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ethanhoewke · 3 days ago

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Kid?

Logan Howlett x fem!mutant!reader A/N: I haven’t watched X-Men since I was a child, so I can’t promise this is going to be canon-compliant. I haven’t watched DP & W either, I’ve just been influenced by that one gif where Hugh Jackman shakes his head like a dog. I feel FERAL Also, I am not good at superhero names or coming up with creative powers. So you’re a mutant with matter manipulation and they call you Flux. I mean, superhero names are inherently ridiculous so I think this works. (Don’t judge me, I’m just here for the sexy man) Summary: You walk in on Logan and Jean in a compromising position and feel your heart break. You really thought he loved you, you were so wrong. (Or were you?)

It was your own fault, you should have knocked before you busted through the door. You only have yourself to blame as you struggle to catch your breath and swallow down the lump in your throat. The image of Logan standing between Jean’s bare legs is going to haunt you for a while. Their faces will keep you awake at night, cringing at yourself while you remember the humiliating moment.

You rush towards the door, a stupidly giddy skip to your step. You were a mutant, a superhuman, and getting a chance to talk to your crush should not have you giggling like a schoolgirl. Still, you’re blind to all logic when it comes to Logan.

You turn the corner, spotting the medbay and nearly ramming into the door you know he’s lurking behind. Charles had told you where to find him. Of course, you hadn’t paid attention to the odd tone of voice when he had very clearly warned you to knock. All you’d heard was Logan’s name and you’d zoned out for the rest of the conversation.

And, of course, you don’t knock. You grab the door’s handle and bust in, “Hey!” Your eyes widen and your stomach plummets with a depressing plop to the floor. Your eyes nearly bug out of your head when you see the way Jean and Logan are entangled in each other. He’s leaning over her, the muscles and veins in his neck pulsing with strain. Normally, that sight would have you nearly drooling.

Instead, all you can see is the flush on Jean’s cheeks and the way her pupils are dilated with want. Her nails are digging into his back, bare legs twined around his waist. There’s no way to misinterpret this. No way for you to later assure yourself that this was all just a misunderstanding.

The words stumble out of your mouth in a disjointed mess that even you can’t decipher. You stand there, jaw opening and closing like a fish out of water before you finally get it together. “Charles,” you stutter out, his name sounding like a question. You wince and finally tear your gaze away from them. “Sorry,” you chuckle, trying to play off your hurt as humor. “Charles needs us all for a mission.”

You don’t give them a chance to respond, you slam the door closed, ignoring what you think might be someone calling your name.

You shake off the mortifying memory and groan. Your head falls into your hands and you grip at your face until the pain distracts you from the embarrassment. It’s not too hard to push it all down, to pretend what happened didn’t make your heart crumble away into nothing.

Maybe it’s because you’re a mutant that you’re so used to rejection. You’re used to constantly being disappointed by people around you. Your childhood was nothing but cruelty, your crush not liking you back can’t compare to half of what you went through.

That’s what you tell yourself, at least, to try and pretend it doesn’t hurt as much as it does. You shove it down until you think you can’t feel that dull ache anymore. And when Jean and Logan walk into the room, looking more put together, you smile at Logan like you always do. It doesn’t turn down at the corners, your eyes don’t water. You take in a deep breath and look utterly unaffected.

He sits down beside you and leans towards you. “I can explain-”

You cut him off and shake your head. “Forget about it. I should have knocked.” You turn towards Charles who wheels himself to the front of the room. You dismiss Logan and ignore the way his stare burns into the side of your head.

Charles looks to Jean and Logan, a smile starting. Then his gaze drifts towards you and your chest deflates when you see the look on his face. He knows, the old miser probably coasted over your thoughts and he knows. He sends you a sympathetic look that makes you feel like a little girl who just got told unicorns don’t exist. “Jean, Logan, glad that you’ve finally joined us.”

Logan nods and leans back in his chair. But his eyes remain fixed on you and it makes you wish you could stab a fork into them. You let out a short, irritated huff of air and frown at yourself. Maybe you were a little more angry than you would like to admit.

You blame Logan for that. You never would have fallen so deep into infatuation if you hadn’t believed there was even a sliver of a chance with him. Always speaking so kindly with you when he would barely spare anyone a second glance. Constantly doing checkups on you after a particularly harsh training session with Charles.

Your mind runs over all the small things with him, everything you’ve done together. And you’re hit with a sudden nauseating thought. Oh my god, what if he sees me paternally?

You force yourself not to physically react but inside your throwing up and fucking freaking out. You feel a sudden spark of alarm from Charles and quickly do your best to fortify your mind so he doesn’t see your major mental freakout.

You’re not that much younger than him. Well, it’s not illegal, your crush on Logan. But what if this entire time, when you’ve been falling harder and harder for him, he’s just been platonically taking care of you? You’ve seen him do it plenty of times for the younger kids, as reluctant as he is to admit it.

You’re spiraling further and further into panic. So much so that you have no idea what’s even being discussed or what’s going on. You get onto the jet and have to ask Storm what you’re doing. She gives you a confused look but tells you nonetheless. Just some recon on a potential mutant trafficking ring. Nothing out of the ordinary, as depressing as that is. There shouldn’t be much violence, which is why your group is particularly small today.

You nod your head, moving like you’re in a daze as you throw yourself onto a seat. Logan sits beside you, an alarmed look on his face. “You alright, kid?”

The nickname, which is used to make your stomach flutter, makes you want to throw up. How have you missed it for this long? It was laid out so plainly before you. Of course, he doesn’t want you. Not when he has perfect Jean. Bile rises in your throat with a vicious ferocity when you glare over at Jean.

There’s a sudden petty, vindictive rage fueling you. The type you should have abandoned in high school, especially now that you’re grown. Instead, you feel like giving into Logan’s idea of what you are. You feel like reacting to all of this petulantly.

You ignore Logan and instead catch Jean’s eyes. Slowly, and with as much intention as you can force into your gaze, you look from her to Logan and then Scott. Her eyes widen and Logan scoffs beside you. She shakes her head minutely, silently begging you not to say anything. You smile at her and stand up.

You take a step towards Scott and Logan calls out an irritated, “Kid.” You ignore him and Jean eyes you warily as you approach. She stands like she’s ready to fight you and take the jet down just to keep you quiet. You reach Scott and can hear the way Jean takes in a sharp breath.

