#He Brings Me Flowers (Logan)

[imtherain]

He Brings Me Flowers: (Sex Pollen/Logan) Part One

Hey hey heyo

I'm only a few days late and this is only half the fic, but I promised I'd publish this sooner, so I broke it in half. I'll probably post a full version too at some point.

Warnings: Sex Pollen, some fighting, plants!, surprise lesbians, newly married Jean/Scott, reader is in 1rst person because I write better that way usually, a lot of internal talking, negative self image, kinda of a cliff hanger, no sex specifically but people get a bit frisky.

I promise I'm trying to finish the rest, but my brain cells are tired

Word Count (I shouldn't tell you): just shy of 10k for this one

tagging @gothamnighthawk because I took a screenshot (promptly forgot which thing she wanted tagged in and took the last 20 minutes verifying I had the right fic)

[Masterlist]

[Logan List]

Here we go!

It all started with what sounded like a basic mission, recon only, investigating a base that had been found in a dense forest a few miles outside of a small town I’d never heard of, just across the Canadian border. The rumor was that the base was working on creating new biological weapons, but when I landed the jet, all we’d really found was a sudden, inexplicable, field of flowers.

Honestly, the place was extraordinarily beautiful, like stepping into a whole different world. The field was entirely surrounded by trees, sentinels against the outside world, holding the flower field in its arms like it was afraid they would escape. Perhaps that should have been warning enough… something too pretty in a place it shouldn’t be.

No one seemed to have any issues as we approached. And there were a lot of us, considering it was a simple recon mission, but it was a chance to stretch everyone’s legs, so basically anyone who wanted to come along had been allowed to join. 

Jean and Scott hadn’t been on a mission at all since their honeymoon, so they signed up. Rogue had been asking to go on a mission for months now, and Ororo only let her because she tagged along to keep an eye on the younger woman. And then there was Logan, who just seemed to be the default on every mission. I heard Scott joke once that they needed to bring him to ‘take the dog for a walk so he didn’t chew up anyone’s shoes’.

Oh, and of course, there was me.

I really enjoyed going on missions, but mostly because I really enjoyed flying the jet. It not only was a blast, but it made me feel useful, which was nice, because my mutations didn’t really seem all that great compared to everyone else’s. All I could do was freeze someone in time for a bit, which sounds far cooler than it is, and there weren’t exactly a lot of cases for that being particularly useful. I’d only really ever used it to hold someone until someone more important than me could come get them. And even that was rare. 

At the end of the day I was just really fancy handcuffs.

Logan and Scott were bickering while we made our way through the flowers. In patches the petals were yellows, some as big as the mammoth sunflowers my aunt used to grow, and some smaller petalled ones that looked like black-eyed-Susans. Another patch was all creamy whites, three or four different petal groupings. One patch was pale orange, another, brilliant reds. Some looked familiar and some were totally alien to me. It was almost as though every flower someone could think of was here in the field around us.

Jean and Rouge were walking behind the boys, trying to deescalate, and Ororo was right behind them. She seemed just as interested in the flowers as I was.

“Wouldn’t be a mission without those two fighting, would it?” Ororo’s voice came from beside me suddenly. I nodded.

“I swear, I don’t even hear it anymore, it’s just like how I got used to the train whistle when I lived near a crossing,” We laughed.

“Do these flowers seem off to you?” Ororo asked carefully. It was almost as though she was trying to check to see if she was hallucinating or not.

“I was wondering how they got so many varieties to bloom all at once,” I agreed. “Because back that way I saw a whole bunch of flowers that shouldn’t be blooming this time of year, right next to ones that shouldn’t be growing this far north at all,” 

“Maybe they have something to do with the intel we received,” Ororo said. 

“What are you ladies talking about back here,” Logan’s voice drew both of our attention away from the patch of warm golden flowers we’d been admiring.

“Do these flowers seem weird to you?” I asked him. Logan’s eyes traced my face quickly before he glanced across the field. Ororo smirked at me but I ignored her.

“Not really,” He shrugged. “It all smells the same,” 

“What does it smell like?” Ororo asked, obviously hoping for some sort of insight. 

“Flowers,” He said unhelpfully. Ororo rolled her eyes at him and went to catch up with the others. Leaving me alone with Logan. 

Who was staring at me.

“What? Is there something on me?” I asked, alarmed. With this many flowers around, it wouldn’t be a surprise for there to be all kinds of bees. I wasn’t allergic that I knew of, but I also didn’t really want to find out otherwise.

“Nothing,” Logan shook his head. “Just thinking about how it’s been a while since I’ve seen you out on a mission,” 

“I literally fly you to every mission,” I rolled my eyes at him and started walking again. I didn’t want to get too far behind everyone else. Not to mention, being alone with Logan had the bad habit of making me daydream about him falling hopelessly in love with me one day.

Which I knew for a fact, was delusional at best.

“Well yeah, but you usually wait in the jet,” Logan pressed. “It’s nice to see you out,” 

“Just another person for you to show off for, huh?” I smirked, thinking I caught him.

“Nah,” He disagreed. “I don’t show off for those losers,” He nodded towards the group ahead of us with no malice in his tone. “I only show off for pretty girls like you,”

I scoffed.

“Laying it on pretty thick today,” I rolled my eyes at him even though my cheeks were red. Logan chuckled and I hated that I had the feeling he knew exactly how warm his compliment had made my chest.

But I also really wished he wouldn’t tease me so much. I knew he wouldn’t want someone like me and that he only did it to make my blush and nothing more. We were coworkers, neighbors kind of since we both lived in the adult dorms, and sometimes I’d even dare to say we were friends. But anything other than that? There was no way. He only called me pretty as a favor, a harmless tease, the way I told every cat I saw that he was handsome. And I mean, every cat is handsome, so maybe that isn’t the right comparison.

All I knew was that Logan wouldn’t want to fall in love with me. No one ever did. 

I had convinced myself I was just fine with that. Just like every other boy I’d ever gotten feelings for. I was a friend at best, never a girlfriend, never even someone to fuck. I’d made my peace with that as a young woman who found herself surrounded by doors that stayed shut, stayed locked, stayed with their flashing signs that read “Love Inside: No Admittance.”

We came upon the building not long after. It looked remarkably like an office building of some sort, but it was only one story tall and sprawling. Logan, as always, led the charge inside, checking corners and doorways as we made our way through the surprisingly unlocked front doors. I stayed with Ororo and Rouge who were both better in hand to hand situations than I was, even though I had gotten pretty good at sparring. Mostly that was thanks to Logan who taught me how to kick someone’s ass without worrying about hurting them, as that had always been an issue I had sparring with the other women. 

I was simply… bigger than them. Both taller and thicker. Hell, I knew for a fact you could add Ororo and Jean together and I’d still have about 30 pounds on them. Not to mention the time I’d given Ororo a black eye when she had finally convinced me to spar with her, and that was the same day I’d knocked the wind out of her when I wasn’t even trying to. 

Clumsy at best, uncoordinated. Not really useful for much of anything when you can’t even control your limbs correctly. Why would they bother to bring you on missions if you couldn’t fly the jet?

We didn’t see much of anything on the first level of the building. A few cameras mounted high on the wall, but they were all busted and clearly not functional. Empty offices with dusty shelves and overturned chairs. A pile of metal folding chairs collapsed near the front doors.

One room was full of empty flower pots, which was strange but harmless. Honestly, it looked as though no one had even set foot in the place in several years.

The lower level showed signs of life, but not signs of weapons being made.

The level appeared to have been mostly conference rooms originally, large glass windows looking into square spaces from a nondescript hallway. The first one was mostly empty, the only thing left was another stack of those uncomfortable metal chairs pushed against a wall. A large, dark stain, bloomed in the middle of the carpet. It smelled like mold and must.

Most of the other rooms were filled, or at least partially filled, with vines. The whole level smelled thick and cloying like a greenhouse with all the fans off. No airflow. All green air and black earth.

“Never seen anything like this before,” Jean mused.

“What, you never saw Little Shop of Horrors?” Logan asked. 

“Let’s hope this is nothing like that,” Scott slid himself into the conversation, as he always did when Logan talked to Jean. 

“Nothing seems to be moving,” I added. “But everything seems to be alive,” 

“Unsettling,” Rouge shivered at the thought. “And weren’t there supposed to be people here?” 

“Oh god, I hope they aren’t in there with all those vines,” I felt my throat constrict at the thought. 

“I don’t really want those nightmares,” Scott agreed. 

“I don’t sense anything with a heartbeat,” Jean soothed our worries, but seemed a bit nervous about whatever it was she did sense. “Not here anyway,” 

“Are you sensing something somewhere else?” Scott paused in front of her, his hands going to her arms to sooth her. They were sweet, Scott always coming to Jean’s aid, trying to make things ok for her in every way he possibly could. I often wondered if I’d like to be taken care of like that, but I figured it would make me feel like a child, and I hated being treated like a child. 

Jean said something back to Scott and he smiled at her softly.

After a while, watching them just sort of hurt my teeth.

I paused at a desk that was half covered with the greenery spilling out of the room next to it. It almost looked like the vines had either pushed the desk out of their way, or were trying to pull it back in. And these vines seemed to be leafier. Broad expanses begging to get sunlight. I wondered who would be cruel enough to grow plants like that in the dark. Or rather mostly dark, as there were a few fluorescent lights still doing their best.

Under the reaching leaves, I found some papers. Most were water damaged and useless, but one appeared to be an old magazine clipping of a man smiling at the camera, a greenhouse in the background. The way the picture had been torn from the magazine had removed the top half of the man’s head, but you could still make out the smile, still see the teeth.

There was a boy next to the man, but the boy wasn’t smiling. He was holding a potted plant to his chest, as if hoping he could hide behind the many different flower heads all coming out of it. He wore a black jacket that seemed all the more dark next to the taller man’s white lab coat.

“I found a picture,” I said, just loud enough that the others could hear. “Not sure it means anything,” 

“Let me see it,” Ororo came and took it from me. “Hmm, don’t those look kind of like the field outside?” Scott took the old clipping from her next. 

“Yeah, seems close enough to be related. Think the boy or the dad is behind all this then?” Scott asked. He flipped the image over and part of the article was visible, but he didn’t bother sharing it with the class.

“That’s an old magazine,” Logan said, not needing to look too close. “I’d wager the son,” 

“Ok, but either way, why would they be making weapons out here if they were plant people?” I asked. “I haven’t seen anything to suggest a weapon is even being made here.” 

“There’s someone coming, hide,” Jean said suddenly. Everyone moved without questioning her. 

Ororo pulled Rouge under the desk I’d been searching, the vines hanging down enough to shield them. Jean and Scott moved to slide into the nearest-to-them conference room, barely squeezing in amongst the plant life there.

I looked around, panic in my chest as I realized I didn’t have anywhere to go. The conference room to my direct left had vines pushing their way out the door. The desk was already hiding two people. I couldn’t help but freeze as I realized there was nowhere for me to hide and I was too big to just slide in somewhere. I’d get caught and blow the whole mission.

Logan caught my eye and came running towards me, which honestly, didn’t help my panic. I opened my mouth to tell him to hide himself, but he was faster than me, covering my mouth with his hand. His other arm came around my middle, holding me flush with his chest, effectively stilling us both and preventing me from making any noise.

I tried to wiggle away from him, confused as to how us standing still was going to prevent us getting caught. Logan just shushed me, and held me tighter as he listened for the threat I was sure he’d be able to hear even though I couldn’t.

Heat bloomed in my cheeks at the nearness of him. He smelled like leather and his last cigar and whatever it was he put in his hair. I heard him sniffing, trying to figure out where exactly the threat was, and probably what it was.

“Come on,” Logan’s voice was low and directly against the shell of my ear and it made me shiver. He took my hand and pulled me with him, back the way we’d come, but only into the previous section hallway so that we could hide behind the open fire doors. One side was off its hinges, leaning heavily against the wall, the other side was only partly open, making a nook between the metal and the wall behind it.

Logan pushed me into the space first so that he was on the outside should anyone or anything come for us. Always the ‘walk on the road side of the sidewalk’ type.

“I could just freeze them maybe,” I offered in a hoarse whisper.

“We don’t know who they are or what they can do,” Logan’s whisper was harsher than mine. “Best let me handle it,” 

Normally, I would have sassed him, but my heart was in my throat as if this was the worst possible game of hide-and-seek. Which, it kind of was.

There was a loud banging and the sound of someone cursing at themselves. I could almost make out their muttering as they made their way down the hall to where the others were hiding. I couldn’t see much through the opening at the hinges, but I could see the edge of the room filled with vines and make out the corner of the desk.

“Hmm, didn’t think you’d make so many leaves down here… brave girl,” A male voice praised one of the vines. I could just barely make out the reflection of his back on the glass window of one of the nearer conference rooms. He wore a white lab coat that was clearly dirty at the bottom like some mad scientist. Working with plants was dirty work, so I guess the look was warranted at least.

The man turned and began walking our way again. I felt Logan’s hand press itself against the soft part of my hip as he reached blindly behind himself to find me. He wanted to know where I was so that if and when this went sideways, he could step in front of me. I knew how he was, always a protector, and me always needing protecting. That was part of why I often stayed in the jet on missions. I didn’t want to get in his, or anyone else’s, way.

I turned to look up at Logan, listening to the mad scientist muttering to himself as he checked another section of vines. I hoped Logan could read my face as I tried to tell him not to worry about me. Logan held my eyes and I gripped onto his arm as the muttering got closer. I watched in fascination as Logan raised his free hand and his claws came out, slowly enough that they hardly made any noise at all. He looked back out the open side of our hiding spot.

I tugged on his sleeve, trying to draw him closer to me, farther from where the door wouldn’t cover him well enough. He cast me a glare that normally would have had me shrinking away from him, but as much as he wanted to protect me, I needed to protect him too. I shook my head at him, begging him to stay put. Begging him with my eyes, please, for once, just stay still.

The muttering suddenly stopped and I held my breath. Just as Logan made to move, I touched the back of my hand to his cheek and he froze, my powers temporarily holding him out of time.

I felt bad for having done it to him as I knew it wasn’t a fun experience. While it did not have any lasting effects physically, the entire time you were frozen, you could not breathe (not that you needed to), you could not move, you could not do anything but perceive the world around you. The longest I’d ever held anyone was just shy of 47 minutes. And I hated that someone had had to experience it for that long just to prove something to Charles, who had requested such a test. 

It had been one of the scientists that Charles had hired on as an intern at the time, a young man who’s name I didn’t remember. I did, however, remember how he told me it was fine, that he could take it. We even did a short session first, just a few minutes. Then he wanted to see just how long I could hold him for. Everyone else involved was so fascinated the whole time, even the scientist who had had to suffer for me to learn about myself. To learn how hard it got to hold someone like that. How I felt them struggle against my teeth.

And the scientists had learned that my powers simply paused the existence of someone, and then when I let them go, they were fine as though no time had passed. Their bodies, perfectly fine.

The mad scientist went on his way down the hall. Muttering about fertilizer and wondering where he’d left his coffee. His lab coat fluttering behind him as he went.

Once I could no longer hear him, I touched Logan’s cheek again and released him from my hold. It was easier to let someone go if I touched them again, but it wasn’t really necessary. My hold would wear out eventually, and Logan was always quicker to flee my hold than most. I figured it was because he struggled more than others.

He took a deep breath, grumbling a bit as he adjusted to having control of his limbs back, and glared at me.

“What the fuck was that for?” He demanded. 

“I didn’t want you to hop out and start clawing people without knowing what’s going on,” I snapped back. “And I could tell you were about a half a second away from doing just that,” 

Logan glared at me some more, but then shook his head, not wanting to admit I was right. 

“Let’s go get the others,” He said, taking my wrist and pulling me back into the hallway. I pulled my arm from him, rubbing the warm spot he left behind. Without the threat of being caught, him touching me at all seemed really uncalled for. Entirely inappropriate.

And something I knew I’d commit to memory for the next time I wondered what human connection felt like on a physical level.

But whatever, he shouldn’t be touching me… but since it was for extenuating circumstances, I supposed I could let it go for now. 

“Thank goodness you two are alright,” Rouge’s accent always got stronger when she was worried. “Did you see where he went?” 

“He was headed for the stairs we took to get down here,” Logan told her. He was hovering near me, and I wondered why I had the feeling he had something he wanted to say to me. But when I looked up at him, question marks in my eyes, he looked away.

He didn’t normally look away from me, and it stung. But now wasn’t really the time to be That Girl about it. If he was going to be mad at me, I could apologize again later and he’d forgive me. He always did.

“Well I say we go thata way,” Scott deadpanned, though he clearly said it like that to get a reaction. He was pointing in the opposite direction of the mad scientist.

“I hate to agree with Cyclops, but,” Logan chimed in.

“He’s right,” Ororo said, brushing a wayward bit of plant matter off Rouge’s back. “And we should hurry to find our information before that man comes back this way,” 

We moved faster now, not stopping until we found what was clearly the only office still being used as such. There were about fifteen different computer monitors stacked up on each other. Some were the big old CRT monitors, flickering dully with lists of data. Most were newer models, LCD screens or what seemed to be old flat screen TVs. Some were bolted to the wall.

Ororo and Rouge went to investigate the computer screens closer, reading the data and trying to figure out what he was doing. Jean joined them after a moment of whispering with Scott. Part of me always felt like she was up to something when she did that, but Logan told me he could always hear what sappy shit they were saying and that I wasn’t missing anything.

I had told Logan once that if he ever saw me get like that about a man he should just kill me. Logan had laughed, and promised me he would.

“Well, looks like we’re dealing with the son,” Logan said. He had gone to dig through a pile of papers and manilla folders. He held out a newspaper and I took it, reading the headline.

“‘Henry Mitchelle, Father of Renowned Botanist Prodigy Malachi Mitchelle, dead at 52. Cause Still a Mystery’.” I said aloud. I skimmed the article. “Sounds like daddy dearest’s greatest accomplishment was having his son. And this says the police should blame Malachi for the death, since Henry had been of solid health until suddenly he, well, wasn’t.” 

“He had heart failure, which had nothing to do with me.” A new voice said from the door that none of us had thought to watch. Everyone turned to him, ready to fight. He held up his hands as if he were surrendering.

“That why you started making weapons?” Logan asked. He was the only one that didn’t look like he was ready to fight, but I knew he was likely to be the first one to get in front of whatever Malachi would surely throw at us.

Malachi scoffed loudly. He was probably 35 or so, his hair needed a brush and probably a good scrub. There were soil smudges on his cheek, his forehead, and on every article of clothing he wore. His hair was mousy brown and his eyes were a terrifyingly bright shade of green.

“You think I make weapons?” Malachi sounded like we had just accused him of trying to water a fake plant. “The reason I’m out here in the middle of nowhere is so that everyone and their uncle will stop asking me to make them weapons. I suppose that’s why you’re here, you all look official.” His tone conveyed his annoyance with the idea of “official” anything. 

“We’re not government,” Scott offered. Malachi stepped into the room and took the newspaper out of my hand. He ignored Scott entirely.

“My dad always told me that I was so gifted, that I could change the world. But he also wanted the money, so he sold me off to whoever wanted my plants for the highest price.”

“I’m sorry he was like that,” I said, empathetic. I knew far too many people, fathers or otherwise, that likely would have done the same. “You deserved better,” 

“I actually had ‘better’ too, my mother.” Malachi’s face softened with the memory of her. “But she passed as well, someone told me once it was careless to have lost both parents,” 

“Are the flowers for your mother?” Ororo’s voice came from behind me. Malachi’s neon eyes turned to her.

“Originally, yes, and she loved them. I call them Feel Good Flowers because they helped the body release happy chemicals,” He smiled so softly at the memory. I wondered how this man could be dangerous. He mostly seemed to be sad, but content enough to keep living.

“I take it dad wasn’t thrilled with your Happy Flowers,” Scott said. He was standing in front of Jean and Rouge, who were both still trying to investigate while we held Malachi’s attention.

“They were deemed ‘inefficient, ineffective, and useless’ so… no, my father wasn’t exactly proud of them. Couldn’t make him money, couldn’t bring back the dead,” 

“Sounds like a jerk,” Scott’s attempt to hold Malachi’s attention was weak, but worked well enough.

“It was a blessing when he died,” Malachi agreed. “Even if they tried to blame me for it,” 

“Nice sob story, bub,” Logan said, obviously bored with this conversation. “So what are you doing out here then?” I felt my gut twist with the way Malachi’s eyes turned to Logan. Logan clearly felt the shift too because he was suddenly a lot less nonchalant about this whole thing.

“Trying to be left alone,” Malachi’s voice grew echoey as he snarled the words. 

