#Logan Howlett imagine

[flowersforbucky]

i got it bad

logan howlett x reader (worst!logan x reader)

word count: 4.9k

summary/prompt: logan can't help that he has super hearing and overhears you - wade's seemingly sweet, shy neighbor - telling vanessa what you fantasize about doing to him. believing that you won't ever act on it, he takes matters into his own hands.

or - getting yourself off on logan's abs

warnings/tags: smut, 18+ only mdni, reader is afab, no use of y/n, logan's pov, porn with a little plot, male masturbation, teasing, nipple/breast play, some tit slaps, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, cream pie

Ever since Logan first met you, he hasn’t been able to get you out of his fucking head.

Which is really unfortunate for him, considering you seem indifferent to his existence.

Wade says that you're just an introvert, and that it takes you a while to get comfortable around new people, but after living across the hallway from you for the last few months, Logan is sure that you have no interest in him outside of simple, polite conversation whenever the two of you run into each other.

He first notices you from across the room when you enter Wade and Althea's apartment – his apartment now, too, he supposes. The small space is crowded, but you're impossible for him to overlook. He instantly recognizes you from the polaroid picture that Wade had showed him in the Void.

You’re greeted by Vanessa, who kisses you on the cheek and shoves a drink in your hand before dragging you over to where Logan is listening to Wade and Althea bicker about – what were they bickering about again? All he can focus on is the way your dress hugs your curves and the lipstick imprint that you’ve left on the champagne flute in your hand.

He needs to get out more. Go to a bar, get a job, maybe even try out one of those dating apps that Vanessa has suggested to him – something to get him out of this fucking apartment that he's stayed holed up in since arriving in this universe, because he should not be this flustered by a complete stranger.

“Earth to Peanut,” Wade snaps his fingers in front of Logan’s face. He barely processed anything Vanessa had said while she introduced you. Blah blah, neighbor, something something, lives down the hallway. “Jesus, did you get into the white powder under the floorboard? Your pupils are as big as saucers right now.”

“Oh, go easy on him, Wade,” Althea scolds. “It’s natural for pupils to dilate when looking at a pretty girl.”

The expression on your face matches how Logan feels – surprised, embarrassed, slightly mortified.

“You don't even know what she looks like. She could look like me for all you know,” Wade snorts.

“She brings me homemade cookies and she always smells good,” Al retorts. “I don't need to be able to see her to know that she's pretty.”

“Nice to meet you,” Logan finally speaks up with a forced smile. Leave it to his two roommates to make a simple introduction as awkward as possible. “And no, I am not high on cocaine,” he adds with a pointed glare at Wade.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Logan,” you return the sentiment with a chortle and shy smile. “And don’t worry, I never pay attention to anything Wade says.”

Yukio and her girlfriend with the long ass name that Logan has yet to memorize then walk up and gain your attention, leaving Logan wishing he could redo the entire interaction.

He spends the rest of the night hoping for an opportunity to talk to you again, and feeling disappointed when that doesn’t happen.

The next couple of months go similarly. He runs into you frequently – in the elevator, and the communal laundry room of the apartment complex, and when you’re both checking your mail at the same time.

You always greet him with a smile and ask the typical casual conversation questions – how he's liking his new job (he’s not, but he tells you it’s going fine), if Wade is staying out of trouble (no), and how Laura is doing (she’s doing great, actually), but it never progresses much past that.

As soon as the conversation starts to venture into more personal territory, you seem to shut down. You’ll make some excuse about having somewhere to be, wish him a good day, and then you’re gone.

He can’t help himself. He sees how carefree and talkative you can be with Vanessa and hell, even Wade – and he wants that. At least then he may feel a little less crazy for spending so much of his free time racking his brain for ways to get closer to you.

Maybe it’s because it has been so long since he’s had a crush on anyone, but sometimes he thinks he might be losing his mind with how often he thinks of you – your smile, your eyes, your scent, your voice, and the way that having a five minute conversation with you always leaves him feeling for the rest of the day.

That’s why when he’s walking to his apartment one evening, and hears his name come from inside your apartment, he stops dead in his fucking tracks.

God, he knows he shouldn’t listen. He knows he should keep walking, go into his apartment and close the door.

But it’s not like he has his ear pressed up against your door. It’s not his fault that he has super hearing and that the apartment building has paper thin walls.

His brain is yelling at his feet to move but they stay planted firm right where they are.

“He thinks you don’t like him, you know,” Vanessa says. Logan doesn’t need to be able to see to know that there’s a smirk on her face.

He’s tempted to cause some kind of commotion in the hallway and then dash into his apartment, just to stop Vanessa from saying whatever the hell she’s about to say.

“Logan?” You sound appalled. “Of course I like him.”

“I know that you like him,” Vanessa chuckles. “But I can see why he would think otherwise. You act like you can barely stand to be in the same room as the guy for five minutes.”

“That’s not true.” Your voice shoots up several octaves higher than normal.

Logan sends a silent prayer to whoever the fuck is listening that no one walks down this hallway in the next few minutes and sees him standing still as a statue next to your apartment door.

“It’s not that I simply can’t stand to be in the same room as him,” you continue, lowering your voice back down to its normal volume. “It’s that being in the same room as him makes me want to jump his adamantium bones.”

For a second, he really believes that his two hundred year old heart might stop beating.

“I’m fucking pathetic around him,” you huff. “Last week, I saw him pull his t-shirt off in the laundry room to put a clean one on, and ever since then I haven’t been able to stop thinking about grinding my pussy against his abs. Something is seriously wrong with me, Nes.”

But Logan doesn’t hear Vanessa’s response, because he speed walks away while she’s still cackling. By some miracle, Wade isn’t home, so Logan darts past Althea and locks himself in the bathroom.

What the fuck, Jesus Christ, and holy shit all play on a loop in his mind while he tries to ignore the bulge that has quickly formed in his jeans.

The last words he expected to hear anyone say today were jump his adamantium bones and grinding my pussy against his abs – but the fact that he heard those words come from your mouth in your sweet voice has his cock throbbing so hard that he can't think of anything other than you doing exactly what you’ve been fantasizing about.

Images of you straddling him with your bare, wet cunt rubbing against his happy trail, getting yourself off on his body as he plays with your pretty tits –

He let’s out an audible growl and rips the shower curtain open before turning on the water – straight to his normal hot temperature, too. He knows a cold shower isn't going to do him any good right now.

Standing beneath the hot stream, he thinks of what has transpired in the last five minutes and strokes himself in his hand until warm, white liquid follows the water down the drain.

When he finishes, he stills hears your voice in his mind and gets hard again within minutes.

••••••

Logan hasn’t seen you in three days. Three days might not seem like a long time to go without seeing your neighbor, but it feels like a long fucking time for him. In fact, it’s the longest he’s gone without casually running into you since he first met you months ago.

There’s a reason for this, though – he hasn’t checked his mail in days, hasn’t taken any of his laundry down to the basement in days, and has generally tried to avoid leaving his apartment as much as he can out of fear that he’ll see you. He even went as far as to pretend to be napping when you came by with some fresh baked brownies for Althea yesterday.

He wants to see you, of course. Goddamn, does he want to see you. But after overhearing your conversation with Vanessa earlier this week, he doesn’t know if he’s strong enough to look you in the eye and pretend like he hasn't been making himself cum to the thought of you on top of him every time he takes a shower.

But after three days, he finds himself missing you too much to keep up his attempt at distancing himself from you.

What if he’s being ridiculous, staying cooped in this apartment to avoid you? What if you’re just down the hallway, thinking about him at the same time he’s thinking of you?

He's tidying up the kitchen when he sees the pink Tupperware container that you’d brought the brownies in yesterday sitting in the sink. The brownies were long gone – they’d all been eaten by him, Wade and Al within the same hour that you brought them over.

Taking the Tupperware back to you would be the nice, neighborly thing to do, right?

With Al already retired to her bedroom for the evening, and Wade out with Vanessa, he takes it upon himself to wash and dry the container.

It’s a Friday night, so he knows there’s a chance that you’ve got plans and might not even be home, but he still takes a few minutes to fix his hair and swipe some deodorant on before walking down the hallway towards your apartment.

As he approaches your door, he realizes that you are home. There’s light spilling from the crack at the bottom of the doorframe and he can hear low music playing inside. A mix of anxiety and anticipation sets in, but he clears his throat and knocks on your door before he can chicken out.

He hears your footsteps approaching and attempts to wipe any sign of nervousness from his face – he’s just returning your Tupperware, for Christ's sake.

“Logan,” you breathe as you open the door. “I haven’t seen you in a few days,” you greet him. He can’t help but relax at the smile that grows on your face when you realize it’s him. “What are you up to this evening?”

You lean against your doorframe, and Logan has to force himself to maintain eye contact. You’re wearing a matching pajama set – a cute pair of velvet shorts and tank top that shows more of your skin than he’s ever seen before.

“I – uh,” he stammers, holding out the Tupperware container to you. “I just thought I’d bring this back to you. They were great, by the way.”

Your smile spreads to your eyes at his compliment.

“Oh, thanks,” you beam. “I’m glad you got to have one. Wade told me that you were asleep when I came by yesterday so I figured he’d have them eaten by the time you woke up.”

“I’m sure he would have, but Al made him save one for me,” he laughs.

He tries to focus on the conversation at hand, but the fact that you look fresh out of the shower definitely isn’t fucking helping. Bare faced with the scent of your body wash and lotion on your skin, his thoughts begin to stray into dangerous territory fast.

“I don’t wanna interrupt your night, though. I’ll let you get back to—”

“You’re not,” you say quickly as he begins to step backwards. “You're not interrupting. Are you doing anything tonight? I just ordered a pizza and there’s plenty. I was gonna watch a movie, if you want…” You trail off, glancing back and forth between him and your apartment behind you.

He can't help but notice that your voice sounds hopeful.

The invitation excites him more than he cares to admit. Sure, the two of you have hung out plenty of times, but it's always been in a group setting – at one of Wade’s get togethers or movie nights, surrounded by other friends.

But never just the two of you – definitely never in your apartment.

He could never think of saying no to you. Especially not when this is what he's been hoping for since he first me you.

“Yeah. Yeah, I'd really like that.”

You hold the door open for him, letting him enter your apartment. Right away, he notices how different it is from the one that he lives in. Then again, there’s three people cramped into Althea’s – you're the only person who lives here, so you're able to make it entirely your own.

It’s cute, and cozy, he thinks. From your furniture adorned with throw pillows and blankets, to all of your shelves stocked with books, knick-knacks and candles, to the various plants occupying space throughout the living room, it feels endearing and welcoming right away.

“So, where’s Wade at tonight?” you ask as he ventures into the living room. He notes a large cardboard box with an untouched pizza in it on your coffee table. His stomach growls at the sight, and it hits him that he actually is fucking starving.

“He’s out with Vanessa. Fourth time this week,” he answers, turning to find you retrieving two plates from a cabinet in your kitchen. You're angled away from him, and when you raise your arms to grab the plates, your tank top lifts enough to give him a clear view of your midriff. He quickly averts his gaze, pretending to find something on your bookshelf particularly interesting.

“I’m just really glad that they’ve worked through things and seem to be happy now,” you sigh. “He wasn’t in a good place after their breakup. Barely ever left his apartment for the longest time.”

“They’ve got something special, that’s for sure,” Logan agrees.

You hand him a plate, walking past him to your couch. You toss some of the decorative throw pillows to your recliner, making room for him on the sofa. You pat the empty space beside you, an invitation for him to make himself at home.

“Who knows, maybe they'll even get their own place soon and I won’t have to share the living room with him anymore,” he says as he sits down beside you.

It’s a pretty small couch – really more like a loveseat – so it’s a snug fit for the two of you. The skin of your exposed kneecap brushes against the fabric of his jeans as you lean forward to grab yourself a slice of pizza.

“Sounds like you just want Blind Al and Mary Puppins all to yourself,” you tease. You hand him a piece of pizza and close the box before propping your feet up on the table. You lean back, looking at him with a smirk and raised brows.

“If he moves, that dog is going with him and you know it. There’s no way he’d leave her behind,” he shakes his head.

“There’s no way Althea would let him take her. She's grown to be as attached to her as Wade is. I think even you like her more than you care to admit.”

“What can I say? She has a way of weaseling herself into your heart,” Logan sighs.

“Oh, it’s definitely the tongue,” you shrug through a bite of pizza.

Logan grimaces as a vivid image of Mary Puppins French kissing Wade awake flashes through his mind, but he can't help but laugh.

You turn on some action-comedy that Logan has never heard of, and the two of you eat and take turns making comments about whatever is happening on the screen for the first half of the movie.

He tries to stay focused on the film, he really does, but every now and then you readjust your position on the couch, causing him to catch a whiff of your perfume or your thigh will brush against his and he'll have to force his attention back to the characters on the screen.

No matter how distracting he may find your mere presence beside him, he's enjoying himself. This is by far the longest the two of you have hung out together, without the additions of his roommates and other friends. He dreads the moment that the movie ends and he’s obligated to tell you goodnight before reluctantly going back to his own apartment.

During the second act of the movie, he wonders what you’re thinking - if you could possibly be feeling the same way as him – when you randomly sit forward, grab the box of the leftover pizza off of the table in front of you, and stand to take it to your refrigerator.

It's then that he picks up on an odor – not the light floral aroma of your perfume but something new. A scent that answers the question of exactly what you had been thinking about. It’s musky and pheromonal, and even though it’s been a while since Logan has been intimate enough with a woman to smell the scent of her arousal, he recognizes it right away.

