☀️Sons, Sons, and More Sons
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Genre: Fluff/SMAU
Summary: Ollie, Leo, Liam, who's next Oscar? Oh.
inspired by @pucksandpower 😊
TAG LIST IS CLOSED
“CHARLES!”
The said Monegasque, who had been “innocently” snuggling his four-legged son, winced at the force and volume of your voice.
He was currently going through everything that might have upset you in the past 20 minutes from when he got home to you just now getting out of the shower. Did he leave the toilet seat up again? Or did he forget to sort the laundry? Or maybe he didn’t clean up Leo’s toys from the bedroom?
“Why is my Twitter blowing up?”
Oh. That’s why.
He whispered to Leo, “I’m in for it now.”
And then in a louder voice he yelled, “Yes mon amour?”
You rounded the corner of the hallway and stopped in the opening to the living room, crossing your arms. “Care to tell me why I’m getting tagged in almost every Twitter post about you adopting Oscar?”
You wanted to break at the puppy eyes that your boyfriend was currently giving you, but you needed to stay strong. You needed to show that a man could not sway your feelings. Too bad that man was Charles Leclerc, the one that men and women alike fell to worship the ground beneath his feet.
You couldn’t break.
Charles brought his hand up to ruffle his hair, something he did to express some nervousness.
“Cheri, it was just a joke. Oscar somehow finds heritage in a lot of countries. He just wanted to keep the joke going.”
“So you decided to ‘adopt’ him so he can have another home race?”
“Maybe?”
“Don’t you already have enough sons anyway? I think four is too many or our house is going to overflow on family night.”
Charles’s eyebrows pinched in confusion. “Four?”
Now it was your turn to smirk. “Yes, four. Or are you too busy having fun with Leo to be a present father to your other two?”
Charles tried to wrack his brain about who could be the other two.
“Ollie?”
“Bingo.”
He leaned back into the couch, hands still gently petting Leo who had decided to fall asleep in the middle of his parent’s squabbles. The golden puppy was content on his dad’s warm chest, the rise and fall rocking him to sleep.
The Ferrari driver sighed. “I don’t even know.”
You waved your phone at him. “Twitter might be able to help you. I need to get dressed since I was rudely interrupted. I hope you find out before they get here for dinner.”
Charles shot up making Leo yelp away from his nap. Now that he was really looking at you, he realized that you were just in a towel. A blush formed on his face, still having those boyish thoughts that he believed he was better than that.
You walked over and bent down, face getting closer to his.
Ah. You were going to forgive him and all would be right in the world once your lips met his. You wanted to laugh as you saw his eyes flutter shut, lips slightly puckering.
Charles was wondering what was taking you so long when your finger touched his lips. His eyes shot open and he definitely did not whimper. You looked down at your fur-baby and gently picked him up, bringing Leo to your chest.
“Twitter. Figure it out Leclerc.”
Now a bit sullen, he watched you walk away.
“Je t’aime!”
He was responded to with a middle finger and the bedroom door slamming. A chuckle made its way from his chest as he brought his phone out. If there was one thing that you two did well, it was dramatics.
Twitter was immediately opened once he got his phone out. He scrolled through all the tags before giving up and opening your profile. He winced at the sight of the white background, cursing his phone for updating and not keeping the dark profile.
However, he couldn’t contain his laugh as he saw your new updated tweet. He leaned his head back, still giggling to himself.
Charles knew that you two wanted kids at some point. But between his Formula 1 career and your business on the uprise, children really wouldn’t work well now. But deep down, he liked the idea of having a few grid kids.
He took a minute to stop giggling before he continued his search. His eyes widened as he stopped on one of the family trees that some fan made.
There was Leo, adopted by you and him.
Then Ollie, who fans say that Charles conceived himself somehow.
Oscar was newer, but still had the adopted dotted line.
And then . . .
Ooohhhhhhh, so that’s who he was missing.
You took that moment to come out of the bedroom, hair now dry and fluffy from your Dyson. Leo was still in your arms, looking more awake than he had when he was with Charles. You sat down next to him, Charles taking the opportunity to put an arm around you, bringing you in closer.
“You smell good amour.”
You turned and smiled, leaning in to finally give him a kiss after a long day.
“Thank you. It’s the lotion that you bought me.”
He let out a low hum and just kept you in his arms. Leo was squirming a bit before he finally flopped over and settled in between your two bodies.
“I figured out who our other son is.”
Your head now rested in the crook of his neck. “Did you now.”
“Yes. I am a stepfather to Liam?”
Your shoulders shook with giggles. “Not the stepfather, but the father who stepped up.”
“You spend way too much on Twitter.”
You looked up at him, and Charles turned to look down at you. You leaned in closer to rub your noses together, giving him eskimo kisses. The Ferrari driver just closed his eyes and basked in the moment between you.
There weren’t many times that he got something like this. So quiet and peaceful. His world was filled with so much noise. But here, he could melt into the quiet.
“We should have dinner here with the boys after the Grand Prix on Sunday.”
“That sounds nice. I can make the food.”
You sat up slightly, elbow bent on the back of the couch and head resting on your hand.
“You want to show off your cooking skills to your sons to prove that you can cook.”
Charles huffed. “I am the provider chéri.”
You cocked your head at the Monegasque. “Whose name is on the lease mon bebe?”
A huff was the answer, which made you cuddle Charles closer still being aware of the little baby between you. A small nip to your fingertip made you pick Leo up, now holding him close to your face.
“Were you getting a bit jealous of papa ma petit amour?” you asked the blonde dachshund in a baby voice. If Charles wasn’t already fully in love with you, his love would have been solidified in this moment.
While watching, he suddenly remembered something. “Oscar wanted to meet Leo in McLaren hospitality this weekend.”
You turned with a raised eyebrow. “Why not Ferrari?”
“Eh.”
It was as if you had a lightbulb moment. “Ohhhhhhh, right. That makes sense. I can stop by and let you know when I get there.”
What you hadn’t expected was to pick up Liam and Ollie on your way to the now green outside of the McLaren hospitality. Leo was still curled up in your arms, eyes blinking every so often. You knew that if it wasn’t so busy, the little puppy would be sound asleep.
“He’s so cute,” Oscar said, walking forward and hands outstretched. You gently gave him over to the “older brother” of the three.
Ollie laughed. “I know right. He’s so cuddly.”
Liam joined in, “I don’t think I put him down the entire time I got to meet him.”
Oscar stared at you three for a moment. “Yeah, you aren’t getting him back.”
You shook your head. “Speak to your father first, Oscar.”
Chuckles erupted from all around, making you laugh as well. You took your phone out and took a quick picture of Oscar holding Leo to post later.
“Is dad on his way?” Ollie asked after sipping on his water bottle.
You rolled your eyes. “Should be. Ah, there he is.”
Charles stepped foot into the room and immediately found you surrounded by his “kids.” His heart may have melted seeing Leo flopped in Oscar’s arms. He gave you a kiss on your cheeks before he greeted the three.
“This is hilarious,” he said, making everyone laugh yet again.
You rested a hand on your forehead. “We’re just missing Liam’s dad, and then we’ll be one big happy family.”
The Kiwi crossed his arms, but a giant smile was on his face. “So much for having a present father in my life. I’m jealous.”
Charles gripped your waist and puffed his chest. “I’m not the stepfather, but the father that stepped up.”
“Charles, no you aren’t. Can’t even handle three kids.”
You and Charles turned around to see Max now stepping through the door. The Monegasque raised his eyebrow.
“And you can?”
You raised a hand. “That’s my que to leave. I will not be in the middle of a Lestappen-father showdown. Boys, you can follow me.”
“Yes mum.”
“Lead the way.”
“Can I still keep Leo?”
Charles and Max gawked as the three older boys followed you like ducks in a row. After he got over the shock, the Ferrari driver was left with a love-sick smile on his face.
“Yeah. I’m marrying her.”
“Gross.”
“Max. Shut up.”
y/n_l/n has posted
liked by y/nismother, charles_leclerc, liamlawson, and 1,304,295 others
y/n_l/n look at my sons . . . pride is not the word I'm looking for
see all comments
y/nismother the mother is mothering
charliexy/n honestly, they all take after him so much. I need to go to twitter
olliebearman then what is the word you're looking for mom 🤨
liamlawson30 I knew she wasn't proud of us
oscarpiastri this is why dad is better
y/n_l/n I'm taking away all of your sims and ps5's
olliebearman I take it back, mom is the best
oscarpiastri81 this is the best thing to happen this weekend
charles_leclerc my family 🫶
maxverstappen1 you stole my son from me.
liamlawson30 they had free ice cream 🤷
y/n_l/n 😊
maxverstappen1 I'm taking pole then
charles_leclerc ☹️
lestappenlove I love the entire family your honor
leclerc16charles does Leo need another sibling? cause I can bark
TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis
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Busted
Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> Rogue has a date, and you and Logan decide to follow. You're just making sure she's safe. But sometimes it's in moments like that, that you find out your 'husband' is the love of your life.
Disclaimer: Mostly chaos, fluffiness, fake dating, mentions of being a soldier, the claws come out briefly, a nosy book club and its members. Some swearing, steam and a little angst. I wrote this over two days so apologies if it becomes spotty. This is a long one. Not Proof Read.
Rogue had a date.
