case you get lucky and get pounded in the ass by the tool.”

“Thanks, Wade,” you said, hesitantly taking the roll and placing them at the very bottom of your purse. “Um… have fun with Molly. Raid my pantry, if you want. It’s the least I can offer.”

“You can expect your s’mores Oreos to be gone by the time you get back,” Wade promised, opening up for a hug. You eagerly gave it to him.

“Love you,” you whispered in his ear.

“Love you more,” he replied.

Before you left, you looked to Logan and tried one more time. “Goodbye, Logan.”

A curt nod in your general direction was your only response.

Your lips formed a straight line, but you quickly shook it off. You weren’t going to let this ruin your night. You gave a nod of your own and a “see you later” before finally leaving the apartment.

It was time for your date.

“Somebody oughta punch his fuckin’ lights out,” Logan mumbled under his breath.

He and Wade were about halfway through Pretty in Pink (and Logan was halfway done with the beer), and every time James Spader came onscreen Logan had to make some comment that wished horrible pain on the teen villain. At first it was amusing for Wade, who simply shoved popcorn into his mouth as he went back and forth between the entertainment onscreen and the entertainment Logan was providing.

Of course he knew about Logan’s crush on you. He knew the second you two met, how Logan’s eyes looked you up and down with intense curiosity. As time went on, he noticed that Logan was gentler around you, a bit calmer. You were good for him. Wade also knew that you were crazy about Logan, which is why your date came just as much as a surprise to him as it did for Logan. He felt bad for the poor guy. That feeling was running thin, though, the more Logan just sat on the couch not doing anything but drink and moan (and not in a fun way).

Sure enough, when James Spader came on screen again, Logan growled, “Fuckin’ kid. What would he know about treating a girl right?”

That was the last straw for Wade. He grabbed the remote, hit pause, and turned criss-cross-applesauce to the poor man.

“You’re in love with her and hate that it’s not you she’s with right now on that date.”

Logan cocked an eyebrow. “What?”

“You’ve got super-hearing, honey badger. You heard me.”

Logan didn’t even bother turning around to address Wade. “I am not-“

“Yes, you are,” Wade quickly countered.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Logan tried to reach for the remote to resume the movie, but Wade was fast. He continued, “I see how you act around her. You do anything she asks. ‘Come with me on a grocery run?’ ‘Sure!’ ‘Help me fix my sink?’ ‘Why not?!’ ‘Can you rip your heart right out of your chest with your claws?’ ‘As you wish, princess.’”

“Will you stop with this?” Logan shook his head, trying not to give into the fact that everything Wade was saying was true.

“And the looks that you give her! I’ve never seen you look at anyone the way you look at her. You look at her like she’s a goddess!”

“Shut up.”

“You look at her like you want to rip her clothes off and impale her with your rod of adamantium steel!”

“Shut the fuck up,” Logan snarled, his beer bottle threatening to break with how hard he was holding it along with his emotions.

“Oh my God! Do I have to draw a picture for you?! You look at her like you want to fuck her!”

That was the last straw for Logan. However, instead of using the beer bottle, he tossed it against the wall with a growl and jumped across the couch to gut Wade with his claws. After taking a moment to recover from the surprise attack, Wade smiled and said, “Looks like you’re going to have to help her clean her couch, which you were probably going to do anyway, which not that many people would do. That’s love, bitch.”

Logan wish he had it in him to really shut the merc-with-the-mouth up… but deep down he knew Wade was right. He slowly retracted his claws and moved back to his end of the couch. He took several deep breaths before letting it all out.

“You’re right. You’re right, okay? I love her. I love her so goddamn much it’s killing me that she’s with that prick instead of me.”

After a minute, Logan felt a hand on his shoulder. He dared to look up and saw Wade, who was still spilling blood but already recovering, giving him a genuinely sympathetic look.

“It’s not too late, Logan,” Wade said gently.

“Yes, it is,” Logan whispered.

“No, it’s not! I bet you everything I have that she wants you, too. Even (deep breath) my precious Mary Puppins.”

Wade quickly pulled out his phone and went to the ‘Find My Phone’ app. He held the results up to Logan’s face. “Look! She’s still at the restaurant! It’s not too far from here. We can leave now, sneak in, sit a reasonable distance away. Just to see how the date is going. If it’s bad, you can swoop in and save her. I’ll even activate the sprinklers so you can have your Notebook kiss-in-the-rain confessional like that other Ryan guy! Come on! Let’s go get your girl!”