“Scott,” he looks up at you with his brows raised. There's a pause before you speak. Dragged on too long for Scott not to realize you’re planning something.

Jean takes a step towards you and you grin, “Mind checking my cuffs?” Scott gives you an odd look and his confusion only gets worse as Jean slumps onto the seat beside him. She’s not even trying to hide her relief. Scott shakes his head and holds his hands out, fingers gently probing around the cuffs on your wrists. The ones that keep your powers in check.

You’re still new to welding them. And they’re too entwined with your emotions for you to just have free range with them. If you hadn’t had the cuffs on this morning, you’re afraid you might have just turned everything around you into nothing but dust.

“They look fine, Flux.” His tone betrays his thoughts. He doesn’t know why you’d come to him for this when it’s Charles who usually deals with it. But this stupid, petty little display wasn’t for poor oblivious Scott. It was for the woman sitting next to him. The redhead whose still drilling holes into your skull.

You’ve got leverage over her that you’ve never had before. Scott wouldn’t take her little foray with Logan very well. And all it would take is a flick of your wrist to give him a very clear image of exactly what you’d seen. Then, her picture-perfect relationship would be over in a matter of seconds. You’re sure Logan would be more than pleased. But he doesn’t seem to understand that Jean just wants to have fun with him, she’d never choose him over Scott.

“Thanks,” there’s a bite to your tone that you’re not used to. You usually keep your emotions relatively in control. That way you won’t have to wear these cuffs one day. But you feel volatile today. You’re channeling your hurt and turning it into misguided anger.

You drop your wrists to your sides and stalk toward the front, hovering behind Charle’s and Storm’s chairs so you don’t have to look at the others. It doesn’t take long for you to feel the floor trembling under heavy booted steps.

Logan’s arms rest on the headrest of the chairs, bracketing you in between them so you can’t escape. He leans forward until his chest is pushed against yours and you can feel every ridge of his muscled torso pressing into you. You try not to suck in a breath, try not to play into the cliche of instantly forgetting why you’re angry when you’re faced with those muscles of his. It is hard, though, because he’s so handsome and so warm and you just want to melt into him.

“Wanna explain what the hell that was?” His voice is so low, whispering against the shell of your ear so only you can hear. You feel the vibrations of it against your back, his tone more gravelly than it should be.

You glance over your shoulder at him, face placid and blank. “What? Just needed some help.” Storm looks over at you both and rolls her eyes.

Logan opens his mouth to say something but she cuts him off. “Put a pin in the lover’s spat, we’re landing.” Using just a bit of your power, you push Logan off of you and head towards the back of the jet. There’s a slight jolt as you land and then the ramp opens up and you’re practically running into the snowy forest.

You don’t know where you are, mainly because you weren’t paying attention, you just know it's fucking freezing. The leather of your suit isn’t doing much to help fight against the chill. Charles stays on the jet and reminds you all that this is only meant to be recon. You’re partnered up with Logan, and as much as it irritates you, you’re not stupid enough to argue against it.

You have to put aside your personal grievances for this mission. You can’t risk the safety of mutants because the guy you like likes another girl. Logan seems pleased about it, stubbornly staying by your side even when you make it clear you want space.

You both linger behind the other’s as Storm leads you through the forest. Jean is being more touchy with Scott than normal. Either to assuage her own guilt or to rub it in Logan’s face, you’re not sure which. You nearly gag as you watch them whisper to one another, you glance over at Logan to see if he notices.

You’re startled when you see him already staring at you. His lips tick up into something mischievous when he catches your eye. That smug smirk on his face as he leans in towards you. “Wanna tell me what’s got you so pissed off?”

You roll your eyes and tamp down the rising tide of anger. “Nothing,” you bite out, jaw clenching the longer you stare at the back of Jean’s head. You’re surprised you haven’t chipped a tooth with how hard you’re grinding your teeth together.

He scoffs, not believing you for a second. He doesn’t say anything, just gives you an expectant stare. You can taste the words forming on your tongue, an irritating urge to just spill your guts overcoming you. Before you can stop yourself you blurt out, “I’m a little surprised that’s all.”

“Oh yeah, ‘bout what?” You hate how amused he sounds, the chuckle just lying in wait under his words. Like your anger is funny to him, like he didn’t just break your stupid fucking heart.

You stop walking, not feeling as intimidating as you want while you shiver and huddle into yourself. He seems perfectly at ease in his leather jacket and beater, still refusing to wear the uniform. He leans back and looks at you with a fondness that you can’t tell if you love or hate. “You and little Miss Perfect.” You spit the nickname with enough venom to make both of your eyes widen.

Logan rolls his eyes and takes a step towards you, again, Storm interrupts you both. “Guys, really?” Everyone turns around to stare and you will the heat in your face away. “Not the time,” she scolds and you brush past Logan to catch up with the others.

You come upon a warehouse, it’s nearly camouflaged under all the snow. You see two guards waiting outside the metal doors and you all disperse behind the trees. Storm glances towards Jean who focuses on the guards. They drop to the floor and you wave your hands, their guns melting into puddles of metal.

Logan and Scott move forward, sliding the large metal doors open. You wince at the loud screeching as the rust flakes off the sides. There’s a collective quiet as you all hold your breath, waiting for them to give the all-clear. Once they run inside and run back out, you and the others quickly get to your feet and rush into the warehouse. Logan closes the doors again as you make it inside.

“No one here?” Storm checks. Scott shakes his head and you frown. That doesn’t make any sense. Why would there be guards if there was nothing inside?

Your question is, unfortunately, answered a minute later. You find a pile of metal crates stacked on top of each other. A large beige tarp covers them. You tug at the corner, letting the fabric slide off. Your eyes flutter with disappointment, “Guys! Over here,” mutants sit inside the crates. Each of them stares at you with varying degrees of mistrust and fear.

As awful as it is, you’ve gotten used to these quiet depressing missions. There aren’t usually many mutants in one place. They don’t like to keep the product in one spot for too long. There are only four kids here. The youngest is eleven and the oldest is seventeen. There’s nothing physically telling about their abilities so you assume it must be psychic powers.

They don’t want to come with you until you all give them a demonstration of your powers. Proving that you’re not just trapping them and taking them somewhere worse. You’re nearly out the door when Charles's voice rings loudly through all of your minds.