Both yourself, Logan and…practically most of the teachers in the school knew about Rogue having a date.
Yet, despite knowing all of this. And somewhat knowing the guy’s intentions…Logan had decided to follow them.
And you had found yourself tagging along.
“And what did you think you were gonna do when they figured out you were following them?” You asked him. “At least this way it just looks like we decided to pick up dinner in town.”
“At the same restaurant?”
“You ask that as if this wasn’t your idea.”
“Oh please,” Logan practically rolled his eyes at you. “I saw what you were actually looking at early. You were caseing the place.”
“I was looking at their opening times.” You countered, if a little harshly.
“You were casing the joint and you know it. If I wasn’t coming down here, you would have already come.”
You gave a short, heavy sigh. “Fine. I wanted to make sure this wasn’t some kind of set up. I just want her to be safe and have fun.”
“And I want to make sure the guy isn’t a creep.” Logan finalised before opening up the door for you allowing you to step inside.
“Hello, madam! Ah, good sir! Table for two?” The waiter looked at his list.
Logan looked and felt a little out of place. He was hoping you could both enter quietly, not have an announcement made to the entire restaurant.
“Uh, yea. Yes, please.”
The waiter smiled, picking up two menus. “Please, this way.”
“Logan.”
Logan followed your line of sight to see where Rogue and her date were sitting, smiling and laughing with one another as they looked over the menus.
“Uh, actually, bub?”
The waiter turned around. “Yes, sir?”
“If you don’t mind we’d like to sit…” Logan looked around and found an empty table. “There.”
You saw where he pointed and realised why. Too far back into the restaurant, you’d pass right by the happy couple.
Sitting where Logan was currently looking, gave you direct sight of the happy couple and with a chance, more coverage from the rest of the guests.
“There?” The waiter asked, a little offended. “Oh, no, Sir. Please. We have a lovely booth for a couple such as yourself back here. Romantic candle light, a lot more privacy, no?”
You felt yourself blush at what the waiter was trying to subtly say.
And it seemed that Logan caught on, too. And looked at you, unsure of what to do.
You gave a small laugh and moved closer to Logan, “I’m sure, but you see, the thing is, my…”
You hesitated a little on your next words. “Husband.”
Christ, you felt that lie weigh on your chest.
“He was in the army. Not a big fan of not being able to see the door. Just a habit, I suppose.”
The waiter gave a softer smile. “Ah, no worries.”
Swiftly, he began leading you both towards the table Logan had pointed out. “My sister is serving overseas right now. We are all very proud. Thank you for your service, Sir.”
Logan gave an awkward smile and thanked the waiter before you both sat down with your menus.
“I thought we were busted then,” Logan shifted in his seat.
“So did I,” you replied. “So long as they don’t draw any-”
“So, what will it be?”
Both yourself and Logan jumped at the waiter's sudden reappearance. However, he didn’t seem to notice as he began rattling off the specials. And then the wines. And then came the crash.
Everyone’s heads turned inside the restaurant.
Including Rogue’s.
Quickly, you scooted your chair around so the waiter blocked you from view. By the time he turned back around, muttering about incompetencies about the newer staff members, he excused himself and headed in the direction of the crash.
You saw Rogue settle her back to talking with her date and you breathed again, pulling your chair back to its original position.
The waiter returned.
“So, what will you be having?”
This time he blocked your view from Rogue’s table, giving Logan a clearer view of her date. You could see something flare up in Logan.
“Uh, we’re gonna need another minute.” You said hurriedly, willing the waiter to walk away.
And he did.
For a moment.
“Logan.”
He turned back to you. “What?”
“Have you decided yet?” The waiter was back.
Logan took your menu from you and placed it with his before handing it over to the waiter, who seemed shocked for a moment since it took him just as long to realise what Logan was doing.
“Two cheeseburgers, a side of fries and two sodas. Please.”
The waiter seemed to force his smile a little. “Of course, sir. Anything else?”
“No, thank you.” You replied and the waiter bowed his head before walking away.
For a split second as you looked at Logan, you felt a comfort in your gut. And apparently the look was still clear on your face when he looked back at you.
“What?”
You shook your head, snapping yourself out of it. “Nothing, just…well, the last time a guy ordered my food for me he ordered me a salad, with a side of vinegar and sparkling water.”
Logan raised an eyebrow, slightly confused. “Is that what you wanted?”
“Fuck no.” You answered honestly. You didn’t want it then, and you sure as hell didn’t want it now.
Especially the sparkling water.
Logan looked at you for a moment in a silence you hadn’t known from him before. Then he turned back to watch Rogue’s date.
And there was that look again.
“Logan. You can’t kill him from here.”
“Doesn’t mean I don’t want to.”
You nodded. “I know that. And so does everyone else in this restaurant. At least now I know why Scott doesn’t send you undercover.”
Logan turned back to you.
“You might be the ‘mysterious, silent’ type but if someone took one look at your face, they’d find their answers.”
“Are you saying I’m easy to read?”
Someone came and placed your drinks down on the table. You shrugged.
“To the people who know you, yes.”
“Okay, then. Fine.” Logan turned his full attention onto you. “What am I thinking?”
“That I’m wrong. And that you wished you had the powers of invisibility so you could be closer to the table without being seen and mess with her date whilst he can’t see you.”
Logan remained still for a second before shifting in his seat. “Okay, fine. Maybe I am easy to read.”
You smiled and took a sip of your soda. “See.”
For the next twenty five minutes, things ran smoother than expected. You both enjoyed your meals, yourself and Logan talked a little however spent most of your time watching Rogue and her date enjoy their time.
“What would you do?”
Logan hummed a questioned response.
“If you took someone out on a date? What would you do?”
Logan scrunched up his paper napkin and placed it beside his plate. “Why do you want to know?”
You shrugged, looking away from Rogue’s date. “Curiosity? I’ve had that many crappy dates in my time, maybe you can rescue my last sliver of hope.”
Logan felt a smile on his face for a moment, hearing your plea for hope.
“Oh, come on. They’re talking. If we look at them any longer they might sense someone staring.”
Logan sighed. “Fine.”
“So, what would you do?”
Logan shrugged. “I don’t know. Go for a drink, maybe some food. Honestly, it’s been a while since I’ve dated.”
“Seriously?”
Logan nodded. “Seriously. What about you?”
You thought about it for a moment. “Well, the last date I went on the guy ordered my food for me.”
“Sparkling water guy?” Logan asked.
You nodded. “One in the same. He spent two hours talking about his businesses, and didn't notice I hadn’t touched my food. Or my drink, for that matter. Then at the end, said that if we ever got married, I wouldn’t have to worry about anything other than what I was going to make him for his dinner each night.”
“Fucking asshole. Why did you stay?”
You decided to answer honestly. “Didn’t have anything else to do. And my friends had been on my case about my dating life. They were all either married or getting married or starting a family, and when they said they knew this “really great guy, you’ll just adore him” I decided to give it a shot.”
“What did they do when they found out he was an asshole?”
“Couple apologised, others asked me to give him a second chance. They haven’t tried setting me up with anyone since.”
Logan watched you for a moment as you pulled your soda to your lips. He wanted to punch the Sparkling Water Guy. He didn’t realise how lucky he was to be on a date with someone like you. And, in all honesty, he wasn’t too happy with your friends either.
“You deserve better.”
Your eyes widened and for a moment Logan thought he had fucked up, saying that to you out loud.
“Logan. Logan, quick. Shit.”
Then he noticed where you were looking. Rogue was standing up, as was her date.
“Shit.”
You looked around you, trying to find the best place to hide yourself. Only Logan found a solution.
From under the table, he grabbed the bottom of your chair and pulled you closer towards him.
“Just keep looking at me, hopefully we’ll just blur in with the rest of the crowd.”
And you did. You kept your eyes on Logan.
In his peripheral vision, he saw Rogue slipping her coat on with her date’s help, who just so happened to rake his eyes up and down her body from the back whilst she wasn’t looking.
Then he felt your hand on his.
“Logan,” you whispered to him, getting his attention.
With your hand on his, you were covering the tips of his claws that started peeking out from between his knuckles.
“He’s just helping her put her coat on.”
Logan felt the tips of his claws retract, however three small holes were left in the cloth on the table beside his plate.
“Sorry.”
You just smiled. “It’s okay.”
Then the waiter came back. “Ah, so lovely to see a couple so in love.”
You felt your cheeks go red and hid your face against Logan’s shoulder as he curled his arm around your back and smiled at the waiter. “Can we have the check?”
The waiter nodded. “Of course, just one moment.”
Within seconds, the waiter was back just as Rogue and her date walked out of the door.
“Have a lovely evening!” The waiter called out to both of you as Logan took your hand and headed for the door.
Rogue and her date were already half way down the street.
“Where are they going?”
“Maybe he’s walking her to the cab station?” You offered.
Logan, with his eyes still fixed on the dates, nodded his head in the opposite direction. “Taxis’ that way.”
Looking back at you, you both made a simultaneous decision and were back to following them.
“Where the hell could they be going?”
“Maybe they’re just going for a walk. It is still early and they looked like they were having fun. Some couples like to take a walk together after a date.”
“They’re not a couple yet. And this is their first date.”
You caught up beside Logan and pulled him to a slower pace so neither of you looked like frantic maniacs going down Main Street.