“We were told there were weapons being made here, that’s why we’re here…” Ororo tried to cut in. Normally, her voice was soothing and cut the tension. I’d seen her talk down several potentially dangerous mutants before, which was also why she made an incredible vice principal at the school. 

But this time she’d picked an unfortunate choice of words.

Malachi’s eyes were fully glowing suddenly, just like he was a halloween decoration with those stupid LED eyeballs. A loud crash came from behind us and the wall broke in, vines shooting through. 

A flash of Cyclop’s eye bolts cut through most of them. Another crash and this time, the ceiling came down under the weight of thick plant life. There was shouting and I reached forward, trying to grab Malachi. I figured I could freeze him and it would hopefully stop the vines. 

But Logan was closer, and saw my play, so he stepped between us, swinging claws at the scientist’s face.

“Cut the crap, asshole,” Logan snarled as Malachi dodged him. “We were playing nice,” 

“You came in here to disturb me,” Malachi moved away from Logan easily as vines tangled his legs. Logan fell to the ground with a grunt, but was able to slice the vines off in one easy swing. 

“If you’re out here killing people with plants, yeah!” I shouted after him. I was out in the hallway now, both trying to be out of the way, and block Malachi from escaping towards the stairs. Malachi laughed. 

“The only people my plants have killed are the ones who came in here looking for weapons,” His face, which had been so normal before, was now a twisted snarl. “Care to be next?” The skin of his lips, and the waterline around his eyes, both seemed to have darkened to a deep green. His eyes still glowed that eerie LED green that was unsettlingly fake, but only because I knew he wasn’t made of plastic. 

“How about we don’t kill anyone?” I offered. I eyed the vines that were now crawling on the floor towards me. They curled up on themselves when they got cut down the line. I saw Logan move away from the spot the vines ended, chasing after Malachi.

“Y/N, take Storm and Rouge back to the jet, we’ll handle him,” Jean said, pushing Rouge in my direction. 

“What? We can help!” Rouge snapped.

“We can cover that end of the building while Logan deals with Malachi,” Ororo’s soothing voice came out again and Rouge bristled at it. But also, Ororo had a point. Plus, I could work on getting the jet ready to go, and it would keep Rouge, who was still not really an official XMan, out of harm's way.

“I’ll keep the seats warm,” I relented easily enough, even though the roar I heard down the hall made my anxiety spike. Logan was fighting hard, and the building shook every time he took a hit. “Y’all best go get Logan in check before they collapse the whole building,” Another crash and Jean winced, knowing it was just a matter of time before I was right. 

“We’ll go get him,” One could never see Scott’s eyes, but you could sure hear how hard he rolled them whenever Logan was up to his…shenanigans.

I grabbed Rouge’s arm and turned her towards the exit, cutting her off in the middle of arguing with Ororo about how the fight was being broken up.

“Trust me, no one’s going to get to fight much, you aren’t missing anything,” I told her. She brushed me off with a huff. 

“I know, but I hate feeling like I’m being sidelined just because I’m a newbie,” 

“I’ve been doing this for ages, and I get sidelined more often than not,” I said, a poor attempt to sooth her ruffled feathers. “There are worse things than being needed elsewhere,” 

Rouge groaned because she knew I was right.

We made pretty good time getting back to the first floor. As soon as we saw natural light again, we all sort of sighed in relief. I think we were all a bit nervous about getting buried alive and didn’t want to admit it. 

The floor behind us shook as vines shot up through it, a wave in the ocean of speckled beige. When they receded Logan’s body was lying face up and groaning on the old tiles.

“You know what? Fuck this guy,” Logan muttered as he hauled himself to his feet. A blast from Scott cut through the same hole Logan had just popped out of. “Watch it Summers!” 

“Come on,” Ororo grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the fighting again. Logan looked up and our eyes met for a brief second. I knew he’d be ok, but I hated how many hits he always seemed to have to take first. As I turned to look where I was going, I swear I saw him wink at me.

Even in the middle of a fight he found time to tease me. He really was a bully at the worst times. I told myself I didn’t care if it made my chest warm to see him so at ease in a fight.

Plus, I sometimes wondered if he liked getting hit.

“Can’t go that way!” Rouge’s voice cut into my thoughts as a mass of vines covered the front entrance.

“I thought he wanted us to leave?” I groaned. The vines tangled into each other and seemed to solidify into a new wall. “You got anything Miss Storm?” I asked. She thought for a moment.

“I can’t do anything inside the building with all the windows blocked.” Ororo lamented.

“Logan!” Rouge’s voice shouted behind us. “We can’t get out!” 

“He’s a little busy,” I rolled my eyes looking for something to help us. There were some more old chairs, but that didn’t really seem useful at the moment.

“Never too busy for you,” Logan’s voice at my shoulder made me jump. He’d come running when Rouge shouted but it always surprised me how fast he was when he wanted to be.

“Think you can open the doors for us?” I asked him, pretending he wasn’t smiling at me. Pretending he didn’t look amazing fresh from getting shoved through who knows how many walls (and also the floor) of the main office.

“One weed wacker, coming up,” Logan unsheathed his claws with a smirk and I rolled my eyes at his joke wondering how long he’d been working on that one.

Logan chopped through one layer of vines, just for it to be replaced by another. He growled and went after it with both hands, but still, each vine he cut was replaced by another. 

The floor shook and jostled me into the useless metal chair pile that occupied the space behind me. The noise was far more obnoxious than the pain it caused me. Rouge cursed as she also lost her footing and landed against the vine wall. Luckily, the vines didn’t seem to care since she wasn’t trying to prune them.

“You good, sweetheart?” Logan called over his shoulder, still slicing at the wall.

“I’m fine,” I snapped, pulling myself back to my feet. It was hard to stand up again because the chairs shifted and I couldn’t get a good spot to push myself up from. Plus, if I were honest, I had landed on something pokey that jabbed me in the ribs hard enough to make breathing hard for a second, but no one needed to know that. They’d just worry about me and we didn’t have the time for that.

“Hurry!” Ororo shouted at Logan.

“You wanna try it?” Logan snapped back angrily. Ororo rolled her eyes at him.

“Umm, guys?” I swallowed hard as I watched a mass of plants swell up through the hole in the office floor. “That doesn’t look good,” 

“Where are Jean and Scott?” Rouge asked.

“Want your friends back?” The voice sounded like three or four of Malachi all speaking at once. I felt my stomach drop. Wherever his mutations were made him look like a monster now. All glowing bits and the wrong colors. “Have them back!” 

Suddenly another couple of vines burst through the floor and flung two bodies at us. They both slid to a stop in front of me and Ororo. 

“Scott! Jean!” Ororo cried out. They both got to their feet and dusted themselves off.

“Hey guys, the elevator here sucks,” Scott coughed. Jean smacked his arm. “What?” 

“We need to get out of here,” Jean told him as though that wasn’t already obvious. 

“Trying to, but this wall is really persistent,” Logan grumbled.

“The vines are trying to protect him,” Jean said. “Which means they’ll only let him through,” 

“And that helps us… how exactly?” I demanded, watching as Malachi and his vines moved closer. If he moved slowly to toy with us or to give us time to realize how futile fleeing turned out to be, I didn’t know. I was more confused as to how things had gone so far south so fast. Malachi had seemed reasonable enough…right until he started glowing.

“Like this,” Jean held up her hands and Malachi’s advance froze. “Logan?” Jean asked in the same tone of voice she’d use for the most mundane requests.

“Yeah?” He sounded skeptical of this whole situation. 

“Go stand by the girls please,” Jean nodded towards Ororo, Rouge, and I. Logan raised an eyebrow but took the three steps he needed to clear the doorway. Jean turned and thrust her arms out.

With a multilayered scream, Malachi and his chunk of vines blasted their way through the blockaded door. 

I peered through the opening long enough to assess that Malachi was down for at least a few moments, and before anyone else said anything, I moved to push Ororo and Rouge, the closest two to me still, out the door.

“Time to go!” I shouted. The others all agreed and the six of us bolted out into the afternoon sun, back out into the impossible field of flowers. 

We could hear Malachai groaning as we hurried past. Maybe we should have checked on him, or arrested him, or something? But we were all too ready to be back on the jet. We could come back for him another day, much more prepared for him.

“Why do I always park so far away?” I complained as we moved through the field. Everyone else was what felt like miles ahead of me and I could distinctly hear Malachi and his vines moving behind us. I risked looking over my shoulder and almost instantly tripped over my feet and crash landed into an entire bush of flowers. 

I heard the stems break under my body and something in me lamented that I’d killed such a beautiful plant. But then I noticed why I had actually tripped. The vines were under the ground now, wiggling their way between the plants so as to not disturb them.

“Y/N!” Someone shouted my name and it felt so far away. The flowers that lay crushed on the ground beneath me looked like white chrysanthemums, each flowerhead the size of my fist, only they had red stamin sticking out of them. They were so beautiful, but also alien to me.

“Just go!” I shouted back, getting to my feet. “The vines are underground!” I added. I noticed then that the mound of vines that had held Malachi had disappeared. 

And there Malachi stood where we’d left him, still as a statue, as a breeze rushed through. The wind kicked up dust from around what might have been a million different flowers. I felt the fine powder get whipped against my face and closed my eyes against what felt like the tiniest grains of sand. I coughed, knowing it was surely in my lungs too. 

When I opened my eyes and looked at Malachi standing there in the distance, he was tousled and dirty, but also looked almost exactly the same as when we first saw him. He didn’t move to follow or attack us anymore.

And his eyes were no longer glowing as he stared blankly after us.

I caught up with the others just as they got the jet’s door open. It always took such a terribly long time to let the ramp down when we closed it, which was why we usually left it open for a quicker getaway. But since no one was sitting with our only ride home, we decided to be more careful and close it for once.

“Move, move, move,” Logan’s voice was loud as he ushered everyone on board. I noticed that the front of his uniform had the same fine dust that had pelted me in the face after I’d tripped. I probably wouldn’t have noticed had it not been for the fact that Jean had left a barely there handprint in the powder on his chest when she touched him as she climbed on board the ship.

It always annoyed me when she did that to him. Jean had literally married Scott less than six months ago and yet she still touched Logan like they were maybe more than friends. Not that it was any of my business, but leave the poor man alone.

Nevermind the green thing in me that wished I was allowed to touch his chest like that.

Scott was flipping switches to turn on the jet as I crested the ramp. I counted that we had everyone on board and hit the button to close up the hatch again.

“Well, that wasn’t great,” I complained, moving to the captain’s chair and shooing Scott from the controls. When I sat down I noticed that my chest felt funny, like I’d been holding my breath too long. And I was really warm, like maybe I was getting a fever.

“Scott?” Jean’s voice was worried and of course, her husband came running to her. I tried to tune them out while I finished the sequences to get us fully airborne. 

“Something’s off, something doesn’t feel right,” Jean was almost babbling. I had to focus on getting us safely into the clouds, so I didn’t notice the change things took until I heard Logan swear.

“What the fuck you two?” His anger made me turn in time to see Jean straddling Scott’s lap while she kissed him. Clearly with tongue. 

“I… I need you,” Jean stammered into Scott’s throat. Scott seemed to be under the influence of whatever nonsense had its hold on her too, as he was not trying to stop her from kissing him, nor from grinding down on his lap. When she moved up, his suit was clearly struggling to contain whatever it was he kept in his pants. 

“Guys!” I snapped.

“Can’t…stop,” Scott panted. “Need you,” The second part was directed at Jean. I scoffed out loud and turned back to the controls because I really needed to get us to the altitude to use the autopilot. It took all of two minutes max, but with the idea of what was happening behind me fresh and spiky in my mind, it made it feel like a hell of a lot longer.

And my head was feeling strange, like maybe I was getting a migraine or something.

I could hear a scuffle and some moaning as Logan tried to break apart the lovebirds. 

“Don’t make me shoot you,” Scott’s voice was low and a kind of menacing that I didn’t know he was capable of. 

“You wouldn’t risk bringing this entire jet down just to get your rocks off,” Logan was clearly struggling with someone else while he snapped at Scott. 

“MMm,” Jean’s voice moaned. “Logan,” I stood then and punched the button for auto pilot with my entire fist.

“What the actual fuck is going on back there?” I demanded turning to face them. Jean was trying to rub herself on Logan, begging for any sort of friction while he did his best to keep her at arms length. I felt a sharp hit of anger and jealousy ricochet around my ribs. It was stronger than any such similar feelings I’d had before and I was confused as to why I suddenly wanted to grab Logan and pull him behind me.

Or under me.

Shaking that thought from my head, I tried to ignore the heat on my face.

“Need Scott,” Jean said, sounding like she’d forgotten what syllables were. “Or Logan,” she purred his name in a way that made me want to jump out the window. Logan shoved her back at Scott, who happily caught her.

“Both of you knock it off,” Logan reprimanded them as though they were children. But when he turned to look at me, it was obvious that part of the reason he’d shoved Jean off was because whatever it was that had affected them was doing something to him too. “Fuck,” The curse was quieter and more to himself as he shivered.

“Is it actually getting really hot in here?” Rouge’s voice was shaky as she asked. 

“I think we were drugged,” Ororo managed. She had a light sheen of sweat forming along her brow as she watched Scott and Jean making out like teenagers. Her eyes were stuck to them as though looking away would be a crime.

“How? When?” Logan snapped. He looked a bit twitchy, standing too close to the lovebirds. “You two need to fucking stop,” Irritated both for good reason, and for the uncomfortable pressure that was forming in his chest.

“Storm?” Rouge questioned as Ororo put her hand on her thigh, far higher up than was normal for either of them.

“Marie, since when do you smell so nice?” 

“Ok, I am not dealing with this,” I said, feeling a weird mix of fear, anxiety, and heat blooming in my chest. “Everyone, it’s nap time,” I decided all at once. I had no idea if I could hold more than one person at a time, but if ever there was a need to…

“You taste sweeter than sugar, honey,” I felt the blood rush to my ears and to my stomach as I registered the Ororo and Rouge had just kissed. I had to physically push Logan out of my way so I could make a direct path to the original problem… Jean and Scott, who were about three seconds from peeling off their suits.

I grabbed each of them by the back of their neck, as if scruffing a misbehaving pair of puppies, and pulled them apart. They both looked up at me in shock for a moment before falling back together, limp and frozen in time.

“Secure them in their seats please,” I commanded Logan as I made my way over to Ororo and Rouge. Logan finally moved to do as I asked and I wondered if he was feeling the same wobbly feeling I was as I stopped in front of the next pair of us.

“Yes ma’am,” Logan purred and I ignored that wave of want that his graveled voice pulled through me.

Ororo and Rouge at least appeared to be trying not to cause a scene, but they were eyefucking quite openly. And their hands were wandering.

“It hurts in my chest,” Ororo told me as I pulled her hand off Rouge’s thigh. Rouge whimpered at the loss, but had steeled herself for at least the moment. “Like I need to touch her or I’ll die,” she sounded so scared. I broke my heart because I didn’t know what was going on and so I couldn’t help her. Or my other friends.

“We’ll get you home and Hank will know what to do,” I assured her. The best I could think of.

She buckled herself into her seat as Rouge reached for her arm, begging for contact again. I pressed my fingers against Ororo’s cheek and her eyes went hazy and she went limp, her seatbelts holding her upright.

I had never figured out why some people froze more solidly than others. Logan always seemed to keep his feet when frozen, but almost everyone else turned into noodles. I turned to Rouge who was looking at Ororo with a sort of pained look that I couldn’t place. It was somewhere near lust, of course, but there was something that spoke of fear in it too. I wondered if either of them had lusted for a woman before.

“I promise, I’ll release y’all as soon as I can, so please don’t fight me,” I told her. I wasn’t particularly southern, but y’all was something I’d picked up from someone and never managed to put back down. I touched her face carefully and she laid back in her seat, her hand still resting on Ororo’s arm.

“How are you so calm?” Logan demanded through clenched teeth. I could feel my heart beating at a higher rate than normal, but if Logan thought I was calm, he didn’t realize that. Which was good, he didn’t need to worry about me.

Also alarming because usually he could tell when someone’s heart was racing (and he’d teased me about it more than once).

“I was hoping you weren’t being affected,” I groaned. My head felt full of cotton, like everything was in a soft focus and there was tea waiting for me when I sat down, that kind of feeling. 

“All I can smell is them,” He growled, taking a step towards me.

“Sit down and buckle up,” I told him, my voice a bit shaky. There was a terrible ache between my thighs, like someone had scooped out my insides and were about to carve me like a pumpkin.

Logan stepped closer and for a second I thought he was going to listen. If I had them all held, maybe it would be easier. Maybe I could focus on holding them still instead of the fact I really wanted to know if Logan’s tongue tasted like cigars or not.

I bet it did.

“I want to smell you,” Logan’s pupils were blown beautifully wide. “And only you,” he was staring down at me like I was the only thing in the entire universe. I wished it was true, that he felt that way about me. But I knew it was whatever we’d been covered with. I knew it wasn’t real.

“Sit down,” My voice was weaker than I wanted it to be.

“Why can’t I smell you?” He was almost just talking to himself, annoyed that he could smell everyone else’s arousal over mine.

I walked backwards towards the captain’s and copilot's chair, pleased that Logan followed. But I wasn’t quick enough and he managed to get his hands on my hips. I brought my hands up between us, pushing him away.

But he was always so much stronger than me, so I struggled to get any space between us. Besides, as soon as he was in my space, something in me really wanted to drown in him instead. Consequences be damned.

“If I drop you here, I can’t lift your heavy… heavy ass off the floor,” I panted as he leaned down to inhale deeply at my throat. I surprised myself at the whimper that left me when he placed the first open mouth kiss at the only skin exposed on my neck over my suit.

“Fuck,” He moaned so low in his chest I could feel it vibrate in mine. “Let me just… just touch you for a second,” 

“Logan, it’s not real,” I told him. It didn’t ease the ache in my gut but it helped keep my mind clear. Plus there were four different strings already pulling my brain tight. I was wildly, uncomfortably aroused, but I wasn’t about to lose control just because the man I had a crush on was kissing my neck.

When did he unzip the top of my suit to get to more skin?

“Please,” He moaned against my throat again. “Just one kiss, then I’ll behave, promise.” 

“I don’t believe you,” I murmured, trying desperately to push him away. But it felt so nice to have him like this. It was something I’d thought about far more times than I’d ever admit to anyone. And my hand was in his hair.

But it wasn’t real, he didn’t really want me. 

Why would he? 

“Y/N,” Logan groaned as his hands moved to find my chest. I gasped at the sensation of his warm hand covering one of my breasts. I wanted so badly to surrender to the feeling, to let him touch and feel and devour me whole.

But I knew it wasn’t real, and that hurt differently enough that I finally got my last two working brain cells together to push him off.

“Fuck, Logan, sit your punkass down,” I snapped, feeling tears in my throat. It would be so much easier to give in. To at least feel something good for once. To finally figure out what it would feel like to be with him.

But it wasn’t real, wasn’t real, wasn’t real… and I knew I would hate myself when it was over if I gave in now.

Logan gave me a sassy smirk, watching me breathing hard as a reaction to him and what he’d done. 

“Don’t you feel it too?” 

“I don’t feel anything,” I lied. The snap of my words seemed to surprise him, but only deterred him long enough for me to sit myself in the Captain’s chair and buckle in. “Now, don’t touch me,” I commanded him. I knew if he touched me too much I’d give in. That at some point, the effects would overwhelm me too. Best to keep him away.

“No,” He growled. “Wanna smell you, wanna touch you, wanna fuck you,” His eyes were so hazy and it made my center pulse with need and that empty, endless ache. But the endless ache was an old friend, I’d sat with her before. I could sit with her now too.

“I need to call the mansion,” I told him. 

Maybe ignoring him would help keep him at bay. I knew it wouldn’t. Even without the nonsense going on, he’d never been a particularly good listener unless he wanted to be. 

And he sure didn’t want to be right now. 

“Don’t interrupt or I’ll not let you smell me ever again,” I told him. This seemed to work better as he sat cross legged next to me on the floor, perked up like a dog waiting for a bone after having done a trick. I felt a wave of lust wash over me at his eagerness to please me. My core ached, knowing he’d gladly lap me up for his reward.

“Did you find it?” Charle’s voice over the radio should have been a relief but it made me angry because it wasn’t the right voice. But I bit back my annoyance and tried to respond coherently.

“We’re flying back.” My voice was choppy as I took too many breaths. “I have everyone but Logan frozen, we…we were dosed with something,” 

“Y/N,” Logan grumbled impatiently.

“What’s happening?” 

“Umm…” I suddenly was too embarrassed to say what was going on. 

“Y/N? Is everyone alright?” The alarm in Charles’ voice snapped my brain cells together with enough force I was able to manage one sentence.