You wince at the volume, hands coming up to grip at your hair as he shouts, “Behind you!” A gunshot rings out, something hot rips across your wrist and you gasp in pain. There’s a clatter of metal as your cuff drops to the ground, the bullet having destroyed it. Without them both, they’re useless. One won’t work without the other.

You glance up at Logan, a panicked look on your face. You can already feel the tidal wave of power thrashing and building in your chest. It’s been so long with the safety net that you forgot how bad it gets without the cuffs.

“We need to get you out of here!” He shouts over the gunfire. He herds the group behind a cluster of metal shipment boxes. It provides enough cover for you all to try and figure out an escape plan.

You listen to the other’s worried voices, each of them trying to console the kids. You don’t know their powers yet. Don’t know what might go wrong if they get too scared and can’t control their abilities.

You can’t speak, breaths coming short and fast as you clutch your wrist to your chest. You know it’s delusional, hoping that if you keep a tight grip like the cuff you might be able to control yourself. You can already feel the energy leaking out of you, the ends of everyone’s hair stands on end. The wall in front of you warps and cracks like it can’t decide if it’s liquid or solid.

You grit your teeth and look only at Storm. “You need to get out,” you force the words out. It causes physical pain to try and keep everything at bay. You can feel pressure building in your forehead, pushing out until you think you might explode.

“We’re not leaving you,” Logan snaps. There’s shouting going on behind you, a pause as they all reload their guns.

“Wasn’t a question,” you grit out. You look towards Jean and there’s a moment where you both put aside your differences. You both know how stubborn he is, how much he’ll fight against leaving you behind. Regenerative powers or not, it's dangerous to even be close to your gift now. You can see them all straining against the ebbing flow of your powers. Their skin shifts unnaturally like you’re already altering the atoms of their being.

This is why you’re only allowed to train with Charles and Jean. They can get in your head, shut it down when you can’t. You’re not sure you’re going to survive yourself. Logan glances between the two of you and practically growls at Jean, “Don’t you fuckin’ dare-”

His words trail off into an unintelligible slur as he slumps forward, Jean having knocked him out with her powers. Scott grabs him and grunts under the weight of his body. “I’ll cover you,” you gasp the words out. Anything but focusing on your powers causes physical strain that makes you feel like you’re being tugged in a hundred different directions. “Just get them out,” you nod towards the kids.

Storm nods and you slip out of cover. It isn’t hard to push your powers in one direction, to solidify the air in front of you so the bullets ricochet harmlessly off. You listen to the whine of the metal door and wait for the others to be gone.

“They’re in the jet,” Charles's voice rings out. “Don’t do this,” he warns. You can’t think of a response, you’re not even sure what you would say. You never thought you would be able to approach death this calmly, or that this would be how you die. It feels almost pathetic, dying because you lost control on a recon mission.

At least those kids are safe. It’s not a bad reason to die. Just not great. You glance down at the other cuff on your right hand, the air around it fluctuates until it melts off your wrist like liquid metal. With the last barely there tether off your powers, you close your eyes and release the tidal wave.

It feels like a dam exploding. It doesn’t leak fluidly from you, it rips through you like a hailstorm of knives. Tears apart anything in its path and rewrites the molecular build of everything in its path. Screams echo through the air as men’s bones turn into brittle dust and their hearts morph into something inorganic. You’re blind to everything around you, vision clouded by the horrific release of energy.

You can feel warmth leaking down your face. Blood still pours from the wound on your wrist, and fresh blood from other wounds you can’t even feel. You don’t know when the screams stop, or when you’re finally drained. But you feel like an empty husk as you drop to the floor, your head bouncing harshly against the cement as everything goes black.

“I’m gonna kill you,” Logan says with a grin, glaring at Scott even though it’s Charles who is holding him back. He’s got a firm mental grasp on Logan, keeping him locked into place while he focuses on the warehouse.

They’re waiting for the all-clear. The others know there’s always the possibility that they’re going to be collecting a body. But none of them are willing to say that, not with the look on Logan’s face. His muscles look ready to pop out of his skin with how much he’s fighting against Charles’s hold.

Scott backs away from Logan with a scoff. He stands near Jean, but she can’t take her eyes off the restrained man. Nothing had happened this morning, Flux had seen to that. Interrupting them just as they’d started. Seeing the way he’s acting now, she’s starting to believe that nothing is ever going to happen.

He’d looked like he was about to dismiss her when she started making a move. She can see the anger on his face, it seems he’s only ever pissed off. But underneath that, as much as he hides it, she can see the fear. He’s terrified that they're going to walk in there and you’re going to be dead.

Jean can feel the fear of the others as well. They’ve only seen you lose control once and that had almost leveled the mansion. Charles had stopped you then, but the loss of the cuff had been so sudden Jean just barely had enough strength to keep the others blocked from your powers. She didn’t have enough time to shut you down.

Jean, as much as she’s tried to deny it and dismiss her suspicions, can’t look Logan in the eye and ignore it anymore. It’s never been her that he’s wanted. The way he trails along beside you, always prodding and poking until you’re pissy and mouthing off. It’s not done because he finds antagonizing people fun, it's because he loves seeing you all worked up and passionate. He doesn’t view you through the same platonic lens he does the others. You’re something else to him, something she doesn’t want to name, afraid of the bitter taste it will leave on her tongue.

Charles slumps back in his chair and Logan suddenly lunges forward. He looks a little surprised by the sudden freedom of movement, but before any of them can stop him he’s running out of the jet. “Logan,” Jean tries to call after him but he’s already a distant blur.

Scott sighs and starts down the ramp. “Come on,” he mutters. He’s the last one who should be coming along. If anything is wrong with you, he’ll end up being Logan’s punching bag. Jean follows reluctantly, she’s not sure she wants to see what’s happened.

Your powers are too similar in their volatile nature. The way they rule you and come so close to destroying you when you use them too much, is too familiar to Jean. She doesn’t want to see you lying dead on the floor and be reminded of her own mortality. But someone needs to make sure Logan is stuck on a leash.

They reach where the warehouse should be. It’s nothing but a pile of rubble now. Throughout the wreckage, Jean can make out odd pools of liquid, some writhing, others still. She can only assume that these had been the men shooting at them. She doesn’t see your body, none of them do. But Logan isn’t giving up.