Before Logan could respond, Wade hopped up and quickly helped Logan out of your apartment, out of the building, and into his car. Logan’s mind was going about the same speed that Wade was – stupidly fast. He was usually so courageous, not afraid to face any type of danger. This, however, was scaring him shitless.

Getting to you was only half the battle. What if he stepped in to save you but said the wrong thing? What if he said the right thing and you still rejected him? Worst of all, what if you were on the best date of your life?

This was the worst date of your life.

You saw him standing on the passenger side of his car looking expectantly at the door when you first stepped outside. The person matched the profile, thank God. You skipped up to him and offered a big smile and handshake.

“Hi, Blane!”

“Hey, you!” he said, grabbing you by your hand and pulling you in for a hug. You were taken aback by this gesture, but quickly brushed it off to return the hug. Maybe he was just really affectionate, like Wade in a way.

“That’s a nice dress,” he whispered in your ear, his hand slowly making its way down your back. This was not like Wade. This was more than you were ready for so early in your date. Before he could reach your ass, you quickly pulled away and took a big step back. You forced a laugh to relieve any tension and he returned it. Crisis averted. Or so you thought…

Things got worse once you got to the restaurant. It was a lovely place, better than you thought it’d be, with beautiful landscape paintings on almost every wall and candle centerpieces on each table. Getting to your table wasn’t the problem; it was the fact that it took a bit longer than usual for a waiter to come by to get your drink order.

When one finally did come by, a kid who looked like he was working his way through college, he quickly apologized. “Hi, you two! My name is Roger. I’ll be your waiter for this evening. Apologies for the wait time.”

“Finally!” Blane exclaimed. “I thought I was going to have to shoot myself in the head just to get your attention.”

The remark startled the poor boy, who recovered as quickly as he could. “I’m sorry, sir. One of our waitresses had to leave because of a family emergency and I-“

“And I don’t care,” Blane interrupted. “All I care about right now is getting a drink.”

Again, Roger was surprised, as were you. Where the hell was this attitude coming from?

You turned and gave Roger an apologetic look. He simply nodded, took your drink order, and rushed to get it out to you two. He also rushed to get your food order back to the kitchen and out in front of you. As he turned to help another table, Blane grabbed him by his apron and pointed down at his food.

“What is this?” Blane asked.

“Your steak, sir,” Roger answered politely.

Blane rolled his eyes. “No, it’s not. Because I ordered my steak rare.”

“I believe it is rare, sir.”

“Well, I know that it’s not.” Blane then picked up the plate and shoved it into Roger’s hand. He then shooed Roger off while saying, “Go get me another one.”

You looked at Roger again, this time mouthing your apology. He nodded again before heading back to the kitchen. You really should’ve talked to Blane about his behavior. But you couldn’t because was just. Always. Talking.

When he wasn’t being rude to the wait staff, he was being rude to you by not letting you get a single word in. When he wasn’t talking about how much money he was making for his company that was ranked tenth in an industry you couldn’t care less about, he was talking about all the different places he’s been to that had the best alcohol or drugs or good-looking women. When he wasn’t bragging about having lunch with a guy who dated a girl who may or may not have rubbed shoulders with some son of a senator, he was going on and on about how his last girlfriend was a needy psycho who wanted him to spend quality time with her and do things like attend family functions and get-togethers with friends.

“And that’s why I like you,” you heard him say, his voice cutting through your thoughts about how sweet your potatoes tasted. “You’re such a good listener.”

It’s not like I have much of a choice, you thought to yourself, opting to actually say, “Um… thank you.”

“I gotta be honest, though, you look different than your profile.”

“Different… how?” you asked, not sure if you really wanted to know the answer.

“Don’t get me wrong,” he started, “you look nice, but you’re profile picture makes you look hotter. Maybe it’s one of those photos from a few years ago or something. Don’t worry. It’s not going to stop me from taking care of you later.”

You blinked at him. “’Taking care of me?’ What does that mean?”

“I think you know,” he said smugly.

“What makes you think you’re going to ‘take care of me’ later?”

Blane scoffed. “Well, why not? I mean, I’ve been a gentleman. I’m paying for this meal. Why shouldn’t I get a little something in return?”

Oh, hell no.

You finally snapped.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? You’ve been harassing a poor kid who is trying his best! You’ve been talking your head off this entire night! You tried to grab my ass before I even got in your car! You call that being a gentleman?! I call it being a grade-A asshole! I can’t believe I ever agreed to go out with you! You are nothing but a stuck-up, narcissistic, sexist little bitch!”