“If we get any closer, they’re gonna see us.”
“You’re right.”
Yourself and Logan tailed them down the street and around the park before deciding to head back home. “If they’re coming round on the top of the street, they’re gonna see your car.”
Logan looked around him before taking hold of your hand and nearly pulling your arm out of its socket. “This way.”
“Logan, slow down.” You told him. “We aren’t all ten feet tall.”
Thankfully, he did slow down, however didn’t let go of your hand.
“Do you think we did the right thing? Following them?”
You nodded. “I was questioning it at first but…at least this way we know the guy actually meant what he said when he asked her out. Oh, shit
“What?”
You just managed to push Logan into the doorway of a closed bookstore, pushing his back against the glass.
“What are you doing?”
“Uhhh,” you panicked. “Nothing. Just a…puddle. Big puddle.”
“It hasn’t rained in three days. What are you-”
Logan stopped when he saw what you had seen. Rogue’s date was about to lean in to kiss her.
You pushed him back, trying your best to keep him pinned to the wall. “Okay, I get we tailed them most of the night but we have to give them some privacy.”
“Did he even ask?”
“I don’t know, but just keep your voice down. The car is three spaces away. Hopefully they’ll be distracted long enough to-”
You peered back round the corner. “Oh, thank god.”
“What? What’s going on? Has hell opened up and sucked him in?”
You looked back at Logan, a little less than amused. “They’re going into the ice cream shop. Come on, before they see us.”
However, just as you both stepped out of the doorway, you found your path blocked by an elderly woman and her dog.
She chuckled to herself. “Don’t mind me kids, just taking Frankie on a walk. And don’t worry, honey. I remember when I first met my Harry. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other.”
You let out a nervous laugh as Logan looked like he was about to burst from embarrassment as he ran a hand through his hair, his shirt coming untucked and showing off a small hint of his torso.
Mrs Keller watched where your eyes landed and gave you a knowing albeit loving smirk as she watched you move closer to Logan, tugging his shirt down a little and pressing close into his side.
“We should get going. It was nice seeing you Mrs Keller.”
Mrs Keller waved you both off towards Logan’s car. “I’ll see you for next week's book club?”
You nodded. “I’ll be there.”
“Feel free to bring your husband along,” she called back. “It’ll drive Little Miss Prissy up the wall that you’ve been keeping that Handsome Fella a secret.”
You laughed nervously once again, as Logan gave you a slight smirk despite his initial embarrassment at what the old lady thought you were both doing.
“Good night, Mrs Keller.” You called out before Logan repeated it.
She waved you both goodbye before continuing down the street with Frankie walking by her side.
Closing the passenger door, you covered your face with your hands already feeling Logan’s eyes and teasing smile on you.
“She was nice.”
“Shut up and drive.”
Logan chuckled, placing his key into the ignition and pulling out of his spot, his hand behind your headrest as he did so when looking over his shoulder.
Barely five minutes into the drive, Logan started asking you questions.
“You’re a part of a book club?”
“We all meet every fortnight and talk about books.”
“And Mrs Keller…?”
You sighed.
“Is one of the founding members. I met her at the library one day when taking some books back. She was at the desk asking if they had the newest Danielle Steel. They didn’t, but I had seen it in the shop window in a bookstore on the other side of town. We walked together and she invited me to join.”
“How was the book?” Logan asked.
“I cried.” You answered honestly. “First book I actually cried at.”
Logan let out a small laugh and you hit his arm whilst trying to hold in one of your own. “Don’t laugh.”
“I-I’m not laughing. Okay, maybe I am. I mean, it is funny. Is this where you’ve been disappearing every other Saturday?”
You nodded. “Pretty much. They’re a fun group. Well, most of them are.”
“Let me guess?” Logan asked. “Little Miss Prissy?”
You groaned. “She lives two doors down from Eva. Eva can be nice, but Prissy? God, she’s a nightmare. Every time it’s her turn to talk, she somehow manages to turn it back to her and her “ever doting husband” and their “precious baby niece and nephew” and “oh, look at how cute he is with them.” You know, we read American Psycho once. She still managed to turn it back to her husband.”
“I wouldn’t mind,” you continued. “If she wanted to know about anyone else’s love life. Like…” you sighed, thinking of an example. “Mrs Keller? Her and Harry have been together since they were seventeen. They met when they were twelve, lived across the street from each other their entire lives. Mrs Keller had been stood up for one of the local dances by Harry’s friend. So, the minute he found out, he ran over to her house, still covered in motor oil and asked her to the dance. Mrs Keller deserves to write her own romance book for everything that her and Harry have done together. But can she get a word in edgewise? Nope.”
“Sounds like a love for the ages.” Logan said with a soft smile on his lips, looking at you before turning his gaze back to the road in front of him. “And by the sounds of it, Mrs Keller is going to give her something else to talk about.”
You covered your face again. “Oh, god.”
“Hey, come on, it can’t be that bad.”
“How do I tell Mrs Keller I’m not married? She’s gonna think that I’m-”
“What if you didn’t?”
You turned and looked at Logan. “What?”
“What if you didn’t? Tell them you’re not married? I mean, it’s not like they’re gonna meet me.” Logan explained. “Just…keep up with the lie.”
“And what do I do when they ask me questions?”
Logan shrugged. “Just…bend the truth.”
“Okay,” you sat up in your seat, deciding to test him. “How did we meet?”
“At work. We’re both teachers.”
“When was our first date?”
Logan thought about it. “Six months after we met. We decided to stay up late and ate leftover Chinese food.”
You furrowed your brows. How the hell did he manage to answer these so quickly? Sure, most of it was true. You were both teachers, and the first night you spent alone in the same room together was eating the leftovers in the fridge. Of course, what wasn’t being said was that you both actually met when Logan nearly bulldozed you when he ran into the Professor’s office just after he’d woken up in Jean’s lab. Or how neither of you had properly spoken to one another until that night six months later.
Or how afterwards, it took a long time for you to make a genuine friendship with him that wasn’t just talking about the team or what the students had to learn in that semester.
“And then what?” You asked him. “We kissed and lived happily ever after?”
Logan shrugged. “Sure, why not?”
You groaned again. “I hate lying to Mrs Keller.”
“You just lied to her like ten minutes ago. We both did.”
Eventually, Logan pulled up outside of the school and left the car back where he had found it.
“Like we never left.”
You smiled. “Come on, before she gets back and figures out what we’ve been doing.”
Walking through the school ground and up the front steps, both you and Logan chatted away, laughing a little here and there about anecdotes you were telling him.
Then you were alone in the middle of the empty hallway, cast in darkness and hints of moonlight.
“We should get to bed before they get back.”
“I think I might stay up and wait for her to get back. Make sure he didn’t do anything he shouldn’t have done.”
You stepped a little closer to him. “Be nice, Logan.”
“I’m always nice.”
You just raised an eyebrow at him.
“Okay, fine.” Logan sighed a laugh. “I’ll be nice.”
“Thank you. Tell me how it goes?”
Logan nodded. “Course.”
However, as you both stood together in the hallway, soaking in the vision of the other, you both heard footsteps.
“Shit.”
Logan looked around. “Here.”
Taking your hand, Logan pulled you into the small space besides the bookshelf and the window.
Being pressed between the wall and him, you felt his scent and body heat swirl around you and mix with your own. Your own heartbeat was drumming so loud in your eardrums you could hardly hear what Rogue was saying when she was talking to her date.
From above you, Logan leaned down, his eyes roaming across your face, whilst you found your own gaze doing the same.
Your heartbeat seemed to drum harder and faster against your chest, your lungs trying to find an even pace to breathe at.
But you weren’t the only one struggling with that.
Because Logan’s breathing had become laboured as he looked at you, wanting the space between you both to be further so he could think clearer and not do something you both could regret, but at the same time, for you to be closer to him so he could cross that line.
You swallowed thickly, trying your best to keep your gaze from his lips.
You were failing.
“Logan…”
“Y/n…”
The hand you had pressed against his chest slid up his chest before you took a wad of the loose fabric by his collar in your hands, holding him closer, begging for that line to be crossed. Just as you did so, his own hand pushed the hair from beside your face, his hand gripping onto the space between your neck and your shoulder. Maybe if he forced himself, he wouldn’t move his hand and he wouldn’t cross that line.
“Alright, where are you two?”
You and Logan stilled. “Maybe if we’re quiet…”
Rogue started walking around. “You wouldn’t have gone to bed yet. Where are you? Oh, come on. I saw you both in the restaurant.”
You and Logan sighed and he closed his eyes, leaning a little further into you. You didn’t want him to leave.
“Busted.”
Slowly, you and Logan came out from your hiding spot and Rogue spun around her heels. “There you both are.”
“Look, before you yell, you need to know something.”
Rogue crossed her arms, waiting.
“It was Y/n’s idea.”
“Logan.”
But rather than yell, Rogue laughed a little. “Why does something tell me that’s a lie?”
Logan shrugged. “It might be part of a lie.”
You gave a sigh. He was hopeless.
“We just wanted to make sure you were safe. And, if you want to know, we’ve already learnt our lesson.”
“Really?”
Logan nodded in agreement with you. “Just take our word for it.”
“So, how did your date go?”
Rogue smiled. “If you must know, we’re going out again next Saturday. He’s going to take me to the movies and then we’re gonna go bowling.”