He lifts different pieces of metal and tosses them off into the forest. Jean doesn’t sense your presence anywhere but she doesn’t have the heart to tell Logan to give up. After a few minutes of searching, she almost tells him to quit. But she can’t see him anymore. He’s disappeared somewhere behind a particularly large pile of roofing. A moment later, Logan stands up. His jacket is gone, wrapped around the body in his arms. None of them are close enough to see if you’re breathing. And he doesn’t say a word as he brushes past them, just keeps going back to the jet. Ororo, Scott, and Jean all share a silent look. None of them prepared for the potential fallout that’s going to happen after this.

The first thing you feel is two familiar bands of metal around your wrists. The comforting feeling of the cuffs is enough to have you sinking further into the pillows surrounding you. Then you hear the beeping in your ear, feel the cool blow of AC, and become startlingly aware of the fact that you’re in a bed you don’t recognize.

You groan, eyes peeling open painfully as your lashes get stuck on your skin. You reach up to rub at your face but your arms feel too weak to lift. You give up on the thought, instead staring up at the ceiling and waiting for your vision to refocus.

A throat clears in front of you and you nearly jump out of your skin. Sitting at the end of your bed, arms crossed and a fierce glare on his face is Logan. His feet are propped up on the small table beside you. He quirks a brow and gives you a sardonic grin, “Finally awake, princess?”

Normally the name would have you up and doing somersaults, but there’s something distinctly negative and disappointed lacing his tone. It squashes any and all butterflies in your stomach. You grimace as you try and sit up. Logan is up in an instant, an annoyed look still on his face as he helps you up.

You can’t help your dopey smile at how gentle his hands are on you. Even pissed off, he treats you so kindly. Maybe it’s the drugs relaxing you, or the fact that you almost died, but you can’t remember whatever made you mad at him. You can only feel the slide of his calloused hands against your arms, the way you shiver under his touch and crave more.

He pulls the chair closer to you with a loud scratch of metal feet on the linoleum. You groan at the loud sound and he huffs, throwing himself down in the seat. “How do you feel?”

Your head sinks back against the wall and you finally realize you’re in the medbay. It’s why everything smells so sterile. “Like I got hit by a semi.”

He barely lets you finish your thought before he spits out, “What the fuck were you thinking?” He doesn’t ease you into this at all and you frown. You’re not sure why you would expect him to ever beat around the bush. That’s not his style, he’s always been blunt. Even when others wish he wouldn’t be.

“What else was I supposed to do?” You ask, voice weak. Your throat feels like it’s been ripped apart. Idly, you wonder if you had been screaming in the warehouse or if this was just general strain from the whole ordeal.

“Not put yourself at risk like that.” He leans forward, voice stern and bordering on shouting. You know he’s holding back. As much as he wants to lay into you right now, he’s stopping himself from going completely out of his mind. You appreciate it, but you almost wish he would just yell at you. You wish you had a reason to resent him, to finally get over him. “Not have Jean knock me out like that. You don’t get to make those decisions for me.”

It’s completely inappropriate and horrible timing, but you can’t help but scoff at the mention of Jean’s name. Can you not have one conversation that’s not tainted by the mention of the redhead?

Logan’s mouth snaps shut and he glares at you in disbelief. You squeeze your eyes shut, not willing to face him as embarrassment washes over you. No wonder he always calls you kid. You’re not exactly acting like an adult. You’re being a brat and for such a stupid reason too.

Just because you like him doesn’t mean he has to reciprocate. You can’t just force your feelings on someone. “Logan,” you whisper his name, “Sorry. I’m sorry-”

He cuts you off before you can finish. Some of the anger, but not all, has ebbed from his expression. He almost looks like he’s smiling. “Jean? That’s what this is about? Jealous or something, sweetheart?”

You sputter, shocked little noises leaving you but no words. After a solid minute of restarting a sentence you don’t know how to end you finally land on a squeaky, “Who?” If you weren’t so mortified, you might have just thrown yourself out the window. Out of every cop-out you could have gone with you chose to just pretend you didn’t know who she was. Maybe you could make this work, like selective amnesia.

Your shame only builds as Logan laughs. You cover your face and wish you could bury yourself six feet deep and never come up. You feel two rough hands wrap around your wrists, tugging your own away from your face. You don’t have the energy to fight back, so you keep your eyes on his chin. Too afraid to meet his gaze.

“Come on,” he mutters, gently nudging your chin up until you’re forced to look at him. You're caught off guard by the look in his eyes. You recognize it, but you’d only ever seen it directed at Jean. It’s the same way you’ve always looked at him. Pure unguarded want and desire.

The hand on your chin drifts back, fingers tangling in your hair and gently resting on your jaw. He tugs you forward until your lips are nearly touching, breaths mingling with every exhale. “Only ever wanted you, darlin'.’”

The kiss catches you off guard. It shouldn’t, deep down you knew it was coming, but the intensity behind it, the way you can practically taste how bad he wants this, wants you, catches you off guard. You lean into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting yourself melt into his hold.

His free hand drifts to your waist and clutches the flimsy hospital gown until you hear it tear. You part your lips, deepening the kiss so you can finally taste him. It’s cigars and whiskey, something you should hate but is entirely intoxicating when he’s holding you so tightly. Fireworks are going off in your mind, sparks darting between your fingers as the cuffs struggle to contain all the energy suddenly pushing out of you.

He can feel you holding back, squeezing you like it’s a promise he can take it. Take everything you throw at him. You let go as much as your cuffs will allow you. Let the energy blanket you both so you can’t hear your heart monitor going off like crazy. So you don’t feel anything other than each other. You think you’re going to devour each other like you’ll just keep kissing until neither of you can take it anymore. You don’t want to let go of him, don’t want to lose this moment.

But you have to breathe. You don’t get to just keep living the way he does. You pull away from him slowly, every part of you dreading separating from him. His forehead drops against your own, his laughter playing along your lips as he finally hears the monitor going haywire.

You groan, flicking your wrist and shutting it off so it can’t betray how flustered you are anymore. He gently nudges you aside so he can sit beside you on the bed. You don’t waste a second before you’re draping yourself across his chest and siphoning his warmth. He chuckles, arms coming up to wrap around you.

“Can’t believe you were jealous of Jean.”

“Shut up,” you snipe. You look up at him and glare, “How else do you explain what you two were doing?”