You breathed deeply after your mini-monologue, staring Blane right in the eyes. His jaw was hanging open so much you thought it might hit the plate where his new steak was. Suddenly, Roger was next to you setting down a fresh vodka tonic. “A refill for you, ma’am,” he simply said. As he turned around, he caught your eye, winked, and mouthed, “On the house.” You smiled and took a long swig of your drink.

Blane eventually straightened up in his seat and cleared his throat. “I may be an asshole, sweetheart, but you’re still going to go home with me. I mean, what’s the alternative? You go back to your sad apartment and spend the night alone?”

“Or, a third option,” you proposed, taking another sip of your drink, “I find someone else. Someone who might actually be able to fuck my brains out.”

Blane chuckled. “That’s cute.”

“You think I can’t do it?”

Roger must’ve put something in your drink because the next thing you knew you were rising out of your seat, grabbing the lining of your panties (a nice lacy pair that you only wore for special occasions), pulling them down your legs, and holding them firmly in your hand.

“See these?” you asked. How could he not? You were holding them right in the middle of the table and his eyes were as wide as saucers. You leaned forward and talked so only he could hear you. “I bet you I can hand these to any man in here and he’ll take me in the restroom and rock my world better than you can even dream of doing.”

Blane took a big gulp and stuttered, “I-I’d like to se-see you t-try.”

“Fine,” you responded. You then took a good look around the restaurant, your eyes scanning every man in sight. The more you looked, though, the more scared you got.

What the hell are you doing? you scolded yourself. What do you actually think is going to happen? Some guy you barely know is going to just blindly follow you into a public restroom after you hand him your dirty underwear? And what if he does follow you? What would Logan think?

Wait, Logan?

You leaned forward a bit in your seat and squinted.

Sure enough, there sat Logan at the other end of the restaurant in a booth with his date, Wade.

Wade managed to get him and Logan a good booth by making quite a scene. Not only were he and Logan a “couple,” but Wade was suffering from a rare form of testicular cancer that was going to kill him within a couple of months. The hostess took pity on him and gave the “couple” a free first round of drinks and a free appetizer. Wade was munching on potato skins while Logan tuned his super-hearing into the conversation between you and Blane. He was amazed at the ego the guy had, going on and on about this and that while you stared off into space.

“Anything juicy going on?” Wade asked.

“Just him talking about his ex,” Logan replied. “He said she tried to get him to go to her grandmother’s birthday instead of letting him play golf with some client.”

“What a bitch!” Wade gasped, taking a big bite of another skin. “The guy, not the girl. Men can be bitches, too. I’m an equal-opportunist.”

“She looks miserable,” Logan said under his breath. He didn’t know whether to feel sad or happy about that; sad because you deserved way better, happy because it meant he still had a shot.

“Go over there, then,” Wade said.

“No.”

“Yes!”

“What the hell would I say?”

“Say that you were in the neighborhood and wanted to say hi.”

“Why would I be in the neighborhood? Tonight is supposed to be movie night.”

“We ran out of Oreos and you went out to get more,” Wade suggested as he sipped his martini.

“Why would I go all the way downtown for Oreos?” Logan turned to Wade.

“Because I asked you to.”

“Why the fuck would you ask me to go all the way downtown for fuckin’ Oreos?”

“Do you have to poke so many holes in my story?!”

“Do you have to be such a shit-for-brains?”

“At least I’m putting suggestions out there! You’re just sitting there looking at her like a lost puppy. Or, kitty? Because of your tuffs? No, no, a puppy. Cats could give two shits about people… which can be you sometimes.”

“Just shut the fuck up,” Logan commanded, slowly turning back around to catch you leaning forward and talking forcefully to Blane. Before he could tune into what you were saying, Wade piped up again.

“Just go over there!”

“Not until I know what’s going on.”

“Tell her she completes you!

“No.”

“Tell her you’d kill for her!”

“No!”

“Tell her you burn for her!”

“Will you stop-?!”

Suddenly, Logan felt a presence next to him. He slowly turned around and there you were, staring down at him. He’s heard people talk about wishing that a hole would come up from the ground and swallow them whole because of severe embarrassment, but he’d never experienced the feeling himself… until now.

Wade darted his eyes back and forth between you two. For once, he didn’t dare interrupt the moment. He was on the edge of his seat.