“They’re trying to fuck each other,”

“Oh.” The embarrassment would have killed me had Logan not gotten impatient and started sniffing along my leg, pressing open mouth kisses along the seams of my pants. I swatted at him, trying to get him to knock it off. He just smirked and kept pressing, glad to at least have my hand in his hair.

“I have them frozen, but Logan…” My voice got caught in my throat as Logan moved to bury his face in my hip, nuzzling and smelling his way up my ribs until his face was in my armpit. “Jesus fuck, knock it off,” I whined like a kid who was late for nap time. All upset and no anger. I felt tears in my eyes and in my throat because this was all simply Too Much. 

“Are you safe to get everyone home?” Charles redirected. I grabbed Logan’s face and glowered at him.

“Take a nap,” I told him and tried to snag him in my powers. It worked but he was frozen with an arm across my lap and his face trying to find a way into my suit. “Sorry, I had to freeze Logan too, but he’s harder to hold onto.” I tried to keep my words even. But I could feel all five of them now, like trying to hold onto the strings of too many balloons but only with my teeth. 

“Y/N, can you fly everyone home?” 

“Yeah, I think so. Best prepare them for us, tell Hank it was Malachi Mitchelle, maybe that’ll help.” Logan’s string slipped in my mental grip and he growled as he pulled himself free.

“Gotta go,” Logan said loud enough for Charles to hear as he sat up on his knees to turn off the radio connection. “Now, you,” His eyes were hungry and his gaze made my insides twist with want.

“Logan, please just stop,” I begged. I was specifically trying not to feel anything for him, to not let him do something he’d regret later. I knew he didn’t want this. At the moment, I’m not sure any of us really did.

“No,” He challenged me. Logan’s hands traced my body, one moved around to the inside of my thigh and inched its way closer to my center. He held my eyes, daring me to tell him I didn’t want this.

But this wasn’t about what I wanted.

“It’s not real, you don’t want this,” I felt those tears again, warm in my throat and stinging behind my eyes. He looked up at me and brushed the tears from one of my cheeks with his thumb.

“No, I do want this… I’m always gonna… never going to stop,” He was breathing heavily but smirking. My center pulsed and squeezed around nothing because dammit all if that wasn’t exactly what I wanted to hear.

Logan’s smirk got lost when he buried his face into the crease made by my leg and hip. He breathed in the scent of me again and the moan that escaped him had my heart ricocheting in my chest. 

“Never going to get enough of the smell of you.” I found my hands in his hair, fingers intertwined in his tuffs as if I had the strength to pull him away from my lap.

“Why?” I asked more as a general question, ‘why is this happening to me?’ or ‘why do I bother trying to be good?’ or maybe even a bit of ‘why would you say that to me?’

“Cuz I love you,” Logan murmured against my stomach. I looked down at him, that ache in my pelvis shimming at the closeness of him. But the ache in my chest? That longing for something real? It burned brighter. I knew he wasn’t trying to tease me this time and somehow that made it worse. 

While influenced he probably thought he was telling the truth.

I couldn’t take it when I knew the fall would come when this madness passed. The look in his eyes when he realized ‘oh god, what have I done?’.

I felt tears in my throat again. I wished what he said was true, that his ardent behavior was stemming from somewhere real and true. But it wasn’t.

It simply wasn’t.

I grabbed his face in one hand, the other still in his hair, and squeezed his cheeks together while he looked at me like he never wanted to look at anything else.

“Go the fuck to sleep, you petulant child,” I ground out, all the anger in me aimed at myself and the fact that I had to deny myself this wonderful thing. This thing my body craved.

This time, Logan’s eyes went hazy and blank, his jaw went slack, and his limbs all buckled under him. I finally had him wound tight enough to hold. 

But now I had to hold him, and the other four, for the next 43 and half minutes. Which was the expected time remaining, according to the flight data that flashed on one of the panels. I had no idea if I could hold on to everyone that long, especially Logan who was too good at shaking off my powers.

[Masterlist]

[Logan Masterlist]

Likes/comments/reblogs directly correlate to how much fanfiction/fanart you see ;)

[fallbhind]

imagine young!reader crying while riding old man!logan, genuinely he didn't know what to do because he'd never been with someone younger, like (18-20s not a minor) so he's just wiping tears as he helps guide you with his free hand.

old man!logan was always careful when it came to you, you were just a gently little flower waiting to bloom into something more, but sometimes he just couldn't avoid hurting you. you were young and just so sensitive. times like now, as you bounced up and down on his cock, tears ebbing at your waterline as you grasped at his feeling the need to be closer as tears streamed down your cheek. one of his hands abandoned your hips, to wipe away the tears, "what's wrong?" he whispered gently, with of a hint teasing betraying his worriedness. sometimes (everytime) you started to cry, he sought opportunity to tease you. logan couldn't help but to. "what if—" you hitched your breath as he grabbed your hips, bringing you to a still as you hiccuped, "—what if you leave me for someone better?" like usual, it was always something silly, he would never leave you. if he left you, the world would chew you like gum 'n spit you back out with no hesitation, and he could never let that happen. ever.

[logansdoll]

all the time in the world

part two of "37"

CW: heavily suggestive, profanity, fluffy fluff, takes place during the events of Days Future Past, Logan's down bad for you, you're down bad for him, it's a whole thing, etc.

Logan groaned as he felt something stir beside him, the sun spilling in through the windows and bathing the room in golden light.

'The hell...'

His power had already come into affect, the metal bars Magneto impaled him with, along with the water in his drowning lungs, completely gone.

Sitting up, he rested a hand on his side of his head.

And that's when it all came back to him.

Hank.

Charles.

Mystique.

With a roar, Logan shot out of bed, claws drawn and chest heaving as he snapped his head around, looking for the direction of the fight.

But instead, he found a bedroom, which had plants growing from every nook and cranny, the flowers blooming awake along with another in the room.

"Baby?" your soft voice broke through his frenzy, calming him almost instantly.

Quickly, Logan turned around, shoulders sinking as he caught sight of you sliding out of bed, still wearing the same silky robe.

Of course, it looked a little more worn, but it still did its job, and made you look just as beautiful as the day he left.

"(n/n)?"

You looked exactly the same, save for the few gray streaks in your hair, and now had the air of a woman seasoned in life's trials and tribulations, yet still glowing with youth.

It reminded him of how astronomically lucky he was that you even gave him the time of day—past, present, or otherwise.

As you drew closer, slowly, his claws retracted, and he watched you approach with eyes that made it seem like he was seeing you for the first time.

"You alright?" you asked, hands cupping his cheeks and smoothing over his cheekbones, before sliding down to rest over his chest. "You haven't had one this bad in a long time..."

Eyes flicking up to his face, your worries increased tenfold to see no change in his expression.

The man was just staring at you.

"Honey, is everything okay—"

He didn't even let you finish the sentence before he grabbed you by the waist, pulling you flush against him and nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

And, despite the initial shock, you eased into him, arms finding home around his neck as you pulled him closer, resting your head against his pounding heartbeat.

"While I'm loving all this early morning attention... you're starting to scare me," you chuckled, dryly, lifting your head to look up at him. "Wanna tell me what's goin' on?"

He took in a deep, slow breath, trying to find the words.

"Remember that day in 1973..." he started in a low voice, one hand squeezing your hip, "When I told you to wait until I find my way back..."

You swallowed thickly, biting back a question as you nodded in confirmation.

He took a moment, scanning your face for any sort of reluctance, happy to find none.

"Well... I found it..."

His eyes landed on yours, and the way you looked up at him made his chest roar.

You weren't making this easy for him.

He was already holding himself back on a thread of sanity, and now he had to deal with the fact that you looked like a goddamn supermodel, and smelled like cocoa butter and vanilla.

Your curves were curvier, your hips were dippier, and you now had an extra ounce of unspoken confidence that could bring any man to his knees.

Him included.

Your hands found his face, holding him like he was the most precious thing in the world.

Because he was to you, and now he all parts of him were back in your arms.

You chuckled, eyes misty as you smiled up at him, resting your forehead against his.

"Looks like my husband's whole again."

Record scratch.

"Husband?" he asked, eyes widening as he crackled a small smile.

You nodded, proudly holding up your hand to show off the gold wedding band sitting pretty on your ring finger.

"Mhmm," you hummed, amused by his shocked expression. "You put a ring on it fifteen years ago today... so don't think I'm gonna let you run out on me again."

He chuckled, fingers tucking under your chin and softly caressing your jaw.

"Wouldn't dream of it, doll."

Without a moment's hesitation, he pressed his lips against yours, hard, unloading well over fifty year's worth of pining.

You sank into it almost immediately, matching his fervor as you rested your hands on his chest, grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him even closer.

The two of you moved together in perfect sync, fitting each other like puzzle pieces, as you kept up with his rhythm.

He grasped you by the small of your back, pressing you further into him and giving your hips a little squeeze, earning a quiet squeak.

Close wasn't close enough.

He wanted you even closer than that.

He wanted you so much, every part of him in contact with you want on fire.

But, alas, you two were human (not really), and air would be needed eventually.

The two of you separated with a gasp, cheeks flushed and foreheads resting against each other.

"I don't think you know how long I've been waitin' to do that," he smirked, catching his breath.

You smiled, sliding your hands up from his chest to his shoulders.

"Come show me," you purred, staring at him with those sparkling, (e/c) eyes of yours.

'Goddamn...'

He leaned in closer, about to say something else when, of course, he was interrupted.

"Hey, you two better be up and ready," Scott's voice cut through the air, the two of you quietly groaning at the intervention. "You both have got classes in five minutes."

You and Logan separated, albeit reluctantly, straightening yourselves out a bit.

"I'm a teacher now?" he asked, raising a brow.

"Self defense," you answered, teasingly, "Some things never change."

Suddenly, he took your hand in his, holding it firmly as a serious look came over his face.

"I'm gonna talk to the professor. See if he can get my memories back," he stated, reassuringly. "I don't want you to feel like we have to start from scratch... or our years have gone to waste."

That took you by surprise.

"Is that what you think?" you asked, concerned, as you turned to him. "Baby, I could care less whether you remember or not. It would be nice, but it would never make me believe that the years we've spent together have gone to waste."

You smiled, your hand sliding up to cup his cheek.

"Through thick and thin, it's you and me, Logan... If you're lost, I'll find you. If you forget, I'll remind you... we have all the time in the world."

Goddamnit.

You were getting him choked up.

Misty eyed, he pulled you closer, looking down at you like you were the only damn thing in the entire universe.

"What did I do to deserve you?" he smiled, thankfully.

You shrugged, teasingly, placing a quick peck on his cheek before heading toward your shared bathroom.

"Beats me."

[marvelwitchergilmore]

A Good Man

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> Logan Howlett is a good man. At least, that's what you keep telling him.

Disclaimer: 18+ MDNI. Smut. Steam (figuratively and literally), swearing. Logan is the good guy and you prove it to him. Fluff, cuteness, Logan in a flower crown, angst, happy ending, mentions of Halloween and Christmas. Descriptions of period pains, The Addams Family reruns. Again, MDNI. Not Proof Read.

For as long as you had known Logan, you had known he was a good man. 

It didn’t matter what other people said about him, or what he even said about himself. To you, he would always be a good man. 

And that was something you always tried to remind him of. 

The first time it happened, it had just rolled off the tongue. Of course, you knew you meant it and at the time, you didn’t notice the way Logan’s eyes told you the sad truth that he didn’t believe you. 

It had been one early October morning. You had spent most of the night staying up to cut out some felt and cardboard shapes for your classroom to decorate not only for the fall season but also for Halloween. 

You didn’t expect anyone else to be awake that early so when Logan walked into your classroom just ten minutes after you had returned back to your seat on the floor, practically drowning in Halloween cut-outs. 

“Here.”

Holding down the coffee holder, you were presented with the second cup in the holder, your name written on the side in Logan’s handwriting. 

Still waking up from three and a half hours sleep, you looked up a little shocked. But calmed the minute you saw his own tired smile looking back at you. “Go on.”

Taking the coffee cup from the holder, you brought it close to you, your hands enveloping the hot surface. One sniff and you knew what it was instantly. 

“Oh, my god. You are a saint, Logan.”

Logan couldn’t fully look at you, feeling a little heat on his cheeks. “Yeah, well…don’t mention it.”

He brought his own coffee to his lips as he placed the empty holder onto a nearby desk before walking around you and your sea of Halloween, placing one hand in his pocket as he nursed his coffee. 

“What are you doing?”

You looked around yourself after taking a sip of your drink. It was perfect. 

“Decorating.”

“Aren’t they meant to be on the walls instead of the floor?”

You nodded. “They will be…if I can get them finished in time.”

Logan took a scope of the decorations before taking off his leather jacket, folding it and throwing it over your desk chair. 

“What-What are you doing?”

Logan placed down his coffee on your desk before removing his second plaid shirt. “Helping. Here, you’re cold.”

Logan draped his shirt over your shoulders and you were instantly hit with his warmth and his scent that was still prominent on his jacket. 

“Thank you.”

Putting your arms through, you fastened a couple of buttons. Meanwhile, Logan pushed some of the decorations aside and sat adjacent to you. 

First he picked up an unorganised pile of themed worksheets, flipping through a couple of them. Tapping them down, you pulled your coffee away from your lips. “The paper cutter is-”

As you pointed to the desk behind him, Logan’s claws came out and he just shot you a smirk before swiping down the edges. You pulled back, eyes a little wider. “Or you could just do that.”

Logan let out a small chuckle before doing the same to the other three edges. 

For the smaller cut-outs, he did use the pair of scissors you gave him. 

“How did you know I was awake?” You asked Logan after a few minutes. 

“I didn’t. But I knew you had a late night. Figured coffee couldn’t hurt.”

You smiled, watching where your scissors were slowly going round the corners of the apple tree you were cutting. “You’re a good man, Logan. Not many people would be up this early and bring me coffee.”

A few hours later, everything was finished being cut and Logan leaned back on his hands as he sat on the floor. You were still in his shirt. Was it wrong for him to be admiring how better you looked in his clothes than he did?

“What do you think?”

Logan came back down to earth. “What?”

You rolled your eyes and laughed. “Come and help me.”

Logan got to his feet, dusting off his jeans before walking behind you. “Pass me that?”

Logan did so and stood at the bottom of the ladder, holding it steady. 

It wasn’t long before he himself was up another set of ladders, taking your instructions for how high to hold the bunting. 

“Little further.”

“Any higher and it’ll be in the ceiling.”

You laughed. “Okay, that's perfect.”

By the end of the day, everything was finished and set up ready for a new week. And every time you looked around your classroom and saw the identical looks of wonder and excitement in the kids' eyes, proved that you were right. 

Logan Howlett was a good man. 

Two weeks later, a knock came to your door. 

“Rogue? Is everything okay?”

She shook her head. “Sorta. Freya won’t let anyone brush her hair. She keeps saying it’s hurting her head.”

“Okay, I’m coming. Have you tried detangler spray?”

Rogue shook her head. “She won’t let anyone near her. It already took three of us to get her to shower.”

Finally getting to Rogue’s room, you knocked on the door. “Hey, Freya. What’s going on?”

“It really hurts.”

Rogue knelt beside you, in front of Freya. “Where does it hurt?”

Freya touched her head. “Here. It pulls really tight.”

“Okay.” You looked around. “Would it be okay if I put some magic spray on?”

“Magic spray?”

You nodded, nudging Rogue. Shuffling over, she grabbed the bottle from her desktop before handing it to you.  

“What does it do?”

“Well,” you looked for the nozzle before turning it around and gently picking up the ends of her hair to spray it. “It helps the brush run smoothly down-”

Freya started to panic. “No, no. No. No brush.”

“Freya-”

“What’s going on?”

From the door, Logan was standing leaning against its frame. 

“Freya’s hair sore.” You told him as he walked inside. “She won’t let anyone brush it.”

Logan slowly made his way inside. “Oh, no. That’s not good.”

Logan took a second before pulling his jeans a little to be able to crouch down. “I see Y/n’s already put some magic spray on it?” 

Freya nodded. “She said it’s going to help.”

Logan nodded, placing down the bottle you handed him. “Well, that’s true.”

“Will you let me try and brush it?” 

Freya debated the idea, fear still in her eyes before shaking her head. 

“Okay, that’s okay.” 

Then you had an idea. 

But Logan beat you to it. 

“Would it be okay if I tried?” Logan asked. “I promise I’ll be gentle.”

Freya, although still fearful, slowly handed Logan the brush she’d been holding in a death grip. 

“Come and sit over here, honey.” 

Freya stood up with Rogue’s help before Logan helped lift her onto the vanity stool and crouched behind her. 

“Promise you’ll be gentle?”

“I promise.”

“Pinky swear.”

Logan spotted you and Rogue through the glass for a second before looking back at Freya and linking his pinky with hers. 

It was the first time in a month Freya had sat down, quietly, and not cried or yelled out when someone was brushing her hair. 

By the time Logan had finished, he didn’t know what to do. So, quickly, Rogue came back to his side. “Is it okay if I put it into a braid?”

Freya nodded. “Thank you, Professor Logan.”

Logan gave her a small smile and handed her the brush. “Anytime, kiddo.”

Standing back beside you, your arms crossed your chest and you nudged Logan a tad. “You’re a good man, Logan. Thank you.”

Logan shrugged, putting his hands into his pockets. “She’s a good kid. They all go through this phase. Some are worse than others.”

You smiled at him before looking back to where Rogue was explaining something to Freya.

“Do you know how to do that?”

You looked up at Logan. “What? Braid hair?”

He nodded. 

“Yeah, why?”

He looked at you. “Could you…teach me?”

A slightly wider smile graced your face. “I’d be happy to.”

That was why a few hours later, Rogue was sitting in front of you, whilst Logan was sitting behind you, following along with how you were braiding Rogue’s hair. 

“How do you even learn how to do this?”

“It’s just like riding a bike, Logan. Once you know how to do it, you will never forget it.”

Logan grumbled and let your hair fall through his fingers. Meanwhile, you slowly tugged at Rogue’s fresh braid until it had come undone. 

“I’ll go slow. Just follow me. Split it into three.” 

Logan did that. 

“Take one outer section.”

Logan did that, too. 

“And pull it across the middle.” You move the original middle section to the side before taking the other outer section and pulling that across to create a new middle. 

“And you just keep repeating that until you get to the end of the hair, and finally, finish with a bobble.”

Logan had finally done it. It was loose, but he had done it. 

Rogue’s watch went off. “Shoot. I was meant to meet Bobby.”

“Go ahead, just don’t wreck the kitchen this time.”

Rogue smiled. “We’ll try not to.”

Closing the door behind her, Rogue left. 

You remained seated in front of Logan’s legs as he pulled the hair tie free and your braid fell out again. “Think you can do it on your own?”

Logan let out a breath and tried again. “Outer over middle?”

You nodded lightly. “And then the same on the other side. You’ll be doing french braids before you know it.”

“They can stay in France.” 

Logan continued to braid down your hair. It had been years since someone had played with your hair, and you found it comforting. Raking his fingers from the top of your head, he split it into sections once more and you felt yourself falling asleep. 

Less than a week later, you walked past the living room where you found Freya sat between Logan’s legs as he brushed and braided her hair. 

The next morning you woke up with a smile at the memory before being hit with a dull punch to your lower abdomen. 

You didn’t move for twenty minutes because every time you tried, it seemed to come back. But once it had finally passed, you forced yourself to sit up, your head feeling heavy before you looked at your bedsheets. 

“Of course.” 

For the next two days, all you wanted to do was crawl back into bed. Your period had decided to kick the shit out of you ever since it surprised you by coming a week earlier than expected. 

And by the time Logan found you, you were sitting uncomfortably in the television room, watching reruns of the Addams Family. 

“You look like hell.”

You gave a small sniff. “Feel like it, too.”

Logan pressed his hand to your head. “You’ve got a temperature.”

“It’s just hormones.”

Logan shook his head, pressing the back of his hand to your cheeks before pressing his fingers to your neck but you swatted him away. 

“No, it’s not.”

“Logan, I’m on my period. A week early.”

Logan nodded. “I know. That’s why I brought you this.”

In his hand, Logan handed you a fresh hot water bottle and a packet of chocolate. “Oh, my god,” you sighed. “You’re a saint.”

You could have cried. Maybe you were. 

You were in that much pain, you couldn’t exactly tell. 

Sitting beside you, Logan pulled a blanket over your bottom half as you held the hot water bottle against you and snuggled into his side. 

And for the next hour and a half, Logan stayed by your side, watching the Addams Family Show with you. Half way through, his hand absentmindedly stroked at your hair before he pulled you closer to him, allowing him to kiss the top of your head. 