He leans forward and gives you a smug grin. “She came onto me, sweetheart.” Your face screws up in distaste and jealousy. She’s going to need to learn to keep her hands to herself. He seems to feel the way you tense up, he huffs in amusement and rubs your back. “Relax, you’re gonna blow your fuse again.”

You glance down at your wrists and nuzzle further into him. You can’t believe you could have been laying on him this whole time. You never want to use a blanket again, not when you’ve got him. “I’ll be fine now that I’ve got my cuffs.”

His hand stills on your bicep. He squeezes it before his hand drifts up to your chin and he tilts your face up again. “I don’t ever want to see that again.” You’re a little surprised by the sudden shift in tone, but you knew this was coming.

“I had to, Logan. I either took you all down with me or I went on my own.”

Logan frowns and takes in a deep breath. You place a hand on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. He smiles down at you, “Next time, take me with you. I’m not fucking dealing with Summers without you.”

You can’t help but chuckle. Your face grows warm and your chest expands with some odd gleeful feeling as he laces your fingers together. “Deal,” you whisper, still smiling at him.

A/N: Okay, this might be shit, I’m not sure. I sort of rushed the ending because as I was writing this I had another idea for him. I guess I’m officially off my hiatus.

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ethanhoewke · 3 days ago

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BIRDS OF A FEATHER༄

the tva erased you from your timeline when logan died, you've been living in the void since then.

angst + fluff. no use of y/n. english isn't my first language (!)

you couldn't take your eyes off them.

you were at the table sitting next to logan, on his other side was laura. he held wade's dog while she played with it and you couldn't take your eyes off them. you couldn't believe it. you had to pinch yourself a few times to confirm that you weren't dreaming.

you thought you'd never see a scene like that ever again. the two of them together. how many times you had looked at the sky and cursed the universe for not giving the three of you more time?

when your logan died, the time variance authority decided that the sacred timeline didn't need you anymore so they erased you and sent you to the void. you preferred it that way, you didn't want to live in a timeline in which he was gone but you were also angry because they didn't have to drag little laura to that place with you.

you didn't remember how much time you spent in the void but seeing how laura had grown into a woman, you guessed that it had been a long time since you left your timeline.

when you got to that place, she was just a child. scared, angry, who had just lost the most important person in her life. and you were just the same, except that you were not a child and you had to take care of both of you. no matter how much you wanted to die, you had to stay alive for laura. but also for logan, for the way you both cried and held his bloody hands while he died and for not letting her be what they made her for.

and no matter how strong your mutations were, you didn't know how long you would have lasted there if it hadn't been for elektra, johnny, blade, and gambit. they found you when you were escaping from alioth and let you into their hideout. they explained to you how things worked there and eventually, they allowed you to stay with them.

until one day you walked into that same hiding place, and there he was, drinking gambit's alcohol and wearing a yellow spandex suit. you felt your heart beating so hard that it seemed to be fighting to get out and reach him. you brought a hand to your chest to feel it. it had gone so long without beating that way that sometimes you thought you left it buried with him in your timeline.

logan also felt his heartbeat accelerate but he quickly took his eyes off of you and drank a long sip from the bottle. he wasn't alone, a deadpool was with him, you recognized the suit, they were quite popular in the void. he shook his hands and gave little jumps of excitement. you looked at him confused, did you know each other?

—of course, you are here! there's no you without logan and there's no logan without you! do you know how hard it's been to find a proper wolverine? there are so many fucking timelines without one because you died! —deadpool exclaimed when he saw you. —and this one is not even a proper wolverine! you know they call him the worst logan? and he won't tell me why they call him that, can you believe it?—deadpool acted offended, you didn't know what to say. —wait... —he turned to look at logan. —was there a she in your timeline? i didn't get to meet her, they're usually nicer than you.

logan ignored the question and simply drank from the bottle again as he stormed out of your hideout.

he avoided you as much as he could. he did not look you in the eyes, he did not address you when he spoke. how could he? the last time logan saw you, your lifeless body was piled up next to scott's. shame consumed him even at the thought of just approaching you. his hands trembled, a knot formed in his stomach, his pulse quickened.

you came over to talk to him that same night.

logan was sitting in front of the campfire, alone, with a bottle of liquor in his hand. how many had he drunk? he saw you approaching and tried to convince you that he wanted to be alone but you still sat next to him.

—what was i like?

logan took a long sip of alcohol when you asked. he said nothing, just stared into the fire, so you decided to take the turn. —you were grumpy, i guess that doesn't change in any of your variants, and you wouldn't have worn that yellow spandex suit in a thousand years.

he looked at you with a frown when you said that. the same way your logan would have looked at you. you continued talking. —you were stubborn, never asked for help, and you were tired all the fucking time because you worked your ass off to get us out of the shitty place we were living in.

he stared at you in silence while you talked. the person you were describing definitely sounded like a version of him.

—you always said that i didn't need to wait up for you but i know you liked it when you came home late at night and i was there and i know you hated the way i folded your shirts but you never said anything because you knew i didn't know how to do it any other way.

you felt a lump forming in your throat. you turned your head, hiding your face from logan so he couldn't see how you used your thumb to wipe away the tear rolling down your cheek. —but you were so brave, and caring, and i loved you with all my heart. you always looked after me even when you were fucking dying with each passing day.

by the tone in your voice and how well you remembered every detail, he guessed that your logan was suddenly taken away from you. oh, he knew that feeling so well.

you were about to get up and leave, you didn't want to bother him anymore and you had already overshared enough with him, when all of a sudden, he started talking.

—you were the sweetest. fuck, i never knew why you were with me. i always thought you deserved better, but there was no way to get you off my ass —. he closed his eyes and shook his head. —and i tried, i tried to push you away and get you to find a guy who deserved you, but there was no way. and i didn't really want you to do it because i was so fucking in love with you.

logan drank from the bottle, trying to let the alcohol sliding down his throat drag with it the tears forming in his eyes. —you liked to read in the garden of the mansion on sunny days and when it rained you'd open my bedroom window to listen to the rain and get into my bed while i was sleeping so i could keep you warm.

there was silence as logan took another sip, almost finishing all the alcohol. —and i left you to fucking die.

the worst logan. at that moment you understood why he was called that, you didn't him to explain it. wade said that in all the timelines he had visited, there was no you without logan and there was no logan without you.

however, in his timeline there was logan but there wasn't you.

he was called the worst logan because he was doomed to live in his timeline without you.

you grabbed the bottle from his hands and drank the alcohol left. —yeah, i couldn't save you either.

you kept each other company that night. most of the time in silence, watching the fire consume the wood, other times you commented on the situation, you talked about cassandra nova, the people you had met there in the void, he even asked you about laura. and at the end of the night, you were sitting next to him with your head resting on his shoulder and him watching you sleep peacefully.

the next morning you headed off to fight cassandra nova. you knew that logan would end up joining you, it was in his nature.

you and laura managed to remove the helmet from juggernaut's head and you ran to give it to wade. when cassandra opened the portal using strange's ring you were there, you could've left with wade and logan, but you couldn't leave laura there. cassandra's allies had pulled themselves together and she was struggling to fight back.

before you went to help her and logan jumped into the portal, he wrapped one of his big arms around your waist and pulled you into a kiss. you rested your hands against his chest and closed your eyes, enjoying those few seconds of your lips pressed together.