Finally, you took a deep breath and shoved something into Logan’s hand before darting off. Logan wanted to stop you, but curiosity over what you handed him got the best of him. He looked down, and his brain automatically short-circuited.

You handed him panties.

You handed him your panties.

His wide eyes quickly found you again. Your head was turned to him as your body faced the hallway that led to the restroom. You tried to look cool, but Logan could see the anxiety in your eyes. You nodded in the direction of the restroom before turning around to complete your journey.

Wade and Logan looked at each other, spared a fleeting glance at a stunned Blane, then darted right back to where you had just been.

Logan had to be dreaming. There was no way you were doing what you were doing, suggesting what you were suggesting, unless it was in some sick, delightful fantasy of his.

And yet, he found himself getting up and following you.

He just hoped this fantasy had a happy ending.

You took a huge sigh of relief when you got into the ladies’ room. Not only had you gone through with your stupid bet, you realized that this restroom wasn’t a community one. It had one toilet, one sink with all sorts of fancy soaps and lotions, and a big mirror. You were thankful to have some actual privacy (as much privacy as you could get in a public place).

You closed your eyes and let everything sink in. It was out of your hands now. Logan would either come or not. A part of you desperately hoped he would.

There was a gentle knock on the door that startled you like a gunshot. “Yes?” you answered as evenly as you could.

“It’s me. Logan.”

You gasped softly. You quickly turned and put your hand on the doorhandle. You stopped short of turning it, though, to steel yourself with another deep breath.

You slowly opened the door. He walked inside, meeting you in the middle of the room. You stood about a foot apart from each other.

“Hi,” you whispered nervously.

“Hi,” he echoed.

There he was. Logan. The man who you’ve been pining over for forever. Only he wasn’t how you knew him to be. He seemed… shy. Scared, even. While a part of your felt relieved that he felt the same way as you, another part of you ached for him. You didn’t like seeing him this way. He needed to relax.

You moved a bit closer to gently touch his arms. He closed his eyes for a moment, like he was forcing himself to loosen up, which he eventually did. You continued to boldly move up to his shoulders, his neck, and eventually his cheeks. Your thumbs moved back and forth against his facial hair. You could feel his jaw lock for a second before relaxing. He even moaned a little. You moved even closer, so close your chests were touching.

“Logan?” you beckoned.

He dared to open his eyes. He didn’t seem scared anymore. He seemed to be looking at you with adoration, desire. The realization made you smile.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Logan whispered, his own smile forming as his hands slowly made their way to your hips. He gave you a few gentle squeezes that made your heart flutter and your legs tremble. You closed your own eyes at the sensation, your breathing becoming quick.

Fuck it, you decided.

You finally took the plunge and met his lips. Logan returned the gesture with fervor, your lips molding together perfectly. Your arms wrapped around his neck as his hands went to your back to bring you even closer to him. You don’t know what came over you, but you began pushing Logan back to the wall. Your hands swiftly unbuttoned his shirt, your fingers feeling the fabric of his tank top before moving underneath to feel his hot skin and abs. His eyes shot open in surprise before closing again, trying to slip back into the moment. He then remembered something and opened his eyes again.

The mirror. It was showing him holding a beautiful woman, who was now kissing and sucking on his neck. It was a lovely view, but he could think of something better.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, stopping your movements.

“Nothing,” Logan assured you. “Just look.” He turned you around so you could see what he saw. His arms were wrapped snugly around you. Your hands were right on top of his, securing his hold. You looked right together, like you really fit.

“You are really something, you know that?” he whispered in your ear. He kissed the side of your head before moving to your neck, licking and leaving his own marks. You closed your eyes in pleasure. Your soft moans gradually got louder as his hands moved to your breasts. Your nipples rubbed against the inside of your bra, aching to actually feel his big hands. You settled on the feeling of him switching between gentle and rough squeezes.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this. Wanted you. Ever since I met you. So sweet. So gorgeous.”

“Oh, Logan,” you gasped. “I want you, too.”

“Yeah?” Logan cocked an eyebrow. His hands unexpectedly moved away from your breasts to make a painfully slow descent downwards. “How much, sweetheart?”

“So much,” you answered quickly, hoping it would make Logan go faster. He took his time, though.

His left hand went one way, pulling up your dress to reveal your pussy. The cool air against it made you shiver and shut your eyes tighter. His right hand hovered just above it. Your hand went over his, trying to move it where you needed him most.