“That sounds like fun.”
“It will be,” Rogue said. “So long as you two promise to not follow us this time?”
You crossed a sign over your heart. “I swear.”
Rogue waited for Logan to do the same, and only when you nudged him did he do so. “But I’m dropping you off.”
“Just agree,” you told Rogue. “It’ll be easier on all of us.”
Rogue agreed. “Fine. You can drop me off.”
Not long after that, both yourself and Logan went to bed whilst Rogue walked towards the kitchen to grab a bottle of water before doing the same.
“Are we being overprotective?”
“She’s just a kid, Y/n. We’re allowed to be.”
Logan walked you to your door, both of you calling goodnight to each other. However, you didn’t fall asleep.
At least for the first couple of hours.
Mrs Keller thought you were married.
Married to the same man you were friends with.
The same friend you had almost kissed.
The same friend who had almost kissed you.
By the time you woke up the next morning, you seemed to be the only one awake. It was no surprise though, considering you were still three hours off the clock having a one at the beginning of it.
“Morning.”
You jumped a little when you heard a voice before you opened your eyes to confirm it was Rogue’s voice who had spoken to you.
“What are you doing up? It’s 7 am. And a Sunday.”
Rogue gave a smile. “Could ask you the same thing.” Rogue told you. “Figured you’d be wrapped in Logan’s arms right now.”
Your back was to her as you opened up one of the doors to the fridge, however became completely still and forgot why you’d opened the damn thing in the first place.
“What?”
Turning around, you saw Rogue and her smirk, sip at her coffee.
“I saw you and Logan last night.”
Beside the bookcase?
“At the restaurant?” Rogue was confused by the more than panicked look on your face. She had said she saw you both, when she got home last night, didn’t she. “You and Logan were sat at the table by the window?”
“Oh…” You felt your heart leave the vice you’d just locked it in. “Oh, yeah.”
Rogue smiled again. “Looked pretty cosy if you ask me.”
“Good job no one’s asking you.”
Milk. That’s why you opened the fridge.
Taking the carton out, you closed it behind you and reached for a bowl and some cereal.
“All snuggled up together, his arm around you. I was pretty sure he would have kissed you if the waiter didn’t interrupt. Though, if he didn’t, maybe you would have done more than kiss at that table.”
“Rogue!”
She laughed. “What? Oh, come on. I’ve seen the way you look at each other. Seen the way he looks at you.”
She mumbled that last sentence into her coffee cup leaving you questioned just exactly what she meant by it.
“It’s too early in the morning for this,” you grumbled to yourself, replacing the cereal box in the cabinet.
“You could always go back to bed.” Rogue offered. “Or go and see if Logan wants some company.”
You turned around a slightly shocked, slightly disgusted look on your face. “Oh my god.”
“I’m kidding.” Rogue laughed out. “Kinda.”
“When did you grow up?” You asked out loud, coming to the daily realisation that Rogue wasn’t the little kid you had first met when she arrived at the school but was, in fact, very quickly on her way to becoming a full grown woman. After all, she had started taking on a small time tutoring job and she was still a couple months away from graduation.
The rest of the day went smoothly. Well…as smooth as it could go when you were having a constant internal flashback to the night before. Mrs Keller and what she thought you and Logan were doing, it almost happening beside the bookcase, and then you walked in on him in his bathroom.
He had said it was safe for you to come inside, and you had happened to see him shirtless a couple of times. Though never in sync with a time when at least two people on the planet thought you were married, another one was trying to convince you she saw, at the very least, something similar to what the others had and the two minutes spent beside the bookcase which you had thought about over and over.
“Hank is asking if you want corn or peas.” You told Logan as you walked inside, trying your best not to yell or scream out loud and retreat away.
“Either is fine. You okay?”
You snapped your eyes back to Logan’s face. “Hm? Oh, yeah. Fine. Have you talked to Rogue?”
“Not today,” he replied. “Why? Should I have done?”
You couldn’t help but shudder. “No. That kid is scary.”
You heard Logan laugh as you closed the door a little as you headed back out.
“Hey, wait.”
You opened the door again, holding onto the frame for dear life. “Yeah?”
“About last night…”
“What about last night?” You tried your best to remain as casual as possible, though it didn’t help when you remembered Logan was practically a walking lie detector.
He could hear your heartbeat.
And it was only getting faster.
You told yourself to calm down.
It was only a question.
A big question.
That he hadn’t finished.
Was he going to tell you to forget about it? Was he going to pretend it didn’t happen? Did it happen? Had you made the entire thing up? Was the line that you thought had blurred for a second been completely in bold this entire time and hadn’t shifted?
“Thanks…for coming with me…I know you would have gone anyway. But, I’m glad you didn’t try to stop me.”
You smirked a little. “Logan, you’re made of metal. The only practical way I could have is if I owned an industrial magnet.”
Logan chuckled a little. “Still. I’m glad you came. It’s nice to know the kid’s not alone, you know?”
You nodded. “I know. Anyway, I should probably…”
“Yeah, yeah. I, uh, I’ll meet you down there.”
You nodded, letting your eyes take a mental picture of Logan before you shut the door again and headed downstairs and back into the kitchen.
“He said either.”
Hank nodded and turned back to the stove.
“You were up there for a while,” Rogue appeared by your side. “And you look a little flushed.”
You turned your head to look at her and glared. “I do not.”
“You do look a little red in the cheeks, Y/n.” Hank added from where he was standing, busying himself by the stove.
“Maybe I’m coming down with something.” You pressed your hands to your cheeks to hide them.
Rogue stood in front of you and pressed the back of her hand to your head. “You don’t feel hot, maybe- Oh, hey Logan!”
Rogue broke out into a wide grin.
Logan was a little shocked by Rogue’s enthusiasm. “Hey, kid.”
“Come here, does Y/n feel hot to you? She’s looking a little flushed.”
“Rogue.” You warned under your breath. But she just smiled and pulled Logan over where her hand was replaced by Logan’s.
And there it was again.
That same…difference.
Just like when you stood in front of him when you both got back, before you hid beside the bookcase.
“N-no. She feels…she feels okay.”
Rogue looked back at Hank who was trying his best to hide his smile. “Why, Logan, you’re looking a little flushed yourself.”
Logan quickly stepped back, as did you. Only, you fell into the counter and gripped onto it for dear life.
You looked down at the floor.
“Maybe you’re coming down with something, too. I hope it’s not catching.”
Logan shook his head. “I can’t get sick.”
Hank hummed. “Must be something else then.”
“Must be.” Logan’s voice was quiet as he looked at you and found you looking back.
Though you couldn’t look for too long, feeling your cheeks heat up again.
“I better-”
“Yeah, I’m gonna-”
Both yourself and Logan headed in opposite directions. Yourself out of the kitchen the way you came in, and Logan out through the back door and into the gardens.
Eventually, you made it to your room and locked your door before moving over to the mirror. You did look flushed. Even more so when your brain projected the feeling of Logan’s hands on you from the night before, as well as the look on his face from thirty seconds ago.
By the time dinner rolled around, yourself and Logan tried to keep your distance until you both suddenly found yourself seated beside each other, taking one look at each other and then taking a large gulp of your drink.
Your main suspect for the forced seating arrangement was Rogue. She had been the one to lay out the cards. Three days previous, you were sure you had been sat beside her and Storm.
And when you looked over to her and found her smiling in your direction, you had your confirmed culprit.
For most of the night, you were kept distracted by the stories being told by everyone as you all caught up with one another from the past couple of months or so.
It was a few days until things felt normal between you and Logan. At least to the extent where you didn’t feel yourself visibly flush at the sight of him.
And everything seemed normal.
Until Saturday.
You had already left - Logan being the only one to know where you actually were heading off to.
“Okay, but Logan, you’re not allowed to get out of the car.” Rogue told him. “You’re just dropping me off. And you’re not allowed to come into the movie theatre, either.”
“What if I want to see a movie?”
“Not tonight, you’re not.” Rogue told him. “I like this guy, okay. And I think having The Wolverine sat behind us both isn’t going to make things easier.”
Logan sighed. “Okay, fine. I won’t come into the movie theatre.”
“Promise?”
Logan nodded, and crossed his heart. “Promise.”
“And you can’t send Y/n in, either.”
“Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. She’s busy.”
“Let me guess, on a date at the movie theatre?”
Logan held back his smirk. “No, smartass. She’s at a book club. But you can’t tell the others. She doesn’t want them to know.”
“Y/n’s part of a book club?”
Logan nodded and stifled a laugh as he flicked on his indicator and turned down a side street. “Yeah, it shocked me too.”
“You wouldn’t happen to be the mysterious husband they’re all talking about?”
As a red light came on, Logan slammed on his breaks a little too hard. “What? How would you know about-”
“Y/n took me to the library. There were a load of women looking at her. She was outside but when I asked her about it she said it was nothing. But I definitely heard them talking about her being married.”
Logan looked back to the road.
“Logan?”
“Yeah.”
“It's green.”
A car behind him honked and Logan quickly got moving, all the while feeling Rogue’s eyes on him.
“Oh, my god.” Rogue smiled and turned back to the road in disbelief.
“What?”
Logan was beginning to feel a little panicked. Though he didn’t quite know why.
“You are him.” Rogue stated. “Oh, my god. Is this what you meant by ‘learning your lesson’? Did something finally happen?”