When you sit back down beside him, the sweet smell washes over him again and he bites the inside of his lip so hard that he tastes blood. The wound disappears as quickly as it’s formed, but the same can’t be said for the erection that begins to strain against the confines of his boxers.

He eyes the pile of small, decorative pillows that you had tossed to the side and wishes that he could grab one to place over his lap.

The words that you’d said to Vanessa a few days ago begin replaying in his mind for the thousandth time since he’d first heard you say them, reminding him this isn’t one-sided. He may be sitting here attempting to conceal a raging hard-on by shifting his position and subtly adjusting his pants, but Logan’s heightened sense of smell tells him that your underwear are probably starting to feel as uncomfortable as his do at the moment.

Without turning his head, he risks a glance at you. Your eyes are on the movie, and your face is neutral, but your posture gives you away. Your arms are crossed over your chest, the tips of your fingernails digging tiny crescent shaped indentations into the flesh of your upper arm. You have one of your thighs crossed over the other, locked together tightly but that doesn’t stop him from being able to smell how fucking wet you are.

“You know, if my sense of smell is as good as my sense of hearing, then I think I have a pretty good idea of what you’re thinking about right now,” Logan starts, his voice low and gruff. He watches from his peripheral vision as you freeze, your form going rigid.

“But I’d really like to hear you say it.”

You turn to him, your eyebrows quirked but your face otherwise impassive.

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about. What exactly is it that you’d like to hear me say?” you ask innocently. You give him doe eyes that make his cock finish filling with blood.

He huffs a laugh, picking up on the way that your heartrate accelerates when you look at him.

“I'd like to hear you say what you said to Vanessa a few days ago,” he hums. “I can’t remember exactly, but I think it had something to do with you rubbing your sweet little cunt on my abs. Does that sound familiar to you?”

“Hm,” you feign contemplation. “That doesn’t really sound like something I'd say.”

He knows you’re trying to play it cool, but there’s certain things that you just can’t hide from him – like the way your heart is beating a mile a minute and the way your nipples have pebbled beneath the thin material of your tank top.

“You’re right. It doesn't sound like something you’d say,” he snorts, and leans in so that your face is just a few inches from his. “So imagine my surprise when I walked by your apartment to hear you talking about jumping my adamantium bones.”

He doesn't miss the way your breath catches in your throat or how your eyes flicker to his lips.

“You gonna do it? Or you just gonna keep thinking about it while you're sitting beside me?”

For a second, you say nothing and Logan struggles to read your expression. Then, without taking your eyes off of him, you slowly stand in front of the couch. You reach for the hem of your tank top and pull it over your head, leaving you naked from the waist up.

Logan's mouth goes dry. Suddenly, he's all out of smart remarks.

You hook your thumbs into the waistband of your pajama shorts, pushing them down your thighs along with your panties, and let them both drop to your feet all while holding his gaze.

With you now stark naked before him, he leans forward, grasping you by the backs of your thighs and pulling you onto his lap. You straddle him, gently pushing him back against the sofa.

He tugs his own shirt over his head while you undo his belt buckle and pop open the top button of his jeans, your hands fumbling when he sheds his shirt.

Logan doesn’t typically think too much about his physical appearance. He knows he’s in good shape, and thinks he’s conventionally attractive enough. But he could see himself getting a bit of an ego, if he had someone looking at him the way you are right now on a regular basis.

You help him shimmy his jeans and boxers down far enough for his cock to spring free. You take him in your hand, using your thumb to smear the thick bead of pre-cum across the head.

“You should be careful listening to people’s conversations outside of their doors,” you hum as you pump him in one hand. You hunch over, lowering your mouth enough to spit down his shaft, lubricating the length. You smirk, glancing up at him from beneath your thick eyelashes. “Other people might not react as happily as me.”

Fuck, he knows it’s been a long time since he's even felt anyone’s hands on him, but he feels a little pathetic at the way his balls are already tightening and feeling so heavy just from the way you’re languidly stroking him.

And as much as he’d love for you to keep your hands on him, there’s time for him later. Right now, what he wants more than anything is the feeling of your pussy on him.

He pulls your hand off of him and then tugs you over his erection, trying his hardest to ignore the way the wetness between your legs glides against the tip of his cock, until you’re flat against the hard expanse of his lower stomach.

“This is what you wanted, yeah?” He grunts. You whimper in response, tightening your thighs around his sides and rocking back and forth with the smallest amount of friction. “Don’t be holding back, wanna feel you make a mess on me.”

His words seem to erase any remaining reservation that you may have had. You brace your hands on his chest and begin dragging your center across his lower stomach, your slick coating the thick trail of hair that goes from his belly button to his waistline. With every backstroke, the head of his cock juts against your ass.

You glide across him easily. Soft, wet, and warm, Logan thinks that if you feel this good on his fucking stomach then there’s no way he’ll be able to handle being inside you.

He leans his head forward, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth. You hold his head in your hands, tugging on his hair with your fingers as he teases your nipple with his tongue and teeth.

He pulls his mouth away from your breast with a wet pop. “You like this? Using me to get yourself off?”

“Mm-hmm,” you nod frantically, your answer coming out as a moan. He gives a quick, firm slap to your other breast. Judging by the sound it draws from you, you like it, so he does it again.

He'd pictured this exact scenario a shameful number of times in the last few days, but his thoughts hadn’t done you justice. Every little noise you make, every little whimper and moan as your clit brushes against the thick bulges of his muscles again and again, sounds sweeter than he could've dreamed.

He places his hands on the meat of your hips, guiding you forwards and backwards across his abdomen at a fast pace.

“Fuck,” you gasp, clenching your thighs around him as tight as you can. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum—”

“That’s right,” he coos. “Come on, cum on me.”

You dig your fingernails into his shoulders, drenching the hair on his stomach as you ride out your orgasm on him with a cry of his name.

You collapse against his chest, going still with your face in the crook of his neck as you steady your breathing.

“Look at me,” he whispers after a moment. It hits him that despite the fact that you just humped him until you came all over his abdomen, he somehow hasn’t even kissed you yet.

You pull away from his neck, looking down at him with a dazed expression. He brings your face to his mouth by the back of your neck. He wastes no more time, instantly slipping his tongue past your lips.

He holds you by the globes of your ass, which hovers just above his erection. You grind down, causing the tip of his cock to nudge against your entrance. He groans into your mouth, his cock past the point of feeling like it’s going to explode if he doesn’t fucking feel you.

“We can stop here,” he murmurs against your lips when he breaks the kiss, even though the thought kills him. He doesn’t want to stop kissing you, touching you, tasting you. It’s only been a few months, but it feels like he’s been waiting a lifetime for this and the last thing he wants is for it to come to an end. “Don’t have to go any further if you don’t—”

“No,” you exclaim with a breathy laugh. “No, I don’t want to stop. Do you want to stop?”

He grins up at you, taking his length in his hand and teasing it through your folds from below you. He coats the head in your juices before nudging it against your hole.

“Definitely don’t wanna stop, sweetheart.”

You sink down onto him at the same moment that he tilts his hips up enough to slip inside you, causing the entirety of his length to fill you at once.

You both go still, adjusting to the new sensation of each other. Your walls, velvet soft and so warm, constrict around him like a vice. He knows you’re likely tired from riding him through your first orgasm, so he begins thrusting his hips slowly, the tip of his cock nudging against your cervix.

“You’re big. So, so big,” you moan – something between a whine and a praise.

“I know, but you’re doing so good, honey,” he encourages as he eases himself in and out of you. “Don’t worry, I got you.”

You latch your lips to his again, and it’s hard for him to hold back. The feeling of your tight, perfect cunt around him and the taste of your tongue in his mouth is overwhelming. He wants to memorize every movement, every sound you make.

You snake your hand between your bodies, your fingertips finding your swollen clit and massaging languid circles. He feels you flutter around him as you start meeting his thrusts with movements of your own, and he knows you’re close.

“Not gonna last much longer, honey,” he grunts with a sharp thrust. “Feel too fucking good.”

“Cum with me,” you murmur against his mouth.

Your command causes something in him to snap. He releases a throaty growl, pistoning his hips upwards at a harsh pace as he fills you up from below. You constrict around him, crying his name into his ear as you ride out your climaxes together.

You collapse against his chest once more, his cock still nestled inside you. He loses track of how long the two of you stay like that, neither of you wanting to be the first to move.

“Remind me to eavesdrop on your conversations more often,” he huffs a laugh, still slightly out of breath.

You bring your lips to his, smiling as you give him a light kiss.

“I’ll know if you do. I have a doorbell camera. You didn’t notice that?”

thank you so much for reading <3 comments and reblogs are super appreciated. here are a few more of my favorite logan pieces that i've written ✨️

for always and ever is always for you - old man logan x healer reader

diet pepsi - old man logan x reader limousine sex

lavender and velvet - worst variant logan x neighbor reader

[thinkinonsense]

old man!logan x fem!reader

masterlist

— nothing was going right for logan tonight. work was shit and his body ached with indescribable pain. the only thing he wanted to do was crawl home to you.

"l-lo...?"

your sleepy voice was barely audible. logan tried to be quiet as he came into the house later than usual.

"hey, princess." he mutters, ridding himself of his suit jacket and slipping off his shoes.

"come lay down with me." you beg softly, wanting him to scoop you up into his big arms and cradle you like a delicate little thing.

"in a minute..." he replies, kneeling down at the foot of the bed. "wanna see my girl."

logan pulls the thin sheet off of your body; only covered by one of his shirts and a pair of lavender panties. nothing special but he adored them anyways.

"looks like she missed me too." he groans, swiping his thumb over the wet spot that grows in between your legs.

still half asleep but moaning quietly into one of the pillows next to you.

lately this is all he's been wanting to do when he returns home. lay in between your legs either slowly making out with your cunt or fingering you until you're on the verge of tears. not that you minded this sudden change, never rejecting logan from his acclaimed spot between your thighs.

"gonna let me spend some time with her, sweetheart?" he says, not expecting a verbal response.

you lazily nod your head and lift your hips a little so he can pull down your panties, tossing them aside.

"atta girl."

the low rumble in his voice left you whimpering. like a tease, logan spreads your folds, watching your arousal leak from within you. he loved splitting you open and seeing his affect on you.

"what's gotcha so soaked, baby?" he coos at your cunt, blowing a little air on it and watching how your body responds to it, hips wiggling and hole clenching for him.

"she's just cryin' for me, huh?" he chuckles, lifting your tired legs back near your head as he towers over you.

"p-please..." you whine, looking up at him with glossy eyes.

without saying a word, logan slips his middle and ring fingers inside of you, nudging that sweet spot of yours. a choked moan escapes you and your hands fly to his wrist. what's usually gentle soon turns vigorous at the pace he's moving.

"uh- fuck!" you gasp, fully awake now. " 's too much, lo."

"you can take it, sweetheart." he says sternly as his other hand draws circles on one of your legs, holding them in the air.

heat pools in your belly as you scratch your nails down logan's wrists. he can't help but adore the little 'uh-uh-uh's' spilling from your plump lips. the lewd slaps of slick fill the room as his pace picks up, bumping his fingertips against the spongy spot inside of you.

"d-don't stop, please." you beg, staring up at him with glossy, glazed over eyes. soft little mumbles of "pleasepleaseplease" ringing in logan's ears like his favorite song.

"fuck, practically cutting off my circulation." logan grunts before spitting on your button and using his thumb to stimulate you further.

all that can be heard are your incoherent babbles and logan's grunts of encouragement. his thick rough fingers stretch you in ways you didn't think were possible.

logan leans down to kiss your trembling lips, grunting at the little whimpers that escape. the fast slaps of his palm on your clit makes you bite down on his lower lip, healing so quickly that you don't even taste any blood.

"c'mon princess..." he groans, pulling apart just enough to speak. "be a good girl and soak my hand for me."

in that moment, his fingers inside of you are perfectly timed with the circles his thumb draws, sending you into a state of nirvana. panting and moaning against logan's lips while he praises you.

"that's it, sweetheart."

"there's my good girl."

once your heart rate returns to normal, logan cleans you up with a small rag before laying down in bed next to you. his muscular arms wrap around you and pull you in so he can spoon you.

"miss me that much?" you ask with a small chuckle as he kisses your neck.

"mhm, had another shitty day and needed to spend some time with my girl." he answers, words muffled by your hair.

"aw, i'm sorry baby." you turn over to face him, pecking his lips. "anything i can do to make it better?"

"it's already better now, honey." he reassures, brushing hair out of your face.

"too bad...." you smirk. "was gonna offer to ride you."

logan's eyes darken with lust as you move to straddle him, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. warm hands roam around his shirtless torso, innocently drawing lazy outlines of his abs.

who could blame you for wanting to be an attentive girlfriend?

[briseroyawritingsblog]

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒔

𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒎𝒂𝒏!𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

• +18 minors do not interact. soft smut, unprotected sex, feelings, hurt and comfort, dbf, etc.

𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 / 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

divider by @anitalenia 🤍

The odd comfort you felt when his thick arms locked themselves around you as you ran to him. Tears staining your warm cheeks as you cried. A low groan escaped him as you captured his eyes with your own. “Did you break up with your boyfriend?” you nodded lying your cheek on his chest. His large palm coming up to caress the middle of your back coaxing you close letting you cry. “I normally don’t care about this shit but I care for you little one, now tell me who hurt you so badly?” Thumb coming to rest on your cheek as you peeked up to look at him. “He said I’m not good enough.” Another low groan left his chest. “Bullshit. You’re more than enough princess.” - Mr Howlett has been around you everytime you got hurt. He was that kind of a man who would tape your heart together whenever it got broken by some guy who really wasn’t worth all your tears. “You think so?” A soft nod was only his answer.