“Please, Logan,” you pleaded.

“Please what?” he teased, his hot breath making you shiver even more.

“Please… Please…”

“Come on, baby.”

 “Touch me.”

“Open your eyes.”

You somehow found the strength to obey him. As soon as you did, he slipped a finger inside. You gasped and let your jaw hang open. One of your hands shot up to meet the back of his head, your hold tightening and loosening in time with his movements. He pumped just the one finger inside your folds, slowly, deliberately. His other hand held you in place against him. You forced your eyes to remain open to watch the obscenity of it all. His eyes then met yours in the mirror. His hair was wild because of you and his breathing was harsh against your neck, like he was doing everything in his power to hold back his baser instincts. He was still an animal, though, and you loved it.

After a couple of minutes of this, Logan asked, “Do you want more?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed, nodding your head vigorously.

With a cocky grin, he said, “Play with yourself for me, baby.” You forced yourself to do as he said. Both of your hands went to your breasts, trying to mimic how he made you feel earlier. It wasn’t the same, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered in that moment was that Logan was satisfied at the gesture. He slipped another finger inside you and you moaned happily.

“Keep your eyes open,” he cooed. “Keep them on me.” You obeyed yet again. Logan pressed kisses into your head as his fingers moved a bit faster, a bit harder.

“God, you’re so wet. Just for me, right?”

“Yes! Yes, Logan! Only you!”

During one particularly hard thrust, you moaned loudly. You quickly bit your lip to stifle the sounds. Logan chuckled.

“Careful,” he warned you as he continued. “You don’t want us to get caught, do you?”

“No,” you managed to say.

“You’re doing so good for me. Keep it up and I’ll let you be as loud as you want when we go back to your place.”

The weight of the situation and each of his words suddenly hit you like separate bricks coming from all sorts of directions to create the metaphorical ton.

It was the fact that you were actually getting fingered by your dream guy

It was the fact that this was happening in a public place.

It was the fact that he had no intentions of stopping.

It was the fact that you were almost at your peak, which was great for your pussy but bad for your heart that wanted more.

It was the fact that Logan confirmed there’d be more.

It was the fact that you didn’t know if he meant more sex or more to your relationship.

Logan effectively shut up your brain by adding a third finger to the equation that began circling your clit. One of your hands that was on your breast went back up to his hair to pull hard. He growled and bit hard on your neck in response. You nearly screamed, but Logan was quick and stifled it with a deep kiss.

“Are you almost there?” he asked against your lips.

“Yes,” you breathed into his mouth.

He thrusted his fingers one, two, three more times before tearing himself away from you. Before you could even process what was going on, he knelt down in front of you, pressed you up against the wall by your hips, lifted your leg up over his shoulder, and dove face first into your soaking cunt. Your hand flew over your mouth to cover up the filthy sounds you were making as Logan’s tongue explored your juicy flesh. As soon as he met your clit, you came hard. Logan took everything you gave him. He decided right there in that moment that nothing tasted better than your cum.

By the time he cleaned you up entirely (smart move on his part, you thought in hindsight), your breathing had become less ragged. He slowly lifted his head up and set your leg back down on the ground. He took a long look at you from below. Wade was right; you were a goddess and Logan worshipped you. You finally opened your own eyes and looked back at him.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked.

“No,” you answered. Logan’s face twisted into concern, which made you break out a smile and giggle. “I’m fucking amazing.”

Logan let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Good.” He came back up to you for a kiss, which you happily gave him. You could feel the remnants of your cum on his facial hair. You pulled yourself away from him long enough to wipe it away with your fingers and then lick each one of them clean.

“You are so fucking hot,” Logan said, mesmerized.

“You mind telling that to my date? Maybe along with a ‘thank you’?”

“Why would I even want to speak to that prick?”

“Because if he wasn’t a prick, I wouldn’t have made my stupid bet and this probably wouldn’t have happened.”

“Bet? What bet?”

Your eyes widened in horror. Oh, right. He didn’t know and you didn’t tell him. You looked down in embarrassment, but he caught you by your chin and made you look back at him.

“Hey. What bet?” he asked again, gently. The gentleness didn’t help ease your shame or nervousness. Your lips trembled as you tried to take a deep breath. Tears threatened to come out, but you forced them back as you forced out the truth.