“You are the greatest man who ever lived, Logan Howlett.” You told him before looking up at him. “I really mean that.”

“I’m sure you do, sweetheart.”

Then you saw it. 

Logan didn’t believe you. Sure, there was the smallest smile to his face, but you could see it in his eyes. He didn’t believe you. 

And that struck you to your core. 

“Logan, look at me.” Pressing your palm to his cheek, you turned his head. “I do mean it. Thank you for everything you’ve done.”

Logan took a moment. Then he smiled. “Don’t mention it.”

And he kissed your head. 

Laying back down on his chest, you watch the rest of the episode whilst your insides started to feel like it was holding a hellhound in a cage that was scratching its way out of you. 

“You okay?”

With your eyes squeezed tight, you nodded. “Just cramps. They’re usually not this bad. Or at least this often.”

Logan nodded, his hand rubbing up and down your back. “What usually helps?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I usually ride it out. They come in waves.”

“What about painkillers?”

The sharpness finally left but the dullness stayed. “I like to see how high my pain threshold is.”

Logan groaned a little and rolled his eyes. “And you say I have a death wish.”

Taking your hand, Logan walked you towards the door, turning the TV off and throwing the remote back onto the sofa from the door. 

“Where are we going?”

“I’m running you a bath. I’ve heard they usually help.”

And he did. 

Even why you tried to say he didn’t, and you could do it yourself. 

“Sweetheart, you can barely walk.” Logan told you as he splashed the bubble bath through the water. “And I could smell you from down the hall. You need to wash your hair.”

That was how you found yourself sitting into a hot bath, covering yourself with bubbles as Logan came back inside. 

Quietly, he pulled a stool beside the bath as you pushed yourself to sit further forward. “Can you dip your head back?”

Slowly, you did so and it wasn’t long before Logan was running shampoo through your hair, softly scrubbing at your scalp. God, you never wanted to leave. 

Logan felt you relax against his touch, slowly leaning your head back when his palm brushed against your forehead. 

With a cup, Logan let the water fall through your hair, washing the suds away from your scalp, down your back and into the water. 

For both of you, everything felt…quiet. Calm. 

Intimate. 

“Thank you,” you broke the silence eventually. “This really helps.”

Logan pulled his gaze from your back and shoulders, forcing himself to look anywhere else but you. “Good. I’m…I’m glad.”

“Hey, Logan?”

“Yeah?”

“I meant it. What I said before.” You repeated it as you looked back at him. “You are a good man.”

Logan swallowed, avoiding your gaze to look at his hands for a second. “We don’t have to-”

You held onto his hands and he finally looked at you. “I mean it, Logan. You are a good man.”

He shook his head. “No, I’m not.”

“Why?”

His gaze flicked to your lips and back up to your eyes. You couldn’t deny you hadn’t thought about it as well. 

“Because a good man wouldn’t be thinking what I’m thinking right now.”

You felt yourself lean closer to him. “What are you thinking?”

Logan shook his head despite the fact he felt himself move closer to you, too. “You don’t want to know.”

Your own gaze flicked to his lips and back again. “I trust you, Logan. I want you to tell me what you’re thinking.”

Slowly you came to your knees and Logan’s eyes roamed over you, his breath shortening by the time he looked back to your eyes. 

Pulling his hands from yours, one began to brush the wet streaks of hair from your face and neck as the other found your waist and started moving lower towards your hip. 

Despite the hot bath, your skin flared in goosebumps at Logan’s touch, your own breath hitching in your chest. 

“Tell me what you want.”

“I want to kiss you,” Logan held before his palm spread wider on your hip. “I want to feel you.”

“Then do it.”

Logan didn’t need to be told twice. 

Pressing his lips to yours, it wasn’t long before his hands pulled you closer to him, your own hands pulling him in by his collar. You let his hands freely roam your body, before one slipped down and over your ass, hitching you up until your legs wrapped around his waist, a pile of water trailing after you both. 

Turning around, Logan set you down on the counter top, moving back a little before letting his lips make their way down your jaw, neck and chest. 

Cupping the back of his head, you whispered his name. And for a second he pulled away. His hand still by your waist, he leaned over and fumbled with the shower until it was finally spraying out. 

And whilst you waited for it to heat up, Logan put himself back on you. 

His hands were everywhere and it was driving you insane. And once he finally did something about it, you let out a little gasp. 

“Is this okay?”

A smile came to your face as you dipped your head forward, his lips pressing gentle kisses to the side of your neck. 

“More than okay.”

Curling his digits inside of you, you let out a breathy moan and jolted forward a little when his thumb began circling your clit, adding more pressure. 

You gasped. “Logan.”

“S’okay, Sweetheart.” His lips captured yours again as his other hand held you steady by your hair. “Just ride it out.”

Thrusting in and out of you, he continued to curl up inside of you. 

“M-more. Logan.” You moaned in pleasure, your pussy begging for him to circle your clit harder. “Please.”

Entering a third finger, Logan stretched you out as he felt your walls pulse against his fingers. 

“That’s it.” He spurred you on. 

You fell back against the wall as his hand left your head and came to your hip, pulling you closer to him and the edge whilst his fingers curled deeper inside of you. 

“That’s it.”

You gasped. “Keep-keep going. Don’t stop. Logan…”

Almost chanting his name as his mouth made its way down your collarbone, his tongue flicking over your nipple before sucking at the curve of your breast, you felt Logan apply more pressure around your clit, keeping a steady speed as he brushed in a circle. 

You gasped. “Logan, I’m gonna-”

You didn’t have time to finish your sentence as a moan of pleasure escaped from your throat before Logan’s own mouth caught it in his. 

Your breath heavy and your chest heaving to catch it, Logan swiped across your clit a few more times until you had fully finished. 

The steam was growing heavy around you both and once Logan had finally stripped down with your help, it wasn’t long before you found yourself pressed against the glass of the shower, Logan’s hand leaving a running print beside your head. 

He had been washing your body, his hand grazing the loofa over your skin, all the while he pushed the hair from the side of your neck and slowly pressed firm kisses down the length of your neck. 

Slowly, he turned you around before you found your back against the glass, his hand beside your head and his lips on yours once more. 

Mere seconds later, you hooked your leg around his hip and slowly guided himself into you. 

By the time morning finally broke through, you were fast asleep against Logan, miraculously still in the pyjamas you had put on after the best shower experience you had had in years. 

Dressed in his boxers, his legs were tangled with yours, his chest pressed firmly against your back. 

And by the time you woke up, you found two small braids at the side of your head and a note from Logan saying he’d be back later since Storm had dragged him into being the second chaperone for the field trip. 

One busy day and a broken down bus later, Logan finally got home and found you half asleep on the sofa you had been on the night before. 

“Hey,” you whispered, the light from the TV brightening you both for a moment before a laughing track played. “You’re back.”

“I’m back.” Logan whispered back before moving the blanket up a little to allow him to slide in beside you. 

“I missed you this morning.”

“I wouldn’t have left but Storm cornered me when I was making coffee.”

You smiled a little, wrapping your arms around him as he did you with you. “I figured.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Better.” Logan pressed his palm gently against your lower half, holding the small of your belly up a little bit which somehow relieved some of the pressure your uterus had been putting on you since mid-afternoon. 

“Want to head to bed?”

“Soon,” you told him. “I want to find out what happens?”

Logan smiled a little. “Haven’t you watched these before?”

“A dozen times, but I still love them.”

Around ten minutes before the episode finished, Logan felt you grow a little heavy beside him and when he looked down, he found you were fast asleep. He waited for the episode to finish before turning the TV off and bringing his hands under your legs and his arm around your back as he lifted you up. 

By the turn of the hour, you were cuddled back besides Logan, one of his hands at the bottom of your back, the other holding your knee in place over his middle. 

The next couple of months continued the same way. Often, you’d fall asleep or at the very least be half way there before Logan would carry you to bed. It seemed to change every couple of nights who’s room you’d sleep in. 

There were moments when Logan would wake up, roaring from the pain of memories. But he was finding them to be very few and far between ever since he started waking up next to you. 

By Christmas, you couldn’t have been more in love with Logan if you tried. And realising this fact hadn’t been from some grand romantic gesture that would be shown to be in the next Hollywood blockbuster. 

He had simply said that you needed to get some lights for the Christmas tree. 

With his arm around your waist, you looked up at Logan to find a look of confusion on his face. You could practically hear the cogs turning over in his head. 

“What? What is it?”

You looked back at the tree, expecting it to be housing a family of squirrels despite the fact it was artificial. 

Too many kids in the school had an allergy to pine trees. 

“We need some lights.”

Logan walked forward and straightened up the tree and you just stood…shocked. Your hands still clutching themselves in front of you, you felt your heart practically swell with excitement and…

Love. 

“What?” Logan looked at you from behind the tree. 

You broke out in a smile and shook your head. “Nothing. I’m just…excited. It’s officially Christmas.”

“We’re still in November.”

“Barely.” You protested. “And besides, who was the one who wanted to get the tree out of the attic?”

As your arms came around his neck, his arms came around your waist pulling you closer to him as he stepped out from behind the tree. 

“Okay, fine. You’ve got me there. But it’s only because I know Rogue will spend the next week badgering me to get it down.”

“You just keep telling yourself that,” you smiled before kissing him. “You might be a good man, Logan Howlett. But you are a terrible, terrible liar.”

A couple of weeks later, school had finally finished. The Winter exam season was finally over and grading the final paper, Logan threw it into the box before sealing the lid shut and carrying it to the other side of his room, shoving it into the bottom of his closet. 

Riddled with tiredness, Logan slumped down onto the edge of his bed rubbing his face just as you walked in. 

“Here you are.”

Logan looked up and graced you with a tired smile. “Close the door.”

You did so before walking over towards him where he placed his fingers through the belt loops of your jeans and pulled you closer until you were standing in between his legs. 

“Long day?” You asked him as he lay his head against your middle, letting your hands run through the back of his hair. 

“The longest. You?”

You let out a sigh. “Longer still. I think I need to teach a couple of handwriting classes. It’s not the marking that takes forever, it’s the reading. Have you finished?”

Logan looked up at you. “Just finished the last one.”

“I’ve still got a couple more on my desk.”

“They can wait until tomorrow.” Logan told you. “Let’s just take a break. Where are the others?”

“Down by the hill.” You nodded your head towards his window. “Storm’s making it a snow day for everyone. They should be gone for a couple hours.”

“Why didn’t you go with them?” Logan’s hands pushed your shirt up a little allowing him to feel your skin. 

“Because,” you smiled. “I wanted to see you.”

Logan smirked. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

Logan pressed a small kiss to your belly. “Any other reason why?”

You shook your head, acting oblivious. “Not that I can think of.”

Logan pressed some more kisses across your middle whilst his hands started to unbutton your jeans to allow him more access. 

He heard you take in a breath and he smirked, feeling your hands rake through his hair, your nails scratching at his scalp before going down his neck. 

“Well, maybe I can think of one.”

Logan smirked. “If you’re thinking, I’m not doing my job properly.”

Continuing to press his kiss against you, Logan slowly pulled your jeans down your hips, over your ass and down your legs, being sure to press his kiss along your thighs as he brought himself to his knees. 

Trailing his hands up and down your legs as you stepped out of your jeans, Logan looked up at you. 

“Beautiful.”

You felt yourself blush at his words before he pressed a kiss against the inside of your thigh. 

“So beautiful.”

For a moment, you felt your knees go weak. 

Stumbling back a little, you gripped onto the edge of his desk. Slowly, his hand caressed your calf, bringing your leg up. Again, his hot breath trailed up the inside of your thigh, pressing chaste kisses against your skin as he made his way towards where your panties were still on. 

Taking his time with you, he pressed more kisses to your hip bone whilst his fingers toyed with the line of your underwear. 

Pulling each side down at a time, he kissed the soft skin under them before finally removing them all together. 

Finally, pressing kissed down the middle of your stomach as his hands played with your ass, he hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, lifting you a little until you were balancing on the edge of his desk. 

“So wet already.”

His tongue was light at first, against your clit, coaxing it out of hiding until it was fully present for him. With his moans vibrating against your pussy, you gripped the back of his head. 

Gasping, you felt his tongue slip inside of you, tasting every last bit of you. 

Every now and again, his nose would bump against your clit leaving you wanting more, begging him to do more. 

Then he finally listened. 

Pushing a finger inside of you, he hooked it up before pulling back out, all too slowly for your liking. 

Logan looked up for a moment, watching your head fall back as he sucked at you and your own hand went under your top and you began playing with yourself. 

“M-more. Logan. Please.”

With a smirk, Logan added a second finger.

“Keep going,” you pleaded with him before letting out a gasping moan. “That’s- that’s- that’s it. Logan.”

If there was something Logan lived for, it was watching this. Watching your build up before your eventual release. The gasps and moans that escaped your throat, the slight scream you would give as he got you closer and closer to the edge. 

Logan’s jeans restricted him almost to the point of pleasure. “Fuck,” he groaned. 

Lapping you up, Logan was surrounded by your scent and taste. He thrusted faster hearing you go from slowly muttering his own word to almost screaming it. 

With his tongue circling your clit, he felt your walls tighten against his fingers, his hair being gripped by your hand and he finally got the full taste of you. 

Logan made you come twice more before the others got back; once more with his fingers, stretching you out as you lay against his bed, his mouth taking over the work of your hands, leaving them to roam free across him, and finally with you stuffed full of his cock, begging for more as he slowly built up to pounding into you, before flipping you both over, letting you ride him whilst one hand held you steady and the other drove you half to insanity as he played with your clit and his lips left his mark against every corner and curve of your skin. 

And once more after everyone had gone to bed. 

Feeling his chest against your back as you both walked into his room, one hand came up your shirt before the other went down your bed shorts, pulling your fresh panties to the side and circling and dipping into your some more. 

Before you knew it, both of your clothes were strewn across the room and Logan was flipping you over, lifting your ass, allowing his hand to leave its print before snaking around you, letting you beg into his pillows as he flicked at your clit. 

After Christmas, the months began bleeding into one and before you knew it, summer was just around the corner. 

Outside on the fresh grass, Logan was coaching the final baseball game of the day whilst you were with a couple of the kids, picking out fresh flowers from both the garden and the grass.

However, just before Logan was about to yell time on the game, you felt his arms come around your waist. 

He tied his jacket around your waist. “I’ll run you a bath later.”

Logan kissed the shell of your ear before running back across the field, calling time. 

Twenty minutes later, Logan was back at your side, kneeling in the grass with the rest of the kids, and at some point in time, you turned around to find Logan being told to sit still whilst Freya stood in front of him, Rogue sitting beside him taking pictures. 

When Freya moved out of the way, you saw what she had been doing. 

Walking over with a small laugh, you crouched by Freya’s side. 

“Well don’t you look cute.”

Logan tried his best to hide his smile but he couldn’t help it. You caught it anyway. 

“Freya made it for him,” Rogue told you before holding up her camera. “Don’t worry, I’ve got plenty of pictures.”

Freya nodded proudly. “I found some more daisies by the fountain so I could make one for Professor Logan.”

And sure enough, there it was. A daisy chain flower crown around Logan’s head. 

“I made you one, too, Y/n.” Freya showed you as it hung delicately from her arm. “So now you can be matching.”

“Thank you, Freya.” You smiled widely. “Would you put it on for me?”

Freya gave a small smile and shook her head before holding her arm out to Logan. “I think Professor Logan should put it on.”

Logan looked at you and raised his eyebrows for a quick second before carefully removing the crown from around Freya’s arm. Quickly she stepped out of the way and sat in between Rogue’s legs. 

“Take some pictures.” Freya whispered to Rogue. 

With a soft smile, Logan got onto his knees as you fell to yours in front of him. He brushed a few stray hairs from your face before carefully placing the crown securely on your head. 

Logan smiled at you, his thumb brushing your cheek. “Beautiful.”

Rogue gave a small cough with a hidden smirk. It wasn’t uncommon for either you or Logan to get lost in the other's eyes when you were together. There could be thirty people in the room, but the minute you looked at each other, the rest of the world faded away. 

Snapping back into reality, Logan cleared his throat. “What do you think, kid?”

Freya rushed to Logan. “Hmm. It’s perfect!”

You smiled as Freya hugged you. “Thank you, Freya. It’s beautiful.”

“Hey, Freya? Want to take some more pictures?”

“Yes, please.” 

Rogue handed the camera over to her and helped her put it around her neck. “Be careful with it?”

“I promise.”

Rogue held out her pinky and Freya linked her with Rogue’s. 

“Come on, Ms Y/n. I want to show you something.”

“Okay,” you laughed. “I’m coming. Slow down, honey. Don’t fall.”

Rogue watched as Logan watched you and Freya run down the field towards the fountain to a small bed of flowers. 

“You really love her, don’t you?” Rogue asked, already knowing the answer. She looked away before she could see the slight flash of fear on Logan’s face. 

But it was true. 

He did love you. 

Truly loved you. 

And yet…he hadn’t told you yet. 

But you hadn’t told him. 

It had been almost nine months and neither of you had told the other you loved them. Of course, there had been unspoken moments. The slow, lazy mornings when his fingers would trace up and down your back before dipping under the covers pulling you closer to him. The quick goodbye’s between lunch breaks when you’d both rush off to teach your classes. The danger moments where it had almost been said, but the hesitation had been covered up by both of you. 

“It’s okay. Just tell me when you get back.” You’d tell each other. 

Only, you never did. 

You showed it. 

But never said it. 

And as Logan watched you with Freya, holding the butterfly on your finger as Freya worked the camera, snapping some pictures, Logan wondered if he would ever have the courage to tell you. And if that day ever came…would that be the day you leave him? Or worse, get hurt because of him?

You looked back at Logan for a moment as Freya took another picture. And he smiled back, giving you a small wave back. 

“I hope I have what you and Y/n have one day.”

Logan looked at Rogue. “I thought you’re with Bobby?”

Rogue smiled and looked down. “I am. We are. But I think it’ll take a while before he looks at me like how you look at her.”

Logan shook his head with a smile before standing. “Don’t doubt it, kid. He loves you. Anyone with eyes can see it. The same way anyone with eyes can see you eyeing him up from all the way over here.”

Rogue blushed before Logan lowered his hand down to help her up. “Well, it’s not like you two are the most subtle couple in the world. But do you really think so? About me and Bobby?”

“Look, kid. I’m no saint when it comes to advice, or love for that matter, but you just have to take each day as it comes. At the end of the day, if he’s still the one you want to talk to, even when you’re fighting with each other, you’re on a better path than most.”

“Isn’t it better not to fight?”

Logan shrugged. “Fighting is just a part of life, kid. But if ever lays a hand on you, he won’t be standing for very long.”

Rogue gave Logan a small smile. “Bobby’s not like that. And if he ever was, no one else would have to worry about what would happen to him. That I can handle on my own. But thanks anyway.”

Logan nodded and patted her shoulder before looking around. “I’ll be back soon. Keep an eye on Y/n for me?”

“I think she can look after herself,” Rogue nodded. “But sure. Hey, where are you going?”

“Nowhere important. I’ll be back soon.”

Taking the steps two at a time, Logan made his way inside the school.

Hours after the sun had set, you still hadn’t seen Logan since he crowned you with daisies. 

Then, taking a walk into his room, you looked out of his window and saw him sitting in the gardens. 

“Hey, what are you doing out here?”

Logan looked back, a little startled that someone else was out with him. “Nothing. Just…sitting here.”

“Mind if I join you?”

Logan shuffled up a little and you sat beside him. 

Logan was quiet. Usually he’d hold your hand or he’d put his arm around you. This time, he just looked out and away. 

“Is everything okay? I didn’t see you after the flower crowning ceremony.”

You looked up and found the flower crown peeking out from his hair. He still hadn’t taken it off. Or he’d forgotten it was there. 

Yours had been twisted into your hair by Rogue and Freya when it came loose during dinner. 

“I don’t know what we’re meant to be doing.”

You shrugged. “Right now, nothing. I thought we were just sitting here.”

“I’m not a good man, Y/n.”

You drew back a little. “Where is this coming from?”

Logan took a breath. “Rogue made me realise something today and I don’t know what I’m meant to do. I’m not a good man, Y/n. People I care about, people I lov-” 

Logan looked at you and the words faltered in his mouth. 

“They get hurt.” He finalised. “People get hurt because of me.”

“Logan-”

“Or by me. I’m not a good man.”

“Yes, you are!”

“No, I’m not.”

“You’re a good man, Logan,” you finalised. 

“Please. Don’t say things that aren’t true.”

You were baffled. “Why wouldn’t it be true?”

“Because everyone I have ever cared for has gotten hurt or died. And I can’t put you through that. I can’t see you getting hurt because of me.”

You shook your head. “Logan, I’m not going to get hurt because of you.”