—oh, fuck. seriously now? i know how important fan service is for marvel but we literally have a chance to get the fuck out of here—. wade complained.

—i'll get you out. you and the kid, i promise i won't leave you here —. he said as he started walking backward towards the portal. you nodded, if there was one thing you were sure of, it was that no wolverine in the multiverse would break a promise.

and just as you were right about all wolverines being grumpy, you were right about that too. agents from the time variance authority went into the void to get you and laura that same day and now you were having dinner with him, laura, wade, and his family.

you couldn't take your eyes off him.

he had the same look in his eyes. that little sparkle in his deep brown eyes. he was happy, smiling as he played with the dog and laura, calm knowing that you were by his side. you looked away from him when he caught you staring.

—what is it?

you shook your head and pressed your lips together, showing him a little smile. —nothing.

—come on, spit it out.

—it's just... i feel i could fall in love with every version of you.

logan nodded slowly, his eyes were now fixed on yours. —i've had the same feeling.

wade, who was distracted with vanessa but not enough to not be paying attention to your conversation, decided to intervene. —oh honey, wait until you meet the crucified one. you will want to take that back.

you and logan looked at each other confused.

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ethanhoewke · 3 days ago

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Logan Howlett x mutant fem!reader

Summary: When you get unwillingly administered the cure, you find solace in someone you don't think you deserve to see again.

Genre: fluff, hurt and comfort, steamy ♥️

Warnings: protective!logan, violence, blood, death, swearing, logan never liked jean in this, making out, talking out insecurities, fingering

LOGAN HOWLETT MASTERLIST

You didn't have much of a choice when you joined Magneto seeing as your boyfriend was obsessed with him and the movement he stood for. You didn't necessarily agree, having once been a student of Charles', but love is a powerful persuasion tool.

Your boyfriend, Parker, currently has a guard in a headlock, a smirk on his face as he uses his sharp, wolf-like, teeth to rip a chunk out of the man's jaw, a dangerous gleam in his vibrant orange eyes. You're using the electricity from the gates to stun some men who come charging at you, keeping a stern eye on Parker because of how volatile he can become.

You don't want him to fatally hurt anyone.

Suddenly the bud of a plastic gun is slammed into your temple, causing you to stumble sideways and onto the sharp rubble. The skin on your arms is scratched as you cry out in pain, rolling onto your stomach as dirt sticks to your skin.

Parker's head snaps around just as one of the guards shoots the cure into your neck, the serum acting instantly as the light blue highlights in your hair quickly vanish and you let out a deep exhale.

Parker snarls and yanks the man away from you, crouching beside you as he looks you over. You sit up, blood dripping from your head and arms. Your body feels numb and so weirdly still as you can no longer feel any electricity coursing inside you anymore. You look up at your boyfriend, tears brimming.

You wish you could say you don't recognize the angry look in your eyes, but you do and he snarls as his eyes narrow. You feel a sense of dread wash over you. "You're not one of us anymore," he spits, standing up and unsheathing his claws. You shake your head, trying to scramble away from him as your heart sinks.

"Parker? Please," you whimper, "It's still me."

Parker leans down and clutches your hair, pulling you up as he growls when he doesn't see the highlights anymore. You scream out, clutching at his wrist as your toes barely touch the gravel.

"I don't want to be dating one of them," he tells you harshly, his hand coming up to your throat as his smirks widen. "You're useless now. Weak. Pathetic."

His palm rests on your stomach, claws not yet touching your skin as he looks into your eyes. "I'm doing you a favor," he tells you and presses a harsh kiss on your forehead. "Be fucking happy I am showing you some mercy."

You squeeze your eyes shut, unable to defend yourself as you wait for the slash of his claws when Parker suddenly grunts. You open your eyes to blood dripping from his mouth. His hold on your loosens as he's thrown across the ground and you fall to your knees, cheeks smeared with tears as you look up.

Logan.

He's panting, his claws unsheathed as they drip with Parker's blood. He looks down at you, his eyes sharp. "Hello again, Princess," he grumbles and leans down, looking at you intensely. His claws disappear and he strokes his thumb over the mark where the cure had been given and he shakes his head. He scoops you up in his arms and he feels all too familiar.

Your head feels heavy as Logan carries you. You lean against him. You haven't seen him in a year and his scent feels so unfamiliar. You don't like that.

"You have a type, don't you?" he comments, but he doesn't sound amused. Your heart sinks as your hands weakly tighten around his arm. You had chosen Parker over him a year ago, the memory hitting you so hard you feel sick.

"Y/n, stay," Logan breathed, watching you pack your suitcase on your bed. "Please," he was pleading, the feeling of the kiss you two had shared the night before lingering.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, ignoring him and the tears that fell down your cheek when you heard Parker shoo Logan away from your door, doing nothing to stop him.

"I- I- I was hit," you whisper, unable to keep your eyes open.

"'Can see that." Logan huffs, his touch rough as he adjusts his grip on you and runs past Storm. "I'm taking her onto the plane," he says without any room for protest. Storm looks confused but her eyes widen when she sees a glimpse of you.

Logan sets you on the seat, his hand coming up to your hair where he touches the strand where your hair used to be white and he frowns. Your eyelids flutter from the exhaustion and all you want to do is sleep and hope you wake up from this nightmare.

Instead, you wake up to Logan's scent as your head nuzzles into the pillow of his bed. You groan, sitting up. You have a splitting headache and you wince. You're still wearing your clothes from last night.

Last Night.

No.