Logan was confused. “Finally? What do you mean finally?”
“I mean finally.” Rogue repeated. “Jesus, Logan. Have you not seen the way you look at her? How she looks at you?”
“How she looks at me?” Logan questioned.
Since when did driving Rogue to her second date become a time for confessions?
“Hank was right, you both really are as bad as each other.”
Logan had to shake his head. “Wait, Hank? Beast Hank?”
Rogue could help but laugh.
For months Rogue had watched Logan and yourself get close to each other. She had to watch as the looks Logan gave you went from untrusted, to familiar, to friendly to…everything after the fact of trust. Not only could you see it in his eyes that he trusted you, but you could also see what he was too scared to admit to himself.
He was in love with you.
And had been for quite some time.
Of course, Rogue had only noticed this in the last couple of months.
Except, when talking with Hank as he cooked and she mostly watched and snacked on the parts he wasn’t using for the main meals, she realised it had been going on for years.
How you had looked at Logan. Intrigue, civil, uncharted, familiar, friendly, safe and,,,love.
And apparently Hank hadn’t been the only one in agony watching both of you. According to him, so were the rest of the team.
They were all just surprised nothing had actually happened yet.
“W-why are you laughing?” Logan’s gaze kept flicking from the passenger seat beside him to the road ahead until he finally pulled up outside the movie theatre.
“Because you’re both idiots.”
Logan didn’t look entirely amused. “Thanks, kid.”
“Look, I could tell you but…you need to work this one out for yourself. Thanks for dropping me off.”
As Rogue stepped out of the car, she closed the door and walked away. However, a few paces from the car she stopped and turned back around.
“Fuck it, I’m just gonna tell you.”
Leaning back inside the car, Logan looked back at her.
“You love her. And she loves you.” Rogue told him. “You’ve both loved each other for a long time and it’s about time you both do something about it before time passes and you’re both too chicken shit to do something about it. There is a reason everyone already thinks you're a couple, and that’s because when neither of you are thinking, you both act like it anyway. You should really see the way you look at each other, Lo. I hope I can find that some day, too. It’s rare. Don’t let it slip past you. Either of you.”
Rogue watched as Logan soaked in all of her words and then settled back behind the steering wheel.
Reaching into her bag, Rogue pulled out a book. “This was on the counter when I came downstairs.”
Logan took it from her. It was a new book. The new book you would be discussing about. Tonight.
“Figured she might need that. Maybe you can drop it off with her?”
Logan looked at Rogue and gave a smile. “Thanks, kid.”
Rogue shrugged. “Just mention me during your wedding speech.”
Shutting the car door, Rogue watched as Logan pulled out of his parking spot and drove down the street, turning the corner to head towards the address you had given him earlier that week.
“Just in case you or Rogue needs me.” You had told him.
Pulling up outside the house, KELLER written on the mailbox, Logan turned off the engine, took the book from the passenger seat and headed up the porch steps and knocked on the screen door.
From inside he heard laughing before a familiar face opened up the door.
“Oh, my. Logan, isn’t it?”
Logan nodded, trying his best to hide the flush on his cheeks. “Mrs Keller. I’m hoping Y/n is here. She left her book and I thought-”
Mrs Keller gave a wide smile and pushed open the screen door for him to come in. “Of course. The more the merrier. Your wife will be happy to see you, I’m sure. Follow me.”
As he did so, Logan soon found himself entering a second living room where around a dozen people were sitting in somewhat of a circle, either on the sofas or on the floor.
“Look who’s come for a surprise visit!” Mrs Keller announced.
Everyone turned with welcoming smiles and slightly shocked expressions.
“Logan.” You weren’t expecting to see him.
“Hey,” Logan breathed with a smile at seeing you. “Rogue. She picked up your book and I thought you might need it.”
You stood and took it from him softly. “Thanks.”
“Well, honey? Aren’t you going to give him a proper hello?”
Suddenly you and Logan felt a dozen pairs of eyes on you both and with a slight awkwardness, you leant up and kissed his cheek.
“Oh, come on. Girls, I tell you. Last week they were like two teenagers.”
You felt your cheeks go bright red and you hid your face with the cover of your book. The only comfort was Logan’s hand that hadn’t left your hip since you stepped into him to kiss his cheek.
“Oh, Logan, please. Will you stay?”
Logan looked around the room. It was the first time he understood the expression “Feeling like you were going to be eaten alive.”
“No, no. This is…your thing. I don’t want to intrude-”
“Nonsense! Besides, we’ve been dying to know more about our little mystery.” Mrs Keller said with nothing but affection.
“Who knew mystery could have so much romance?”
Logan turned to where the voice came from and by your reaction, he gauged the voice belonged to Prissy. Who’s name he would soon learn was Pricilla.
“I’d love to.” Logan replied, looking back to Mrs Keller.
“Wonderful!” She clapped her hands together and got comfortable in her chair. “Oh, Darwin, honey, come and sit by me so the lovebirds can sit together.”
The sofa in which Darwin had been sitting was as big as a seat and a half. So, when Logan did finally sit down, you were practically sitting on his lap, the only comfortable position you could find yourself in was tucked in by his side, your legs over his whilst his hand held your knees on his thighs.
Thankfully, your back was supported by the arm of the chair, but either way you felt yourself melt into Logan’s side, his body heat warming you. The fire Mrs Keller had on in the hearth was enough to heat the room but there was just something about Logan’s warmth that made it…different.
“Oh, you two just make the most adorable couple.” Mrs Keller smiled, watching the pair of you, noticing the smiles you gave each other as you both finally got comfortable in being so close to one another. “Like no one else is in the room.”
Logan heard Rogue’s words echo inside of his head.
She was right.
“Oh, you have to tell us how you met? Please.” Daisy asked from the floor beside the coffee table.
Prissy coughed. “Aren’t we more interested in discussing this week’s book?”
A chorus of “No” sounded out.
With a shlump, Prissy sat back with a noise stuck at the back of her throat.
“Oh, tell us how you met!” Darwin called out. “Start at the very beginning.”
“You know it’s gonna be a good story when they look at each other like that.” Daisy added on.
Prissy leaned forward. “You know, if you want a good love story, I can always tell you about how me and my darling husband met.”
Dawin groaned. Loudly. “We already know your story, Pricilla.”
“God knows we’ve heard it enough,” Mrs Keller mumbled.
“We want a new story and we want to hear about Y/n and Logan.”
You looked at Logan and Logan looked back. Something seemed different about him. It was almost like something was gleaming inside of him. You just couldn’t figure out what. Or why.
But you loved seeing a new side of him.
There was just something that made your stomach flip and your heart grow when Logan showed you another side of him. A side he didn’t let people see that often. Sometimes a side he wouldn’t let himself see.
“We met at work.” Logan told them.
“Yeah, he nearly bulldozed me in the Professor’s office.”
“I did not.”
“You did.” You countered. “I almost got a concussion from how hard you opened up that door.”
“You weren’t even near the door.”
“No, because I jumped out of the way when you did.”
Mrs Keller smiled. “Let me guess, you didn’t get off on the right foot?”
You shrugged. “Not particularly.”
“It took time…about six months before we had a real conversation. And even then it took time.”
Mrs Keller smiled with a knowing look. “The best ones always do.”
Over the next two hours, you and Logan were asked question after question. Most of them scolding you for not mentioning or bringing Logan to the book meetings sooner so they could all meet him.
Eventually, you did get onto the book you had all read. Prissy spent most of the time talking about the book and Logan got to witness first how she took the descriptions of a bird and placed the conversation back on her husband and what they had done during the week.
The first time, Logan could see it almost as sweet. After that it just got tedious.
But he couldn’t care. Not when he felt you fall into his side, allowing for his arm to come around your back, his hand fanned out across the exposed skin from your hip where your t-shirt had come untucked from your jeans.
As the fire in the hearth settled into a constant warmth, people started to get more relaxed and cosier, pulling up blankets, putting on Mrs Keller’s complimentary cosy socks.
Apparently she had a pair for everyone.
“Let me go and get some more snacks and then we can talk about chapter fifteen.” Mrs Keller gave a small gasp. “I didn’t see it coming.”
But you shot to your feet. “No, you sit down. Let me.”
“Oh, thank you, dear.”
Sitting back down, Logan stood with you and walked into the kitchen with you.
For a moment, you both talked about the book club and everything that had just happened before a comfortable lul came and you both realised you had to talk about the elephant in the room.
“We need to talk.” Logan told you.
“Do we?”
“Rogue told me something and it’s been on my mind ever since. And I can’t stop thinking how much she might be right.”
You poured some pretzels from the jar into a section of the dish. “Really? It must be bad if you’re agreeing with her.”
“Can you just…look at me for a second?”
You stopped pouring the snacks and looked at Logan, only for him to grab your hands and hold them in his. Running his thumbs over your knuckles, you forced yourself out of your thoughts and back to focusing on the real Logan in front of you.
“I think I’ve known it for a while, I just don’t think I’ve been able to let myself know it because, if I do…look, I’ve lost a lot of people.”
He was scaring you now.
“Logan, what’s going on?”
“I’ve lost a lot of people,” he finally looked you in the eye. “But I’ve come to realise you are not someone I can lose, Y/n. I don’t want to lose you. But if I don’t tell you something now, there might be a day when I could still lose you anyway.”