“Really? Because if you haven’t noticed, our lives aren’t exactly the most normal in the world.”

“Maybe not, but I’m enjoying my life so far.” You raised your voice a little as Logan stood up, beginning to pace. 

“I’m not good enough for you, Y/n. You deserve the good guy.”

“You are a good guy.” You stood, walking towards him. 

With his hands on his hips, Logan stopped pacing and you stopped walking, falling six feet short of him. “No, I’m not. People…people don’t take someone like me home. They don’t marry someone like me. They don’t end up with someone like me. You don’t want me.”

You took a step forward. “Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t. I’m not the good guy. The one you can take home.”

You took a breath. “Logan, I am home. And you are the good guy. You always have been. Whoever convinced you you’re not the good guy can fuck off. And nothing you say will convince me otherwise.”

Logan almost pleaded. “Why?”

Logan knew he didn’t have the best record when it came to those he loved, surviving past so many years of friendship with him. Leaning on over a hundred years, Logan had known loss in more ways than one. Why couldn’t you see that you could lose, too? That because of him, because fate seemed to have damned him to a life of forever losing those he loved, you would lose, too? Why couldn’t you see that by being with him, you were putting your own life on the line? 

“Because I love you, Logan!” 

Logan felt like he’d been kicked in the chest by a horse. “Nothing you or anyone else can say or do will ever convince me that you’re not the good guy. Because you are. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Hell, I’m seeing it right now.”

You gestured to his head. 

The Daisy Chain Flower Crown. 

He’d almost forgotten it was still on his head. 

“Logan, you have spent your entire life looking out for people.”

“They still get hurt.”

“Maybe,” you shrugged. “But that wasn’t your fault. Sometimes there is nothing any of us can do that will stop someone from getting hurt because sometimes that’s just how it’s meant to be. Sometimes we can learn from it, most of the time it’s just a shit part of life. Logan, you are a good guy. Better yet, you’re a good person. You always help when you can. You take care and look out for those you care about.”

You continued. “Whoever told you you’re not the good guy, they were wrong. Plain and simple. If you’re not the good guy, then who sits on a classroom floor at five in the morning cutting out decorations for somebody else's classroom? Who brings me coffee every morning, just how I like it? Who helps a little girl not be afraid of brushing her hair anymore? Who then asks to learn how to style hair so he can do it for her? Who helps set up a Christmas dance, and steps in to help the kids learn how to dance properly?”

That was something you remembered most often. Rogue and Bobby had been struggling to learn how to dance together, forever stepping on each other's toes. Until Logan had been through watching enough second-hand pain and stepped up. 

He had taken your hand in his, setting your book face down on the side table beneath the lamp and talked Rogue and Bobby through it. 

“Logan,” you whispered to him. “I don’t know how to dance.”

“Just follow my lead,” he whispered into your ear. 

You later found out, over a hot cup of tea, that he had learnt to properly dance when he was younger (at least, that’s what he figured from his muscle memory) but most of it came from when he had a short stint as a security guard at a retirement centre where some of the older women would ask him to dance with them before pushing him off to dance with their visiting granddaughters. 

Logan had led you effortlessly, leaving both Rogue and Bobby in shock. Parting from you, Logan helped Rogue learn first, it being clear she wasn’t a natural follower. And then he taught Bobby, making him copy his steps as he moved with an imaginary partner. 

“Who spends entire evenings sitting watching reruns of black and white TV shows with me, even if we’ve seen them a thousand times? Who spends more time holding doors open, grabbing things from the higher shelves, braiding kids' hair when they ask, helping Rogue learn how to bake properly without burning the kitchen down? You do. You do, Logan. Because that is who you are. You are the guy that, even hours later, still wears the flower crown in his hair because someone made it for him.”

You held your hands by his neck, making him look at you. 

“And that is why I love you.” 

His gaze finally zoned in on yours. 

“Because for all your gruffness, grunting and brooding, you are kind. And thoughtful. And considerate. And I don’t think you realise how good you truly are, Logan. I don’t care if you think I’m going to get hurt. What hurts me is you thinking you’re not good enough for me, because you are Logan. You are the guy I could only ever dream of finding, when I was a kid. And even then, I didn’t find you. You found me. Sitting on that hardwood floor in my classroom where you brought me my coffee and gave me your jacket to keep me warm. I love you, Logan Howlett. Nothing can ever change that for me.”

Finally kissing him, you felt every emotion pour not only from yourself but also from Logan. Your kisses bled from his lips, across his cheeks and finally to the side of his neck as his arms wrapped around you, holding you flush against him. 

He didn’t want to let go. 

With one hand in your hair and the other wrapped around your back, Logan pressed you even closer, taking in your scent with his. 

“I love you so much.”

Logan’s words vibrated through your entire system and for a moment, your heart relaxed. Pulling back a little so you could see his face, your thumbs brushed across his cheeks as his forehead pressed against yours. 

“You are my home, Logan. I love you. I always will.”

“I love you, too.”

“Never let me go.”

“Never.” 

Logan barely had time to get his words out before his mouth found yours for a second outpouring of emotion. 

Eventually, you both finally made it back upstairs where Logan helped you into a hot bath whilst the sound of old reruns came from your bedroom TV.

After that night, never a day went by where you didn’t tell each other you loved each other. Nor was there a day where Logan didn’t prove you wrong. He was the good guy. He was your home. 

And you loved him for it. 

And he loved you back, just as strongly. 

[urdreamydoodles]

Hello!!! I just found your page and yes I already I love your work!!

If it’s no trouble, may I ask for X-men characters with a Pregnant s/o headcanons? Like how they would be when you tell them you’re pregnant, how they are when you’re pregnant, and how they’d be during labor! 😵‍💫😵‍💫

Could I also ask it be with: Logan, Scott, Gambit, Ororo, Colossus, and Kurt??

If not it’s totally okay! Have a great rest of your day 💖💖

X-Men x Pregnant!Reader

How they handle your pregnancy

Each X-Man reacts differently to your pregnancy, from initial surprise and joy to unwavering support during labor, reflecting their unique personalities and love for you.

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Scott Summers, Ororo Munroe, Kurt Wagner, Colossus (+ my personal addition : Erik Lehnsherr, Wade Wilson, Wanda Maximoff & Pietro Maximoff)

Thank you for saying that, hearing that my work is liked makes me really happy, thank you ♡ And it's not a trouble at all — love the prompt! — Love, Marie, your friendly marvel fangirl

Logan Howlett (Wolverine)

When you tell Logan you’re pregnant, his initial reaction is a mix of shock and silence. For a moment, he’s frozen in place, his gruff exterior cracking just enough to reveal how truly taken aback he is by the news. He’s been through so much, lost so many people, and had so many regrets in his life that the thought of bringing a child into this world overwhelms him. But after a long, quiet moment, his eyes soften, and he gently places a hand on your stomach, the roughness of his calloused palm contrasting with the tenderness in his gesture. His voice, usually gruff and low, is quiet when he says, "I’ll protect both of ya… no matter what."

During your pregnancy, Logan becomes fiercely protective. He’s always been the protective type, but now it’s ramped up to an entirely different level. He doesn’t let you do anything that might risk your health or the baby’s, even if it’s something small like lifting a grocery bag. He makes sure you’re comfortable, constantly checking in with you—though he tries to act like he’s not worried. You often catch him watching you, eyes filled with a mix of awe and uncertainty. He tries not to hover, but you can see how much he cares. The moment you’re uncomfortable, he’s there, ready to do anything to help. His biggest fear, though he never outright says it, is that something will happen to you or the baby, so he keeps an almost obsessive eye on both of your well-being.

When labor begins, Logan is a mess of emotions. He’s usually the calm in any storm, but seeing you in pain makes him feel helpless in a way he’s not used to. He holds your hand, trying to keep you calm, though his own heart races. "I’m here, darlin’. You’re strong. You got this," he murmurs, pressing kisses to your forehead, staying close, trying to mask his own panic. When the baby finally comes, and he hears that first cry, tears fill his eyes. He never thought he could experience something so beautiful and terrifying at the same time. Logan would quietly hold the baby, marveling at the tiny life you both created, knowing he’s going to protect this child with everything he has.

Remy LeBeau (Gambit)

Telling Remy you’re pregnant is like lighting a firework. He’s always been a charmer, quick with a grin and a flirtatious quip, but when the news sinks in, his eyes light up with uncontainable excitement. "Mon dieu… I gon’ be a papa?" he says in disbelief, his signature grin widening as he pulls you into his arms. His hands immediately find your stomach, even if there’s no sign of the baby yet, and he plants a loving kiss on your lips. Remy is the kind of man who loves with his whole heart, and now, the idea of a family with you makes him feel like the luckiest man alive.

Throughout the pregnancy, Remy is absolutely doting. He spoils you beyond belief, making sure you have everything you need. He constantly brings you little gifts—flowers, chocolates, or even things for the baby—and he can’t help but talk to your belly every chance he gets, whispering sweet nothings in French. "Cher bébé, you gon’ have de best life wit’ us," he coos. He’s also incredibly playful, making jokes to keep your spirits high during the more uncomfortable parts of the pregnancy. If you’re feeling tired or sick, he’s quick to comfort you, but he does it with his usual playful charm. "You look beautiful, ma chérie, even wit’ a lil’ bump," he teases, kissing your cheek. Remy’s energy makes the whole experience feel lighter, more fun, and less daunting.

During labor, Remy’s usual calm and collected demeanor falters. He’s still his charming self, but there’s a frantic edge to his words as he holds your hand. "You okay, chérie? I’m right here wit’ you," he reassures, though you can see the worry in his eyes. He’s not used to seeing you in pain, and it shakes him more than he thought it would. As the labor progresses, he stays by your side, whispering sweet encouragements in French and English, never letting go of your hand. When the baby finally arrives, he’s completely overwhelmed, tears of joy running down his face as he holds your child for the first time. "Our lil’ miracle," he says softly, his heart full to bursting with love for both you and the baby.

Scott Summers (Cyclops)

When you tell Scott you’re pregnant, he’s stunned, standing still for a long moment as he processes the news. Scott, being the logical and responsible leader he is, has always thought about the future and the possibility of a family, but hearing it from you makes it real in a way that both excites and terrifies him. "We’re… we’re going to be parents?" he asks, his voice soft with disbelief before his arms wrap around you tightly. You can see the joy in his face, mixed with the weight of responsibility that’s already setting in. He’s already planning everything in his mind—how he’ll protect you, the future he’ll build for the three of you, ensuring that you and the baby are always safe.

Throughout your pregnancy, Scott is incredibly attentive and thoughtful. He’s the type to read all the parenting books, meticulously prepare for every scenario, and ensure that you’re comfortable and healthy at all times. He schedules every doctor’s appointment, makes sure you’re eating well, and insists that you take things easy. He’s also incredibly emotional during this time, though he tries to hide it. You often catch him looking at you with a softness in his eyes, one hand resting protectively on your stomach. "I love you so much," he says out of the blue one night, his voice filled with quiet awe. Scott takes everything seriously, and your pregnancy is no exception—he’s already planning how to be the best father he can be.

When the day of labor arrives, Scott is calm and composed, but you can feel the tension rolling off him in waves. He’s a natural leader, but this is out of his control, and it scares him more than he’ll admit. He holds your hand the entire time, murmuring words of encouragement, but there’s a tightness in his voice that betrays his worry. "You’re doing great, we’re almost there," he says, though you can tell he’s just as nervous as you are. When the baby is born, Scott is overcome with emotion. He’s usually so controlled, but in this moment, tears stream down his face as he holds your newborn in his arms. "We did it," he whispers, looking between you and the baby with a sense of awe and love so profound it leaves him speechless.

Ororo Munroe (Storm)

When you tell Ororo you’re pregnant, her reaction is calm yet filled with quiet joy. She has always been a steady presence, and that doesn’t change even in a moment as life-altering as this. You watch as her eyes widen slightly, and she takes a deep breath, letting it out with a smile that’s filled with nothing but love. "A child," she says softly, as if testing the words out on her lips before she steps closer, pulling you into a tender embrace. She kisses your forehead, her fingers gently brushing your stomach. "We will raise them together with the strength of the earth, the wind, and the skies," she whispers, her voice filled with a quiet reverence for this new journey you’re about to embark on together.

During the pregnancy, Ororo is a pillar of strength and grace. She watches over you with care, making sure you feel supported and at peace throughout. Her connection to nature allows her to sense even the smallest changes in your well-being, and she’s quick to help ease any discomfort you feel. She spends hours talking to your growing belly, whispering stories of the world, of the sky, and the beauty of the elements. Her presence is soothing, and she brings you peace in moments where the discomforts of pregnancy are hardest to bear. At night, she holds you close, her hands resting protectively on your stomach, often saying a quiet prayer to the earth for your safety. "You and our child are my heart," she says softly one evening as you drift off to sleep, her love for you as powerful as the storms she commands.

When the time comes for labor, Ororo is a calming force by your side. Even as the pain begins, she stays with you, her hand in yours, reminding you to breathe, to focus on the world around you. "Feel the wind, my love, let it guide you," she murmurs, her voice steady as she helps you through each contraction. You find yourself drawing strength from her presence, her deep connection to the elements grounding you. When the baby finally arrives, she cradles the tiny life in her arms with such tenderness that it brings tears to your eyes. "Welcome to the world, little one," she whispers, her eyes filled with awe and love. Ororo knows this is a moment of great power, not just in the birth of your child, but in the creation of a family bound by love and strength.

Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler)

When you tell Kurt you’re pregnant, his first reaction is pure, unfiltered joy. His golden eyes light up, and in an instant, he’s pulling you into a tight embrace, his tail curling around you protectively. "Mein Gott! You are serious, ja?" he asks, his excitement palpable. When you nod, he lets out a delighted laugh, teleporting you both into the air for a brief moment in his excitement before bringing you back down gently. He cups your face in his hands, pressing kisses all over your cheeks and lips, his happiness absolutely infectious. "I am going to be a papa?!" he repeats, as if he can’t quite believe it, but the pure joy on his face shows that he couldn’t be happier. He immediately begins to talk about your future together, about how he’ll be the best father, about how lucky the child will be to have you as their mother.

Throughout your pregnancy, Kurt is an absolute ball of energy and love. He’s always fussing over you, making sure you’re comfortable, making sure you’re happy, and doing everything he can to make you smile. He talks to your belly constantly, telling your baby stories of his own childhood, sharing his love for adventure and his deep faith. "You will be loved, little one. So very loved," he whispers often, his tail lightly wrapping around you as he presses his head to your stomach. Despite his own rough upbringing, Kurt is determined to make sure your child is raised with nothing but love and joy. He’s so excited for every little milestone, constantly asking how you’re feeling, and making sure that you never feel alone or overwhelmed. He even starts knitting baby clothes in his spare time, determined to create something personal for your child.

When labor begins, Kurt is nervous but tries his best to stay calm for your sake. He teleports in and out of the room, fetching things, bringing you water, doing anything he can to help. "You are so strong, meine liebe, you’ve got this," he says, though you can see the nervous energy in him as he paces slightly. When things get intense, he stays by your side, holding your hand tightly, his usual calm demeanor replaced with pure awe at what’s happening. The moment the baby is born, Kurt is overwhelmed with emotion. Tears fill his golden eyes as he looks at the tiny life you’ve created together. "Our little miracle," he whispers in awe, his tail brushing gently against the baby’s tiny hand as he cradles them carefully. His heart is full, knowing that this is the start of a new, beautiful chapter for your family.

Piotr Rasputin (Colossus)

When you tell Piotr you’re pregnant, his first reaction is one of quiet shock. His gentle nature has always been a core part of who he is, but the idea of becoming a father leaves him momentarily speechless. He stares at you for a moment, as if processing the magnitude of what you just said. Then, slowly, a smile breaks across his face, and his massive arms gently pull you into a warm, protective embrace. "We are going to have a child?" he asks, his voice soft and filled with wonder. His metal form, cold to the touch, somehow feels comforting as he holds you close, his hands resting gently on your stomach. "I… I will do everything to protect you and our child," he promises, his deep voice filled with determination and love.

Throughout your pregnancy, Piotr becomes an even more protective and attentive partner. He’s already used to being careful with his strength around you, but now he’s even more cautious, always making sure you’re comfortable and safe. He spends hours drawing and painting, creating art that reflects the love and joy he feels for you and the baby. His gentle nature shines through as he constantly checks in with you, making sure you’re well-rested, eating enough, and not doing anything that could put strain on you or the baby. "You should rest, moya lyubov’," he says softly, offering you a cup of tea or a warm blanket whenever you look the least bit uncomfortable. He talks about the future often, about how he wants to raise the child with the same love and care his family gave him, how he wants to teach them to be strong but gentle, like him.

When labor begins, Piotr is a bundle of nerves beneath his calm exterior. His metal form shifts, and you can see the tension in his usually composed demeanor. He stays by your side, holding your hand gently, though you can tell he’s trying not to show just how worried he is. "I am here, love, you are so strong," he says softly, his voice a low rumble as he reassures you throughout the process. As the labor progresses, he’s there every step of the way, doing whatever he can to help. When the baby is finally born, Piotr is overwhelmed with emotion. He carefully cradles the tiny life in his large, metal arms, his eyes shining with tears as he looks at you with pure love. "Our family," he whispers, his deep voice filled with awe and devotion. "You have given me everything."

Erik Lehnsherr (Magneto)

When you tell Erik you’re pregnant, his initial reaction is one of deep, contemplative silence. You watch as the weight of the news settles over him like a heavy cloak, and for a brief moment, there’s an unreadable look in his sharp eyes. He’s always been a man burdened by the past, his life filled with loss and pain. But then, his expression softens, and he reaches out to touch your face, his fingers trembling ever so slightly. "A child," he murmurs, almost as if he’s afraid to believe it. Slowly, a smile tugs at the corners of his lips, and he pulls you into a tight embrace, burying his face in your hair. "We will give them the world," he promises, his voice low and filled with the intensity that only Erik can bring. Though you can tell the news has stirred up memories of his past, the joy he feels for this future with you is undeniable.

During the pregnancy, Erik becomes fiercely protective, bordering on overbearing at times. He’s always been a man who values control, and now that you’re carrying his child, that instinct is heightened tenfold. He monitors everything, making sure you’re safe, making sure you’re comfortable, and making sure nothing threatens you or the baby. His magnetic abilities become almost a subconscious part of how he protects you, moving objects out of your way before you even realize they’re there, adjusting the temperature of the room without a second thought. Despite his intensity, there’s a tenderness in the way he speaks to your belly, as though he’s already trying to form a connection with your unborn child. "You will be strong," he says one evening, his hand resting on your stomach. "I will make sure of it."

When labor begins, Erik is calm but incredibly focused. He’s been through many battles in his life, but this is something different—a battle of a more personal kind. He stays by your side, his hand gripping yours tightly, though you can see the tension in his jaw as he tries to remain composed. "You can do this, my love," he says, his voice steady despite the worry in his eyes. As the contractions grow stronger, he channels his abilities to make the environment as soothing as possible, dimming the lights, adjusting the metal fixtures in the room to make everything feel more comfortable for you. When the baby is finally born, Erik is silent for a long moment, staring at the tiny life you’ve both created. Then, without a word, he takes the child in his arms, his eyes filled with a rare vulnerability as he gazes down at them. "I never thought I would have this again," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you."

Wade Wilson (Deadpool)

When you tell Wade you’re pregnant, his reaction is, unsurprisingly, over the top. He stares at you with wide eyes, his mouth hanging open comically for a moment before he suddenly breaks into a huge grin. "Are you serious?!" he shouts, throwing his arms in the air and spinning around in excitement. He grabs you and starts bouncing you up and down, all the while chattering on about how you’re going to have the coolest kid in the world. "Oh man, this is going to be awesome! Our little baby Wadelette, or Wadelino!" His excitement is infectious, and though his humor never stops, you can tell there’s genuine love and excitement behind his wild antics. He talks about everything from baby names to what kind of mini-costume the kid will wear, all while being completely and utterly himself.

During the pregnancy, Wade is a chaotic but devoted partner. He’s constantly hovering, making ridiculous jokes to keep your spirits up, and finding the weirdest ways to pamper you. "You’re eating for two now! Gotta keep that belly happy!" he’d say, handing you a tray of the strangest food combinations you’ve ever seen. Wade has a way of making even the most uncomfortable moments of pregnancy into something funny, but when the serious moments hit, he’s surprisingly thoughtful. He talks to your belly in exaggerated voices, telling the baby stories of his adventures and promising to be the best (and weirdest) dad ever. Though he can’t quite stop being himself, you know that beneath all the humor, Wade is completely committed to you and the baby.