You stand on wobbly legs, rushing through familiar halls as you stumble past students and into the bathroom. You slam the door behind you. Tears glisten your eyes when you see your appearance in the mirror and you let out a curling scream.

Logan, even in the kitchen, hears you and his blood runs cold. He sprints into action, running into the bathroom just in time to catch you from falling. "Woah there, sugar," he huffs, his arms wrapping around your waist as you both crumble to the floor of the bathroom. "Shhh," he says as he presses his palm over your forehead as you continue to scream, your screams gradually turning into sobs.

"Hey, shh, baby, shhh," he whispers roughly into your ear, his facial hair scratching your cheek. He's holding you tighter now and you just sob loudly. Your throat eventually begins to hurt so you turn your head and bury your face in Logan's shirt.

Logan manages to convince you to walk back into his room and he sits you on his bed again. He kneels in front of you, his eyes roaming over your form as he brings his calloused hand up to wipe the tears from your cheek.

You sniff, staring at him. "You must hate me."

Logan looks down, concealing a smirk. "What makes you think that, sugar?"

You tilt your head, your hands trembling as your fingers find the tips of hair and you have to remember you can't touch him like that anymore. You pull away, chest heavy. "I left. I left and I worked for him. I hurt—I hurt people and—"

Logan chuckles deeply, interrupting you, "I find that hard to believe."

You stare at him, your expression serious. "I did. I- I wasn't a good person."

Logan's hand continues to caress your cheek. "Good people do bad things, Y/n. That doesn't make you any less of a good person."

"Not the things I did," you whisper as a tear slides down your cheek and your lip wobbles. "And I paid for it, didn't I?"

Logan shakes his head and grips your chin harder, forcing you to look into his eyes. "Don't say that. You didn't deserve to have your mutation stripped from you. You didn't deserve to have that dickhead try and kill you for something that was out of your control. You didn't deserve any of it, no matter what you've done. You- you should have stayed—"

The last sentence slips from his lips without thinking and his mouth closes. You're looking at him with those wide eyes he loves so much.

"You should have stayed," he whispers, this time with intention. "With me. You should have stayed with me."

Tears fill your eyes and you look away. "Logan," you warn him.

His hands grip your cheeks now. "No. Y/n. Listen to me. I love you. I have always loved you—you fucking know this. This year has been torture without you."

Your cheeks become wet with your tears. "I'm not the same anymore. I'm ruined. I- I don't even have my powers. I'm nobody."

Logan shakes his head, resisting the urge to press his lips against yours and soothe any insecurities you may have. He wants you to know he loves you no matter what. No matter who or what you've done. You're still the same girl to him.

You're the same girl who would walk around the gardens just for the mere chance a butterfly would land on you. You're the same girl who would check on him after a nightmare, no matter how many times he'd warned you he was dangerous. You're still that girl.

He knows you are.

You blink up at Logan, your eyes fluttering. You want to kiss him, but you don't feel worthy enough. You feel like a fraud in your own body, an imposter who took over. And worse than that, you'd left him. You'd chosen Parker over him.

How could he want you now?

"If you're thinking of that dick—please, don't. He's fucking dead," Logan says with a growl, his eyes dark. You knew Parker had died—Logan had killed him protecting you—but to hear him sound so proud, it's thrilling and terrifying all the same.

Logan picks up on your shift and his eyebrows scrunch. "I fucking killed him. Does that make me a bad person? Do you think less of me?" The atmosphere in the room has grown dark and Logan's hands shift from your cheeks, down to your sides and hips. You gasp, leaning into his touch. You shake your head. "No? You don't think I'm evil and morally corrupt?"

You shake your head timidly. "You protected me. Y-you did what you could—"

Logan's hands tighten around your hips. "And so did you. That bastard had his claws in you, sugar. You were so blinded by love but it wasn't love," his voice becomes hoarse as he wets his lips, "and I should have snapped ya out of it. Should have kissed you harder—should have fucked you. Should have made you mine."

You gasp, your eyes round. Your body shivers from his words and you yearn to kiss him. You still don't feel like you deserve the kiss but his lips are on yours, crushing you into him. He's desperate and dominant and you feel ill to your stomach. Your hand finds his face, hands skimming his facial hair, and you pull him in. Logan growls as he stands and he spins around, sitting on the bed, his legs spread, as he pulls you flush against him.

You're straddling him now, kissing him back. He kisses so much better than Parker. He kisses you with intention and care. You moan against his lips, feeling his hands slide up your thighs.

"Logan," you whisper as his hand tangles in your hair. He kisses open mouth kisses on your neck, humming in pleasure.

His hand finds your panties under your skirt and he grins. He slides his thumb over your waistband and then dips his hand in, collecting your arousal on his fingers. "Shit," he groans and kisses you again. "Such a naughty girl."

"M-more," you whine, arching into his hand. You gasp when one of his fingers dips into your folds and you realize how sensitive you are for his touch. How much you need him.

"Good girl," Logan whispers and then his voice is steady. "You're not ruined," he says as his voice sends a shiver down your spine, goosebumps erupting on your skin. "You're not. You didn't need that damn streak in your hair or your mutation to prove your worth. That's never why I loved you."

Your eyes shut as he adds a finger, smirking at the squeal you make.

"Loved?" you ask, your voice trembling.

"Love," Logan confirms again, "I said I love you. And I'll fuck you like I love you, that's a promise, sweet girl," he says as his lips attach themselves to yours again, claiming you like he should have done years ago.

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ethanhoewke · 3 days ago

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Hi Miranda!! Thank you for feeding us so well, I always get so excited when I see that you’ve posted ❤️!!

Your pornstar!Logan fics are just so delicious, and I was wondering if you could do something for oldman!pornstar!Logan 🫣

- 🍒

Cherry anon! This is literally gold🙌

Car Wash (Logan Howlett) nsfw

A/N: old!logan, pornstar!logan x pornstar!reader, 18+ f!reader, unprotected sex, outdoor sex, sex on camera, shower sex, cum play

While Logan was sitting in the driver’s seat, watching you as you lathered his car, and yourself, in the soapy white suds, you were lewdly posing for the camera recording every movement behind you. As you worked the sponge in large circles over the hood of the car, your ass would jut in time with the motion. Your body was on full display thanks to the flimsy black bikini that clung to you, now wet from the soapy water.