“Now you could’ve called a taxi, M’busy ya know?” He leaned against the side of his Chrysler still letting you hug him and cling to him. Your dad has been a good friend with him and frankly Logan was well known to your family and you known him pretty well. “I’m sorry” you straightened yourself and sighed rubbing your chest where your heart hurt. “Your hugs are my medicine” the older man softly smirked. “Are they now? Get in. I’ll drive ya home” opening the passenger door on his limo you got in. The age gap was atrocious but hell you didn’t care he was better to spend time with and to talk to then any of your friends. He never judged, mostly remained quiet whenever you would just spill endless word sentences listening to you. Giving you hugs, making you feel like a human being. You were something extraordinary to him, a young woman. And he was only an old man who got grumpy whenever kids your age just annoyed the fuck out of him but never you. He could listen to you for days and gaze at your beauty. You were so beautiful and it was strange… why would you find comfort in such an old man who drunk way too much. Seeing the empty bottles in his limo as he drove through busy city street. Sniffling wiping your nose you found yourself touching his wrist. His hand was so big compared to yours “What’s wrong now?” Groaning low and soft the old man took a turn onto the highway. He drove with one hand keeping his other hand tangled with yours- “Your hand is so big..” whispering before seeing him half smile but remaining silent.

“Stop here” you breathed, squeezing his hand. Parking on the side of the empty route near El Paso - his lights shut off too. Undoing your seatbelt climbing to his lap straddling him- “hey hey.. not good kid” touching your thighs with his calloused palms you buried your face against his neck taking in his scent. Closing your eyes inhaling sliding your arms around his torso “don’t do this princess” soothing over your back his fingers touching some of your hair and the back of your neck. You ignored the way he spoke, he was a little breathless. “You can have men your age, I’m just an old fucking man. Get off me” he tried to but instead of getting off him you planted soft kisses on his neck. The side of it taking a whiff of his peppery cologne which danced in your nostrils. “Don’t fight it I want you so much” you finally confessed. “I can’t-” he held you in his arms wrapping them around you. The moment you began to pull out his button up out of his pants he grabbed your wrists “don’t- you don’t want this princess” nodding biting your lip “yeah- I do. I want you. My heart is only healed when I’m with you” closing his eyes as you undid his belt and pulled down the zipper on his pants. “Tired of getting my heart broken. You’re a real man” you licked your lower lip revealing his semi hard length.

Lifting your hips settling your panties aside looking at him hovering your needy core over his length slowly guiding it in you. He groaned touching your hips in his hands. Your face fell against his chest as you slid all the way down to the base of him. “Fuck..” cussing through his teeth your arms hung themselves around his neck. “Boys my age are not men” you cried softly. “Fuck” touching your shoulder as the other hand remained on your hip the older man started to guide you back and forth on his cock which seemed to grow hard and warmer in your wet pussy. “Shit..” tipping your head back Logan growled “You want to be my little girlfriend? My little woman huh? Fucking an old man so willingly” suddenly he was filthy worded. “Yes!” You sped up your hips arching your back bouncing up and down holding his shoulders never letting go. Logan guided you holding your ass cheek firmly slightly rising his hips meeting your sensual riding. Your thighs burned as you started to fuck him faster. Your pussy asking and drooling for more of his cock since the stretch was almost painful but so delicious. Every vein of his length pleases your ridged walls hugging him tight. Both moaning in unison- looking into each other’s eyes. It was the most intimate, the most filthiest yet the warmness in your heart travelled down into your core as you clenched around him. “M’cumming…!” The band in your belly snapped and you soaked his cock, Logan grunted violently snapping his hips up into you before stilling moaning under his breath releasing the warmness in you spurting very drop of his cum in your womb. “Shit.. oh fuck..” he breathed his heart nearly jumping out of his chest as he leaned his forehead against yours. You mewled going limp after your orgasm, moaning at the slightest touch. Remaining on his cock, you both rested kissing softly. “Mine..” he breathed soothing your hair with his fingers. “Yours”

-

Apologies for any grammatical mistakes! 🤍

[manicpixievixen]

This is so logan

[wishful-sinful-9]

Logan can't keep away from you in the shower

cw: smut, piv, shower sex, recording, male masterbation

Ever since Logan moved in with you, it became impossible to shower on your own – your man came rushing in at the sound of water running like an overexcited puppy.

It's not his fault he can't resist soapy tits. And really, it's not groping, he's just trying to help you get clean!

And when a stray hand reaches down and a finger slips inside...well, he's just trying to be thorough.

Then Logan gets a call to the x-mansion and he's got to go for a mission in which he'll be gone for a week or two, so he must have something with him to remind him of you, of course.

When he suggests this to you, you assume he'll keep a nice photo of you in his pocket to glance at. Instead, Logan drags you into the bathroom and grins when you spot the camera.

Nothing reminds him of home more during those days apart from you when he strokes his painfully hard cock to the video of him fucking you from the other side of the steamy shower wall, your breasts pressed against the glass and the sounds of your whines and moans cutting through the rushing water.

He cums in time with you, hot white streaks over his chest and huffs in satisfaction. Just as he goes to clean himself up, his phone pings with a text from you.

He opens it to find a picture: your perfect tits, nipples peaking sweetly through the soap lathered over them.

His dick twitches against his thigh.

[imagine-you]

Think I Only Want You Under My Mistletoe [Logan/Reader]

Summary: In which you need a fake date to your parent's Christmas party, Logan volunteers, and you realize that maybe your unrequited crush isn't so unrequited after all. May include: Fake Dating, Real Feelings, Meddlesome Friends, Terrible Parents, and Mistletoe. Word Count: 5.5k Author's Notes: Part of my In Another Life, Perhaps 'verse. In which they're stuck in a Hallmark Movie Universe??? Either way, Merry Christmas, y'all! 🎄

Read on AO3

"Ugh," you groaned, letting your face fall into your hands. You figured it was better than hitting your head against the table in the hopes that your situation would suddenly change.  

"What's wrong?" Ororo asked, studying you across the break room table.  

“My whole life,” you grumbled, knowing you were being childish, but glad that none of your students were around to see it.  

You had managed to get a brief moment of respite from the teenagers roaming the halls of the X-Mansion by retreating to the makeshift teacher's lounge located in a room tucked away near the kitchen. All of you had worked to make it your own space.  

Hank had lugged in a refrigerator and at some point a microwave had shown up on someone's repurposed nightstand. Charles had offered to pay for whatever the staff might have wanted, but all of you seemed to want to fill the room with personal touches and effects. So, someone had dragged in an old table that must have been stored in the attic and other people stole desk chairs from unoccupied rooms. Over time, a coffeemaker had been added along with a small cabinet full of snacks. There were also photos along the wall, candid and professional shots of the staff.  

Your favorite was a group shot where most of you were making a goofy face. Your eyes were always drawn to Remy doing bunny ears behind Logan’s head and Logan in the middle of snarling at Remy to cut it out, but there was just the tiniest bit of a grin peeking at the edges of Logan’s mouth.  

He swore he hated you all, but you knew better. He was part of the family and there was a reason he had stuck around despite his own protests.  

The lounge was one of your favorite places to be and it was even better when you were joined by your fellow teachers and friends. It was a bonus perk knowing that none of the kids were allowed. You loved teaching and you loved all the bright, young students taking up residence in the mansion, but it was nice to get a break from time to time.  

 Especially when you needed a safe place to vent your frustrations about every wrong turn your life seemed to take.  

“No, really, what’s wrong?” Ororo asked again.  

"My parents," you sighed, sliding the invitation you received earlier that morning across the table so she could read it.  

"What's the big deal, sugar?" Rogue wondered, leaning over Ororo’s shoulder so she could read the paper as well. "Sounds like a good time." 

"Every year, it's always the same," you explained, reaching out to grab the invitation when Ororo handed it back. "My parents invite me to their Christmas party and I go because I love them, but I end up having a miserable time." 

"If it's so miserable, why bother going?" Logan asked from where he was leaning up against the table that held the coffeemaker and microwave. He was sipping a beer and looked relaxed in a white t-shirt and grey sweatpants. You had a fleeting thought that Logan looked really good and you hoped Charles or Jean hadn't managed to catch that.  

Charles had only grown more meddlesome in his old age and you certainly didn’t need him trying to set you up with Logan. And Logan had been infatuated with Jean for as long as you had known him. You really didn’t cherish the idea of her knowing she had something you desperately wanted.  

"It's complicated," you tried, but rolled your eyes when Logan simply arched a brow at you, unimpressed with your attempt at deflection. "My parents aren't so fond of mutants," you finally conceded, unsurprised at Logan's snort and shake of his head.  

"I might be missing something here, but you're a mutant, aren't you?" Remy asked as he dropped down into the chair at Rogue's side. He let his arm stretch across the back of her chair and you noticed the way she leaned into him, careful not to let her skin brush against him.  

You hadn't noticed Remy enter the room, since you had been so focused on Logan. You shrugged your shoulders, staring morosely at the rest of your sandwich. "Yeah," you sighed, meeting Remy's gaze. "They love me. They do," you insisted at Remy's incredulous look. "But they want me to be normal. I only see them a couple times a year, since I'm usually here with the X-Men, and every year at Christmas, without fail, I show up without a date like an idiot. And then my parents try to set me up with some normal human guy as if that will make me somehow more acceptable to them." 

"That sure sounds a lot like conditional love, sugar," Rogue mused, quirking an eyebrow at you. "Why don't you just skip out on the party this year? Save yourself the hassle?" 

"Because as much as they've royally fucked me up with all their anti-mutant bullshit, I still love them. I can't help it. So, if I have to suffer through another year of trying to ward off some random jackass' advances while my parents stand there smiling as if they can't see how uncomfortable I am? Then I'll deal with the torture if I can make them happy for a few minutes." 

Silence invaded the room and you suddenly got the sense that every person in the room was staring at you. You didn't realize until you said it out loud just how fucked up your situation with your parents really was, but you were so deep into it that you didn't know if you'd ever be able to claw your way free.  

"Well," Ororo started, leaning forward across the table and placing a hand on your arm, as if trying to offer you comfort. "If you want them to stop meddling, then show up with a date. Break the cycle." 

"But that's the problem," you protested, crossing your arms over your chest. "I'm not dating anyone, so I don't have a date." 

"Well, it's not like it's got to be a real one, darling. Why I'm sure Remy would love to go with you. Your parents will sure get a kick out of him," Rogue offered, reaching out to settle a gloved hand on Remy's shoulder.  

Remy offered you a smirk before holding out his hand with his palm turned up. You furrowed your brow as you rested your hand in his and laughed when he pulled your hand close and kissed it.  

"It would be my pleasure," he vowed with a wink.  

You glanced from Remy to Rogue and then back again, realizing they were completely serious. You knew your parents would flip when they met Remy. He was charming, but chaotic, and sure to piss your parents off. If his red, glowing eyes didn't give away that he was a mutant, then you were sure it would only be a matter of time before he blew something up.  

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad showing up with a date. Remy was your friend and you knew that he would do whatever it took to make sure you weren't cornered by some asshole who had been misled by your parents into thinking you were on the market. You felt safe with Remy and maybe for once you might actually enjoy one of your parent's Christmas parties.  

 "Alright," you decided, nodding your head as you drew you hand back. "Yeah, that sounds like--" 

"I'll do it," Logan interrupted, startling you.  

You had completely forgotten he was practically standing right behind you. You turned in your chair to look at him. You were surprised to see him studying you, expression intent.  

"What?" You blurted, sure that you had misheard Logan.  

"I'll be your date," Logan offered before casually raising his beer and taking a sip, as if he hadn't sent your heart into a frenzy.  

"You don't have to," you assured him, not sure how you would be able to handle Logan as a date to your parent's Christmas party. It wasn't that you didn't want to go with Logan, because you absolutely did. The problem was that you had had a pathetic crush on him the moment you first laid eyes on him, but Logan was notoriously head over heels for Jean. 

 Even though she was married to Scott, you had heard time and again from practically every person on the X-Men that Logan had been in love with her from the first moment he met her. So, you wouldn't be able to handle a fake date with Logan, because you would spend the whole time desperately wishing that it was real.  

"I want to," Logan insisted, finally standing up out of his slouch against the table that had been converted into a coffee bar. He rolled his shoulders, like he was preparing for a fight, and you wondered why he was being so adamant about being your date. ��

"That's sweet of you, Logan, but Remy already offered, and--," you tried before you were cut off by Logan again.  

"I'll do it," Logan stressed, a hint of a growl in his voice as he stared down Remy like he was challenging him to something.  

You glanced from Logan to Remy to Logan again.  

"What the hell is going on," you muttered, shooting a bewildered look at Ororo and Rogue to see if they were as confused as you were.  

Rogue looked amused and Ororo was watching Logan with an arched brow. But neither one seemed to be questioning the events that were playing out before them.  

After what seemed like hours of intense eye contact between the two, Remy finally held up his hands in surrender. He shot you a wink, ignoring Logan's grunt of protest.  

"I'm sure our Logan will do a fine job playing your paramour," Remy added, reaching out to run his fingers along your arm. "But if it doesn't work out, you know where to find me." 

Logan grumbled something under his breath before he strode over. He snatched the invitation off the table, succeeding in separating you and Remy, before he skimmed over the page.  