When labor hits, Wade is... well, Wade. He’s running around like a madman, alternately panicking and cracking jokes to try and keep things light. "Okay, okay, I’ve got this! I’ve fought ninjas, I’ve blown up buildings, how hard can this be?!" he says, though the genuine concern in his eyes gives him away. As things progress, he becomes a little more serious, holding your hand and whispering words of encouragement between his nervous ramblings. When the baby is finally born, Wade is struck speechless for once in his life. He stares down at the tiny bundle in awe, his usual mask of humor slipping as he gently takes the baby in his arms. "Holy crap," he whispers, his voice barely above a breath. "We made a tiny person." He looks at you with wide eyes, his usual bravado replaced with pure, unfiltered love.

Wanda Maximoff (Scarlet Witch)

When you tell Wanda you’re pregnant, her initial reaction is one of quiet, overwhelmed emotion. You watch as her eyes fill with tears, her hands trembling as she reaches out to touch your face. "A baby?" she whispers, her voice filled with disbelief. For Wanda, this news is a dream she never thought possible, a hope she had long since buried beneath the weight of her complicated life. She pulls you into a gentle embrace, holding you close as she tries to process the enormity of what this means for the both of you. Her powers flicker around her, responding to her heightened emotions, but she calms herself quickly, pressing her forehead to yours. "I never thought I would have this chance," she says softly. "But now… now we can have a family."

Throughout the pregnancy, Wanda is a bundle of emotions—both excitement and worry. She’s incredibly protective, her powers always at the ready to keep you and the baby safe, but there’s an underlying fear that something could go wrong. Despite her concerns, she embraces the experience fully, surrounding you with warmth and love. She spends hours researching everything about pregnancy, reading books, and using her magic to ensure you and the baby are healthy. She talks to your belly every night, using her magic to create little illusions of what she imagines your child might look like. "You will be so loved," she whispers to your stomach, her hands gently resting over the growing life inside you. Despite the fears that linger in the back of her mind, Wanda finds joy in the journey, grateful for the chance to experience this with you.

When labor begins, Wanda is nervous but focused. She holds your hand, her magic swirling around the room in gentle pulses, trying to ease your pain and keep you calm. "You’re so strong," she says, her voice soft but full of conviction. "I’m here with you." As the contractions intensify, Wanda uses her powers to help as much as she can without interfering too much, guiding you through the pain with a steady hand and reassuring words. When the baby is finally born, Wanda is overwhelmed with emotion. She cradles the newborn in her arms, tears streaming down her face as she gazes at the life you’ve created together. "Our child," she whispers, her voice filled with awe. "I can’t believe it… they’re perfect."

Pietro Maximoff (Quicksilver)

When you tell Pietro you’re pregnant, his reaction is fast—literally. He zooms around the room at breakneck speed, his excitement palpable as he tries to process the news. "Wait, wait, wait—seriously? I’m going to be a dad?!" he exclaims, coming to a sudden stop in front of you with wide eyes and a grin that stretches from ear to ear. He’s so thrilled that he can barely stand still, constantly moving from one side of the room to the other, muttering excitedly to himself about baby names, future races, and all the things he’ll teach your child. "They’re gonna be fast, I just know it!" he says, already imagining a little speedster following in his footsteps. His excitement is contagious, and though he can be overwhelming at times, you know that Pietro’s joy is genuine and heartfelt.

During the pregnancy, Pietro is both attentive and hilariously impatient. He’s constantly zipping around, checking on you, fetching things, and making sure you’re comfortable. "You need anything? Water? Snacks? Foot rub?" he asks at lightning speed, already halfway out the door before you can answer. His energy is boundless, and though it can be a bit much at times, you appreciate how much he cares. Pietro is always talking to your belly, encouraging the baby to hurry up and grow faster. "Come on, little one, we’re all waiting for you!" he says with a grin, pressing a kiss to your stomach. Despite his impatience, Pietro is incredibly sweet, and he does everything he can to make sure you feel loved and supported throughout the entire process.

When labor begins, Pietro is a whirlwind of nervous energy. He’s constantly pacing, moving from one side of the room to the other, his speed betraying his anxiety. "You’re doing great, babe, really great!" he says, though his voice is tinged with nervousness. He tries to stay calm for your sake, but you can tell he’s on edge, desperate for everything to go smoothly. When the baby is finally born, Pietro’s world comes to a complete standstill for the first time in his life. The moment they place the baby in his arms, everything around him slows, and for once, he’s not in a rush to go anywhere. He stares down at your newborn child, his usual cocky smirk replaced with a look of pure awe and disbelief. "Wow," he whispers, his voice soft and reverent. "I… we made this." His hands, usually moving a mile a minute, are gentle as he cradles the baby close, eyes wide with wonder as he examines every little detail of their face.

[cherie-doll]

I’m sick as ALL hell, and it made me imagine big strong military bf’s taking care of me </3 smh why can’t men be real

same, i wish men existed, *sigh* ૮꒰ྀི ⸝⸝ ›̥̥̥ ·̭ ‹̥̥ ꒱ྀིა

hope u feel better!! ₍ᐢ·͈༝·͈ᐢ₎⁺ ⊹˚.⋆

𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: Taking Care Of You While You're Sick

⊱⊰ ik this painting is the death of Barbara Radziwiłł but ajsdks-

ઇଓ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Alejandro, Phillip Graves, Keegan, Hesh + Logan Walker, König, Horangi, Nikto

Price

Would try to give you the space you need when you ask for it

But inevitably, he can't go all day or night without you

Comes to you at night, scooping you up in his arms to take you to bed when you had fallen asleep on the couch, a mess of tissues and tea cups on the coffee table

Caresses your face as you lay in bed, pressing tender kisses on your nape since you don't want him touching your face

Tries to sweet talk to cheer you up because you're upset that you had to cancel/postpone plans

Ghost

He avoids making loud noises as to not make your headache worse

During the days you're sick a strong thunderstorm brings heavy rains, the soft tapping of raindrops hitting earth and leaves rustling makes you slip into the most peaceful slumber you've gotten in days

Lets you sleep in his clothes because he knows you feel comforted by his smell since you won't let him get too close

When it's past midnight and you can't sleep so you go on long, random rambles and he's just lying there listening but after a while he's like "please go to sleep, you need to rest"

Soap

Orders pastries from your favorite bakery and has them delivered so you can enjoy biting into freshly baked warm bread

Gets sad when you tell him you can't sleep in the same bed because you feel icky

"But you're going to be cold without me"

Whenever you get out of bed to grab something he follows right after you and drags you back

Due to feeling uncomfortable you frequently change places to rest and he follows you to every spot around the house

Falls asleep on top of you on the couch, it's kinda comforting

Gaz

Uses his softest voice, whispering when he asks if you need anything else

Rushing to bring you blankets, tea, books, the tv control and anything you ask for and place it on your hands

When he helps you walk to the bathroom to wash he takes the opportunity to open the window and let the summer breeze in for a change of fresh air

Frequently washes the blankets so you're always comfortable resting on silkin bedsheets

Cupping your face between his hands, radiating his warmth into your skin and telling you he'll take care of you and make sure you feel better ૮ ߹ᯅ߹ ა

Alejandro

Would make you drink tea whilst it's hot, you burned your tongue

Vicks Vaporub (no i will not elaborate)

Rubs mezcal over your body

Other than preparing you teas and making sure you're bundled up even if you feel hot from a fever, he doesn't know what else to do

He rests his head on your chest even when you tell him to sleep in a different room because you don't want to make him sick too

Listens to your heartbeat at night and doesn't fall asleep until he makes sure you're sleeping soundly

Phillip Graves

He will feed you when you confess you haven't eaten all day because you've just felt too ill to cook

Gently wiping your mouth

Every morning he quietly gets out of bed, letting you sleep in to prepare a breakfast he knows will make you feel better

Won't eat unless you've finished your meal first

You crave something that's not in the fridge, he quickly grabs his wallet and is on his way out to buy it for you <3

Keegan

Takes care of the plants and flowers you're always so dedicated to maintaining

Kissing your shoulder while you cuddle

You keep moving around in bed and he can't fall asleep either because you're restless

"Are- are you okay?" "Knock me out with a shovel"

You somehow manage to convince him to let you go outside on a walk saying the fresh air will help you some

He pulls you close to him when even the slightest breeze hits you, enveloping you in his arms

Hesh + Logan Walker

David will rush to the store to stock up on medicine, tea, and candy

He says sugar always helps keep you restore energy while you're sick

He stays up late with you on a movie marathon when you can't fall asleep

Logan tries to stay up with you too but he fails as his eyelids droop and falls asleep cuddled next to you

Logan washes your hair and takes such gentle care of it you almost fall asleep in the tub

He reads to you in bed knowing your eyes hurt and lets you rest your head on his shoulder

König

Is always fixing your spot in bed, adjusting pillows to your position and making sure you're covered with a blanket at all times

Carries you to rooms around the house

Lots of forehead kisses <33

Avoids going out, his task is to solely take care of you, unless you ask him to get you something, he'll be worrying and thinking about you while he's wishing the line at checkout would go a little faster

Buys things you didn't ask for but thinks you'll need, just in case

Horangi

Would prepare lots of teas for every one of your meals and makes sure you drink it all

Prepares lots of healthy stews to ensure you recover quickly, they're scalding hot but it feels good on your sore throat

Tells you to take it easy and stay in bed because he'll get everything for you

You don't listen and when you try to make something for yourself you accidentally drop a glass in the kitchen, it shatters on the floor and in an instant he's beside you

Checks you for any injuries, quietly taking your hands in his, running his fingers over your skin and sighing in relief when there are no injuries

Nikto

Always checking up on you, you'll be reading or watching tv and it nearly gives you a heart attack when from the corner of your eye you notice a tall, looming figure silently observing you

You're worried about falling behind on chores and other work that when you try to sneak off to do them you find it's all taken care of

With a hand on your back he guides you back to bed telling you that you shouldn't be worrying about chores anyways

Bear hugs you in bed so you can't get up and do things you shouldn't be doing because you're supposed to be resting

"I can't move" "You shouldn't, stay."

[wolvietxt]

𝖺 𝗅𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗒 𝗆𝗂𝗑-𝗎𝗉!

pairing : logan howlett x fem!reader warnings : teeny bit of angst, fluff, developing relationship, neighbour!logan, implied age gap, implied size diff, not proofread wc : 2.4k

logan wasn’t the kind of guy who spent his time thinking about flowers. in fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d given or received any. his life was a blur of work, fixing things, and dodging unnecessary conversations with people who seemed determined to waste his time. but today was different.

he was in the middle of tinkering with his motorcycle in the garage when the doorbell rang. he wiped his hands on an old rag, irritated at the interruption, and walked to the front door. when he opened it, he was met with the sight of a delivery guy holding a large bouquet of flowers.

“logan?” the delivery guy asked, checking the label on his clipboard.

logan frowned. “yeah, that’s me. but i didn’t order any flowers.”

the delivery guy shrugged. “they’re for you. says so right here.”

logan took the bouquet, more out of confusion than anything else. the delivery guy left without another word, leaving logan standing in his doorway, staring at the vibrant arrangement of roses, lilies, and other blooms he couldn’t name if his life depended on it.

flowers. what the hell was he supposed to do with flowers?

as he stood there, holding the bouquet awkwardly, his thoughts drifted to you, his next-door neighbour. you were the opposite of him in almost every way - soft-spoken, kind, always with a smile that seemed to light up the whole street. you were also the only person he couldn’t seem to brush off with his usual gruff demeanour.

you were always around, whether it was in the garden, tending to your plants, or sitting on your porch reading a book. logan found himself drawn to you more often than he’d like to admit. you were the kind of person who noticed things, who asked how his day was going, who remembered the little details about him that no one else bothered with.

and he hated how much he liked that.

he wasn’t the kind of guy who had crushes, but there was something about you that made him want to be around you, even if he’d never admit it out loud. but the idea of acting on those feelings was ridiculous. he wasn’t good with emotions, and he sure as hell wasn’t good at relationships. he didn’t want to screw up the one thing that seemed to be going right in his life.

but as he stared at the flowers in his hand, he couldn’t help but think of you. maybe they were meant for you. it made more sense than them being for him.

logan grabbed the little card attached to the bouquet and squinted at the handwriting. the scrawl was barely legible, but he could make out the words “to my sunshine” and your name underneath it.

“shit,” logan muttered under his breath. it was exactly what he’d feared - a mix-up. he wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed that the flowers weren’t meant for him.

he knew he had to get them to you, but the thought of knocking on your door with a bouquet in hand made him feel like an idiot. still, he didn’t have much of a choice. he wasn’t going to let those flowers die in his living room just because he was too stubborn to walk a few steps next door.

with a resigned sigh, he walked over to your house and knocked on the door, the flowers still clutched awkwardly in his hand.

when you opened the door, your eyes lit up in surprise, and logan’s heart did a little flip in his chest.

“logan,” you greeted him with a warm smile, your eyes dropping to the bouquet. “are those… for me?”

logan cleared his throat, feeling uncharacteristically self-conscious. “yeah, i think there was a mix-up with the delivery. these were dropped off at my place, but they’re definitely for you.”

you reached out and took the flowers from him, your fingers brushing against his for the briefest moment. it was enough to send a jolt of electricity through him.

“they’re beautiful,” you murmured, bringing the bouquet up to your face to inhale the sweet scent. “thank you, logan. i didn’t expect this.”

he rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling out of his depth. “don’t mention it. they’re not from me, though. just… making sure they got to the right person.”

you nodded, but there was a flicker of something in your eyes, something he couldn’t quite read. “oh. i see.”

there was a moment of silence, one that stretched just a little too long for logan’s comfort. he was about to make some excuse to leave when you spoke again.

“would you like to come in for a bit? i was just about to make some tea.”

logan hesitated. he wasn’t much of a tea drinker, but the thought of spending more time with you was enough to make him say yes. “sure. why not?”

you stepped aside to let him in, and he followed you into the cosy warmth of your home. it was a stark contrast to his own place, which was more functional than welcoming. your living room was filled with soft cushions, bookshelves overflowing with novels, and the faint scent of vanilla in the air. it was the kind of place where someone like you belonged.

as you busied yourself in the kitchen, preparing the tea, logan found himself relaxing in your presence. you had that effect on him, a way of making him feel like he didn’t have to be on guard all the time.

“so, how’s the bike coming along?” you asked as you poured hot water into two mugs.

logan blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the question. it was such a simple thing, but the fact that you remembered what he was working on made his chest tighten in a way he wasn’t used to.

“almost done,” he replied, leaning against the counter. “just a few more tweaks and it should be good to go.”

“that’s great,” you said with a smile, handing him one of the mugs. “i’ve always admired how handy you are. you seem like the kind of person who can fix anything.”

logan snorted. “only if it’s mechanical. people, on the other hand… not so much.”

you chuckled softly. “well, you’ve done a good job of fixing my day. i really appreciate you bringing the flowers over.”

logan felt his ears warm at the compliment, and he quickly took a sip of the tea to cover his reaction. it was surprisingly good - sweet with a hint of something floral, not that he’d admit it.

“anytime,” he muttered, not trusting himself to say more without sounding like a complete idiot.

you both settled into an easy conversation, one that flowed naturally despite the fact that logan usually struggled with small talk. he found himself opening up more than he expected, sharing bits and pieces of his life that he normally kept to himself.

and the more you talked, the more he realized just how much he liked being around you. you were smart, funny, and you had a way of seeing through his tough exterior that both unnerved and intrigued him.

as the evening wore on, logan found it harder and harder to ignore the growing warmth in his chest. he knew it was more than just a crush, but he wasn’t sure what to do about it. he wasn’t used to feeling this way, and the idea of putting himself out there was terrifying.

but as he watched you laugh at one of his sarcastic comments, your eyes sparkling with genuine amusement, he knew he had to take the risk. for once in his life, he wanted to be honest about how he felt.

“hey,” he said, his voice gruff as he tried to find the right words. “about the flowers… i know they weren’t from me, but… would it be so bad if they were?”

you blinked, clearly taken aback by the question. “what do you mean?”

logan exhaled slowly, feeling like he was walking a tightrope with no safety net. “i mean… what if i wanted to give you flowers? not just because of a mix-up, but because i actually… care about you?”

the silence that followed felt like an eternity, and logan was convinced he’d made a huge mistake. but then you smiled, a slow, warm smile that made his heart skip a beat.

“i think that would be really nice,” you said softly, your voice tinged with a mix of shyness and affection. “because… i care about you too, logan. more than i’ve let on.”

logan’s chest tightened with a mix of relief and something much stronger. he wasn’t good at this - at being vulnerable, at putting his feelings out there - but with you, it didn’t feel as scary. it felt right.

“so… what now?” you asked, your voice uncharacteristically hesitant.

he stepped closer, closing the distance between you until you were both standing just inches apart. “how about we start with dinner? my treat. and… maybe after that, we can see where this goes.”

you nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “yeah. i’d like that.”

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

dinner was the start of something new, something that neither of you had fully expected but both of you were eager to explore. the easy conversation from earlier continued, only now there was an undercurrent of something deeper - an unspoken understanding that this was more than just a simple crush.

logan found himself drawn to your openness, the way you didn’t shy away from telling him how you felt, even when it made him squirm a little. it was refreshing, and it pushed him to be more honest with you, to let down some of the walls he’d built around himself.

he walked you home, and you stood outside your door for a second, hesitant to leave him. he picked up on it quickly and grabbed your hand in his much larger one. you felt his warm breath on your lips as he leaned in slowly, swerving to your ear last minute. 

“can i kiss you?”

you nodded quickly, and immediately felt his lips on yours, his hand coming up to tangle in your hair. he pulled away, eliciting a small gasp from you, one that he found very amusing.

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

over the next few weeks, you and logan fell into a comfortable rhythm. you spent more time together, whether it was at your place, his, or out and about in town. he found himself looking forward to those moments, even the small ones like sharing a cup of coffee in the morning or watching a movie on your couch.

the more time you spent together, the more logan realised just how much he wanted this - wanted you. he’d never been one for relationships, always seeing them as more trouble than they were worth, but with you, it was different. it didn’t feel like a burden; it felt like something he’d been missing without even realising it.

you had a way of making him feel seen, of making him feel like he wasn’t just some guy who fixed things and kept to himself. you made him feel like he was worth more than that, like he was someone who deserved to be cared for, even when he didn’t always believe it himself.

one evening, as you both sat on his porch watching the sunset, logan found himself reaching for your hand, his fingers lacing with yours. it was a simple gesture, but it felt significant, like he was finally letting himself be open to the possibility of something real.

you looked over at him, your eyes soft and full of affection. “i’m glad you’re here, lo.”

he squeezed your hand gently, his usual brusque demeanor softened by the warmth of your words. “me too.”

there was a pause, a comfortable silence that was filled with the unspoken understanding between you.

“i never thought i’d find myself in a relationship,” logan admitted, his voice low. “but… ’m glad it’s with you.”

you smiled, leaning your head on his shoulder. “me too. you’re more than i ever could have hoped for.”

logan felt his heart swell with something he hadn’t felt in a long time - contentment. for once, he wasn’t focused on what could go wrong or what he might screw up. he was focused on you, on the way your hand felt in his, and on the simple fact that he was happy.

and that was enough.

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

months passed, and what started as a tentative relationship grew into something solid, something that neither of you had expected but both of you cherished. logan found himself falling more and more for you every day, in ways that surprised him.

he loved the way you challenged him, the way you didn’t let him get away with his usual gruffness when it came to emotions. you pushed him to be better, to be more open, and he found that he didn’t mind it as much as he thought he would.

in return, you seemed to thrive on the stability he provided. logan wasn’t the most expressive guy, but he showed his care in other ways - in the way he made sure your car was always running smoothly, in the way he remembered the little things you liked, in the way he was always there when you needed him.

and then, one day, as you both sat on the couch watching a movie, logan realized just how deeply he had fallen for you. the thought scared him a little, but it also filled him with a sense of certainty he hadn’t felt before.

he turned to you, his heart pounding in his chest. “i love you.”

the words were simple, but they carried the weight of everything he felt. he wasn’t one to say things he didn’t mean, and he hoped you understood just how much those three words meant coming from him.

you looked at him, your eyes wide with surprise, and then a slow, radiant smile spread across your face. “i love you too, logan.”

logan let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, relief washing over him. he pulled you close, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. it wasn’t the first kiss you’d shared, but it felt like the most important one.

from that moment on, there was no going back. you and logan were in this together, and he knew he’d do whatever it took to make sure you both stayed happy. because for the first time in a long time, logan had found something worth holding on to - something real, something lasting, something that made all the tough times worth it.

and he wasn’t about to let it go.