“Logan, you’re scaring me. Has something happened? What did Rogue say to you? I told you not to talk to her. That kid can be scary.”
Logan chuckled at that. It was true. Especially more recently. Very recently, in fact.
“I’m in love with you, Y/n.”
You felt yourself falter and stiffen at his words.
“You are the person I trust the most in this world, and I don’t say that lightly. I trust you and I love you. But I can’t lose you. So…” Logan took a breath. “Please tell me if I’m going to lose you because of this, because I don’t want to. I don’t want to ever lose you. Especially over something that I’ve done.”
“You…you love me?” You questioned. “Logan…how…when…Logan, you can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because you…you just can’t.”
You were in shock and disbelief. “I’m not someone you fall in love with.”
“Little late for that.”
“I’m being serious.” Pulling your hands from his, you walked away for a second. You needed space. You needed to breathe. You needed…you needed…
“So am I.”
You couldn’t help but scoff. “Logan…I…you…we…we don’t…”
“We don’t…what?” Logan asked you.
“We don’t fit, Logan. We…we spent years building…us. Don’t you think that couples tend to know- if not instantly, a little sooner than us?”
“Y/n. I love you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I love you.”
Logan started walking closer to you, repeating his words with every step.
“Logan, you don’t.”
Taking you by the shoulders, he looked you in the eyes. “Yes, I do. And…I’d wager to say you feel the same, too.”
“Logan…”
“Just listen to me.” Logan begged. “Please.”
And so you did.
“Coming in here to tell you this? I didn’t expect you to tell me the same. I still don’t. I get you’re scared. Hell, I’m terrified. But the only thing that is keeping me from running out of that door is you. I know you, Y/n. And you know me, so when I stand here telling you that I love you, you know I’m not lying. You know that you are the only person I cannot lie to. I respect you too much to do that.”
Logan continued.
“But just now…you said ‘us’. And after what almost happened the other night and what happened in the kitchen with Hank…hell, even back there with the Town Gossip Board…”
Logan studied your face for a moment. You were fighting back tears, white knuckling the countertop beside you both.
“I can’t lose you, Y/n. So, please, tell me now. Just answer me this and if you want me to walk away I will. Do you love me?”
“Logan…”
Logan’s grip on you tightened for a moment as he bit his lip saying your name. He was desperate for an answer, wishing for you to say yes. For you to tell him not to walk away.
He couldn’t lose you…but maybe he already had.
“Please…” His voice broke. “Please.”
And then you broke.
“Of course I love you.”
Pulling him in by his collar, you held your other hand against his face before kissing him. It wasn’t soft or gentle. It was full of desperate and an outburst of emotion that you couldn’t put into words. You could only hope he knew what you meant by your kiss.
Almost instantly you felt his hands come to your waist before he pushed against you, kissing you back, allowing his arms to snake up and around your back, holding you flush against his chest. All the while, his lips caught yours once more after half a breath.
Your tears dried up and your hand fell to Logan’s side as he turned you, your ass bumping against the lower counter in the kitchen. A low groan came from the back of Logan’s throat as your hand dipped under his t-shirt and your fingers raked across his skin and up the side of his torso.
However, just as Logan was about to lift you onto the counter, you both heard a voice call out from the living room.
“Did you manage to find the pretzels? They’re in the cabinet above the stove!”
You and Logan pulled away, breathless. With his hands tangled in your hair and your forehead pressed against his, Logan forced a swallow, his cheeks heating as he smiled, still feeling your hand on his skin.
“Yeah, we’ve got em’!” Logan called out. “We’ll be there in a second.”
You let out a small laugh, as did Logan.
“How long have you got left here?”
You turned your head to look at the rustic clock above the kitchen dresser. “About an hour.”
“Make it 45?”
“50.” You gave it as an offer. “I still want to find out what they thought about Chapter twenty two.”
Almost out of arm's reach, Logan pulled you back. “Hey.”
“What?” You asked, allowing yourself to fall back into him.
Looking at you, Logan smiled before brushing the hair from your face and leaving you with a kiss that left you a little stunned and dizzy in the best way imaginable.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“Wait.” Logan said once more, before pulling you back. You laughed a little.
“If we spend any more time in here, Mrs Keller is going to think we’re about to defile her kitchen.”
“We almost did,” Logan smirked watching your face heat before he started fixing your hair and your top.
And you did the same with him.
Finally walking back into the living room with the snacks, you and Logan sat back down together, your legs draped over his lap all the while your fingers subtly played with the ends of his hair, allowing your nails to run up and down the back of his neck every once in a while that had him shifting in his seat.
You were out of there within forty minutes.
But not before Mrs Keller gave Logan his own pair of cosy socks.
“Yellow and blue,” she told him. “For some reason, they speak to me. They’re yours. You’re an honorary member. Feel free to drop in any session. We’d love to hear more about you two.”
Both yourself and Logan smiled before walking back to the car where he opened up the door for you before walking around and getting into the driver's seat.
It took all of a month before everyone found out you and Logan had finally come together. Rogue and Hank seemed the most relieved that something had finally snapped between you two.
You both spent most mornings and nights tangled in each other’s arms, finally free to admit the truth to each other.
You had loved Logan for a long time. And he had loved you just as long.
Neither of you planned on stopping that any time soon.
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You're Angry at the Tall Men
Masterlist Here
I have two very dear mutual creators on here that are struggling with the flu. Hopefully yelling at the tall men of one-piece will help you both out: @feral-artistry & @sordidmusings
Word Count: 200-400 per gentleman: Buggy, Shanks, Mihawk, Sir Crocodile, Corazon, Doflamingo
Warnings: anger, violence, suggestive spice for a few, angst, afab!implied but not overly mentioned, height difference.
First time writing for Cora, Croc and Doffy - mainly going off small clips and overall vibes. Apologies if I didn't do your blorbo justice.
(Apprehensive tag list: @gingernut1314, @writingmysanity)
He knows what he did to earn your wrath; your fury ignited in your eyes and the flames physically tangible and searing the room with your scorn. Your brow was furrowed, your lips curling into a snarl to bare your pearled teeth at him.
Buggy: 6’3
“Sit your tall ass down!” you roared at him. The clown shrieked back, immediately reaching his stuttering hands towards the back of a chair to unceremoniously fall back onto the wooden base. Unfortunately, as his ass barely grazes the base; his weight proceeds to fall from its intended target, plopping down onto the cement ground instead of finding comfort on the chair.
“Ah, fuck!” he cried out alongside his wince, his red nose creased as he felt the pain shoot up his coxic bone and tingle up his spine. This moment of failure breaking a small crack in your iron fury, a giggle attempting to break through your anger. He winces his beautiful teal eyes up at you, cringing through the pain and gritting his teeth in an attempt of a smile.
“You are so pathetic,” you growled at him, extending your hand out and collecting his chin within your thumb and index finger. You were held captive by his sparkling eyes beneath his lengthy blue eyelashes as he looked up at you in awe.
“It’s why you love me, right?” he whimpered at you, his crooked smile drawing you in closer to him. You stooped, pressing a small kiss against his rotund, red nose.
“Yes,” you again growled at him, pouting with your brow falling low in the center of your forehead, “but I’m still angry at you.”
“I know,” he grumbled in response, his eyes upturning and almost pleading, “but I can fix that, right?”
Shanks: 6’6
“Woah, woah, love!” he cried out, backing away from your approach with his wide smile plastered to his cheeks. He was still smiling, even when you backed him against the wall with your forearm horizontally pressing him back into the wooden banister behind him.
“You absolute stupid, ridiculous, drunken-,” one look into his loving eyes rendered you immediately defenseless to his aura. He looked at you with such love, his brown eyes holding only softness and adoration within them. He brings up his arm, choosing to caress your cheek and lace a loose strand of your hair to hook over your cheek.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered into you, leaning his head down and moving his lips against your forehead to murmur into your skin, “forgive me, I didn’t mean it.” Inhaling a deep breath, you feel the rage falling away from you as he continued murmuring sweet nothings into your ear.
“You’re so beautiful when you’re angry,” he breathed his raspy voice into your ear.
“And you’re so handsome when you’re not the one making me angry,” you growled back at him.
Mihawk 6’6
“Mihawk!” your rumbled growl echoed in the high ceilings lifting the light in the large dining room. He was stooping, fingertips halting their descent to grasp the back of his dining chair. He huffed out a sigh, rotating his neck and removing his hat from his head. He placed the hat on his dining setting, and prepared himself to receive your wrath.
As soon as you saw him preparing himself to receive the scorn you were about to bear down on him, you decided to switch it up. Something about how smug he was did not satiate your fire from erupting further. You had every intention of taking him by his wrist and leading him to the impressive steps of the foyer and taking a few steps up to bring you to the appropriate height to maintain eye contact as you reprimanded him.
But his ear was right there, no longer shielded by his broad hat to halt your action. Immediately, you pressed your index and middle finger against the overly sensitive shell of his ear and began dragging him towards the archway leading to the foyer.
“Not quite so hard, dear,” he winced as his steps stuttered behind you. You allowed a sinister smirk to rise on your lips, gaining a sickening amount of joy from knowing you were paining him a little to satisfy your wrath. As your feet found the steps, you relinquished your hold on his ear and turned to face him, your eyes first glancing at the raven curls atop his head that you rarely are accustomed to seeing these days. His head was bowed, his hand drawn up to cradle his ear and sooth over the throbbing shell. At this, your anger ceased and you immediately sought out his eyes by cupping his cheeks and elevating his face.