"How long will it take to get there?" Logan asked, glancing down at you.  

"It's about a three-hour drive from here," you told him, trying not to focus too much on the fact that Logan was so close to you that you could feel the heat radiating off his body. The fabric of his sweatpants was dangerously close to brushing against your arm and you had to force yourself to stay absolutely still, because you weren't even sure what you would do if you allowed yourself to move.  

"Be ready to leave by four tomorrow, then," Logan ordered before he placed his empty bottle of beer on the table between you and Remy and left the room.  

You stared at the door for a moment before finally turning your gaze on the three people patiently waiting for you to break free of your stupor.  

"What the hell just happened?" You wondered, still trying to catch up.  

"What happened," Remy started, leaning back in his seat and placing his arm along the back of Rogue's chair again, "my beautiful, clueless friend, is that Ororo here owes me twenty dollars." 

"What," you muttered, watching helplessly as Ororo handed Remy the money she evidently owed him.  

"It was only a matter of time," Remy continued, tucking the money away in his pocket. "Logan's wanted you for years." 

You scoffed, ready to deny it, but shut up at Ororo's eye roll.  

"I thought he would never make a move, but Remy had far more faith in Logan than I did." 

"A move? What move? There wasn't a move," you insisted.  

"Swooping in and stealing you away from a fake date with my Remy? That was a move," Rogue assured you, grinning at you. "It was only a matter of time. Everyone knows about Logan's feelings except for you."   

"There are no feelings, because he's been pining for Jean for years," you reminded them. You stood up, grabbing the invitation off the table, and fixed them all with a determined look. "You're all wrong, you know that? Nothing's going to happen between Logan and me," you told them before leaving the room.  

You clutched the paper in your hands and tried to ignore the fact that you really, really wanted something to happen between you and Logan.  

The next afternoon, you were nearly done getting dressed when someone knocked on your door. You glanced at the clock, realizing it was nearly four, and rushed to pull on your jacket as you walked to the door.  

You opened the door and stood, stunned, at the sight of Logan dressed in a dark t-shirt, jeans, and a leather jacket. This was as close to dressed up as Logan got and you didn't get why he was going to all the effort just for you or your mutant-hating parents.  

"Did you shave?" You blurted, noting that his usual scruff was a little more contained than usual.  

Logan shrugged his shoulders, stepping to the side and gesturing for you to lead the way. You narrowed your eyes at him as you passed him, making for the front door of the mansion. Logan reached out and stopped you with a hand on your elbow, steering you towards the garage instead.  

"Are we taking your bike?" Temperatures were quickly dropping outside and you didn't exactly want to freeze your ass off even if you would be pressed up against Logan.  

"Nope," Logan answered, not bothering to clarify until he was standing right beside Scott's car.  

"Are we stealing Summers' car?"  

Logan held up the keys, flashing you a quick grin. "Asked for permission this time," he informed you before rounding the car and pulling open the passenger side door. He stood there, watching you expectantly, before you finally forced yourself to move.  

"Thanks," you told him, gifting him with a smile, before settling into the passenger seat.  

Logan gently closed the door for you before moving towards the driver's side. It wasn't long before he was pulling the car out of the garage as you put your parent's address into the navigation system. Christmas music faintly played, filling the silence between you, and you kept shooting nervous looks over at Logan. His shoulders were tense and his hands periodically clenched the steering wheel tight. You couldn’t tell if he was regretting his decision or feeling just as anxious as you were.  

The silence began to feel excruciatingly awkward, but you didn't know how to fill it. You spent so long staring resolutely out the window that you didn't even notice when you began to drift off, your head lolling back against the headrest as your eyes closed.  

"Y/N," Logan called, his hand on your shoulder cautiously shaking you awake.  

"What?" You grumbled, reluctantly opening your eyes and squinting over at him.  

Logan looked enraptured, a soft smile on his face as he studied you.  

"We're here," he told you, prompting you to look out the windshield to the sight of your parent's home. Logan had parked the car in the long, winding driveway. There were already several cars parked along the side of it, which only made the driveway seem longer. "So, your family's loaded, huh?" 

"Yeah," you groaned with a grimace. "Why do you think they keep trying to marry me off to all their rich friend's sons? They want their legacy to continue or whatever bullshit goes on in their heads." 

"Damn," Logan sighed, shaking his head. "Good thing you won't have to worry about that this year, huh?"  

You nodded your head, finally making yourself look at Logan again. You reached out, tentative, and placed your hand on his arm. "Logan?" 

"Yeah?" He asked, staring down at your hand before turning slightly in his seat to face you.  

"Thanks," you said, pulling your hand away when you realized you had been touching him for way too long to be normal. "For doing this," you clarified, ignoring the way your cheeks flushed at his attention. "You really didn't have to, you know." 

Logan stared at you for one drawn-out intense moment and you fought the urge to look away. You inanely felt like you were in a predator's sights, which was stupid because Logan would never hurt you, but you still felt like you were being hunted. 

"Yeah, I did," he finally responded, his gaze lingering on you before he glanced away.  

Before you could question him, Logan got out of the car. You stared at the closed driver's side door for a moment before you took a deep breath and opened the passenger door. Logan met you just as you were getting out and he closed the car door for you.   

He held out his arm and you linked yours with his as you headed up towards the house. You had to stop yourself from swaying into Logan's side. There was a feeling rising within you that you weren't sure how to contain. It was anticipation and longing and fear, because if you fucked this up, then what would you do? It would be awkward living and working in the same place as Logan and you hated the idea of avoiding him all to save yourself some dignity.  

Before you were ready, you were standing on your parent's doorstep, hesitant to announce your arrival.  

"What's wrong?" Logan asked, nudging you in the side with his elbow.  

"We can leave," you blurted, avoiding his gaze. "We can leave and just skip this year and they never have to know I was here." 

Logan sighed before unhooking his arm from yours and wrapping it around your shoulders. "I've got you," he promised. "Now ring the damn doorbell." 

"That was almost sweet," you muttered, grinning at Logan's snort of amusement.  

You reluctantly reached out to ring the doorbell, wincing at the chime you had heard throughout all your childhood. It meant you were home and not where you really belonged at the X-Mansion. You were still debating the merits of just making a run for it when the door opened and you were met with the sight of your mother.  

She looked genuinely happy to see you, which was really one of the only things that was keeping you rooted to the spot. But then she realized you weren't alone and she turned her attention towards Logan. The warmth in her smile faded into something more polite and suited for company.  

"Oh, you brought a friend," your mom observed, the corners of her mouth turning down in disapproval.  

"I brought a date," you corrected her, trying not to startle when Logan dropped his hold on your shoulders and instead grabbed your hand. Feeling Logan lace his fingers through yours felt like the greatest thing ever and you hated that he was only doing it for show.  

"And who is this?" Your mom asked, already dismissive of Logan despite knowing nothing about him.  

She knew one thing, you thought, doing your best not to scowl at your mom. She hadn't picked Logan for you, so of course he wasn't good enough.  

"Logan, ma'am," he introduced with a nod of his head.  

"And how do you know my daughter, Logan?" Your mom interrogated, staring him down as if she could make him disappear if she concentrated hard enough.  

It was then you realized your mom was refusing to move until she got her answers. Your mom hated being perceived as rude and you knew she must really not want Logan there if she wasn't even going to pretend to welcome him.  

"Y/N and I work together and--" Logan cut himself off and shot you a wary look. You shook your head, letting him know not to tack on that you practically lived together as well. "We work together," he settled on with a small shrug of his shoulders.  

"Are you one of those?" Your mom asked, gesturing briefly towards you.  

You felt Logan tense up at your side and knew that trouble was fast approaching. Logan smiled at your mom, practically baring his teeth, and cocked his head to the side. "A mutant?" He supplied, practically not blinking as he met your mom's unimpressed stare with one of his own. "You could say that, sure," he added with a dangerous smirk that sent warning bells ringing in your head.  

You tightened your hold on Logan's hand, lending him your own brand of moral support while also hoping to shut him up. "Mom, it's cold out here," you hinted, quirking an eyebrow at her. “Maybe you should invite us in.” 

"Right," she muttered before stepping aside. "Why don't you and your...date," she practically sneered, "come in?" 

"Thanks," Logan told your mom, offering her a wide, unsettling smile. "Your hospitality is appreciated." 

You had never really seen Logan like this before. Maybe once or twice when he was in the same room as Scott and Jean and he wanted to get under Scott's skin. But this was somehow different and terrifying and just a bit thrilling.  

Logan was doing his damnedest to stand up for you while also pretending to respect your mom. You could tell your mom was disappointed in you, but you didn't even care. You found yourself wishing that bringing Logan as your date was real, but you would take what you could get. You would just have to enjoy Logan's attention for as long as you had it. 

Logan urged you forward with a hand on the small of your back and then helped you shrug out of your coat. “You weren’t kidding,” he muttered under his breath, sounding irritated. “You’ve put up with this shit your whole life?” 

“Yeah,” you answered, knowing it was starting to look really pathetic on your part.  

Your mom had retreated into the living room. You could see her talking to your dad and she pointed towards you and Logan. Your dad scowled before schooling his expression into something more neutral.  

"Shit," you hissed, before grabbing Logan's arm. "Let's go somewhere else," you suggested.  

"I go where you go," Logan promised, letting you lead him towards the dining room where you knew you would find a buffet-style spread of food.  

At the very least, this was something your parents always got right. Logan looked exhilarated as he piled a plate with all kinds of food, ranging from strips of steak to scalloped potatoes to slices of honey glazed ham.  

“Now this is a spread,” he approved, taking a bite of stuffed mushroom.  

“Eat up,” you told him, grinning at him. “You’ve earned it.” 

After eating and then drifting from room to room in a bid to avoid your parents, you realized that Logan was intent on keeping his word. He stayed right there at your side, letting you introduce him to your parent's friends and their kids with a smile on his face and a hand on the small of your back. 

You were beginning to feel flustered having Logan in your space, so you retreated to the one place you knew you could drop the facade for just a little bit and gain a tiny bit of your sanity back.   

You ended up hanging out with the children that had been left in a room near the back of the house. You had always hated being a kid at your parent's parties, because it meant you were stuck in a room with other kids and basically ignored for the rest of the night. But now, as an adult, it was the only true refuge to be found at your parent’s house during a party. 

You ended up entertaining them with your powers. You helped some float using your forcefields and you turned invisible and let them try to find you. All the while, Logan stood at the entryway of the room, watching you with a fond little smile that set off a fluttering in the pit of your stomach.  

After half an hour of Logan's undivided attention, you decided to give yourself a break. You planned on staying with the kids, so you doubted your parents would even find you. The plan was foolproof and would give you the time to calm your racing heart.  

"Hey, would you mind getting me a drink?" You asked Logan, glancing up at him from where you were crouched on the floor and letting Mrs. Hudson's granddaughter draw what you thought might be a unicorn on your arm.  

Logan nodded his head, pushing off the doorframe he had been leaning against. He looked so fond and you couldn’t take it anymore. 

"Any preferences?" 

"Surprise me," you told him with a grin, feeling just the slightest bit bold and playful.  

“You got it.” Logan winked before leaving the room, doing nothing to help you feel any more in control of the situation.  

"Are you and Mr. Logan getting married?" Mrs. Hudson's granddaughter asked you, adding what you assumed was blood beneath the unicorn's hooves. Either that, or she had run out of green for grass and was making do with what she had on hand.  

"Mr. Logan doesn't like me like that," you told her, obediently turning your arm over when she tapped it and shook a blue marker at you.  

"Yes, he does," she answered, as if it was that simple. She started shading in a sky and you hoped it would be easy to wash off later.  

"Well, isn't that adorable," someone drawled from the doorway.  

"Fuck," you breathed, instantly recognizing the voice.  

"That's an uh-oh word," Mrs. Hudson's granddaughter reprimanded you.  

"Sorry," you told her, patting her on the shoulder before standing up. You reluctantly turned to see your ex standing there. "What're you doing here?" 

"Your parents invited me," Timothy told you, studying you. "God, you look great." 

"Shit," you groaned, realizing that Timothy had been the person they were going to try to set you up with this year.  

"That's another uh-oh word," Mrs. Hudson's granddaughter informed you with a disapproving frown.  

"Right," you agreed before walking towards Timothy. "Maybe in front of the children isn't the best place for this conversation."  

You brushed past Timothy, hating that you were in the same room as him, much less signing yourself up for a confrontation. You had been convinced for three years that Timothy was the one until he told you that he would rather adopt children than risk you passing on any of your 'mutant genes' to them. It had crushed you, realizing that Timothy didn't fully love you at all, and you had packed up all your things and joined the X-Men.  

If anything, it should have made your parents hate Timothy for driving you away. Instead, they seemed to think he was the one who got away for you and you would never do any better.  

You stopped in the entryway of an empty guest room and turned to face him.  

"Look, I don't know what my parents told you, but I'm here with a date. I'm taken, alright? I don't want to get back together." 

"Oh, come on," Timothy said, moving forward until he was in your space. "There's no date. You don’t have to lie to me to make me want you more. I want you. I always have. And now we're here and there's a really good reason why I should kiss you right now," he continued with a quick glance up.  

You tried not to wince as you also took a chance and looked up at the frame of the doorway. "Mistletoe," you observed, hating that you had the worst luck. "It wasn't on purpose." 

"I already told you that you don't have to lie to me," Timothy claimed before bringing a hand up and cupping your cheek. "I'm all yours, babe. Just say the word." 

"Leave," Logan growled, approaching the pair of you from down the hallway. He had two wine glasses in his hands which he quickly set down on a table displaying family photos.  