When you moved towards the back of the car, squatting down to wash the back tire, Logan and the camera watched your reflection in the side mirror. His eyes fell over your ass and thighs, watching every bit of you jiggle as you scrubbed while bearing your weight on your black wedges. “Okay, Mr. Logan, I’m going to hose her down.” You say, dropping the sponge into the bucket before you saunter to his open window and fold your arms over the door so you can look at his face while you bite your lip. “Want to hose me down first?”

The director wants to get a few shots of you getting washed off with the hose. Logan’s got the privilege of assisting you with that. There are a lot of innuendos that can be done with a hose and you play into them well as you start off with holding the hose like you would a cock and let the water languidly run over your breasts. Your manicured hands squeeze your soft mounds through your slick bikini top and you bite your lip flirtatiously for the camera as they move in to film you.

Then they want you sitting on the hood of the car, ankles crossed while Logan rinses the soap off your legs and your feet. His wrinkled eyes find yours and you smile kindly at him before he kisses your shin and your knee, he drops the hose as his lips find their way to your navel and between your breasts. Your hands tangle in his greying hair as you bring him to your lips and the two of you make out with the camera watching. Logan leans into you, nearly forcing you to lay down on the hood and you moan softly against his lips as his rough hands graze your bare, soft thighs warmed by the sun.

“Mm, touch me more.” You beg with a whisper and Logan moves his hand onto your waist, squeezing you as if you were a delicate doll. Your teeth nip at his bottom lip and he groans against your kiss as he squeezes you harder. “That’s it.” You praise, fingers tugging on his thick hair and wrapping your wet legs around his waist. “Fuck,” You breathe out as his lips move onto your neck and he’s biting gently, careful not to leave a mark. “You’re making me wet, Mr. Logan.” You say into his ear so the camera can pick it up and you gently bite the shell of his ear. Logan pulls your body flush against his own and he can feel the water off your body seeping into his t-shirt.

“Let me see these pretty tits, baby.” Logan sighs against your breasts before pushing the cups to the side and exposing you for the camera. Logan takes a step back and rubs on your breasts as the camera comes in for a better view and he licks his lips at the sight of you pushing yourself into his palms. “Think it’s time I pay you for a job well done.” He recites his line which will transition the film into the next scene.

This was the part he was waiting for the moment you came out of the house in that bikini; pounding into your wet pussy against the soapy car. Logan’s hands slipped around your hips and ass as you were covered in suds, white suds that alluded to cum which the camera picked up on as it was pointed to your ass. Each thrust from Logan’s hips made your skin ripple and the suds would fly off in different directions. Your moans and whines were melodic, harmonizing with his own low grunts and the rhythmic slapping of his skin against yours. “Fuck! Mr. Logan, that feels so good!” You cried out, letting him press you to car windows so the camera inside the car could capture the view of your exposed breasts pressed up to the soapy, transparent glass. “Mm, I’m gonna cum!”

“You’ve earned it, doll, go ahead.” Logan groans out his line, completely transfixed on your body as he pumps his thick, swollen cock into your tight pussy. “Fuck, you did such a good job.”

“Ah! Mm!” You cried in a strained voice and he could feel your walls tighten around him, creating resistance against his thrusts and he had to press himself to your body and in turn press you harder into the car as he forced himself further into your pussy. “Yes, yes, yes!” You whine, letting your head fall back against his shirtless chest and one of his hands smooths over your front to hold onto your neck. Your body trembles in his arms as you reach your climax and you grin in pure bliss as he continues fucking you through your orgasm. “Oh, yes, baby!”

“You’re all dirty, sweetheart,” Logan grunts, thrusting harder and faster while harshly grabbing a handful of your ass to keep you in position as he chases his own release. “We gotta clean you up.” He says against your jaw, setting the tone for the next scene and he quickly slips out of you before he can finish.

They want to save his load for the grand finale. You and Logan have moved into the staging house, and you’re teasingly removing your bikini and wedges in the bathroom while Logan stands underneath the running shower head, stroking his hard cock while he watches you play with the camera.

Once you’re completely naked, he offers you his hand and brings you into the shower with him, sliding the door closed behind you to let them steam of the shower fog it up. As instructed, Logan pushes you against the glass door so your tits are pressed to the glass, his lips kiss your shoulder and neck gently while he lets the camera get a view of your naked body marking the fogged up door. Then he slowly turns you around so your ass does the same while he kisses you and runs his hands over your wet body. “Mm,” You moan expertly against his mouth and he has to remind himself it is all just for show. “Oh, baby.” You sigh as he carefully lines his cock up to your soaked mound, pushing slowly through your lips so he can tease your clit. “Yes, right there!” You gasp, clutching tightly onto his meaty shoulders as he lifts you up and sets you on the ledge in the shower.

“So fucking tight.” Logan groans as he begins pumping into you, grunting as the sounds of your wet pussy sucking him in make his body shudder.

Your arms wrap tightly around his neck as you bring him down to your lips, whining against his mouth as he fucks himself into you by keeping you in place. His hands are holding onto your hips with a vice grip as you nibble on his lip and incoherently babble about how good he’s making you feel. “Mr. Logan, ‘s so fuck-ing g-good!” You cry, your brows arched in distress as the tightness in your lower belly forms once again.

“You’re not supposed to like this, baby,” Logan chuckles darkly, kissing your neck amorously and lapping at your wet skin with his tongue while you shake violently from the overstimulation. “You gonna cum for this old man again?”

“Yes! Please, make me cum!” You beg, your fingernails drag down his back and he growls as the both of you are suddenly hit with the intense waves of your orgasms. Logan falls forward into you, holding you close to his toned body while you whimper and roll your hips against him to extend your releases. “Fuck, yes!”

“Shit.” Logan grunts as he milks himself in your pussy, breathing heavily as he easily reaches for the shower knobs to turn shut the water off and let the camera get a close up of his cum dripping out of your cunt. “Almost forgot you guys were here.” Logan says, making you and the crew laugh lightly.

Quietly, Logan watches as you’re biting your lip with your wet hair clinging to your trembling body while you make a show of spreading your pussy out and playing with his cum. Your eyes meet his as you collect a dribble of his spend on your fingers and then suck them clean. His cock twitches and he shakes his head at you, chuckling softly as you grin innocently at him.

Man, does he love his job.

Thanks, Cherry anon, now I’m going to be day dreaming about old man pornstar!logan for the rest of my life😩

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