“I’m sorry, my love. Did I hurt you, are you okay?” you hastily spoke, eyes checking over his face for any semblance of hurt or pain.
“Only my pride, dear,” he replied in a soft grumble, continuing to keep his eyes from joining with your own. You sighed in relief before shaking your head to remind yourself why you brought him here in the first place. You furrowed your brow and slunk your hands from his cheeks to fall them against his chest.
“I’m-,” you began, your angry words halted by Mihawk taking a step forward and pressing his forehead against your own.
“-I’m sorry. Forgive me,” he whispered into your face, his eyes half lidded and sorrow falling over his face, “I never meant to hurt you, and I’m willing to spend all the time it takes to make it up to you.”
Sir Crocodile 8’3
Clutching his cigar in his index and middle fingers, he flicked the ash into the glass and gold tray on his desk. He could hear the fall of your feet outside the door, his jaw falling slack in bored frustration.
“You devious bastard,” you growled as the door to his office flung open. He inhaled deeply, reaching into his desk drawer and pulling out another cigar to clench his teeth onto. As your eyes met, his brow arched while his eyelids hung half-lidded. He sat back against his armchair and uncrossed his legs from their join of the knees. Remaining wordless, he fished around in his pants for his lighter, to find nothing but his golden pocket watch and a few rolls of berry within his leatherbound wallet.
“Be a dear and find me a light,” he dismissed your anger with the wave of his hand as his eyes searched his desk for his capped lighter. This seemed to engage your fury further, making you immediately lunge at him and crawl onto his lap. You drew your claw-shaped grip up to his jaw, snarling into his face as you did so.
“You think I care about your lighter right now, you arrogant lizard,” you spat at him. His eyes widened in surprise, initially being taken off guard by your presence atop his thigh. Immediately after processing the shock, his eyes darkened as he used his large, golden hook to circle around your thigh; trapping it within the metal and drawing it closer into him. Your kneeling position atop his lap was now made ever more dangerous than it had been, not knowing how he would truly respond to your anger. Both of your tempers began to flare as he snarled at you.
“Lighter first,” he growled at you, looking up into your enraged eyes as your hair cascaded down over his face, draped almost intimately over his forehead. You scoffed, flicking the hair over your shoulder and grimaced at him in response.
“And why should I do that after what you did?” you gnashed your teeth, baring your rage in your now untested situation. The tense air now growing thick and dense as your bodies pressed closer together. He gripped your hips with his hand, his golden hook scraping over your thigh and placing your knee over his waist as he drew you closer.
“Lighter first,” he began to snarl at you, “or I will channel your rage in another way.”
“Try me, Reptile,” you snarled at him, clenching your teeth as you stooped lower into his face. He immediately stood, his tall body hoisting you up against his hips and slamming your back atop his desk. He hovered over your body, leaning his face down and snarling into you,
“You should’ve just done what you were told,” He growled into your neck.
“You shouldn't have pissed me off,” you gnashed your teeth once more, your eyes widening as you felt his teeth bite down hard on your clavicle, soothing over the new injury with his tongue.
Corazon 9’7
“Donquixote Rosinante!” you shouted, walking around the halls and tracking the stupor of his step. You immediately heard a thud, followed by several crashing booms reverberating within the hallway. None of these sounds halted your descent, your rage and fury propelling your steps further towards him.
When your eyes fell over his body, he was hoisting himself up from his entanglement with several cleaning products; a mop over his head and a bucket circling over his left foot. He looked ridiculous, his coat hanging limply from his shoulders over his open heart-stitched shirt.
As he rose to his feet, you were taken aback at how truly tall he was; his body towering over your own. You lost your nerve slightly at his stature, but still the edges of your body remained singed with the fires of rage within your soul.
“Cora-!” your words were halted by the man drawing such anger from you wordlessly holding up his palm to silence you. Your brows fell further down your face, your frown deepening as you watched him silently search his surroundings. His eyes widened first, before softening as he stooped down to collect the bucket that was once wrapped around his foot. He blew over the base of the bucket with a small puff of breath, placing the brim on the ground and dusting the base with the back of his hand.
He turned his painted face up to you, a tight smile pulling at his mouth as he extended his hand to you. You sucked in a breath through your nostrils, pouting as you took his hand. Stepping up onto the bucket, you still remained short to his great height. Still holding onto your hand, his smile softened as he bent at the knees to crouch in front of you, looking up into your face with eyes baring great sorrow at how angry you were with him.
Relinquishing the hold against your hand, he gestured for you to bare your soul out to him with a simple swipe of his hands. He was so willing to have you share your emotions with him, it almost made you want to cry with frustration at how truly loving he was to you.
“You’re just going to sit back and take it? Say something, Cora. Anything!” You screamed, the sting of tears beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes. He continued to watch on, never once rising from his crouch, nor bringing his eyes away from searching your face. It was only when a hot, frustrated tear fell from your eye down your cheek that he rose up to his full size once more.
He wordlessly drew his palm up to claim your cheek, his thumb brushing the tear away from its descent down towards your mouth.
“Please,” you whimpered while searching his eyes, “please say something.”
He leant forward, pressing his forehead against yours and closing his eyes, circling the other arm around your shoulders and holding your chest flush with his own. His lips found the crown of your head, pressing a soft and careful kiss against the top of your hair.
“Calm,” he uttered, the room circled around him by the spark of his devil-fruit power. You looked at him confused, your nostrils flaring at him while still expressing your anger.
“Why use the devil-fruit powers now?” you asked him, shaking your head at him as all else in the hallway was silenced. No taps of feet, no drips of taps, nor the sounds of breeze through the trees outside the room could be heard within the silent barrier.
“Because I want everyone to know how angry you are with me,” he uttered, his nose lovingly brushing against your own, “And I want to be able to scream how much I love you with no consequence.” He pressed his lips against your forehead, smearing his red face paint against your skin as he trailed a flurry of gentle kisses against your nose, cheek bones and the corner of your lips in an attempt to smother the flames of your anger.
“This doesn’t make up for what you did,” you spat at him, your narrowed eyes looking at him through your eyelashes remaining dark with fury.
“I know,” he admitted, unwrapping his arm from circling your shoulders. He grazed his arm down and collected your hand once more within his, lacing your fingers together as he uttered, “I’m so sorry, my darling. I’ll never do it again.”
Doflamingo 10’
He was immediately expressing joy at how riled up he had managed to make you, his lips curling back into a sinister smile. He darted his tongue out over his mouth to dampen his chapped lip before he allowed a rumbly chuckle to exit from his chest.
“Doflamingo!” You screamed, rage and fury overcasting your usual stoic state with their venom. He rose to his feet and was almost bursting at the seams with how happy getting a rise from you was making him.
“How dare you?! How dare you do that to me?!” You roared, not halting your approach in any way. He towered over you, his lanky build condescendingly casting his feathered silhouette over your body.
“I don’t give a fuck,” he shrugged, speaking quickly with a broad grin continuing to polish his cheeks. His eyes remained hidden by his glasses, your own eyes beginning to prick at the corners with a frustrated rage.
“Wipe that horrible grin off your face before I rip it off,” you spat, your hands demonstrating how truly violent your thoughts were.
“Only if you do it with your teeth, Princess,” he bore his teeth down at you. His smile widened further up his cheeks, your urge to claw out his eyes not satisfied in the slightest. You impulsively swung your hand at his face, your wrist caught within his circled grip. His laughter erupted over his chest at this small demonstration of violence, so easily stifled by his hands.
“Ohh, you’ve got some fire in you today,” he chucked his taunt at you, leaning down further into you; his nose almost brushing against your own with how close he drew himself down to you, “What I’d give to see that demonstrated with your body wrapped around my- AHH.” You halted his words within his mouth by clamping your teeth down against his nose hard enough to draw blood. After tasting the metallic flavor roll over your tongue, you withdrew your teeth from his flesh and bore your red-tinted lips at him.
He reached up to clutch the scruff of your neck, pulling you closer into him and purring a roar of his own into you:
“Mmm, Harder.”
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If you're writing for dp3 then Hiraeth from your prompt list would work SO well since they're all stuck in the void! 🤲🏽😭 We need Gambit fics its a DROUGHT HELP
♧ ⎯ LUCK O’ THE DRAW !
summ. You find the Devil himself at the end of the world. Surprisingly, it isn’t the first time you have. It is, however, the first time it hurts.
pairing. Void!Gambit x f!Anomaly!reader (established relationship. Kinda. Multiverse be funky like 'dat.)
w.count. 1.8k
a/n. Because Channing deserved that Gambit all those years ago, and I've come to (attempt to) deliver what the the people have asked. Masterlist here.
MOST PEOPLE MEET THE DEVIL at a crossroads, but you meet yours in— quite literally— the back end of fuckin’ nowhere.
It hurt more than it should.
Your heart practically stutters.
“Remy.”
Then he turns, and you wait for the flash of recognition in his eyes.
Nothing comes.
And then. And then.