"Who the fuck are you?" Timothy asked, barely even budging from his spot in front of you.  

"My date," you helpfully informed him just as Logan unsheathed his claws.  

"What the--" Timothy started just as you pushed him away with a forcefield. He went stumbling back, shooting you a look of betrayal. "You swore you'd never use that against me." 

"When we dated, sure," you reminded him. "But we're not together anymore. And we never will be again," you stressed, hoping he would get the message.  

When Logan kept coming towards the two of you, not bothering to put away his claws, Timothy's eyes widened.  

"Move it, bub," Logan snarled, looking like he was moments away from sinking his claws into Timothy. 

"Okay, okay, I get it, whatever. Tell your boyfriend I'm sorry," he rambled, practically scrambling to get away from you and Logan.  

You watched him scurry away, a grin tugging at your lips. "That was great," you exclaimed, turning back towards Logan. You nearly jumped when you realized that Logan was now standing right in front of you.  

He packed the claws away and reached up to frame your face in his hands.  

"What are you doing?" You whispered, your heart suddenly pounding so hard you were sure Logan would be able to hear it going crazy.  

"There's mistletoe," Logan reminded you, his voice soft and intimate. 

"We don't have to," you assured him. "I mean, it's just a dumb tradition, right? It's--" 

"What I want," Logan finished for you, expression intent and serious. His thumb gently swept along your jaw and you didn't even have time to process the fact that Logan wanted to kiss you before his lips were pressed against yours.  

Your brain went haywire trying to figure out what to do. You brought your hands up, unsure where they should land, before you settled them on Logan's shoulders. You were worried you would fuck the moment up by not responding, so you poured all your feelings into the kiss. You had wanted Logan for so long and if this was the only kiss you got from him, then you wanted it to be something you remembered for years to come.  

Logan's touch remained gentle, but his kiss was searching and all-consuming. You nipped lightly at his lips, testing for a reaction, and shivered when Logan moaned and reeled you in closer.  

By the time you pulled away, you felt like Logan had thoroughly claimed you. You nearly couldn't catch your breath, torn between giddy anticipation and fear that this was all about to come crashing down around you.  

You met Logan's eyes, unsure of what you would find there. You froze for a moment, sure that you were wrong, but you let yourself take the time to really look at him. You couldn’t afford to mess this up. There was way too much at stake. 

Logan was watching you like you were the only thing in the whole world. He was looking at you with affection and want and something that looked a lot like love to you. It was exactly what Remy, Rogue, and Ororo had claimed Logan had been doing all along.  

"I've really got to thank Remy," you muttered, realizing that he had been right that Logan had been making a move by agreeing to be your fake date. Except, Logan did have real feelings for you, but you were the only one who hadn't been able to see it.  

"What?" Logan growled, his grip briefly tightening on you. "You're really thinking about Remy right now? After what just happened, he’s what’s on your mind?"  

You shook your head, smiling at Logan. Logan had absolutely no reason to be jealous, because even if he might not be aware of it, there was no one who could ever compete with him. No one else had ever made you feel the way Logan made you feel. You felt like there was a warmth taking root in your chest and it was lighting you up inside. It was all Logan. His touch, his kiss, and his affection had you feeling invincible.  

As long as you had him, you truly could do anything. Including deal with your parents and their intolerance and shitty choice of suitors for you.  

Logan had volunteered to be your date and had spent a whole evening putting up with your parents and their snooty, prejudiced friends all for you. Logan had run off your ex and then kissed you like he wanted nothing more than to keep doing that for the rest of his life. Logan wanted you just as much as you wanted him and you felt like you were on top of the world.  

You didn't care that this had started out as fake, because now it was real and there was really only one thing you wanted to do now that you knew you had Logan.  

"You've got nothing to worry about. You're all I want," you assured him before reeling him back in for another kiss underneath the mistletoe.  

It wasn’t exactly the Christmas you had expected to have, but it was turning out to be the only one worth celebrating. 

Logan was truly the best gift you had ever received. 

All Logan Taglist: @i-left-my-cat-on-the-stove @slightlymediocree @snowyminty @i-wear-wet-socks313 @shizzybarnaclee

Series Taglist: @ayamenimthiriel @the-gentle-spirit @wolflover-20

If you would like to be added to the all logan or the series taglist, just let me know!

[kailrosewrites]

Beautifully written and you get bonus points for reminding me that early 30s is still young

(since I'm in my early thirties and feel ancient lol)

cookies. lumberjack!logan x chubby!femreader.

synopsis: Logan likes his quiet, simple life, but something is missing. maybe someone. maybe that someone is you, the lovely lady that gifted him a bowl of cookies.

cw: chubby, mother and baker reader, fatphobia, logan being smitten, a bit of ooc logan, suggestive content.

words: 2.3k

(...)

Being a lumberjack wasn’t that hard. It was a quiet life that Logan lived, and he enjoyed it. Although it was pretty lonely, he liked that type of life.

He didn’t have friends, but he could count his work colleagues as those, he was sure that he didn’t need friends, he was okay on his own. But he couldn’t lie, when he came and saw his house just as he had left it, he craved a bit of someone's company. An alive house.

But he pushed those thoughts away, because he didn’t have time for that, he had other business to take care of. All of his friends craved the weekend to be at home with their wives, and he… he craved it to drink beer on his sofa and watch TV, alone. Fortunately, he didn’t get bored easily, it was a good routine, he found comfort in it.

The sound of chopping wood filled his ears like usual, some ragged breaths around it too. It was like that for hours, until break started, all of his colleagues getting surprised by whatever their wives cooked for them, while Logan ate the sandwich he had made that morning for himself.

“I heard there’s a new one in town.” One of his colleagues said, Logan raised an eyebrow.

“A new what?” He frowned a bit.

“A woman.”

Logan sighed. His colleagues weren’t his friends because of that: they were utterly disgusting. All of them had wives and some of them had kids, but even with the amazing lives they got, they didn’t miss the chance to be disgusting when talking about women.

“A good piece?” Another colleague said.

“Dependens on your likes, man.”

“What do you mean?” One of them talked with food in  his mouth.

The one that apparently had saw this woman chuckled. “You know, she is a good piece… if you like your steak with grease.”

“The fuck does that mean?” Logan frowned.

“She is fat.” One of them laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world.

After that sentence, Logan stopped listening. Sometimes he couldn’t believe how his colleagues spent the only free time they had per day talking about that stuff. He just sighed and kept eating in silence.

During the trip home, he realized that the jacket he had on wasn’t enough to keep him warm, a sign that winter was getting even closer. As soon as he got home, he did the same he did at work: chop wood. He couldn’t say he minded, it wasn’t like he had something else to do.

A soft humming made him sharp his ears and pay attention to the people walking by. He got a glance of the beautiful linen dress you had on, with flower embroidery on the bottom, the piece of clothing hugged your chubby curves in a beautiful way, he didn't think he had ever seen someone with a piece of clothing that benefited them so much.

He got captivated, a beautiful woman like you walking in front of his yard, and he was too stunned to speak. He had never been so enamored with a woman before. Your hands were holding a basket as you stood in front of his fence, and when that smile appeared in your lips, he thought he was already drooling.

Everything was too much for him to handle, you were breathless. Your curves, your dress around them, your smile, your face… god, your face. That perfect, adorable face.

“Hi!” You said sweetly.

He blinked a few times before speaking. “Hey.” He instantly cursed himself for how blunt he sounded, at the same time that he was trying to hide the fact that he was completely distracted.

“Logan, right? Miss Harper told me your name.” You smiled at him.

You were young, a young little thing he would say. Younger than him, of course, but he could tell you were in your early thirties. 

“You got that right.” He rested his ax on the ground and rested his hands there.

“Glad to meet you.” You smiled widely. “I just moved, I have a bakery down the road here, I was around telling that I do birthday or events cakes, or any type of pastries, and that I would love it if you came by.”

You probably told this to everyone, but gosh, he felt special. 

His sweet tooth couldn't deny the opportunity. “You have a deal, sugar.”

You seemed to blush at the pet name and lifted the bow you had in your basket. “I wanted to give you these.”

Logan approached curiously, you lifted the towel that covered the content on the bowl.

Cookies. Classic vanilla and chocolate-chip cookies.

“Mr. Harper also mentioned you liked cookies.” You giggled a bit.

He might have just fallen in love.

His eyes were immediately drawn to the bowl in your hands. They widened a little, with an almost childlike wonder of seeing a treat. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had given him cookies. 

Logan quickly wiped that look of his face before he spoke, raising an eyebrow. “You’re giving me these.. just because?”

“Yeah, I mean, I thought it was a sweet thing to do.” You said, with a hint of shyness.

Oh, hell yeah, you were a sweet thing. His heart fluttered at that. That cute look on your face, God, could someone even be more perfect?

But Logan tried to brush that thought off, and he took the bowl of cookies in his hands. “That’s real sweet of ya’. Thank you, sugar.”

You smiled cutely. “No need to thank me, baking is how I express love. Anyways! I'm going to the flower field, I'm making some flower crowns with my daughter. Bye Logan!”

As soon as you came in, you left to the flower field next to his house, waving softly at him.

Baking how you express love, that you had a daughter.. 

He wasn’t too sure why learning all of that caused butterflies to start fluttering in his stomach, but he tried to ignore them when you said bye to him. 

And with that, Logan was left all alone on his porch, a bowl of cookies in his hands. 

He looked down at them, before he couldn’t help but let that grin make its way back onto his face. He felt like some lovesick schoolboy, swooned so easily by a woman offering him cookies and having a cute smile.

He mentally cursed himself for reacting so strongly. 

It wasn’t fair that this one woman, you, had the ability to make his heart skip a beat and bring an unfamiliar flutter of butterflies into his stomach. But also, having someone taking care of him like that, made his stomach flip with happiness.

Logan tried to shrug off the feeling, and instead, looked down at the bowl of cookies and bit into one and… Jesus H. Christ.

It was soft, and warm, and tasted sweet, and it just…melted in his mouth. He never experienced a cookie like that, and the fact he was eating one you baked felt his heart thump. 

He took another bite, wanting to savour the taste.“God damn it.” He muttered to himself as he took another bite. 

Logan couldn’t help but close his eyes as the sweetness of the cookie flooded his senses, the taste was so good, it was criminal.

He was screwed, he might just fall in love with you because of a goddamn cookie.

One cookie quickly became all of them. 

Logan couldn’t stop himself as he shoved the cookies one by one into his mouth. He never stopped to think about how you had baked them, or what you had put into them to make them taste so good, but it felt like he was being taken over by some sort of sugar high. 

He took a step back and leaned against one of the wooden beams of his porch, silently cursing to himself as he couldn’t stop eating. “Jesus..” By the time they were all gone, he let out a soft pant, and ran a hand over his hair. 

Those damn cookies were addictive, and if he got another basket of them… he couldn’t hold himself back.

His belly got inflated, rounded when he finished eating all of the twenty cookies. He rested a hand on his belly and closed his eyes, already feeling sleepy. He sighed and walked in the house, he left the bowl on the sink and turned on the water to wash it.Now, he was glad that the kitchen window in front of him gave view to the flower field where you were walking, recollecting some flowers and putting them in your basket. Damn, you were a sight to behold.

By the time the sun started to go, Logan had just headed back out with the clean bowl in hands when he saw you leave the flower field. From the porch, he was admiring you from afar, watching as you made your way home. He opened the fence door to approach firmly.

He slowly walked down the steps, and leaned against the fence as he called out to you. “Hey, sugar.”

You stopped your steps and smiled widely at him, turning in your heel to face him. “Hi Logan! You tried the cookies?”

He was kinda of embarrassed to admit his previous actions, the fact that he had ate the whole bowl in less than twenty minutes, but that soft look on your face made him realize that you were as sweet as your pastries.

He pushed back from the railing and walked up to you, smiling as he came to a stop.

He chuckled at the cookie question. “Yeah, all of ‘em. Just about ate the whole bowl.”

He thought you might laugh at him, or think he was a weirdo. Instead, you giggled and smiled. “I'm glad. I can tell you liked them, are you a chocolate fan?”

He grinned wider when he heard your soft giggle, admiring how cute you looked as you smiled. “Not sure ‘like’ is the right word, sweetheart. More like I absolutely devoured them.” He sighed a bit. “I'm a chocolate fan, yeah, can't deny that.”

"I guess I'll make you chocolately stuff for next time" You smiled softly to him, he felt like his heart was melting like butter.

Telling him that you were intending to bake for him again, he thought of receiving more of your treats, more of your love expressed through food, it made him go almost weak in the knees..

“Next time? You’re already thinkin’ ’bout bakin’ for me again, eh?”

You giggled adorably. "I just love baking, and when people like what I do, I can't help it but want to make them more.”

His heart thumped as you said that, how could someone be that cute? Well, he loved them, and he would eat anything you gave him.

Logan’s smile grew wider. “Damn, can’t blame ya for that, darlin’.”

Even though he was being sweet, Logan was a bad man, a nasty man it's a better way to express it, and the way your dress was hugging that chubby and curvy body of yours was making him remember how nasty he was. He couldn’t help his eyes tracking your body up and down, like he could undress you with his eyes.

You weren't stupid, of course you noticed it. You blushed a bit when he basically checked you out, accommodating a strand of hair behind your ear. "Anything else that you like for your sweet treats?”

His heart nearly stopped when he saw you blush. You were adorable.

He let his eyes linger over your body as he replied. “Oh, darlin’,”

Anything and everything, give me wha you want to give me. I’ll eat it all.