[bethsvrse]

★ NIGHTMARES ★

PAIRING Logan Howlett x fem!mutant!reader

WARNINGS nothing at all, just cute n fluffy

Logan woke up in a cold sweat, his chest heaving as beads of sweat rolled down his forehead. Moonlight filtered through the window, casting soft light across the room the two of you shared at Charles Xavier’s School. The blankets were tangled around his legs, and he felt something sharp beneath his fingers, a dreaded realisation settling in his gut.

His claws were out.

“Shit,” he muttered, retracting them immediately. But his heart sank when he noticed the small tear in your shirt, a thin scratch marking your side. You stirred beside him, blinking sleepily.

“Logan?” you asked, concern already creeping into your voice. “What’s wrong?”

“I… I scratched ya,” Logan admitted, his voice tight with regret. He looked as though he was ready to beat himself up over it, his hand hovering, too afraid to touch you. “Had a nightmare… I didn’t mean—”

“It’s alright,” you cut him off gently, sitting up to face him. The scratch didn’t even sting. “Just a scratch. I’ve had worse.”

Your hand found his, your touch soft, reassuring. But Logan shook his head. “It ain’t fine,” he insisted, pulling his hand from your grasp, clearly still caught up in his worry. “What if I—next time—”

“You’re not going to hurt me, Logan,” you said firmly, seeing the doubt in his eyes. “Here, trust me.”

Gently, you took his hand, the one where his claws had just retracted. “What are ya doin’?” he asked, his eyes narrowing as he watched you closely.

“I want you to bring them out again,” you said calmly.

His eyes widened. “No,” he said gruffly. “I ain’t doin’ that.”

“Logan,” you squeezed his hand, offering him a soft smile. “Trust me. I can handle it. Please.”

He hesitated, his jaw clenched tight. But he could never say no to you for long. With a deep sigh, he relented, extending his claws slowly. The familiar snikt echoing in the room.

You gazed at the claws, gleaming in the moonlight. Deadly, yes, but still, there was something beautiful about them. Gently, you closed your eyes, focusing. A soft hum of energy flowed through you, connecting with the earth beneath. Slowly, tiny vines began to curl up his claws, delicate flowers blooming along the metal, softening their lethal appearance.

Logan stared in awe, the vines wrapping around his claws, their beauty a sharp contrast to the danger they represented.

“You’re somethin’ else,” he muttered, a smile tugging at his lips.

You grinned. "You're so much more than just your claws, alright? They don't mean a damn thing to me, or anyone who truly cares about you."

He looked down at the flowers and vines adorning his claws, the guilt and anger in his eyes fading. “I don’t deserve ya,” he murmured.

“Deserve me or not,” you whispered, leaning closer, “you’ve got me. And I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

You closed the gap between you, your lips brushing his softly before deepening the kiss. His claws retracted with a soft click, but the flowers and vines remained, scattered across the sheets.

[wadewnstonwilson]

needy logan headcanons for when you're busy with work || suggestion by @hiddenavenues

pairing: logan howlett (wolverine) x genderneutral!reader

author note: let me know if you guys want me to make this into an actual fic!! also would love to make more headcanons in the future featuring logan or wade so please feel free to drop me an ask!

logan is always finding excuses to be near you. whether you're at your desk or working late on a project, he’ll casually drop by to “check on you.” his presence is comforting but undeniably distracting, as he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, silently watching you with a smirk.

he knows what you like, so he starts bringing your favorite coffee or snack without being asked. it’s his way of saying, “i’m thinking about you,” but he never makes a big deal out of it. you finds little gifts like books, flowers, or even something practical you mentioned needing, left quietly in your space.

logan becomes extra touchy during this time. he’ll walk up behind you and rest his hands on your shoulders, rubbing away the tension, or casually brush a hand across your back. his hands linger just a bit longer than necessary, and there’s always a hint of possessiveness in his touch.

he'll randomly interrupt your work by stealing a kiss or ruffling your hair, knowing it gets a reaction out of you. if you try to shoo him away, he’ll grin and lean in closer, saying something teasing like, “you work too hard. take a break for me, darlin’.”

logan isn’t one for grand gestures, but he’ll leave handwritten notes in your workspace with short, gruff messages like, “missin’ you,” or “don’t forget to take a break.” sometimes they’re playful and flirty, other times they’re almost shy, revealing how much he hates being without your attention.

he takes on small tasks for you without you asking—picking up groceries, fixing something around the house, or even doing laundry. he doesn’t expect praise, but he secretly loves the idea that these small things might free up time for you to spend together.

despite all his gestures, there’s a simmering undercurrent of jealousy. if you mention spending time with someone else, logan’s demeanor will change slightly—his jaw tightens, and he might grip your hand a little harder. he doesn’t vocalize his jealousy much, but the possessiveness in his actions makes it clear.

when logan can’t have the your full attention, he’ll settle for watching you. his eyes follow your every move, as if committing every detail to memory. there’s an intensity in his gaze, a silent reminder of just how much he needs you.

whenever you do get a break, logan will immediately pull you into his arms, practically growling if you try to resist. he craves the physical connection, holding you tightly as if he’s making up for all the time you've been apart. he’s never been the type to ask for attention, but now, it’s obvious how much he needs it.

despite his rugged exterior, logan’s neediness shows a softer side. he’s not good with words, but you can tell he’s feeling a little insecure about being pushed aside. every gesture, touch, and note is his way of quietly saying, “miss you, need you.” even if he doesn’t say it out loud, the affection is constant and genuine.

[nor-4]

Formula 1 Incorrect Quotes with reader

F1IQ - Part Two

Y/n: You have issues Charles: Omg you noticed🥹❤️

Max: How tall are you? Yuki: Extremely. Thank you for asking

Lando, apologizing: . . .—-. - / … —.-. .-. -.- Y/n: What’s that? Lando: remorse code Y/n: I’m even angrier now

Lance: So girl what that mouth do Y/n: complain

Christian: Nice ass, sorry about the mental illness Toto: Thank you king

Y/n in drive to survive: If you’re ever losing an argument hit them with the “you just want me.” Max: I’m just saying you are in the wrong and you are yet still stubborn Y/n: you just want me Max: I do and now i need you to listen to me

Carlos: *wearing a turtle neck* Y/n: I heard in the internet that men who wear turtle neck are most likely to be a whore.

Y/n: Wtf people actually tell their crushes they like them???? Fernando: What the hell do you do? Y/n: i die? Lmao what kinda question…

Lewis: Bro. I am on my way

Lewis: Sorry for calling you bro you are my girlfriend and i love you

Y/n: I love you too brah

Daniel comforting max: Always here for you bro 🌹🌹🌹

Daniel: Those were flowers btw

Daniel: For our bromance

Y/n: Anyways see you in court

Lance: I get to see youu😍

Oscar: You're a reoccurring guest in my sleep

Y/n: are you in love with me

Oscar: i just see you when i sleep often

Y/n: because you are in love with me

Y/n: i am not normal about this man

Sebastian: You are not normal in general

Y/n: I need a relationship advice

Kimi: break up

Y/n: listen to me first

Y/n: You know you can open up to me anytime

Charles: Okay fine

Charles: Idrk how to explain it it's just i wish i was dead *Y/n liked this message*

Charles: Why the fuck did you like the message

Sebastian: Dinner is ready. Come down and eat.

Sebastian: bring down your lady friend

Y/n: ?? It's my friend charles. He's a boy

Sebastian: Gay. Christian thought it was a chick.

Y/n: well he has pretty face

Sebastian: Gay

Sebastian: Both of you come eat.

Lando: You heard a joke about gas lighter?

Carlos: no

Landos: yes you have

Carlos: No i haven't

Lando: You've literally heard it already

Carlos: I DONT KNOW

Lando: You're crazy

Y/n in drive to survive: Playing among us with a gay is really hard

Charles: Give me the code bitch

Y/n: Waitt

Y/n: SKSJHK

George: Omg what happened

Y/n: BITCH THAT'S THE CODE

Logan: You are really cute

Y/n: Thank youu, you too

Logan: So what do you like?

Y/n: murder

Y/n: Wait you like me??

Y/n: for my personality??

Yuki: i know I'm surprised too

Oscar: You are so annoying

Y/n: But you like me

Oscar: Doesn't make you less annoying

Y/n: So can we talk?

Lando: talk about what?

Y/n: about us

Lando: Why would you want to talk about United State

Lewis: that's it?

Lewis: You done bitching?

Y/n: That was just a warm up

George: THERE IS SO MANY SNACKS IN HERE

Y/n: WHAT SNACK

George: Like hot guys

George: NOT FOOD YOU FAT FUCK

Lance: How come you are abnormally nice to me lately

Y/n: what do you mean

Lance: You seem nicer than usual

Y/n: I'll punch you in the face if you want

Logan: What's up?

Y/n: about to have mental breakdown hbu?

Logan: in the middle of mental break down

Y/n: Why do we fight over stupid shit

Max: cause you say stupid shit

Y/n: baby are you flirting with me?

Logan: yes I'm trying

Logan: i dont even have an idea on what am i doing

[imtherain]

Dude the sex pollen fic is going to be absolutely wild and I can't wait till it's finished and posted

Sorry to say it's not posted just yet, I've been working on it all week, and let me tell you, it has gotten out of hand.

Last time I checked the word count it was almost 12k, idk if I am legally allowed to post something that long XD Maybe I'll break it into parts

Want a teaser? I have a teaser for you

When I stumbled along with him, he cursed at my slowness. He paused long enough to make a decision. His hand on my chin made me look at him, but I struggled to focus on his face when I saw him lick his dry lips. I wanted him to lick me like that. Gently, softly, thoroughly. “Stay with me a little longer, sweetheart, just gotta get to your room or I’ll have to fuck you out here in the hall,” Logan’s voice tried to remain light, as if it were a joke of some kind. But we both knew he would do exactly that if we didn’t get behind a door.

I could only whine, low in my throat, because the pain was blooming behind my eyes like solar flares. I wondered if it would kill me if left unchecked. I wondered if that would be better than giving in.

IDK when it'll be finished.... So please, take this gif of Logan being a snack to tie you over until I manage to post it. (I'm hoping that's soon)

ITS UP IF YOU WANT IT

[logansdoll]

ivy, l. howlett

typically saturdays are for relaxation... not treating car crash victims.

CW: canon typical violence, gore, guns, mutation, profanity, innuendos, mature themes, mentions of sex, y/n is very poison ivy-esque, jean grey exists but is not present, etc.

The longer you lived in the mansion, the quicker you realized you'd never get a true day to yourself again.

You tied up your hair with a heavy sigh, the click of your heels loud against the steady beep of the man's EKG.

Calmly, you glanced at the monitor, soft eyes combing over his QRS complex in an attempt to double check for any abnormalities.

His mutation was one you had never seen before, and you wanted to make sure it didn't affect the efficacy of your data.

Despite being a victim of a nasty car accident, his heartbeat, along with his many other vitals, were ones of a person with a perfect bill of health.

'A healing ability along with his claws?'

Looking up, you held your hand out to the small philodendron across the room, using your power to grow one of its stems and reach toward the table, grabbing the parts for a syringe and bringing it to you.

"Thank you, Phil," you hummed, carefully returning him to his pot.

What would really back up your hunch would be a blood sample...

Expertly, you assembled the injector, doing so with perfect ease as if you'd done it a hundred times before—which you had.

Once it was done, you gently slid your hand under his arm, turning it over to reveal the veins near the crease of his elbow.

You held the needle at the ready, just inches away from pricking his skin, before thoughtlessly glancing up at his face.

For about the sixtieth time in the hour.

'Damn...'

He was absolutely, positively gorgeous—the handsomest man you had ever seen.

Rugged, hunky features with sexy facial hair to match, paired with thick arms, delicious pectorals, and abs carved out of stone.

'You've had a chance to gawk... now back to business.'

Clearing your throat, you quickly shook yourself out of it, refocusing on the task at hand and pressing the needle against his skin.

Big mistake.

In an instant, he was awake and jumping off the table, the shock forcing you to drop the needle as he grabbed you, slinging his arm around your neck.

Eyes wide, you quickly reached out to Phil, the small plant quickly growing humongous right before your eyes.

The mystery man stared at it, brows furrowed in confusion, until one of its newly acquired vines shot straight for his head, forcing him to let go of you and dive out of the way.

Gasping for air, you thankfully clutched your throat, attempting to catch your breath as Phil's limbs chased the man out into the hall.

'The professor'll stop him from hurting anyone upstairs... hopefully Phil can grab him before then...'

Slowly starting to recover, you grasped the table's edge, using it to hoist yourself back up on your feet, grumbling to yourself about how rough he was.

Suddenly, the vines began to recede, one of them resting on your shoulder and blooming a flower.

"He made it to the elevator?" you parroted, turning to the plant and catching the blossom as it gracefully fell into your palm, reporting the new development.

You let out a knowing sigh, already able to foresee the scolding you were about to receive from the team's leader.

"Scott's gonna kill me..." 

Why did shit like this always happen to him?

It was beginning to become routine for Logan to wake up in unknown places, with people he's never seen before, yet people who seemed to know everything about him.

"I'm Charles Xavier. Would you like some breakfast?" the old man in the wheelchair asked, cool as a cucumber despite the strange man standing in his office.

"Where am I?" Logan asked, brows furrowed and eyes flicking around the room in an attempt to find some sort of clue.

"Westchester, New York," Xavier answered, wheeling out from behind his desk. "You were attacked. My people brought you here for medical attention."

"I don't need medical attention."

The old man made a small smile, "Yes, of course."

He seemed to have an answer for everything...

Suddenly, the memory of a little stowaway popped into Logan's head, reminding him of the precarious situation she was in.

"Where's the girl?" he asked again, still looking around.

"Rogue? She's here. She's fine."

"Really?"

Just then, the door opened, a woman with stark white hair strutting in with a man—who had the weirdest sunglasses in the world—at her side.

"Ah, Logan, I'd like you to meet Ororo Monroe, also called Storm," Xavier introduced, Ororo greeting him with a soft hello, "Along with Scott Summers, also called Cyclops."

Scott held out his hand to shake, but was met with a suspicious glare that held little to no warmth at all.

"They saved your life."

That is... until you came walking in after.

"And I believe you've already met Dr. (y/n) (l/n)."

His eyes flicked to yours, and there he saw the most beautiful woman he had seen in a long time—and trust, he had seen plenty.

The way your curls framed your face...

The way your clothes accentuated your figure...

The way your skin seemed to glow, despite being indoors...

You looked like you stepped out the pages of a beauty magazine, or the screen of a blockbuster movie.

'Damn...'

He wasn't one to stare, but you made it hard not to.

"You're in my school for the gifted. For mutants," Xavier continued, stealing away his attention. "You'll be safe away from Magneto."

"What's a Magneto?"

"A very powerful mutant who believes that a war is brewing between mutants and the rest of humanity. I've been following his activities for some time. The man who attacked you is an associate of his called Sabretooth."

"Sabretooth?" Logan raised a brow, amused.

The professor nodded, and Logan quickly turned to Ororo, pointing, "Storm," he clicked his tongue.

He faced Xavier again, donning what seemed like a rarely occurring smile.

"What do they call you? Wheels?" 

Letting out a dry laugh, he started toward the door, done with the conversation.

"This is the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

But Scott didn't move out of his way, instead standing firm in his place.

"Cyclops, right?" Logan grabbed him by the shirt, roughly. "You wanna get out of my way?"

"Logan, it's been almost fifteen years, hasn't it?" Xavier stopped him. "Living from day to day, moving from place to place, with no memory of who or what you are."

Logan whipped around, facing the professor with a sharp glare, "Shut up."

"Give me a chance... I may be able to help you find some answers."

"How do you know?"

On cue, Xavier's voice began to echo in his mind, whispering words that didn't seem to come out of his mouth.

'The hell...'

"What is this place?"

By the professor's powers of persuasion, he managed to calm Logan down, filling him in on everything about Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters and convincing him to compromise long enough for you to finish your tests.

Which was why he was now back on your work bench, staring up at you intensely as you removed the small, plastic patches from his skin.

"I'm sorry," he blurted, seemingly out of nowhere—but he honestly felt guilty for nearly strangling you to death.

You knew that... but you wanted to hear him say it.

"Sorry for what?" you asked, innocently, as you plucked off the last few.

"If I hurt you," he clarified, pointing to your neck.

Pleased, you gave him a warm nod, flashing a small smile before turning and starting up the MRI.

Maybe he wasn't so bad after all...

"So... you couldn't wait to get my shirt off again, huh?"

'Never mind.'

You glanced back at him, letting out a soft scoff at his gall before pressing the button and sending him sliding into chamber, abruptly.

Once he was fully in, you headed over to the viewing room next door, where the others waited for you to explain what they were seeing.

"The metal is an alloy called adamantium. Supposedly indestructible," you started, looking at the X-rays of his skeleton. "It's been surgically grafted to his entire skeleton."

"How could he have survived a procedure like that?" Ororo asked, concerned.

"His mutation," you answered. "He has uncharted regenerative capability, which enables him to heal rapidly."

You crossed your arms over your chest.

"This also makes his age impossible to determine. He could very well be older than you, Professor."

"Who did this to him?" Scott asked.

"He doesn't know, nor does he remember anything about his life before it happened."

"Experimentation on mutants," Xavier sighed, thoughtfully. "It's not unheard of... but I've never seen anything like this before."

"What do you think Magneto wants with him?" you asked, worried.

A face off with him would spell doom for Logan.

He could very well just rip the metal bones right out of him, form a skewer, and impale him with his own skeleton.

'Gross...'

The thought made your stomach churn.

"I'm not entirely sure it's him Magneto wants..."

[coco-loco-nut]

Fortnight

pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

summary: you were never cut out to be a WAG

a/n: guys i really like this one so i hope you love it too 🤍

masterlist ttpd masterlist

_______

“Oh my god, we need to get you help,” your best friend, Logan, gasps, walking in on you, three beers deep. You are sitting on the floor of your bedroom, Lando’s too when he’s actually home, the curtains closed, dirty clothes scattered on the floor. What he doesn’t know is that this is your normal.

“I’m fine,” you don’t even slur. Your phone is discarded to the side, beside the latest apology flowers given -shipped- to you by your supposedly loving boyfriend. You haven’t picked up his last couple calls, so he sent your friend to check in.

“Come on, get up and shower while I clean all this, and you call Lando after,” Logan sighs, pulling you off the floor as you finish the beer.

You begrudgingly walk to the bathroom, your friend setting out a fresh change of clothes. “Just, don’t tell Lando. He’s stressed enough,” you tell him, closing the door once you get a confirmation.

Twenty minutes later, you are sitting on the edge of the sink, phone ringing.

“Babe, are you okay, you haven’t been answering?” Lando asks, his worried voice makes a pit in your stomach.

“Lan, I’ve just been a little busy, that’s all. Sorry for worrying you. Are you okay?” despite him being the reason the reason for your recent state, you don’t want him to be hurt.

You miss breaks, when he would be with you all the time, now it seems like you only see each other in passing, like good neighbors who make that corny comment about the weather.

Lando finds you in a similar position as your friend did, except this time you are crying on the floor, not drunk. He got a couple free days off and is eager to spend them with you.

“Darling, what happened?” he kneels down beside you, his voice making you cry harder. “Baby,” his voice and heart breaks as you look up at him, mascara running down your cheeks.

“I-,” you gas for air. “I love you, Lando. It’s ruining my life,” each sob breaks his heart.

“No, no. Don’t say that,” he pleads, wiping the tears from your eyes.

“Do you know the longest amount of time we’ve spent together? 14 days, a fortnight. I can’t keep doing this. The apology gifts for missed moments, the quick phone calls that are hardly passable for time spent together,” you pause to catch your breath, the tears still flowing. “I can’t do this, Lando. I miss home, I miss America,” your eyes meet his, both of you broken.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize you were struggling this much,” he whispers, sitting down and pulling you into him.

“I didn’t want to worry you,” you look away, the feeling of him foreign.

“I’m off the next couple days, let’s work on us,”

“Lando-,”

“And I’ll bring you to more races even though I know you find it hard to get off of work,”

“Lando-,”

“Please don’t say it,” he whispers, kissing you. Another foreign feeling.

“I’m moving back to America, tomorrow,” you tell him, feeling like you’ve hit absolute rock bottom. Lando looks around the bedroom, realizing the only thing of yours left was your packed suitcase in the corner.

“Were you going to tell me?” he asks, your eyes not able to meet his.

“I was going to visit you in Woking tonight,” the silence that falls between you is deafening. You spend the night in separate rooms, and in the morning he insists on driving you to the airport. He gets out of the car, pulling your suitcase out for you.

“Please don’t go,” he asks one last time, the both of you crying.