Realisation— logic. The cold, hard truth: This isn’t your Remy LeBeau. Your Remy had died long before, in a Universe that was pruned and erased into nothingness by the TVA. Your Universe. The joke? That the Gambit before you is merely a variant amongst a million. The punchline? He looks exactly the same as the day you’d lost your own.
“Well, this is awkward. You know off-shoot Hawkeye here?” Wade says, astonished, before his eyes widened. “Ah. Tragic exposition time for the readers, I see.”
Your mind is still reeling. It feels like someone’s just jammed a chisel straight into your gut. “I— Knew a version. Variant, I guess,” you manage to correct yourself, distracted by the skirting trenchcoat and the all too familiar sound of shuffling cards.
Christ, it’s like he’d stepped right out of your memories.
Remy’s eyebrows shoot up as he studies you. Something in your chest pulls taut, threatening to snap as he speaks. “Apologies, mon ami. But as far as I remember, I ain’t never seen you before.”
“Ouch,” Wade winces, looking between you both. “What a classic trope! This is like, me talking to my past Mom in The Adam Project. Funnily enough, my Mom was you!” He snorts, pointing to Elektra.
You ignore Wade and offer Remy a wan smile. “I figured. It’s okay.”
…It is obviously, in fact, not okay.
You avoid him like a plague shortly after the entire commotion; it’s almost comical. Wade had managed to come up with a plan with the rest of the group, albeit a ramshackle, flimsy one, but you’ve hardly been able to pay attention through the bloodrush of shock rocketing in your head, anyway.
Being around this Remy is stunningly stifling.
The lilt of his accent, the sharpness in his smile; the flourishing of cards and the faint hum-drum of kinetic charge against his fingertips.
You’ve seen it all before, once upon a time. You never thought any of it could ever bring you to this bad of a heel.
It hadn’t taken long before you’d tried drowning yourself at the end of a bottle of brandy Logan had handed you that night. (The whiskey tames his mordance and makes him uncharacteristically civil. He’d said something along the lines of: Y’need this more than I do, bub; look like you’ve just seen a fuckin’ ghost. Shit, I guess you did, huh? )
“Mais la,” comes a huff. “Ain’t that mine?”
A frisson runs through your heart.
“Sorry,” you say, barely glancing up from the barrel fire tucked outside the team’s hideout. You’re not quite sure you can handle meeting his gaze. “I know I should’ve asked.”
A playful hum. Remy settles on the log adjacent to yours. “S’alright. No harm done, chèr.”
It takes everything in you not to flinch at the endearment. If he’d noticed, well— he’s smart enough not to mention it. He’s curious and it stands to reason; afterall, he’s never quite seen someone look at him as weathered as the way you do. It’s as if the effort itself to do so would be unbearable.
“Y’kno’, I been told I’m easy on the eyes. Not for you, tho’, eh?” Remy shoots you an amicable smile. It’s charming, if a little compelling. “Guessin’ I made bad on you where y’from? You done been boudéin’ since y’first got here.”
You let out a laugh. It’s the most brittle sound he’s ever heard come from someone.
“No, no,” you shake your head. “It’s… You just make me a lil’ homesick, is all.”
Remy bristles with his deck of cards. A Charlier cut; a One-handed shuffle. It’s a mindless tic; your variant used to do the exact same with the exact same ease.
(Such a miracle, you remember thinking once, that there could be symmetries in the Multiverse. Now you learn, perhaps, it’s far more a curse. Either way, you can hear Remy’s doting voice in a distant memory, dimpling coyly at you: “S’just the luck o’ your draw, chèr.” )
You tamp down the memory before it could sink its jowls any deeper in you.
“You’re curious,” you say.
He makes a noise of assent. Revolution cut; One-handed shuffle. Repeat.
“I ain’t gon’ axe if y’ain’t wanna answer.”
It’s kind of him.
You forgot he was like this.
Witty, yet gentlemanly. The way Remy always has been.
Underneath the blanket of the night, the crackle of the flames limn the planes of his face in flickering, hazy saffron. The look in his eyes is sincere as they meet your red-rimmed gaze. It’s been awhile since you’ve seen him, and in this light no less: tall, cutting, strong.
Lively.
The last you’d seen Remy, he’d been drawn out and battered by the war. Not that he’d ever admit it; he always insisted on keeping up his sunny disposition despite the constant losing battles happening. (Sometimes you think you resent him for doing that; it’d felt like he’d taken the light of the world with him when—)
You thank your lucky stars the variant Remy doesn’t make a comment on how you must be staring so openly. It’s a feeble attempt to committing every detail to memory, you suppose, in case you don’t get the chance again.
“In my Universe, a war was waging against mutants.” Your nails tinker against the empty bottleneck of the flat whiskey you’d nursed, thinking of how to cut a bloodshed of a story short; to get your point across before you falter and lose your footing.
“There was a mission sanctioned, and during it— a decision had to be made at that moment. So… you chose. Easily.” Your brows pinch tight against your will. The molten burn returns to the back of your eyes. “You saved so many lives the day you died.”
Something catches in your throat when you realise your mistake, find yourself amending instantly, “He. He died.”
(It had been swift. A small mercy, all things considered. There wasn’t even a need to check for a pulse when you finally managed to reach for him.)
You’re fidgeting, too, with something in your other hand. Remy catches sight of it only now: a card, sitting pinched between your ringed fingers. Nine of Hearts. Its edges are torn and creased across the face, singed an ashen black.
A proverbial piece of Remy’s heart, carried to the end with you.
He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a cold rush over his body at the sight.
“…I’m sorry, chèr,” he offers quietly, inadequate as it is. He hadn’t expected that.
He can’t imagine how haunting it must be to look at someone you’d shared a lifetime with and be met with a complete stranger instead.
A living, breathing, ghost.
That unbiddable feeling of longing had always seemed to accompany the sight of him; but now it’s different. Now, there’s a blistering, brutal pain to come with; All-encompassing grief, thick as molasses in your lungs, overturning itself like a phantom from wherever you thought you’d buried it a long time ago.
The only way to smother it would be to reach out, to hold him like you had once before, and isn’t that an ironic inconvenience?
“No, no. I’m sorry,” you tell him, sigh coming out as an awkward laugh. A breeze passes and you inhale deep to ground yourself. Press your eyes shut momentarily to will away useless tears. “It must be so weird to hear all of this from me about— well, you, technically.”
“Mais, can’t ‘ave all been a bad memory, tho’, right?”
Right. No. It hadn’t been. There’s something else too. An undercurrent. Beyond the grief, the deep ache in your marrows— you think it’s nostalgia. Hiraeth. More bittersweet than it is painful.
It’s… It’s watching mutant schoolkids teaching him UNO for the first time. It’s the bickering over the beignets for breakfast, or your feet on his lap at the couch in the lounge after dinners with the rest of the X-Men. Lazy banter. Conversations that go everywhere and nowhere.
“Yeah,” you agree, feeling something bloom in your chest you thought long lost. “You taught me everything about your home, too. Down South. Told me about the bayou, the cypress trees. Your Cajun, your ways. We used to play Bourré.”
Talk of home has him ducking into a laugh. Remy had been in the Void far longer than the rest (he figures, at least)— he’s very nearly lost most of his fragmented memories to time by now. “Did I? Oughta’ play a game or two wit’ you.”
You buckle at that. “Ah. You were always the better player.”
Then:
He makes the leap before he runs out of steam. “Was we…?”
His finger darts between the space you two share.
“Oh, no,” you override, sheepishly. “No, we, we were good friends and stayed good friends. I was—” Your breath scurries; a reconsideration. “I was glad with that. You had a Southern belle named Anna Marie. A powerful mutant called Rogue. You two were good for each other.”
You must have given yourself away somewhere, though, the way Remy is reading you with a pinned gaze. It’s the same, levelled look you’ve seen before— the kind he gets in a game of cards.
Something discerning eclipses in his eyes.
He’d gotten the measure of you in an instant.
“Gambit musta’ been blind blind not t’see you.”
Ah.
You smile. It’s windswept. Resigned. “Well. Doesn’t matter now, does it? My Gambit’s gone. No matter how much I wish I can see him again.”
Remy’s eyes dart to your hands.
“Y’kno’, chèr,” he begins, something spirited in his tone. “In the world of cards, each a’ these and they suits hold a meanin’.”
He flourishes his deck, hypnotisingly smooth with every elegant cut, fan and spring. Every shuffle cascades as smooth as liquid in the sleight of his hands.
“Some of my folks back in New Orleans I remember, they learned me to read ‘em. Now, outta the whole deck? What you got there; the Nine of Hearts is also called the Wish card.”
The small laugh that punches out of you is bell-like. “Really?”
It’s warm. Bright. Musical to his ears. It washes over him, and he can’t help but hang on to the peal. He wanted to hear it again.
“Yes, Ma’am.” Remy clicks his tongue as he shoots you a sunny look. “Would never lie t’you, chèr.”
The cracks in your soul don’t disappear, but they surely lighten as you look gently at him. “Huh. Well, I guess I got my wish, didn’t I?”
He chuckles.
“Mais, I ain’t your Gambit but—”
He leans. Reaches out behind your ear with an empty palm, playfully revealing a gilded card from seemingly thin air with a sharp flick of his wrist:
Another Nine of Hearts. His. He hands it over to you, by way of meaning— I’m here, now.
New beginnings.
You take the card with a smile.
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