But instead, he just smirked, and said; “Surprise me.”

"I like the idea." You giggled. "Any allergies i should know?”

You needed to stop giggling like that or he was going to lose my mind.

God, you were an angel, a perfect, adorable, cute as hell, angel.

He looked down at you, his smirk still there as he spoke. “No allergies here, darlin’. I’ll eat anything ya’ make me.”

He sighed as you kept talking to him, smiling and completely smitten.

He just wanted to grab you by your hips and pull you into his arms, to have your head against his chest and wrap him arms around you, to feel your curves pressed against him. To feel that hell of a woman against him.

He tried to control the urge to do that, and just kept that smirk on his face. “So, sugar, you got a bakery? I’d like to check it out some time.”

“It's more like a café, and yeah, sure, I'm there all week with my daughter.” You smiled softly.

His ears perked up when you said that.

Your entire week, spent in the café. That gave him an opportunity to not only get more of your baked goods, but also more of you. To admire your sweet smile and adorable laugh.

His hands curled into fists so he wouldn’t reach out and touch you. He had to act slightly more nonchalant.

“Mm, I could organize my agenda to go check it out sometime.” He rubbed his chin as speaking.

“I would love it if you do that.” You squeezed your basket and he smiled when you lifted yourself a bit in your tiptoes. “I gotta go, I don't want to be late for dinner.” You looked at your house for a second before waving cutely at him. “Bye, Logan!”

Logan raised his hand and gave you a slight wave, smiling stupidly as he watched your dress move while you walked. “Bye, sugar…” he said in a mumble.

He sighed. He could get used to you.

[shybluebirdninja]

Takeout Trauma

Summary: Logan orders food but can't understand the concept of “spicy” and now he's drinking milk straight from the carton.

Pairing            : Logan Howlett x Gf!Reader Note                : fluff

The smell of takeout fills the air—a mix of savory spices, fried goodness, and that unmistakable kick of heat. You’re sitting at the kitchen counter, casually scrolling on your phone, when you hear a low, irritated grumble from the other side of the room.

Logan’s standing by the fridge, his flannel sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing forearms that are probably a little too perfect for their own good. His jaw clenched, lips tight. He’s holding a takeout container in the other, glaring at it like it personally offended him.

“Babe,” you call out, raising an eyebrow, trying not to laugh. “Are you okay?”

Logan doesn’t respond at first. He just stands there, staring down at the now very suspicious-looking food on his plate. Steam rises lazily from it, the scent of peppers and something fiery hitting your nose even from across the room.

He finally moves, his shoulders tense, and with a growl, he slams the takeout container down on the counter with a heavy thunk.

“This—” he motions to the food like it's an enemy in a bar fight, “—is too damn spicy. What the hell is 'mild' supposed to mean if this burns like the damn sun?”

You stifle a laugh, biting your lip. “Didn’t they ask you if you wanted spicy?”

Logan glares at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Yeah, they did. And I said no. They asked if I wanted ‘mild.’ Thought that meant something normal. Not... this.” He gestures angrily to the food, nostrils flaring like he’s about to start a war with the takeout place.

Oh, yeah. He’s suffering.

You lean against the counter, folding your arms across your chest. “Well, babe, I told you before. Spicy food here isn’t like what you had back in the cabin. This is, like, next-level stuff.”

He lets out another frustrated grunt, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead. “It’s ridiculous. I’ve fought wars that were easier than this.”

You can’t help it anymore—you laugh, and Logan shoots you a look, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes, something close to amusement. Still, he turns away from you, yanking open the fridge door with more force than necessary. The cold air hits him in the face, but it doesn’t seem to cool him off. He grabs the carton of milk, pops the cap, and without any hesitation, brings it straight to his lips.

You raise an eyebrow, watching as he guzzles down half the carton, milk dripping down his chin in the process. His Adam’s apple bobs with each swallow, and for a moment, you’re more distracted by that than anything else.

“Really?” you say, trying to sound exasperated but failing because you’re still half-laughing. “Drinking it straight from the carton?”

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, still scowling, but you can see the corner of his lips twitching. “What? It’s milk. Does the trick.” He slams the carton back in the fridge, letting the door close with a solid thud.

You shake your head, walking around him to inspect the food on the counter. The takeout container is practically glowing with how much red pepper oil is slicked across it.

“This,” you say, poking at it with a fork, “is what happens when you think you can handle the spice.”

Logan grunts, stepping closer to you. His hands rest on the counter on either side of you, effectively trapping you between him and the plate of dangerous food.

“It wasn’t marked like that on the menu,” he mutters, his voice low, like he’s trying to justify the whole situation. “False advertising.”

You tilt your head back to look at him, grinning. “You’re just mad because food kicked your ass for once.”

Logan’s eyes darken, and he leans in just slightly, his breath warm against your neck. “Keep talkin’, darlin’. You’re gonna end up eating this stuff just to prove a point.”

You laugh, pushing against his chest playfully. “I’m not the one trying to win a food fight, babe. But seriously, next time, just ask for plain. Or, you know, let me order. I’ve mastered the art of not burning my face off.”

He straightens up, crossing his arms, and the look he gives you is pure Logan—half-annoyed, half-amused, but mostly trying not to laugh at himself.

“I can handle my food,” he insists, but there’s no real conviction in his voice.

You arch an eyebrow. “Clearly.”

You turn to grab your own takeout container from the counter, opening it carefully and taking a small bite. It’s perfect—just the right amount of spice. The food’s warm, savory, and doesn’t set your mouth on fire.

 “How’s yours?” he asks, but you can see the wheels turning in his head.

“It’s great,” you say casually, popping another bite in your mouth. “Not too spicy.”

Logan stares at you for a beat, then sighs, his shoulders dropping in defeat. “Swap with me.”

You laugh, holding your container out to him. “Admitting defeat?”

“Call it what you want,” he grumbles, grabbing your container and handing you his. “But I ain’t about to waste perfectly good food.”

You take his container gingerly, half-expecting it to burn your fingers just from the heat. “You sure you don’t want me to grab you another drink?” you tease, watching as he digs into your much milder meal.

Logan shrugs, chewing thoughtfully. “Nah,” he says after a moment, wiping his mouth with his hand. “This is better. But next time, babe, you’re ordering.”

You grin, leaning into him. “Deal. But, babe?”

He looks down at you, raising an eyebrow.

“You might wanna clean up the milk you spilled everywhere.”

[benispunk]

Ticklish

logan howlett x reader

Maybe you discovered Logan was ticklish. Maybe you used it to your advantage.

TW: it's pure fluff, it's a little bit funny and the end is a tiny bit suggestive. let's just say Christmas came early this year...this was written this morning when I woke up and it's fully inspired by my own post

Masterlist

Every morning before getting out of bed, you and Logan had a quiet ritual. These stolen moments of peace were rare in the chaos of the mansion, where every day brought new missions, training, or too many kids running around. It was the one time you could just be. No responsibilities, no noise— just the two of you.

This morning was no different. Your head rested on Logan's chest, his fingers combing gently through your hair, while your hand traced slow, lazy patterns on his chest. It was a small act of intimacy, but one you both cherished.

Lost in the rhythm, your hand absently wandered lower, brushing against his side. Suddenly, Logan jerked like he'd been electrocuted. His entire body tensed, and he shifted away so abruptly that you sat up, startled.

“Logan, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” Concern laced your voice as you reached for him.

He cleared his throat, his usual gruff tone tinged with embarrassment. “Nah, you didn’t hurt me. Just… don’t do that.”

You blinked, confusion evident on your face. “Don’t touch your sides?” You tilted your head, studying him as if trying to solve a puzzle. He refused to meet your gaze, instead settling back into bed and opening his arms to you, clearly ready to move on.

“Come here. We don’t have much time left before breakfast,” he said, his voice low and coaxing.

But you didn’t move. The way he avoided eye contact and the faint flush on his cheeks told you there was more to this. You narrowed your eyes playfully. “Logan…”

“Don’t,” he warned, catching the glint of mischief sparking in your eyes.

You smirked. “Are you… ticklish?”

The look of horror that crossed his face confirmed everything. He groaned, running a hand over his face. “Don’t you dare,” he growled, but the threatening tone only made you laugh.

“Oh my god, you are!” you exclaimed, grinning like a kid who just uncovered a juicy secret.

“I mean it, sweetheart. You’ll regret it.” His expression was deadly serious, but the twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed him.

Still laughing, you raised your hands in mock surrender. “Relax, Logan. I’m not going to tickle you. It was an accident— I didn’t know!”

He gave you a skeptical glance, clearly trying to decide whether you were trustworthy. After a tense moment, he let out a heavy sigh and opened his arms again. You nestled back against his chest, your fingers returning to their absent-minded pattern-drawing. His hand resumed its place in your hair, but his body remained slightly tense, like a predator waiting for an ambush.

The silence stretched comfortably for a few minutes before your curiosity got the better of you. “How did I never realize you were ticklish?”

He let out a quiet chuckle. “Because it’s a secret, and I’m careful. You’re lucky you caught me off guard.”

You laughed softly, your breath warm against his chest. “You know, I can keep a secret… but I can also use it against you if I want.”

His hand froze in your hair, and you felt his heartbeat quicken just slightly beneath your ear. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wouldn’t I?” You tilted your head up, giving him your best innocent smile.

His eyes narrowed suspiciously, but when your hand wandered dangerously close to his side again, he didn’t notice until it was too late. Your fingers pinched his ribs lightly, and the sound that escaped his mouth—a startled yelp—was priceless.

“Y/N!” he growled, but he was already moving. In the blink of an eye, you were flat on your back, your wrists pinned above your head as he loomed over you.

“What was that little scream you just did?” you teased, bursting into laughter as he glared down at you.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he rumbled, his tone low and menacing, but the faint smirk tugging at his lips told you he was more amused than angry.

“Well, in that case…” You grinned up at him, eyes gleaming with defiance. “Maybe I should do that more often.”

Logan shook his head, clearly trying to hold onto his serious facade, but it crumbled under the weight of your laughter. The corners of his mouth twitched before he finally broke, leaning down to capture your lips in a heated kiss that left you breathless.

When he pulled back, his lips hovered over yours, his voice gravelly and teasing. “You sure you want to keep playing? Because I’ve got other ways to make you behave.”

You arched a brow, your smirk never wavering. “Oh? Like what?”

A low growl rumbled from his chest, and before you could blink, he nipped at your bottom lip, making you gasp. His hands trailed down your sides, slow and deliberate, his touch feather-light but enough to send a shiver through you.

“Keep testing me, darlin’,” he murmured, his tone dripping with suggestion. “You might not make it to breakfast at all.”

You bit your lip, trying to fight back a grin. “Maybe that’s exactly what I want.”

His smirk widened as he leaned closer, his voice a whisper against your ear. “Good. Because breakfast can wait.”

XXX

[pandapetals]

Christmas Cards

Logan joins you to write Christmas cards for both of your students.

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - married couple, cute, fluff, banter, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor, holiday vibes, logan being a softie

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

divider credit: @saradika

“It’s Christmas Eve, sweetheart,” Logan drawled, leaning against the doorframe of your office, his arms crossed. “Shouldn’t you be relaxin’ or somethin’?”

You looked up from your desk, where a small mountain of cards and colored pens had taken over. "I would be, but I completely forgot I wanted to give my students little holiday cards," you replied, biting your lip as you scribbled another message with a flourish.

Logan raised an eyebrow, his gaze flicking between the cards and the assortment of little trinkets you’d gathered—stickers, candy canes, even tiny snowflake charms. "Darlin’, it’s a little late for that, don’t ya think?"

"Nope," you said with a determined smile, stacking a finished card on top of the pile. "Christmas doesn’t truly end until New Year’s. Besides, I think they'll appreciate it whenever they get them."

Logan shook his head, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

Without waiting for an invitation, he crossed the room and pulled up a chair beside you. He picked up one of the cards you’d finished, reading it with a soft huff of amusement. It was a little message to one of the younger students, reminding them of how much they’d grown over the semester and encouraging them to keep believing in themselves. You’d doodled a tiny snowman in the corner, complete with a scarf and hat.

"Ya really think they’ll care about these little notes?" Logan asked, though there was a flicker of curiosity in his eyes as he picked up a blank card.

"They will," you replied, nudging his shoulder playfully. "A little kindness goes a long way. Besides, who doesn’t like a surprise message now and then?"

He rolled his eyes, but after a beat, he grabbed a pen, his fingers almost hesitant. "Fine," he muttered. "Just don’t expect me to get all mushy.”

You hid a smile, pretending to focus on your own card as Logan tapped his pen against the table, thinking. Finally, he started writing, his brow furrowed in concentration. He went card by card, jotting down blunt little messages in his scrawling handwriting.

For Bobby, he wrote: “Stop sneakin' food from the kitchen after midnight. It’s not like we don’t notice. - Logan”

You snorted, glancing over his shoulder. "Subtle," you teased.

"Kid needs a reminder," Logan replied with a smirk, moving on to the next card.

For Jubilee, he scribbled: “Quit blowin' stuff up just to get outta class. Nice try, though. - Logan”

You couldn’t help but laugh. "At least they’ll know it’s from you," you teased, nudging him. "No one else could get away with being that blunt."

"Yeah, well, if I’m doin’ this, I’m doin’ it my way," he grumbled, though there was a spark of enjoyment in his eyes. After a moment, his expression softened as he picked up a card for one of the quieter students, a young girl who often struggled in his history class.