“Blane was being a total jerk and he basically told me he expected me to sleep with him after our date. I told him I’d rather be with anyone else and made a stupid bet that I could hand my panties to any man in the restaurant and he would fuck me in here. I don’t know what came over me or if I’d actually go through with it if it were someone else. But then I saw you and I was so relieved. And please don’t think I did this just because of a bet! I’ve liked you for a long time but I thought you only saw me as a friend! That’s why I went out on this fucking date in the first place! But I want you, Logan! Please believe me! I don’t just want this, what we did in here! I want more with you! I want to be with you! Please don’t-!”

Logan shut you up again, this time by pulling you by your waist and giving you a hard kiss. You were hesitant at first, unsure of the meaning of this. You eventually melted into him, wrapping your arms around his neck like before. He tongue demanded access to your mouth and you granted it. If this was the last time you were to be in close proximity to him, hell in any kind of proximity to him, you wanted to make it worth it.

Logan eased up on you and pulled his head back, never letting you out of his sight or grasp.

“I want you, too, sweetheart,” he finally admitted.

“W-What?” you asked, your brain still in a fog. “But… But I-“

“Do you know why I’m even here tonight?”

You opened your mouth to answer but promptly closed it. You actually didn’t know.

“Wade and I were trying to watch the movie and the fucker called me out on my bullshit. He knew I liked you, too, and convinced me to come here to watch over you and maybe try and steal you away from your date. I wasn’t gonna make a move, though. I didn’t know if you wanted me. Or even if you did, I thought I’d screw it up somehow. Then you did what you did…” He then pulled your panties from the pocket of his jeans and held them up high in front of you. You blushed. “And then we did what we did…” You blushed harder. “It’s all fucking crazy, I know, but I guess it beats not happening at all. I got you, baby, and I don’t want to let you go.”

You dared to look at him for any trace of dishonesty. You didn’t find it. He still looked at you with adoration and desire.

He wanted you.

Logan wanted you.

“What a fucking night,” you sighed.

“Tell me about it,” Logan added.

You both chuckled at the absurdity and luck of the entire situation. Logan took your panties and put them back in his pocket, giving it a nice pat. He then leaned in for a quick kiss, which you gave him without hesitation.

“Shall we?” Logan asked, holding his arm out for you.

You nodded with pride. “Absolutely.”

Poor Blane was just minding his own business when a certain Mouth slid into the empty seat across from him.

“Hi! Blane, isn’t it?”

“Um…”

“Fantastic! Wade Wilson, Matchmaker. So, here’s the thing, Blane, you are a certified douchebag who does not deserve the sunshine and sweetness that is my best friend. Therefore, it brings me great pleasure to let you know that your date is officially over. I mean, it was over when she approached my other best friend and handed him her undergarments, which are really cute. (I need to ask her where she shops.) Anywho, as I speak, he is in the restroom with her, definitely giving her the dick-down of a lifetime. And I don’t imagine it will be the only one of the night. I do imagine, though, that they’ll be done soon, which means you will have the great opportunity of watching as they leave hand in hand like the power couple they are. I recommend leaving while you can to take care of yourself back at your chic yet empty and sad penthouse apartment with the flesh light you keep next to your bottle of Viagra and hidden copy of hentai. Just don’t forget to leave some money for the bill. It’s the least you can do for being such a dickwad.”

If Blane was stunned before, he was flabbergasted now. The knife was twisted even deeper when you and Logan emerged from the restroom, hand in hand like Wade predicted. Logan’s shirt was still open, revealing his tank top that revealed his fit form. The flushed look on your face and the bite mark on your neck were hard to miss. You both had shit-eating grins as you walked to the table.

“Hey, kids!” Wade greeted you. “Blane and I were talking about dessert. Care to join in?”

You and Logan looked at each other before you responded, “Thanks, but I think we’re good. We’re just going to head home. Blane, I hope I never see you again. Good night and goodbye.”

You swiftly led Logan and yourself out of the restaurant. Wade and Blane watched Logan lean in next to you and whisper something (probably about how you were already a dessert for him) that made you giggle like a schoolgirl.

Wade could’ve sworn he saw some tears form in Blane’s eyes before the man threw down some money and rushed out in the opposite direction.

“Toodle-oo, Blane!” Wade called after him. He then scrooped up the money to count it properly.

Roger eventually came back and asked, “Is everything alright, sir?”

“Are you kidding?!” Wade exclaimed. “My two best friends are finally together. Another spoiled manbaby is going home with crap in his diaper. And there’s enough money for the bill plus beignets for dessert! You bet your ass everything’s alright!”