Nexus of Fate | Logan/Crucified Wolverine x Mutant Reader

2 | Bound

The silence between you and Wolverine was thick, punctuated only by his ragged breathing. You felt your heart race as you stood there, your hand still resting on his leg. His skin was warm, a stark contrast to the cold metal of the nails that bound him to the cross. You could see the strain in his muscles, the way they bulged against the nails, and it made your pulse quicken.

He was in so much pain, yet here you were, utterly captivated by him.

Your eyes roamed over his body again, taking in every detail—the tautness of his abdomen, the hard lines of his biceps, the way his chest rose and fell with each breath. His hair, wild and untamed, framed his face, and for a moment, you found yourself wanting to reach out and run your fingers through it.

But you didn't. Instead, you leaned in closer, your voice a soft whisper. "Logan... can you hear me?"

For a moment, there was nothing. Then, just when you were about to lose hope, he groaned—a deep, guttural sound that sent a shiver down your spine. His head tilted slightly, and for the first time, his gaze sharpened, focusing on you with an intensity that made your breath catch.

"Who... who are you?" His voice was rough, like gravel, but it was the most beautiful sound you'd ever heard.

Your heart skipped a beat.

You licked your lips, trying to steady your voice. "My name is [Your name]. I'm... I'm here to help you, Logan. I'm a friend."

He narrowed his eyes, skepticism and pain etched into his features. "[Your Name]? What... what the hell are you doing here?"

You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. The truth was complicated, and you weren't even sure how much he could handle in his current state. "I'm here because... I'm looking for someone. Someone like you."

His jaw tightened, and he winced as another wave of pain coursed through his body. "You... came to the wrong place. There's nothing left... here."

Your chest tightened at the hopelessness in his voice. He was right—this universe was a wasteland, and he was its last, broken remnant. But you couldn't just leave him like this, not when you felt this overwhelming pull toward him.

"I can't... I can't just leave you like this," you murmured, your hand sliding down his lower leg to where the nails bit into his feet. You tugged at them, hoping against hope that they would give way, but they held fast, unyielding.

Logan watched you, his expression unreadable. "You can't... break them. I've tried."

Your heart sank as you realized the futility of your efforts. But you couldn't give up. Not yet. You pulled at the nails again, your strength no match for the metal, but you couldn't stop yourself from trying.

"Please... let me help you," you whispered, your voice trembling with desperation.

He grunted in pain, his muscles straining against the nails. "You... can't. You should go. Before... it's too late."

But you didn't move. You couldn't. There was something about him that held you in place, something more than just his appearance. It was the pain in his eyes, the vulnerability beneath his rugged exterior, that made you want to stay.

"I'm not leaving you," you said, your voice firmer this time. "I'm a mutant too. I can fly..."

His gaze softened just a fraction, a flicker of something almost like gratitude in his eyes. "Flying, huh? Could use some of that power... right now."

You smiled faintly, trying to inject some levity into the situation. "Yeah, I can see that."

Logan's lips curled into a small, almost imperceptible smile. It was a fleeting thing, gone as quickly as it appeared, but it warmed you from the inside out. You moved closer, your body nearly pressing against his as you examined the nails again, looking for any possible way to free him.

But there was nothing. No latch, no mechanism, nothing you could use to set him free.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice heavy with regret. "I can't... I can't get you out."

He shook his head slightly, his voice strained. "Doesn't matter. I'm... used to it."

Used to it. The words hit you like a punch to the gut. How many times had he been in situations like this, tortured and trapped with no one to save him? And yet, despite it all, he was still here, still fighting.

You couldn't help but admire that strength, even as it broke your heart. Hovering just inches from his face, you could feel the heat of his breath mingling with your own. His eyes, though filled with pain, held a depth of resilience that stirred something profound within you. Each breath he took, each subtle shift of his body, was a reminder of the incredible spirit that burned within him, despite the harsh reality of his situation.

"I wish I could do more," you said softly, your hand sliding up his arm to rest against his chest. The steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your fingers was a small comfort, a reminder that he was still alive, still fighting.

Logan's eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, the world around you faded away. There was nothing but the two of you, standing on the precipice of something that neither of you fully understood.

"You're... doing more than you know," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine.

You felt a surge of warmth at his words, a strange mix of relief and desire that left you breathless. Without thinking, you slowly leaned in closer, your lips hovering just inches from his.

It was a reckless move, one born of desperation and something more primal. But you couldn't stop yourself. You needed to feel him, to taste him, to know that he was real and not just a figment of this twisted world.

Logan's breath hitched as your lips brushed against his, a feather-light touch that sent a jolt of electricity through your body. He didn't pull away—instead, he leaned into the kiss, his lips parting slightly as he deepened the connection.

The kiss was everything you hadn't known you needed—intense, raw, and filled with a hunger that had been simmering beneath the surface since the moment you'd laid eyes on him. His mouth moved against yours with a desperate kind of need, as if he was trying to draw strength from the connection, to fight against the pain that wracked his body.

Your hands roamed over his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles as your kiss grew more heated, more urgent. You could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles strained beneath your touch, and it only fueled your desire.

But there was something else too—something tender, almost fragile, in the way he kissed you, as if he was afraid that this moment might slip away if he wasn't careful.

"Logan," you breathed against his lips, your voice a soft whisper. "I... I want to help you."

He groaned softly, his voice rough with pain and desire. "You already are... darlin'."

The term of endearment sent a thrill through you, and you pressed your body against his, your lips trailing down his neck as you tried to memorize every inch of him. The feel of his skin beneath your lips, the way he shuddered at your touch—it was intoxicating, and you couldn't get enough.

But you knew your time was limited. Deadpool would be back soon, and you'd be pulled away from this universe, from this Logan. The thought made your heart ache, but it also made you more determined to make the most of the time you had.

You pulled back slightly, your eyes meeting his as you tried to convey everything you were feeling—desire, compassion, regret, and something deeper, something you couldn't quite name.

Logan's eyes softened, and he leaned in to press a tender kiss to your lips, a stark contrast to the raw hunger that had filled your earlier kisses. "Stay... just a little longer."

You nodded, your heart clenching at the vulnerability in his voice. "I will. I promise."

And as you floated there, you pressed your lips to his, you realized that no matter what happened, no matter how much time you had left, you would do everything in your power to be there for him, to offer him whatever comfort and solace you could.

Because in this moment, in this twisted, broken world, he was all that mattered.

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