He paused, then wrote carefully: “You’re stronger than you think. Don’t give up, kid. - Logan”

You felt your heart swell, watching him put real thought into each message, even if he tried to hide it behind his usual gruffness. He moved from card to card, alternating between gruff advice and unexpected words of encouragement, and you could see a part of him genuinely enjoyed it, even if he’d never admit it.

By the time he was done, a small stack of Logan’s cards sat beside yours, each one unique, each one touched with his blunt honesty and hidden warmth. You picked up the stack, leafing through his notes with a grin.

"See? You’re more sentimental than you let on," you teased, nudging him playfully. "Bet you even enjoyed writing these."

Logan scoffed, crossing his arms. "Yeah, right. I just figured they needed a reminder not to slack off next semester."

"Oh, sure," you replied, eyes twinkling as you held up his card for a shy student with a note that read, “You did good, kid. Keep at it.”

He looked away, scratching the back of his neck with a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. "Well, maybe… maybe they could use a little encouragin’ once in a while. Doesn’t mean I’m gettin’ soft."

"Of course not," you said, trying to stifle a smile. "You’re as tough as ever, Mr. Sentimental."

Logan let out a grumble, but you caught the tiniest hint of a smile. "Alright, alright. Enough with the mushy stuff," he muttered, standing up and stretching. "Let’s get these cards wrapped up before I start regrettin' this."

You leaned over, kissing his cheek quickly, catching him off guard. "Thank you, Logan. I think this will mean more to them than you know."

Logan grunted, trying to keep his expression stoic, but his eyes softened as he looked at you. "Yeah, well… sometimes a little kindness goes a long way."

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "Really? Are you quoting me back to myself now?"

He rolled his eyes, but you could see the faintest hint of a smile fighting to break through. "Don’t get all smug about it," he muttered, crossing his arms. "Just sayin’. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna start handin’ out compliments every day."

"Oh, of course not," you replied, leaning in closer, the amusement clear in your voice.

Logan snorted, shaking his head as he glanced down at the cards. "I still think it’s a little ridiculous," he said, though his fingers lingered over the stack of notes he'd just written as if he couldn’t help but be a bit proud. "But… I guess these kids mean somethin’ to you. So maybe it’s worth it."

You reached out, covering his hand with yours, your smile gentle. "They mean something to you too, Logan. You don’t have to say it—I can see it."

He huffed, pretending to be annoyed, but his thumb brushed over your hand, a rare, tender gesture. "Yeah, yeah. Just don’t go expectin’ me to dress up as Santa or somethin’ next."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Trust me, I know my limits." Then, with a wink, you added, "But if you did wear a Santa hat, I bet the kids would love it."

 Logan groaned, his smile betraying him as he muttered, "You’re impossible, you know that?"

"That’s why you love me," you teased, nudging his shoulder.

"Maybe," he muttered, his voice low, almost shy. "Now let’s finish up these cards before I lose my patience."

The two of you finished up, and a quiet warmth settled between you. As you stacked the cards, you knew that these little notes, full of honesty and humor, would be a gift the students would treasure—and, secretly, a holiday memory that you’d hold close to your heart, knowing just how much Logan cared, even if he’d never say it out loud.

[freakrenaissance]

A totally different flavor of Logan, & omfg, I'm here for it! This was so yummy 🥵

If you’re doing mini requests, anything with some pent up, needy Logan? Maybe with some pet play, or anything like that? Where he’s trying so hard to be good for you, but also just humping your leg and begging bc he hasn’t cum for ages ♥️

Love u and ur writing, great Avo !

“baby, please…”

“mmm, I’m reading, Logan.”

he makes a pathetic noise at the back of his throat and you smother a smile behind your paperback. he likes when you’re a little mean. likes to degrade himself for you, be reminded he’s nothing but a dog at your heel. an obedient puppy for you to command.

you’re happy to play ball.

right now Logan is kneeling before you, warm hands on your knees which are attempting to spread your legs. you know he goes crazy when he can bury his face against your sex and take a hit of your musk right from the source - but today you just nock a foot against his shoulder and gently push him away.

“Logan, what did I just say?”

“I’m on my knees, here. please. at least sit on me while you read, baby, promise I won’t make a sound… just fill you nice and full with my cock…”

it does sound appealing, but this chapter is too juicy to be distracted from. instead you stick out one leg in front of him and nod at it.

“if you’re gonna beg like a dog, Logan, feel free to get off like one.”

he groans, a long and drawn out noise at your unkindness - and how turned on he is at it. you go back to your paragraph as you listen to the little noise of desperate hands undoing his belt buckle… you try to ignore the way he takes himself out of his jeans and presses his cock up against your calf, but you can’t help peeping over the top of the page when he begins to rut against you. he drops his head to rest against your thigh as he fucks you like an animal in heat, so mindlessly needy for it.

you bury your fingers in his hair and scratch your fingers into his scalp, and he growls in affection.

“good boy,” you sigh. all Logan can do is clutch your leg and fuck you faster, cock slipping wetly up and down the material of your sweatpants. you’re sure he’s leaving a stain but you can’t really care about that right now, not when you’re so transfixed at the sight of a man so utterly at your beck and call that he’d not only fuck your leg if you asked him to, but do so with enthusiasm.

he grips you tighter as his hips begin to move erratically, and a gentle tug at his hair sends him over the edge. he shoots his load against your shin and practically collapses into you, broad body heaving with the effort of his self-imposed orgasm.

“you okay, honey?” you whisper. he nods against your leg.

“always okay with you, baby,” he hums, and you smile.

[emmcfrxst]

cannot get christmas with laura and logan out of my head, specifically going to find a tree :( like i just imagine laura IN the trees, having to run after her, and logan would probably insist on cutting it down himself

(also sorry if this doesnt make sense, brain fog is bad lmao)

Oh my god the absolute panic on Logan’s face when he realizes that Laura has somehow vanished from his side in the like ten seconds it took him to get his wallet out of his pocket, only for the panic to quickly turn into fond annoyance when he hears branches cracking from above— the little jerk is grinning down at him smugly from her spot at the top of the one tree you collectively decided to bring home, kicking snow down at his face with her sparkly pink winter boots. She does come down after a while (because you asked; she only stuck her tongue out at Logan when he did) and you try to fight back a smile as Logan scolds her, the scene feeling very fatherly. Laura does giggle at him while he stubbornly tries to cut the tree down by himself, grunting under his breath in exertion— she swings your intertwined hands in the air, mumbling something to you about how he’s gonna complain about being sore later on, which earns her a soft, half-hearted “shut up” from her dad. After the tree is secured in the truck, the three of you walk over to the little hot chocolate stand to make Laura try her very first hot chocolate ever— she demands extra marshmallows in it, just like her dad <3. (You do have to brush pine needles out of her hair that night before tucking her in, though <3)

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 39

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,885ish

Summary: You don't leave El Paso. You and Logan begin to interact more.

Warning(s): bars, drunk men, tears, heartbreak

Notes: Well, let's see how this goes... I promise they'll stop walking away from each other. The next chapter will have more of the Logan movie.

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

You couldn’t get yourself to leave El Paso, not yet, anyway. You were still angry at Logan, but you could see the pain he was in, and you couldn’t walk away completely from him. You found yourself a motel room to stay for a while. The first night, your dreams were full of Logan. All the happy memories that now only made your heart break further. When you woke, you were crying. Your right hand went to your left to play with your wedding ring, only for you to find that it was no longer there.

Without a care to how you looked, you rushed out of your room and sped to the diner. You frantically searched through the dirt for your ring. Tears fell into the dirt as you failed to find it. You went into the diner and up to one of the waitresses behind the counter.

“Has anyone turned in a wedding ring?” You asked.

“No, sorry, dear,” she responded. “Haven’t seen one.”

You nodded and walked out. You stared at the area where you and Logan had words just hours before. It had already felt like your whole relationship was slipping through your fingers; now, you didn’t even have your ring. You didn’t have Logan’s dog tags either, having lost them years ago. All you were left with were your memories, but even they were tainted under this haze of darkness that the two of you were experiencing. With a shaky breath, you walked back to your car.

You failed to notice a familiar pair of hazel eyes following you. Logan sat in his limo, parked across the street, as you got back into your car. It didn’t shock him that you had stayed in town. His large, rough right hand opened up to reveal your wedding ring sitting in the palm of it. He maneuvered it to move it from finger to finger as he watched you drive away.

Logan remembered that you had thrown your ring between the two of you after a long night of work. He couldn’t bear the thought of it sitting in the dirt. The ring was too important and symbolized too much. So he grabbed it before anyone else could. Logan pressed the ring to his chest, where burns were still healing from your attack the previous day. This was the first time your burns ever hurt him like this. But he did not hold any blame toward you. You had every right to attack him the way you did. Logan believed he deserved every bit of your anger and hatred.

~~~

That night, you decided to go to the nearby bar. Not to stalk Logan, but to get yourself a drink. You were three drinks in when a man slid into the seat beside you.

“Hey, pretty lady,” his words slurred together. He leaned in closer, allowing you to smell his breath and body odor. “You new in town? I haven’t ever seen you around here.”

“Just passing through,” you muttered, keeping your eyes on your glass as your finger ran circles around the rim.

“Well, wanna pass through my way?”

“I’m…” 

The word ‘married’ sat on your tongue, but you couldn’t get yourself to say it. Your eyes shifted over to the finger on your left hand that once proudly carried your ring. Logan had reminded you that you weren’t actually married, so could you really use that as an excuse?

“I’m not interested,” you said instead. 

“Come on, sweet cheeks,” he moved closer, placing a hand on your back.  “Give me a chance.”

You studied the man out of the corner of your eye. In all honesty, if he didn’t sink and looked a little better, you might have taken him up on the offer. But not tonight. You wanted to be alone. 

“I’m good.” 

You finished off your drink before throwing some cash down on the bar. You headed out of the bar, trying to ignore the fact that the man was following. Having walked to the bar, you knew that it was too dangerous to head there if the man followed you. You couldn’t get very far out the door anyway before the man grabbed your wrist and pinned you against the wall.

“It’s not kind to walk away like that,” he slurred.

You opened your mouth to say something, but the man was torn off of you before you could.

“Get the fuck away from her,” Logan snarled, glaring down at the man. He was dropping off a bachelorette party when he saw you exit the bar and the man touch you.

There was a time when you would have been grateful for Logan intervening, but now it only made you angry. As Logan scared the man, you walked away, starting down the street like nothing happened.

“Hey!” Logan called, limping after you. “Y/N! Get in the car.”

You continued walking. “I thought you wanted me to walk away? So let me walk away.” He finally caught up with you, catching your wrist and forcing you to turn around. “Let go of me.” You tried to tug your wrist from his grip, but he only tightened it. “I don’t need your help, Logan. I had it handled.”

“Oh, I know you would have set the man on fire, but that’s too risky.”

“I can be subtle.”

Logan scoffed. “Whatever you say, sweetheart. Let’s go.”

“No.” You dug your feet into the ground.

“Yes. I’m dropping you off at the airport. You are leaving.”

“You’re not the boss of me. Hell, you reminded me yesterday that you’re not even my husband. Now let go!” 

You heated up your arm, forcing Logan to let go with a groan. Logan stuffed his hand in his pocket quickly so that you weren’t able to see the burn and blisters from your heat.

“Don’t you have a job to do?” You questioned.

“I have time to get you to the airport,” he responded.

“Too bad I’m not going to the airport. I’m going back to my motel.”

“Then let me drive you.”

“Oh, so you can trick me into going to the airport? No thanks. Besides, my motel is right here.”

You turned on your heel and continued walking. Logan followed, not willing to let you walk back alone. You ignored him as you reached your motel and walked to the door of your room. Logan looked around, surveying the motel. It clearly wasn’t the best or even safest. He immediately noticed, as you opened the door, that it didn’t even sit right on its hinges, leaving a gap at the bottom.

“This place isn’t safe,” he murmured.

“I can handle myself,” you retorted. “Besides, I don’t have much money. It’s all I can afford.”

“What about the house?”

The house. The one that sat in the Canadian Rockies that the two of you haven’t visited in almost five years.

“Lost it when the government believed you were keeping Charles there… I’ve been on the streets, figuring it out.”

“What?”

“Don’t be so shocked. Where did you think I’d go? The mansion? Without everyone… it wouldn’t be the same. Besides, there are whispers that the government is after me to get to Charles. I’m not safe anywhere. Except on the run and on the streets.” You glanced back at him, the guilt shining in his eyes. You did what you could to make it worse, not caring how childish it was. “Just another promise you failed to keep…. Or, I guess, you chose to break.”

The scene from fifty-five years ago played out in real-time in Logan’s mind. How he had reached out for your hand, begging you to come with him and promising you a bed, clothes, food, and that you’d never be on the streets. Now, here you were… and Logan had to blame himself.

“Y/N…”

“Just go, Logan. I don’t have the energy to deal with this anymore tonight.”

“You shouldn’t be staying here.”

“Well, where are you staying?” Logan looked away, not willing to answer the question. “That’s what I thought.” You walked over to the door. “Goodnight, Logan.” 

Logan didn’t move as you shut the door in his face. He stood there for a moment, fighting with himself on whether or not to take you with him. You didn’t deserve this life you were forced into, but it’s not like the smelting plant he, Charles, and his mutant helper, Caliban, were living in was any better. With a sigh, he left, heading back to the bar and his limousine. 