“I have to, Lando. It’s what’s best for both of us,” you step closer to him.

“Winter break is almost here, please, just a little longer. This isn’t what’s best for me,” Lando says, pulling you into a tight hug.

“I love you, Lan, but you deserve someone who can be with you at each race and support you more than I can,” you tell him, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“You are always enough for me, I love you,” he cries.

“Please, Lan, I have to put myself first,” you grab your luggage handle and take a step back.

“I won’t block your number, if you ever need anything or are in London, call me, I’ll be there at the drop of a hat,” Lando says, his tear stained cheeks glistening in the sun. His offer is a complete change to how your relationship was.

“Goodbye, Lando,” you turn around, walking into the airport. You hand covers your mouth as you sob, refusing to turn back and look at an equally distressed Lando.

You refuse to check social media, only texting your family and Logan when you land in Miami. You knew Logan from karting before you quit, and he became your closest friend. He offered his apartment in Miami to you until you buy your own.

You quickly got a job and moved to Destin, a whole 9 hours away from Miami, 11 from Austin. Florida is treating you a lot nicer, but you feel stuck in an endless February. You took the magic move on pill that is relocating, but it doesn’t seem to be working. You changed your phone number when you got back to the US, and deleted your social media apps. Lando tried calling you and DM-ing you, but never got a reply.

“I will fly you down, please just come and support me. I need you at my home race,” Logan begs, wanting you to take a two week vacation to spend time with him in Miami and Fort Lauderdale. Something deep inside you agreed, so you pack your bags and hit the road, electing to drive.

You arrive the Wednesday before race week, and stay until the Wednesday after race week. It is nice because you can visit your own family too.

“I got you a paddock pass,” Logan says as you both lay on the beach the day you got in.

“Lo, I can’t go back there,” you turn your head to look at him.

“You can stay in Williams, you don’t have to go visit Oscar when I do,” Logan says, referencing the Australian who is also staying with Logan. Oscar promised he wouldn’t tell Lando you were in town.

“You know, I can get you a much nicer car than your Mercedes,” Oscar says, sitting beside you. Logan gets up to grab two waters.

“A McLaren? Not my thing, I hated driving,” you can’t even bring yourself to say his name. “Yeah, but I do love my car, I always wanted it,” you say.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” Oscar leans over, bumping you with his shoulder.

“It’s okay, I know you didn’t. It’s still hard. Sometimes I think about calling him, but he won’t pick up. I have a new number and he has a new girl from what Logan said,” you admit.

“He’s miserable, he will never admit it, but he is. He hasn’t been the same since you left, but you seem to be doing a lot better. You have color back in your skin and you aren’t drinking all the time,” Oscar says, knowing what state you were in when Lando called Logan to check in on you. You were a functioning alcoholic, barely functioning at that point.

“Yeah, this was the right decision. Maybe it’s best if I don’t call Lando. Even if he is miserable, it might make things worse. I can’t get back together with him, but I want him to be okay,” you tell Oscar. What you don’t know is that Lando is renting the beach house beside the one you, Logan, and Oscar are staying in for the two weeks. He is jealous about how happy you seem with his teammate and your best friend.

You figure it out when you take a midnight walk, clad in a sweater with your university’s logo on it.

“Lando, hi,” you breathe, taking him in.

“Hey, you look really good. I like the sweater,” he shifts his weight in the sand. You look healthier, happier, and it kills him.

“I, um, changed my phone number and deleted my social media apps,” you say, answering the question he didn’t want to ask.

“I tried dating again, but I broke it off, I couldn’t do it,”

“Sorry, I should’ve thought about how I would hurt you,” you say, looking at your feet in the sand.

“No, you needed to do it. I don’t blame you, I was basically abandoning you,” Lando says, silently inviting you to join him on the walk. It becomes a habit, you join him every night.

“Congrats on the win,” you hug him on night 11. It was a silent agreement that you would go your separate ways again after the two weeks.

“Where are you living now?” Lando asks on night 14, both of you sitting in the sand between the two houses.

“Destin, Florida. I bought an apartment that used to be a timeshare,” you say, watching the waves.

“That’s pretty close, right?”

“Nine hours, Lan. other side of the state,” you smile, trying not to laugh. Lando’s heart flutters at the way you say his nickname, but squashes it.

“Oh, well I’m glad you were able to come down and support Logan,” he says, yawning a little.

“Alright, I have to wake up early to drive home,” you stand up, brushing the sand off of your legs.

“Drive safe,” Lando hugs you, finally feeling healed.

“Goodbye, Lan,” you whisper.

“Goodbye,” he whispers back, capturing the look of you in his mind.

[awxcoffeexno]

the patient - part 3

toxic!loganhowlett x reader

sunlight

<< part 2 | series masterlist | fic masterlist | part 4 >>

summary: you realise that happiness can be found elsewhere.

content: bobby takes the reader to prom and it's painfully cute. logan's kinda there but we hate logan rn.

warnings: none

word count: 1.8k

a/n: i kinda sorta accidentally made myself fall in love w bobby as i wrote this??? he's such a cutie patootie,

you sit in front of the mirror, concealing your under eyes when bobby knocks on your door.

"c'mon in!" you chirp, surprised your voice still sounds light after having cried endlessly for days.

he's holding a giant bouquet, one so big you see it walk in before you see him. it makes you let out a surprised but genuine laugh.

"aren't you supposed to bring me a corsage? that's too many flowers." you smile and he sets the bouquet down next to you, leaning against your dresser.

"true, but I'd much rather let you pick which one you like best. not to mention..." he looks you up and down, smile widening involuntarily. "you look absolutely stunning."

that's when you feel it settle in your heart. you might not love him but bobby will make you feel on top of the world. it's his thoughts and his determination that confirms it to you. he'll have it no other way.

bobby's a good guy. and all of his attention is singularly on you. haven't you been so desperate to receive the same from logan? maybe you've just been looking for it in the wrong person.

you swallow that thought, hoping it stays in your belly. he pulls out a white carnation and a tulip from the bouquet, giving you a choice. you point at the carnation and he fashions it into a corsage around your wrist.

you stand up from your vanity, smoothing the dress down one last time, and bobby offers you his hand, his smile warm and genuine. he looks at you with such admiration that it almost makes you forget the ache of the last few days. almost.

the two of you make your way down the hallway and the stairs, the yellow glow of the lights warm and comforting. the prom is being held in the grand ballroom just down the hall. the entire mansion seems to hum with excitement, students and teachers in their finest attire.

as you approach the entrance to the ballroom, the sound of music and laughter grows louder. bobby’s hand is steady in yours, grounding you in the moment. you try to focus on him, on the kindness in his eyes, on the way he looks at you like you’re the only person in the room. he’s everything you should want, everything you deserve.

but you can’t shake the feeling that someone is watching you. you feel logan’s gaze on you before you even see him. it’s like a magnetic pull, one that you wish you could ignore, but can’t.

when you finally glance up, there he is, leaning against the wall just outside the ballroom, his arms crossed over his chest. he’s dressed in his usual attire – jeans, a worn leather jacket –looking completely out of place among the sea of formal wear. but his eyes, those intense, piercing eyes, are locked on you.

you swallow hard, forcing yourself to keep walking, to not give in to the urge to turn around and confront him. bobby notices the tension, his grip on your hand tightening just slightly, but he doesn’t say anything. he just keeps walking beside you, leading you into the ballroom.

the grand space is decked out in shimmering lights and decorations, and you and your peers have worked hard to take it to this from the usual training sessions and meetings that take place here. the music is lively, the laughter infectious, and for a moment, you allow yourself to get lost in it. bobby twirls you onto the dance floor, his smile widening as he sees your hesitation begin to fade.

"you're so pretty, you know?" he whispers, leaning in so you can hear him over the noisy crowd. "i want to make this special for you."

he makes you blush so easily, you'd be head over heels for him in a second if you were normal.

"is it a bit late to point out that i can't dance for shit?" you say sheepishly but his grin in response is so wide it almost makes your heart falter.

"no problem. i can."

and shit, he's good. ice skating, he explains as he leads you through the waltz. he used to ice skate as a child – which is quite fitting for the Iceman – and the image is rather sweet, little bobby dancing across the ice in his little costume.

nothing about him feels little right now though as he twirls you around. you often find yourself holding your breath when he pulls you close, leaning down, his cool breath ghosting your lips.

finally the dance ends, and he looks at you with such brilliance in his eyes you wonder what you've done to deserve this attention from him. you just need to commit and dive in headfirst.

"bobby?"

"yeah?"

"can you kiss me?"

his suave exterior breaks as the sweetest pink colours his cheeks. he gently tips your jaw up and leans down, pressing a cool, feather-light kiss to your lips. it doesn't surprise you how he tastes of peppermint, a stark contrast to the tobacco and–

no. you refuse to think about him. absolutely not.

you quickly kiss him again and thank him for the lovely dance, giggling when he kisses your knuckles in response.

for the next hour, you do your best to enjoy the evening. you laugh with your friends, dance again with bobby, and try to push logan out of your mind. but every time you think you’ve succeeded, you catch a glimpse of him standing by the door, watching you, and your heart clenches all over again.

eventually, bobby steps away to grab some drinks, leaving you alone for a moment. you glance around the ballroom, taking in the glittering scene, but your eyes are drawn back to logan. he’s still standing there, still watching you with that unreadable expression.

before you can stop yourself, you find your feet moving toward him, your heart pounding in your chest. you tell yourself that you just want to get this over with, to find out what he wants so you can move on with your night, but deep down, you know it’s more than that. it always is with logan.

when you reach him, you stop, crossing your arms over your chest in a defensive posture. “what are you doing here, logan?”

you try and fail to read his mind. he's been blocking you out for a while now and he's clearly getting better at it.

he looks at you, his eyes dark and intense. “just keeping an eye on things.” he fucking hated that kiss for himself but knows that it was good for you.

“on what, exactly?” you challenge, your voice sharper than you intended and that makes him falter. “you said you wouldn't come without jean.”

“i did,” he admits, his gaze flickering to the dance floor where bobby is laughing with a group of students. “but i like seeing you happy.”

the sincerity in his voice catches you off guard, and for a moment, you don’t know what to say. you want to be angry with him, to tell him to leave you alone, but the way he’s looking at you makes it hard to breathe.

“logan, you can’t just—” you start, but he cuts you off, stepping closer.

“i was wrong, okay? about what i said before. about a lot of things.” his voice is low, filled with a regret that tugs at your heartstrings.

you narrow your eyes, trying to hold on to your resolve. “that’s not an apology.”

“no, it’s not,” he agrees, taking another step closer. “but i’m tryin' to fix this. i don’t know how, but i’m gonna try.”

you’re torn between the part of you that wants to walk away and the part that’s been waiting to hear these words for what feels like forever. you look up at him, your heart aching with confusion and longing.

“you really hurt me, logan,” you whisper, your voice trembling.

“i know,” he says softly, reaching out to gently take your hand. “and i’m sorry. i never wanted to hurt you, but i did. and i’ll spend as long as it takes making it up to you if you let me.”

no. you cannot let him do this. not just yet. it isn't fair that you should suffer for a week alone and then just let him stride back into your life.

you pull your hand back, shaking your head. “no, logan.”

he looks at you, confused. a minute passes before he manages to find his words.

“what do you mean, no?” of course he isn't used to hearing that word from your mouth. you've never uttered it to him before.

“i mean no,” you repeat, firmer this time. “you don’t get another chance to hurt me. you don’t get to play with my feelings and then expect me to just forgive you because you’ve decided it’s convenient now.”

his eyes darken, the regret in them shifting to something harder, more defensive. “i’m trying to make things right.”

“and i’m telling you, it’s too late,” you say, your voice strong despite the way your heart is breaking. but when you think back to how easy it felt with bobby, you continue, “you don’t get to do this to me again. i deserve better, logan. i deserve someone who sees me, who wants me, who doesn’t need to lose me to realise what they had.”

he stares at you, his jaw clenched, his eyes searching yours for any sign of weakness. but you stand your ground, refusing to let him see how much this is killing you inside.

“you can’t mean that,” he finally says, his voice low, almost pleading.

“i do,” you say, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. “i’m done, logan. i’m done letting you hurt me.”

for a moment, it looks like he’s going to argue, to push back and try to convince you otherwise. but then something in his expression shifts, and he steps back, the fight draining out of him.

“fine,” he mutters, turning away. “if that’s what you want.”

“it is,” you whisper, more to yourself than to him.

without another word, he walks away, disappearing down the hallway, leaving you standing there with your heart in pieces.

you take a deep breath, blinking back the tears that threaten to spill. you can’t break down now. not here, not when bobby is waiting for you.

when you return to the ballroom, bobby is there, holding two cups of punch and flashing you a bright smile. “hey, you okay?”

you force a smile, taking the cup from him. “yeah, i’m fine.”

but as you look into his kind eyes and lean up to press a quick kiss on his lips, you realize that now you're doing the exact same thing to him that logan's done to you.

well, shit.

--

yayayayay we love reader standing up for herself and not taking logan's bs anymore. also, isn't bobby the sweetest?

i really hope this checked off a few of the requests y'all had. i had sm fun writing this. also praying I haven't missed anyone off the taglist.

love, d <3

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<< part 2 part 4 >>

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[pumpkin-cake]

Family Man Farmer Logan (2)

dad!logan x fem!reader

YIPPIE part two!!!! thank you and credit to @mega-kittyglitter-1 for the idea of bringing wade in :)

i've also just decided to name the kid because i don't like referring to her as 'your daughter' so yeah

divider credit to @cafekitsune

part one

warnings: wade breaks the fourth wall

Logan held your daughter, Jean, as the two walked towards the stables. She messed with his beard hairs while they did so, to which Logan ignored.

"You remember the rules when we feed the horses?" He asked, his gruff voice holding softness to it as he brought her to the small stable he'd built along with several other buildings on the farm.

"Listen to what Daddy says." Jean repeated a bit vaguely, and he chuckled.

"Yes, listen to what I say. You gotta be easy with 'em. I know you're so excited to see 'em but loud noises can scare 'em." He explained, grabbing a bag of apples he kept around. The horses had grass and hay and the such inside the stable, but Jean liked feeding them applies, so he'd indulge her.

"But they're so much bigger than me!!!" She exclaimed incredulously.

"I know, but you're much louder than 'em sometimes." He chuckled, heading to one of the pens where a chestnut colored horse with flowers in her mane (courtesy of you and Jean), who was named Indy. She was the nicer one compared to her brother, Bishop. He was a bit challenging, more likely to fight with Logan. He was usually a good boy, though. Logan was a fierce man, able to establish boundaries and get some mutual respect going on between the two.

One time, Bishop had tried to nip at Jean when she was a baby. You'd never seen Logan so angry with an animal. He of course understood that the horse had been offended and maybe a bit frightened by Jean patting his nose with no warning, but the thought of anything or anyone hurting his girl was enough to make him fume.

Logan held Jean up, as she was nowhere near tall enough to reach the horses on her own. "You know what to do." He said softly, not too worried about Indy hurting Jean, but he was always careful when it came to his babygirl.

Jean carefully and slowly reached out with a big smile on her face, holding the apple in the palm of her hand. Indy made a happy snort and ate the apple whole, cronching on it loudly. Jean giggled infectiously, looking at Logan as she reached out to pet the horse.

"You're good, babygirl." He assured her, glad that Jean was so obedient when it came to this stuff. She was stubborn like her parents but neither of you played around when it came to her safety.

Jean gently began to stroke Indy's snout, a big grin on her face while she did so. Logan held her there for a while, until Jean pulled on his flannel to lead her over to Bishop. Luckily, she didn't have any bad memories of the horse trying to bite her, so she wasn't too afraid.

"Same thing, babygirl. Nice and easy." Logan hummed, giving her an apple to offer to the bigger horse. With no fear, she held out the apple to the horse, smiling innocently. Bishop hesitated, but did lean forward and take the apple from her hand. Logan nodded, pleased. "There we are, was that fun?" He asked Jean, who nodded happily as she carefully pet Bishop as well.

"Daddy, can we go pick flowers for Mommy?" She asked.

"That sounds like a great idea, baby." He chuckled, letting her say goodbye to Indy and Bishop before taking her out to the field of flowers that you mainly took care of. Logan was the handy man, dealing with the animals and any heavy lifting. He set her down, and she immediately went running to get the perfect amount of flowers.

God was he glad his daughter got to grow up in a space like this. If she was a mutant, it hadn't developed yet. If she was, he'd be even more grateful. She wouldn't have to worry about anybody trying to hurt her. You and him had the tools to homeschool her if necessary, and she had a big wide open space for growing and developing and learning.

His little daydream was interrupted by the crackling sound of a vehicle on the dirt road coming to the farm. His eyebrows furrowed, and groaned when he spotted the man inside the car. He forgot that Wade Wilson was dropping off a couple things per your request. You and Wade got along way better than Logan did with him. Wade always offered to babysit but Logan didn't trust him alone with Jean for even a minute.

Jean looked up and her brows furrowed just like his when she saw the car park and a strange man get out of the car. She dropped the flowers and booked it to Logan's legs, hugging them and watching.

Wade chuckled. "There's the wolfie! Look at you, a farm boy!" He cheered, a box underneath his arm. "The wifey wanted some rare flower seeds that little ol' me got for her! Oh! I'm getting your wife flowers!!!! You need to step it up, peanut!" He rambled, heading over.

Logan felt Jean's grip on his denim jeans tighten, and oh god her face. It was an exact copy of his scowl. He huffed, gently putting his hand on the back of Jean's head to comfort her. "I built this whole place for her. Now shut the f- shut up." He corrected himself. You didn't like it when he swore in front of Jean.

"Speaking of peanuts! It's your spawn!" He did crouch down, hoping that Jean wouldn't be too scared of his face. "I'm Wade Wilson, has your mommy told you about me? Daddy probably hasn't, he isn't as nice as your mommy."

Actual crickets around the grass punctuated Jean's silence.

"Oof, tough crowd. Daddy's girl, huh?" He said with a chuckle, a bit unnerved at how goddamn similar she was to him. He'd seen that scowl on a much older face plenty of times.

"Go on inside, she's in there." Logan said, not appreciating the fact that Jean was just as snarky towards this guy. Little kids did have good instincts, not to mention she was his daughter.

Wade held up his hands in surrender. "Alright alright, I'll let you have some more daddy-daughter time. The author needs it for his daddy issues." He said, heading inside to greet you.

"Who was that man?" Jean asked, the scowl still on her face.

"A friend of mommy's, like he said." Logan sighed as she let go of him.

"He's annoying." She huffed, going and collecting the flowers she had put down. Logan couldn't help but laugh out loud. She sure was his daughter.

"He sure is. Let's go bring these to Mommy."

[thebestandworstdayofjune]

Hii ignore this if you don't want to do it ! But I was hoping something like logan regretting saying/doing something that hurt the reader and him trying to win her over (maybe after the events of deadpool and wolverine) THANKYOUUUU💖

Hi!! Thank you so much for your request! I started writing it and it got a little away from me. The full thing should be ready tomorrow or the next day, but I wanted to give you a little sample in the meantime! For context, reader owns a flower shop down the street from Wade and Al’s (and now Logan’s, I guess) apartment. He said something that he meant as a compliment that reader took as an insult and he is bad at groveling. Hope you enjoy! (Also if anyone would like to be tagged in the finished fic, please feel free to reply to this post!)

You hated to admit it, but the image of him standing in the middle of your showroom, shoulders slumped with of the most regretful looks you’d ever seen on anyone was enough for you to forgive him on sight. But, he didn’t have to know that. “Who else did you piss off?” You asked, arranging a few more pieces of greenery into the bouquet he had requested. Even if you were frustrated and moody, you couldn’t bring yourself to make something you weren’t proud of. “Don’t know that there’s anyone else I would care to apologize to with flowers, sweetheart.” You froze, not only at the pet name, which was new. But at the implication as well.

“Are you telling me that you waltzed in here and asked me to make my own apology flowers?” If you hadn’t already decided he was off the hook, the way his mouth turned down into a little pout would have sealed the deal. He hesitates for a few moments, eyes glancing around the shop seemingly in search of an answer. “Didn’t want to give the business to someone else.” He shrugged, bashfully, tucking his hands into his pockets.

Against your better judgement, a few giggles slipped past your lips, which had been firmly pressed together. A few more, and then you were laughing so hard you were having trouble breathing. Your hand clutched at your chest, flowers forgotten on your workbench. “I can’t believe this,” you gasped, wiping a few tears away that had spilled onto your cheeks. You grinned through the tears, moving around the table to stand in front of him.

“Could have been worse,” he shrugged, mischief making his eyes sparkle. “Could have gone with Wade’s suggestion.”

edit: find the full fic here!