~~~

The next night, you found yourself at the bar again, silently hoping that Logan would make an appearance. When you were finished drinking for the night, you left the bar to find Logan leaning against his limo. You decided against talking to him, instead heading for your motel. Logan silently followed, not ever too far behind. He stopped in the parking lot and watched as you slipped into your motel. He stayed until the lights were off, and then he headed back to the limo. This became the routine for the next eight days.

You were about to run out of money. So, instead of going to the bar for the night, you stayed in to go over your options. 

Logan was getting worried. You were an hour late in making your appearance outside the bar. With a huff, he walked in and searched the bar for you. Only to not be able to find you. His heart began pounding as he grew concerned. Logan hopped into his limo and drove over to your motel. He couldn’t help but rush over to your door and knock loudly.

“Y/N! Are you in there?” He worried. With furrowed brows, you went over and opened the door. He felt little relief when he saw you standing there. “You weren’t at the bar.”

“I’ve been busy,” you replied with a shrug, not trying to overthink the fact that he was worried about you.

“Are you okay?”

You debated for a moment on whether or not to tell him the truth. “I’m running out of money. I needed to figure out where it was coming from next.”

Logan hated how fast his heart dropped. He had promised to keep you safe from this life, and he had failed. “How much do you need?”

“I’m not taking your money, Logan. I can figure it out just fine.”

“Just tell me how much.”

“No. You can’t swoop in and save the day… Not when you’re the one who wanted this.”

“Y/N—“

“Goodnight, Logan.”

You slammed the door in his face.

~~~

“I know you’ve seen her,” Charles stated as he watered the plants that sat in the tank that he was never allowed to leave.

“Who?” Logan questioned, pretending to be clueless as he readied Charles’ meds.

“Y/N… I don’t understand why you can’t just bring her here.”

“She’s safer out there.”

“Clearly not.”

“She’s fine.”

“Does the reason that you won’t bring her here have anything to do with the reason we’re here?”

“Charles—“

“Y/N and I deserve the truth.”

“Y/N knows the truth.”

“And I don’t?”

“Here.” Logan shoved the medication into Charles’ hand. “Take. Now.” Charles swallowed the pills down quickly. “Open.” 

Charles stuck his tongue out and opened his mouth wide to prove to Logan that he’d taken the pills. Once Logan was done, he headed for the door.

“You are miserable, Logan,” Charles stated, causing the man to pause. “She’s miserable, too… Hell, we all are. But the two of you might as well be miserable together.”

“You don’t understand,” Logan muttered.

“You’re correct, I don’t. I don’t understand how you can watch the person you love suffer like the way Y/N is. If you truly love her, you’d make sure she’s taken care of.”

“Get some sleep, Charles.”

~~~

Logan hated that Charles was right, even when his mind was deteriorating. You were not protected or safe as long as you didn’t have a home. You were the only thing on his mind as he finished an Uber ride and headed to the diner to get some food. He sat down in his usual spot and glanced around. He froze as you walked over to him in a waitress's uniform.

“What are you doing?” He wondered.

“Well, hello to you, too, Logan,” you replied. “I needed money. The diner needed another waitress.”

“So, you’re sticking around?”

“Until a better offer comes around, I plan on being here for a long time.”

~~~

Logan made it a new routine to come to the diner for lunch. Sometimes you were working, sometimes you weren’t. When you were there, the two of you would barely talk outside of him ordering food, which he didn’t have to do since you already knew what he liked. Logan would watch with observant eyes at your every movement and interaction. He knew you better than anyone, and he knew you weren’t okay. But he knew that you could tell the same thing about him. The two of you never handled it well, being apart from each other. But, about two weeks after you started the job, Logan could tell that something was weighing you down.

“What’s wrong?” He quietly asked as you set down his food.

“Nothing,” you responded.

“Y/N.” He grabbed your hand. “Talk to me.”

“Let go of me, Logan.”

“Just tell me.”

“Let go.” 

You heated up your skin, burning his hand and forcing him to let go. Logan bit back a pained moan as you spun around to take care of another customer. Logan stood up and limped to the restroom, running your hand under the cold sink water. You noticed as Logan exited the restroom and sat back down. You saw that the hand that he had grabbed you with was resting on his lap, palm up. Slowly, you got closer, eyes never leaving his hand. You gasped as you saw the not-healing burn. Logan’s eyes snapped up at your gasp.

“Did I… Did I hurt you?” You questioned. You had never seen something like this happen to Logan. Every burn you had ever caused him had healed. This wasn’t.

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” Logan told you.

“Oh my gosh… Logan…” You reached down with trembling hands and took his injured hand. “I… I hurt you.”

Logan’s heart cracked as you took the blame for the burn. “It’s not your fault, honey.”

“Yes, it is.” You tugged his arm. “Come with me.”

“Y/N—“

“Come.”

Logan sighed and followed you. You kept a hold of his wrist as you led him through the kitchen and into the small back office. You dropped his wrist before you closed the door and grabbed the first aid kit.

“Sit,” you gently ordered.

Logan didn’t bother fighting, sitting down in the chair. He watched you as you gathered the needed items. You gently took his hand and rested it on the desk. Then you got the burn cream and carefully applied it over the burn. Once it was all covered, you wrapped his hand and pressed a kiss over the wrap. You set Logan’s hand down in his lap before your hands went to his face, holding it delicately. Your thumbs rubbed up against his full gray beard as you studied his face. His wrinkles, his eyes, the tiny scars.

“What’s happening to you, Logan?” You whispered.

Logan’s hands slowly came up to your hips, barely holding you there. “I’m fine, baby.”

“No, you’re not… just tell me what’s wrong… Please.”

Logan’s uninjured hand ran up your side until he was cradling your head in his large palm. He gently guided your head down until your lips were barely not touching. You both closed your eyes as you allowed yourselves to feel the weight of this moment and everything that had happened before this. Logan inhaled sharply when he felt a tear fall to his cheek, and he knew it wasn’t his.

“Please don’t cry, honey,” he quietly begged.

“What’s happened to us?” You cried. “What’s happening?”

As your tears turned into sobs, Logan quickly pulled you into his lap and held you there.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he comforted. “I’m here.”

“But you’re not,” you sobbed. Logan could feel his own tears burning in the back of his eyes. “You left… everyone died… and I… I miss you… I miss you so much it hurts… but it doesn’t matter because you’re just gonna tell me to walk away… and maybe this time I will.”

“Don’t.” The word came out before Logan could stop it. “Don’t walk away… please.”

“You’ve hurt me so much.”

“I know, baby, I know. And I will never forgive myself for any of it, and I don’t ever expect your forgiveness. But don’t leave.”

“Then take me to your home, Logan.”

“I can’t do that, honey. It’s too dangerous.”

“I can handle it.”

“I can’t… Charles isn’t stable, and I can’t find you that way again… You were bleeding so much and unresponsive… I won’t let that happen again.”

“Then I guess there’s my choice.” You pulled yourself away from Logan and stood up. “I have to finish my shift.”

You walked out of the office without another word, leaving Logan wondering if this could ever be fixed.

next chapter >

[themareverine]

Toy Soldiers | TEASER | worst!wolverine x fem!IOC drabble

a/n: so yeah basically i'm still working on this fic, it's taking longer than expected. doing more with it than i thought. figured you all deserved a teaser, so here you go! enjoy!

“Easy, sweetheart,” early morning gravels his words, which hang low in baritones not at all unfamiliar, “‘m not gonna hurt you. You breathin’ ok?” Genuine concern passes through his eyes, deep and alive, but—not in a bright way. The corner of his lip tips up, “Don’t mean to scare ya, pretty.” 

“What the hell are you doing here,” she challenges, taking a half step back. Memories of kickboxing classes, somewhere in her youth, escape through the fingers of memories in the back of her head. More boxing posture than anything, she lifts her arms to chin level. Fingers tear into the stuffie like it’s a lifeline, like it’s protection. And for now, it is. 

Not giving him the chance to answer, his mouth hangs open in muted response, “This is my apartment—you can either leave or I’ll–I’ll forcibly remove you.” It would take a 911 call—it would mean grabbing her phone from the nightstand, punching the emergency button, and staying away from him during response time. All unlikely, given proximity. The size of the apartment. How he blocks the only damn exit with his huge-ass frame. 

Jaw snapping closed, a thick brow pops up. He chuckles. He thinks this is funny, “Whoa, take it easy, bub—” 

“—shut up! Stop talking!” Pointing a strong finger at him, she shuffles back on light feet. Bobbing as best she can, trying to appear light. Prepared. But everything in every manual in the world wouldn’t have prepared her for home invasion—all those home defense classes. The hours shooting clays and targets with her father. Worthless. 

I am so going to die. 

Another step into her sanctuary, holy of holies. “Quit moving, damnit!” 

The stranger stops mid-stride, brows popped in surprise at her tone of voice, squinched nose and roughly shut eyes. Her eyes pop open. Hands drop to his sides for all of a minute before he chuckles. And he laughs with his entire body for all of a few seconds—

—until the stuffie chucks directly at his face, a blur of hot-pink fur and fluff. 

[wolvietxt]

Could you do Logan Howlett + priorities in the miscommunication prompt? ❤️

one character believes the other is prioritizing someone else over them, feeling hurt and neglected. after a heartfelt confrontation, the other explains their actions, and they find comfort in understanding their connection remains just as strong.

LOGAN had always been hard to read, his gruff exterior a carefully constructed wall that rarely came down. you’d learned to navigate it, to understand the subtle shifts in his tone and the fleeting glimpses of vulnerability he allowed you to see. but lately, it felt like those moments had vanished altogether.

every time you tried to talk to him, he seemed preoccupied, his focus drawn to someone or something else. it wasn’t unusual for jean to need his help - her calm presence often balanced his rough edges - but it felt different this time. more constant, more consuming. and no matter how much you tried to push the thought away, the knot in your chest grew tighter with each passing day.

that evening, you found yourself alone in the kitchen, absentmindedly stirring a mug of tea that had long since gone cold. the quiet buzz of the mansion surrounded you, but your mind was elsewhere, replaying every moment logan had walked past you without so much as a glance, every time his voice softened when speaking to jean in a way it hadn’t with you recently.

“what’s eatin’ ya?”

the gravelly voice startled you, and you turned to see logan leaning against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. his brow was furrowed, but there was something softer in his eyes, a flicker of concern that made your throat tighten.

“nothing,” you muttered, looking away. “just tired.”

“ain’t buyin’ that.” he stepped closer, his boots heavy against the tiled floor. “been quiet lately. somethin’ happen?”

his tone was genuine, but the frustration bubbling beneath your skin refused to be ignored. you set the mug down with more force than necessary, the clink echoing in the room.

“maybe you should ask jean,” you snapped, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

logan’s eyes narrowed, his posture stiffening. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“it means,” you said, turning to face him fully, “that you’ve been spending more time with her than with me. it’s like i’m not even here anymore.”

his jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might argue. but instead, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “jean needed help with some stuff. ain’t nothin’ more than that.”

“it doesn’t feel like nothing,” you said, your voice cracking despite your best efforts to keep it steady. “every time i turn around, you’re with her. and i get it, logan. she’s… she’s amazing. but it hurts, okay? it feels like you’d rather be with her than with me.”

his eyes softened, the tension in his shoulders easing as he stepped closer. “that ain’t true,” he said quietly. “jean… she’s been strugglin’ with some things. i was just tryin’ to help her out.”

“why didn’t you tell me?” the question came out as a whisper, your hands gripping the edge of the counter for support. “why do you always shut me out?”

logan exhaled heavily, his gaze dropping to the floor. “guess i didn’t wanna burden ya. you’ve got enough on your plate without me addin’ to it.”

“so instead, you made me feel like i wasn’t enough,” you said, the weight of your own words pressing down on you. “logan, ‘m here for you. i want to be here for you. but i can’t do that if you keep pushing me away.”

he looked up, and for the first time in days, you saw a crack in his armor. his expression was a mix of regret and something deeper, something raw and unspoken.

“i’m sorry,” he said, the words gruff but sincere. “you’re right. i shoulda told ya what was goin’ on instead of makin’ ya feel like this. it ain’t fair to ya.”

you blinked, the tears you’d been holding back threatening to spill over. “i just… i just needed to know i wasn’t losing you.”

he closed the distance between you in two quick strides, his hands gently gripping your arms as he tilted his head to meet your gaze. “you ain’t losin’ me,” he said firmly. “that’s the last damn thing that’ll ever happen.”

the sincerity in his voice, the way his fingers curled slightly as if afraid you’d pull away, broke through the last of your defenses. you let out a shaky breath, leaning into his chest as his arms wrapped around you, solid and reassuring.

“i’m sorry too,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his shirt. “for assuming the worst.”

“nah,” he said, his chin resting lightly on the top of your head. “you had every right to call me out. i’ve been actin’ like a damn fool.”

you let out a small laugh, the tension in your chest easing as his hand traced soothing circles along your back. for a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet between you no longer heavy but comforting.

“next time,” you said softly, pulling back just enough to look up at him, “promise me you’ll talk to me. no more shutting me out.”

his lips quirked into a faint smile, one that reached his eyes. “promise.”

he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then another to your temple, lingering there for a moment as if grounding himself in your presence. the gesture was simple but full of meaning, a silent reassurance that you weren’t going anywhere, and neither was he.

you stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, the weight of misunderstanding finally lifting. and though the road ahead might still have its bumps, you knew you’d face them together - no walls, no secrets, just the unshakable bond that held you both steady.

ᰔ logan howlett : @notacleangirl, @v3lv3tf0x, @dugiioh, @whxtewolf, @rooroen

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taglist form linked in pinned post :3

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